YANGPYEONG, South Korea, Feb. 2 (Korea Bizwire) — For decades, Oh Hwang-taek, chairman of the Dooyang Cultural Foundation, has been one of South Korea’s most prominent collectors of designer furniture.
But a chance encounter more than a decade ago led him down an unexpected path—amassing one of the world’s most comprehensive collections of Polish posters from the 1950s and 1960s.
The discovery came during a trip to Poland to purchase furniture, where a seller casually asked if he had any interest in posters. What began as a passing curiosity quickly evolved into an obsession. Today, Oh owns more than 8,000 posters from a defining era in Polish graphic design.
“I was absolutely breathless when I first saw them,” Oh recalled in a recent interview at the E-HAM Campus in Yangpyeong, where his exhibition Silence, The Quiet Outcry is currently on display. “I knew I had to take them home, so I carried the entire steel cabinet where they were stored.”
Over the next three to four years, Oh methodically built his collection. Now, he believes there are few pieces left to acquire. “Someone who first introduced me to Polish posters told me that if anyone wants to find 1950s posters today, they may have to come to me,” he said.
While largely unfamiliar to South Korean audiences, Polish posters from the mid-20th century played a crucial role in shaping global graphic design. Unlike traditional posters designed to clearly convey information, Polish artists adopted a more abstract and conceptual approach, making their work highly distinctive. This movement became known as the “Polish Poster School.”
According to design columnist Kim Shin, who curated the exhibition, nearly 80 percent of Polish posters from this era were created for films. Unlike conventional movie posters that prominently feature actors and key scenes, Polish posters relied on metaphor and symbolism.
The Polish version of Roman Holiday, for instance, does not showcase Audrey Hepburn or Gregory Peck. Instead, it depicts the film’s princess protagonist under the arch of the Arc de Triomphe, while her royal attendants humorously search for her.
This unique artistic freedom was enabled by the state-run nature of Poland’s film industry at the time. With box office success being a secondary concern, designers had the liberty to experiment.
For Oh, the appeal of Polish posters is tied not only to their artistic merit but also to his personal philosophy of collecting beyond mainstream interests. “Fine art is already heavily collected by many people, so I didn’t feel the need to compete,” he said. “At international auctions, posters do get traded, but they aren’t expensive yet. That actually works in my favor—people still don’t fully recognize their value.”
Oh’s preference for the unconventional extends to the name of his exhibition space, E-HAM Campus. “I wanted something different from the usual ‘art center’ or ‘museum.’ A gallery is also a place of study, so I combined the word ‘E-Ham’—which means an empty vessel that can contain anything—with ‘campus.’”
Looking ahead, E-HAM Campus plans to continue introducing Polish posters to South Korean audiences. “Our goal is to elevate people’s appreciation for design,” Oh said. “Design is something we encounter daily, and it influences us in profound ways. Moving forward, we’ll alternate between exhibitions on design furniture and Polish posters.”
The current exhibition features over 200 posters, categorized into six sections based on themes such as metaphor, humor, integration of text and imagery, and painterly lyricism. Iconic posters for films like Roman Holiday and Sunset Boulevard are among the highlights.
Image credit: E-HAM Campus, Yonhap / photonews@koreabizwire.com