The snow falling in April is serene. It scatters wherever the wind blows, disappearing before one knows it without leaving a trace. That fleeting moment, a landscape that quietly sparkles, becomes a moment that remains forever unforgettable in the memories of some. The publishing house 'April Snow' resembles that landscape, yet does not. For over a decade, it has steadfastly collected times and spaces that others have failed to see. Unlike the April snow that sparkles and vanishes, the photo books of 'April Snow' capture moments that never melt.

As soon as I heard the publishing house name 'April Snow,' a somewhat sentimental yet slightly melancholic scene came to mind. I am curious about the story behind the name.

It was 2012, and I was deep in thought about what to name the publishing house. I was living in Seoul at the time, and snowflakes were swirling outside my apartment window. It was April 3rd. While I found the scene peculiar, the phrase "April Snow" immediately came to mind, and I felt it would be a perfect fit for the photobook publishing we intended to do. After all, snow falling in April is a dystopian phenomenon connected to both the ecosystem and the climate crisis. I felt that all my emotions—such as the worry of "Is there really a future even if we publish photobooks?" and the dire state of the publishing industry—were intertwined with that desolate landscape.

Considering profitability, starting a publishing house specializing in 'photo books' must not have been an easy decision.

In a way, I think I was able to muster the reckless courage precisely because of my ignorance. I had long harbored a desire to publish a photography book, but I couldn't bring myself to try it. Just then, an opportunity arose when my husband, designer Jaewan Jeong, was appointed to Yeungnam University. With a more stable financial foundation than before, I was able to do meaningful work without being overly concerned with profit.

As you settled in Daegu, where you had no connections, did you experience any changes as the representative of April's Eye or as an individual?

I spent about 10 years of my childhood in Europe and attended university in Seoul, so I knew absolutely nothing about other cities. To me, Daegu was simply a place shrouded in mystery. When I first arrived in Daegu, I felt like I was in a small European town from my childhood. The distance to the city center is just right, there is less time wasted on the road, and the stress from population density is definitely less than in Seoul. Most importantly, having a physical distance from Seoul allowed me to focus on my own life without having to go around just for the sake of greeting people. I was also able to set up the studio for *April's Eye*. This studio is a gift from Daegu to us. When I was in Seoul, I used to work with books piled up in a corner of my room. Rent in Seoul is so expensive that I would never have been able to find a studio of this size.

CEO Jeon Ga-kyung and Designer Jung Jae-wan are a married couple running Sawol-ui-nun together. I am curious to know how the two of you first met.

I originally majored in literature, but I started studying again in my early 30s because I wanted to become a book designer. I enrolled as a student in a design course called 'Jeong Byeong-gyu School' taught by Jeong Byeong-gyu, a first-generation book designer, and that is where I met Jeong Jae-wan, who was also a student. It turned out that Jeong Jae-wan was already working as a designer at 'Jeong Byeong-gyu Design' as one of Mr. Jeong's favorite disciples. In a way, it felt like I was a teaching assistant participating under the guise of a student. I was able to learn all the fundamentals of design there. Later, while writing my master's thesis, I produced a book. Working with Jeong Jae-wan at that time, I felt that we had incredible chemistry. Aside from our romantic relationship, I thought, 'I would be truly happy if I could work with this person for the rest of my life.'

I didn't think it was too late and kept running, eventually learning design.

It took some time. After graduating from my undergraduate program, I entered graduate school at a teacher training college and even obtained an English teacher's license. However, I realized that teaching wasn't the right path for me, so I got a job at an English-language newspaper. After working there for about a year, I felt that if I didn't do it now, I would have to give up design forever, so I started studying again. After graduating from graduate school, I worked at 'Aji Books.' It was a publishing house run by a design studio that experimented with various projects, and since I was working in a publishing business run by designers, I gained a lot of experience with image-centric storytelling. As I continued working, I felt that this was work I could truly excel at, and I gradually developed a desire to publish photography books.

April's Eye focuses on the theme of 'photography-text-design.' How specifically do you develop this?

It started with the thought, "Why do all the photobooks I see treat photographs as if they were reverent works of art?" The printed page allows for diverse expression, so I wondered why we only have such serene photobooks. April Eye works along three main streams. First is "Photography + α"—publishing books that incorporate other genres that can serve as a link to photography. Second is creating work that reflects our capabilities as designers. This is also a source of pride for us. In the field of photobooks, participation has often been limited to photographers, while designers tend to have relatively less interest in image composition. There was a void in filling this gap, and since we can capture both sides, we target the niche connecting photography, text, and design. Third is creating books by meeting established young artists or artists we can support and collaborate with through publishing.

Since both of you majored in design, I thought there would be many projects focused on design.

In the process of creating a book, I primarily handle planning and editing, while Jaewan Jeong takes charge of design; however, I realized that the boundaries between these tasks are not as clear-cut as slicing a radish with a knife. Since both images and text constitute the manuscript in a photobook, we conceptualize planning, editing, and design together from the very beginning. Not stopping there, we are now trying a method of recruiting artists from the start to conceptualize the book together. Lately, we are working with artist Dohyeon Um, who lives in France, on a book themed around "lakes," aiming for publication this summer. I believe that when documenting from an outsider's perspective, one can see new facets that insiders cannot. Artist Dohyeon Um has documented Daegu on two separate occasions, centering on lakes. Such a fresh perspective is necessary.

With the publication of my first photobook, *Between*, in 2013, I raised the curtain on a project to discover artists who could debut as photographers through the platform of a photobook, rather than through contests and awards.

