We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful Joo Won Shin. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with Joo Won below.

Alright, Joo Won thanks for taking the time to share your stories and insights with us today. We’d love to hear about the things you feel your parents did right and how those things have impacted your career and life.

My parents are the people who, despite the risks, did the right thing more courageously than anyone else. I feel deep respect and admiration for the fact that they did such things at my current age, and they raised my brother and me through those difficult times. They are also the first creators I ever met.

For a long time, military dictatorships in Korea suppressed freedom and human rights. In particular, in 1980, the military killed citizens in Gwangju who had risen up for democracy. Amidst the situation in the 1980s, my parents courageously stood up for freedom and human rights. Later, they also took the path of protesting/movements, striving to realize a humane life for working people. They endured many hardships. My father was arrested three times, and my mother lived as a fugitive, even changing her name. Although their parents vehemently opposed their actions, they simply said they were doing what had to be done. They told me that, unlike today, they didn’t have time to dream about the future, and that’s why they constantly urge me to dream, to always do what I want, and to live freely. They have never stopped me from pursuing my path. I felt they want their children to bravely take on the challenges that they wanted to but couldn’t.

Because they lived that way, they inspire me, someone from a different generation living in a better world. I am proud of them. They were the ones who allowed me to go to New York and see a bigger world. I can’t fully grasp their entire lives, but their mindset and perspective on the world have remained unchanged. Now, here I am in New York, a larger world, and as a human being, I have a desire to create a better world than the one I’m in now. This gives me a sense of purpose, and I want to do it through the music I love. Because of my parents, the more afraid I feel, the more courage I have to face challenges. Whenever things aren’t going well, they are there to support me. Even now, they live a mentally and physically healthier life more than anyone else, and I think I’ve naturally learned from them.

Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.

I am a Korean singer-song writer, actress, and dancer based in New York and also in Seoul, South Korea. Most notably, I was the starring singer in the Netflix drama series, “Squid Game”. I sang a cover rendition of “Fly Me to the Moon” for the iconic “Red Light Green Light” scene. I also have performed at various theatre /TV such as La MaMa, Birdland Jazz club, 54below, JTBC, etc in NY, Seoul & Tokyo.

Music has been naturally with me. I can’t remember exactly when I started singing, but I’ve loved it since I was very young. I believe that when we are children, we all sing, like birds do, but some people continue while others don’t. I’m one of those who kept using this childlike superpower. Luckily, while I was growing up, I was able to maintain this childlike enthusiasm and instinctive exuberance.
My grandmother raised my brother and me because our parents were too busy with work. She often sang Korean folk songs to me, and I used to sing along with her. I remember going to a senior citizens’ center with her and singing in front of other grannies. I even got pocket money from them. I could say that was my first paid gig—haha! One memory I can still vividly recall is sitting at the Trevi Fountain, watching people, mimicking their language, and humming notes in nonsensical English because I thought it was so cool to be able to sing in a foreign language. I can’t believe that I’m now able to do that.
My mom, who is a painter, took my brother and me to art galleries and as many performances as possible. My parents even sent us to an alternative school where we could study freely without even wearing uniforms unlike other normal schools because they didn’t like the Korean formal education system. Our school had an autonomous creative learning system, which gave me many opportunities to perform music. I believe that we found what we wanted to do sooner than other young people.
I eventually went to an art University and majored in Musical Theatre. I was also influenced by my brother, who is now eventually an actor. At that time, I didn’t think about my career “professionally.” I was just doing what I liked. ‘A bee doesn’t know its role in preserving the balance of nature, it simply exists’. Just like that, I was simply doing what I had to.
Pursuing a creative/artistic path professionally and taking it seriously is a relatively recent development. Now, I really want to prioritize music above all else because I’ve realized that singing is for me the most powerful tool I can be part of this world, make it a better place and connect to people. I’ve learned that creating art goes beyond language, beyond life itself. I believe it’s the most effective and beautiful way to express myself in the world. I’ve been healed by so many artists and their creative work, so I don’t want to waste time worrying about silly things. Instead, I want to focus on creating art to heal others.

Tell us the story of a risk you’ve taken – it could be a big, life changing risk or a small risk. Either way, paint the picture for us, tell us the backstory and all the relevant details so we can fully understand the context and circumstances around when and why you took the risk and tell us how it turned out.

Moving to New York City alone as an artist is the most life-changing risk and best decision I’ve made so far.

