How Euljiro's alley workshops functioned like a brain

Growing up in Greece, I frequently visited Athens’ Syntagma metro station, decorated with archaeological finds. Behind the glass, layer after layer of tools and artifacts lay embedded in the soil, traces of forgotten lives that once lived there. Back then, I imagined a natural disaster or a devastating war was to blame for erasing them.

Almost 30 years later, while documenting Euljiro, I learned that collective forgetting can be planned and accepted. Today, we call it redevelopment. Walking through central Seoul's Euljiro region, when I first visited its alleys in 2022, felt like entering a DIY amusement park the size of a city, handmade by a collection of craftsmen and scientists.

By day, I’d walk with my camera through the maze-like alleys lined with thousands of tiny factories, the air thickly infused with the scent of burning metal mixed with smells of local recipes. On freezing cold winter days, workers would invite me into their factories as the coffee lady asked, “Ginger tea or coffee?” At around 6 p.

m., the technicians pulled down the colorful shutters and the same alle