I have always felt that the established photography system is too powerful and the barriers are too high. To debut as a photographer, you have to hold an exhibition, but the costs are considerable. I thought that if publishing could function as a stepping stone for photographers, we could discover many amateurs who take high-quality photos.

In <No One Answered, Only One Person Remembered> (hereinafter <No One, Only>), the Sewol Ferry disaster; in <Jagalmadang>, the prostitution hub in Daegu,

I believe that if the theme and imagery are clear, the space between photos and text can be explored and explored in entirely new ways. First of all, *Nobody, Only* is a 'photo + novel' format that I really wanted to produce through April's Eye. Since it is a somewhat unfamiliar format in Korea, I wanted to try it even more. In particular, while there were many images related to the Sewol Ferry disaster, I wanted to document the tragedy using a different style of imagery than the photographs typically used. Then I came across Hong Jin-hwon's photo series "Nobody Answered," and I thought I could create the book I wanted. While searching for a story that would match the tone of the photographs, I discovered Kim Yeon-su's short story *I Remember Only One Person*, and with their consent, I included it in this single book. On the other hand, *Jagalmadang* and

I have been collecting various images capturing Daegu, known as the 'City of Apples,' since 2022. I am curious about how you started this and the current progress. I found the very idea of tracing the origins of Daegu's image through apples to be intriguing.

Whenever I thought of Daegu, apples immediately came to mind, so I had been vaguely thinking that I wanted to collect apple images. Then, I saw an apple image posted on social media by Mr. Lee Sang-hyun, a civil servant working in Daegu, which led to a concrete collaboration on this project. He studied urban studies in the Netherlands and was mapping Daegu through various themes. It turned out that the creation of the city's image as an "apple city" actually originated during the Japanese colonial period. Japanese residents in Daegu began cultivating apples in the city's fertile soil. Although this historical context is not widely publicized in Korea, thanks to this, the project is evolving into an image archive rather than just a simple photo book. There are many interesting images, such as apple advertisements found in magazines from the 1960s. It is fascinating to be able to look into the process of image creation established by the Japanese.

I also personally conducted the photography for the book *Apartment Letters* with designer Jeong Jae-wan. We found apartment letters in Daegu and other regions.

With the proliferation of new apartments in Seoul, it is difficult to find old lettering. However, in other cities like Daegu, Busan, and Jeonju, many old apartments still remain, making it interesting to observe the lettering. Ultimately, the apartment lettering has become a form of archive connected to the history of Daegu. Since writing names so blatantly on apartment exteriors is a unique visual culture specific to Korea, I felt it was a project we, as designers, could undertake. Listening to the stories of those who worked as exterior painters in the 1970s and 1980s, I learned that back then, apartment lettering was created based on the painters' intuitive senses rather than meticulous planning. The way consonants and vowels were written allowed me to understand the style popular among painters at the time. As an extension of this book, I have commissioned a collection of urban signboard lettering.

It has been over 10 years since you published your first book with April's Eye in 2013. Do you think you have successfully led the way in the direction you wanted during these 10 years?

My goal was to publish two books a year, and I achieved that goal every year except for last. I believe this was possible because I have readers. It wouldn't have been fun if I kept publishing books but they weren't selling. At first, I naively thought that with independent publishing, it was okay if sales were poor. But I realized that was just self-consolation. You need a stepping stone that leads to the production of the next book. It was the positive response from readers that allowed me to persevere and produce 22 books.

Is there a topic you would like to cover in the future?

One is a book related to film. As I continuously research visual culture, I often find myself reading theoretical books on video culture or film. In film, images are assembled into a montage to create a video, and just as there are still shots in photography, there are also single frames. I want to continue exploring the interesting interaction between film and photography. Recently, I produced a book that originated from the film *Heesu*; although it was a somewhat unapproachable book in a way, there were people who managed to fully grasp the story we intended to convey. This gave me the confidence to do more work and became the driving force to move forward. Another is the 'Rhythm Series.' There is a book titled * Rhythmanalysis * by the French philosopher Henri Lefebvre , which argues that every region has its own unique rhythm . It involves examining everyday culture through the keyword of rhythm. It implies that Daegu has its own rhythm, and within Daegu, there is a rhythm specific to Suseong-gu, and there is also a distinct rhythm for Daebong-dong, where we live. Even though we cannot standardize everything, we often evaluate things only in broad units like 'Korea,' 'the Seoul metropolitan area,' or 'Daegu.' I want to collect the diverse and unique rhythms of each region to show that regions are not isolated or static.

Maker's Pick

3 Photo Books to Watch Out For at April Eye

Kwon Do-yeon, *Bukhansan* (Revised Edition), 2023

<Bukhansan> is a photobook compiling a series of photographs of wild dogs taken by artist Kwon Do-yeon in Bukhansan over a period of about two years. It is a poetic photographic documentary that captures the stories and lives of dogs abandoned or driven out by humans due to 'New Town' urban development with precision and meticulous detail.

Hong Jin-hwon & Kim Yeon-su, *No One Answered, To Remember Only One Person* Special Edition, 2023

Photographer Hong Jin-hwon and novelist Kim Yeon-su documented the Sewol Ferry disaster through their respective perspectives. At the intersection of photography and writing, fiction and non-fiction, they remember and reenact the 2014 Sewol Ferry disaster. This is a revised and expanded edition of the book of the same name published in 2017.

Gam Jeong-won, *Still Cut, Heesu*, 2023

The film *Heesu* is about a young female worker at the Daegu Dyeing Industrial Complex. *Still Cut, Heesu* is the result of reinterpreting Director Gam Jeong-won's independent film *Heesu* through the language of books. The tangled timelines within the film are rearranged within the book.