I was born and raised in Seoul, South Korea. In 2017, I had the chance to visit NYC for the first time with my professor, who told me that the world is much bigger than I knew. And yes, she was right. I realized I had been trying to fit into one box, one culture, one Korean beauty standard, which I didn’t have to. New York City literally opened my eyes. It was a mind-blowing trip. I’ll never forget the moment I cried intensely while watching a performance, even though I couldn’t understand what they were saying because of the language barrier. I felt deeply connected to them. I wanted to understand exactly what that connection was and why I felt it. I strongly believed that NYC could be the place where I could truly be myself. To change my surroundings and find the best environment for me, long story short, I ended up moving to NYC.
One of the main reasons I wanted to live in NYC was actually because I felt extremely lonely in South Korea, even when I was with other people. Singing was the only way I could escape from the misery at that time. My self-sabotage was getting worse, and I was losing confidence day by day. I hated the people at my college. Something was wrong, and I needed to change. Instead of changing myself, I changed my environment.
At first, I didn’t see moving to NYC as a risk. My curiosity and survival instinct pushed me forward beyond my fear, unstoppable, challenging me despite the unknown difficulties. I didn’t struggle with the decision, to be honest.
Every day is challenging here, NYC. As an “alien” in this foreign country, there are many things that consistently worry me, but I’ve never regretted it.

Are you happier as an artist or creative? Do you sometimes think about what it would be like to just have a regular job? Tell us the story about the last time you had that thought, what was going on, really paint the picture for us so we can understand what you were going through and how you thought through this question and what (if any) conclusions or insights you came to.

I’m not necessarily “happier.” Instead, I feel alive, and that allows me to appreciate life more.

Of course, I do sometimes think about what it would be like to have a regular job—especially when I’m worried about my financial stability, when I face stage fright again even in a rehearsal, when I want to travel easily, or when I feel insecure about my life compared to my partner who has a much more stable job than I do. I’ve imagined that it would be a simpler, more organized life. However, I’ve learned that being an artist or creative person is a way of being in the world; it’s like a practice. I haven’t stopped myself from being creative, just as nature doesn’t stop itself. My desire to share my work is as strong as the instinct to protect myself. My sensitivity, which allows me to create art, also requires me to protect myself because everything hurts more. I feel everything more deeply. So, there was no real choice for me from the start. I was just playing to play, and no one’s stopped me.
Being an artist or creative person allows me to possibly become the best version of myself, regardless of how much money I have. It helps me stay in the present, which means living my life in a state of constant openness to receiving. It makes me focus more on what’s going on inside myself—my sensations, my emotions. It allows me to see the world through innocent eyes and to embrace my imperfections. Our memory space is limited, but as an artist, I can make everything meaningful and worthwhile.
It’s also the most vulnerable way to live. It brings fear, self-doubt, anxiety, and sometimes a feeling of emptiness. But this is life. At least, as an artist, I can turn my fear into bravery. I’m so afraid of judgment, but it gives me the chance to break through and move forward. This energy keeps me awake. It reminds me that I’m not alone. I feel like I belong here, and it gives me a reason to be alive.

If you could go back in time do you wish you had started your creative career sooner or later? Give us the backstory – when did you start, where were you at life-wise/career-wise? What would starting later or sooner have been like for you? What would have changed about your experience and looking back do you wish you had started sooner, later or at the same time?

If I could go back in time, I wish I had come to New York earlier, where I could have allowed my creative journey to be truly unlimited. I might have restored my pure creative perception—a more innocent state of wonder and appreciation. I would have been more confident, more creative, and, most importantly, learned to love myself sooner.
Growing up in Korea, I was constantly conscious of what others thought of me. I often felt like I wasn’t good enough. While this sometimes motivated me to improve and work harder, it mostly bred insecurity. As a woman, I also struggled with feeling ugly and fat, thinking I had too much masculine energy—something I later realized is completely okay. I wish I could meet my younger self and tell her that she’s beautiful just as she is.

What’s been the most meaningful project you’ve worked on? Tell us the backstory so we understand circumstances/context and why it’s meaningful to you.

Releasing my first EP has been the most meaningful project I’ve ever worked on. I could say that Squid Game was the most significant because it was the most successful work in my career, but it wasn’t my own music that I sang. Since Squid Game was released, I felt that my voice was mischaracterized. I didn’t think the sound I made truly represented who I am. As a musical theatre trainee, I felt I wasn’t being authentic when I sang because I had to follow the specific style the production wanted, which wasn’t how I was used to singing. I became afraid of continuing to sing. It took me some time to accept that this was also a part of me. I was just worried that people would be disappointed if I didn’t sing in the exact same style as I did for Squid Game. This confusion made me unhappy, unlike how I used to feel. However, it also gave me the opportunity to question who I am and what I truly love. I was able to expand my musical taste. I learned that I would be happier singing than not singing. So, I decided to release some of the music I created, even if people were disappointed or didn’t like it. For the EP, I produced, wrote, arranged, and sang everything myself. The journey wasn’t easy, and there was a lot of self-doubt, but I needed to get it off my chest, let go, and continue being creative. I made a different type of music that I wasn’t as familiar with or connected to as much as musical theatre. I wanted to expand my capacity as a musician and explore outside of my comfort zone, and I still do. It was my own journey and my own healing process. I want to keep doing it as much as I can. If at least one person feels something through my music and connects with it somehow, that’s enough for me.

One of the songs I made, called “Virginia Woolf,” has been especially inspiring to me throughout my artistic journey. You can check out my EP called, “Nothing Matters” on any music platform by searching for my full name, Joo Won Shin.

Is there a particular goal or mission driving your creative journey?

My mission as an artist is to save those who are struggling with suicidal thoughts.

Although the world we live in today is better than in the past, it’s filled with more loneliness, anxiety, and a pervasive sense of disconnection. The number of people who succumb to this pain and take their own lives is increasing. It’s a horrific reality that many choose to ignore.
At the middle and high school I attended, the student body was small enough that everyone knew each other. There was a friend I wasn’t particularly close to but had known for six years. A year after we graduated, I heard the news that she had taken her own life. Her funeral was the most heart-wrenching experience I’ve ever had. I stood there in shock, unable to shed a tear, with one question in my mind: Why did she die?
Another person who made me ask that same question was Virginia Woolf, a British writer I portrayed in my debut performance, “13fruitcakes.” She left behind a final letter before filling her pockets with heavy stones and walking into a river to end her life. The death of an artist like her made me question everything. Writing was an act of survival for her, yet even that couldn’t save her. The fact that her art couldn’t overcome the pain in her heart terrified me. I, too, carried unresolved pain that I couldn’t share with anyone, and it frightened me.
The deaths of my friend and Virginia Woolf haunt me from time to time. Sometimes, I don’t even want to understand them, because understanding them makes me feel like I’m being pulled toward death as well. During the pandemic, when our lives came to a halt, I started asking myself the opposite question: Why should I live? Why do I sing? What reason do I have to get up each morning? I didn’t want to return to Korea, and the thought of going back filled me with fear and pain. At that point in my life when I had healed and started loving myself, returning to my home country was always an emotional experience. It brought back all my past traumatic memories. The only thing that kept me from falling apart were the artists I encountered online, on YouTube, whose music and art helped me survive each day. Their art made me feel less alone in the world. It was the power of art that I experienced through the internet, and it continues to sustain me even now. With this strength, I want to save someone else through my own music.

Learning and unlearning are both critical parts of growth – can you share a story of a time when you had to unlearn a lesson?

I grew up under the harsh and intense pressure of Korean beauty standards, which severely affected my self-esteem. Society encourages people to undergo risky cosmetic procedures to achieve the ideal look, perpetuating a culture of comparison where people are judged more on their appearance than on their character or abilities. It feels like a never-ending cycle of dissatisfaction, something I still struggle with, even now. However, moving to New York, where so many different people from diverse cultures live, has changed my perspective about myself and how I live my life.

No one can replace me. I don’t need to compare myself to others. I’m proud of what I’ve achieved on my own journey. I don’t need to be anyone else. My storytelling, my voice, my body, my ideas, my choices, my purpose, and my technique are all unique. This is how I remind myself every day.

I’m gonna keep going, no matter what. It’s the only way to work through my misery and find answers.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://joowonshin.weebly.com
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jo0_w0n/
• Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@joowonshin7
• Other: Popsugar interview -https://www.popsugar.com/entertainment/squid-game-fly-me-to-the-moon-cover-artist-48554219

  My music / EP –

  https://music.apple.com/us/album/nothing-matters-single/1749740562uZd8xKtIpv7gcZRzgchouuRV80qIQLNV1pdbJ8svv0ufkJFg

Image Credits

-Noy Finer
-Portrait262
-Smash Cabaret
-Squid Game
-JTBC
-13Fruitcakes