Henrik Uldalen, a Korean-born artist who was adopted by a Norwegian family as an infant, has opened up about his lifelong journey of identity and belonging through his deeply personal art exhibition in Seoul. The 38-year-old artist, who spent most of his life avoiding conversations about his adoption, recently confronted his past through a solo exhibition that explored themes of abandonment, acceptance, and self-discovery.
Born in Seoul in December 1986, Uldalen was adopted by a Norwegian couple when he was just a few months old. He grew up in Asker, a small town outside Oslo, with what he describes as a loving family including parents, two siblings, and friends. As a quiet child, he found solace in drawing and initially dreamed of becoming an art teacher before eventually pursuing a career as a professional artist and settling in London about a decade ago.
For most of his life, Uldalen focused on blending into the communities around him rather than exploring his Korean heritage. "I spent the majority of my life up until last year actively avoiding conversations about adoption," he revealed in an interview on November 12. "I shut down any attempt from my parents to talk about Korea and learn more about my life there." Uldalen simply wanted to be perceived as a "normal Norwegian."
However, over time, he began to recognize the impact of denying his true identity. "Over the years, it became clear that many things in my life directly correlated with refusing my true self – a lack of belonging anywhere, rootlessness, and biological and physical differences from Norwegians and most Westerners," he explained. This realization prompted a significant shift in his perspective and artistic approach.
The turning point came last year when Whitestone Gallery Seoul invited him to hold a solo exhibition. The exhibition, titled "Lost/Found," ran from August 30 to October 19 and featured approximately 30 works that served as what Uldalen described as "a raw and honest account of emotions around betrayal, abandonment and identity, but also acceptance and love." He explained his artistic process: "In order to find myself and really let go, I needed to paint primitively, almost like a child."
The paintings displayed in "Lost/Found" combined portraits with abstract forms, with one dominant motif throughout: distorted faces. According to Uldalen, these distorted faces reflect his own sense of being lost and have appeared in his previous works featuring human figures. He creates these effects by burning parts of the canvas or applying chemicals and wiping them away, resulting in haunting and powerful imagery.
Reflecting on his artistic evolution, Uldalen noted, "A large portion of my work over the past 15 years has revolved around existentialism, identity and change. It's taken years of self-discovery to understand myself and my art. Only in recent years have I realized that much of what I talked about in my earlier works is directly related to adoption, for better and worse."
Park Ji-young, director of Whitestone Gallery Seoul, explained that Uldalen's personal background was what initially drew her attention to his work. "Each year, we try to introduce European artists who aren't well-known in Korea," Park said. "When we were selecting artists to reach out to, his personal story made him stand out." She observed that visitors unfamiliar with Uldalen's background initially found the paintings "strong and frightening" at first glance, but once they learned his story, their understanding of the works deepened significantly.
Uldalen works primarily in oil paint, the medium that inspired him to pursue art professionally. "I always wanted to be an art teacher, but at 19, I discovered oil painting and that was it. I knew this was what I wanted to do for life," he said. Despite his expertise in oil painting, he doesn't want to be limited by a single medium and has recently begun exploring videography and cinematography as new avenues for artistic expression.
The exhibition brought Uldalen back to Korea for the first time in almost 25 years, with his last visit occurring at age 16. "Back then, I came with my Norwegian parents, but I had no interest. I was just a tourist," he recalled. His adoptive parents were deeply supportive of his decision to reconnect with Korea through his solo show. "After accepting the gallery's offer, I went to Norway and we spoke about it. Both of them cried – it was the first time I'd seen my dad cry – but out of happiness. They've wanted me to explore this part of my life for a long time. They told me, 'Don't worry, Henrik. Go on this journey and explore.' It was a really wonderful and touching moment."
Upon arriving in Korea, Uldalen was unprepared for the emotional response his exhibition would generate. "I didn't expect the openness and willingness to keep the dialogue going from Koreans who visited the show," he said. "At the gallery, I was called brother and son several times. I had long conversations and even cried with visitors. It was eye-opening and I now feel a strong urge to continue learning about Korea – the culture and its people."
During his time in Seoul, Uldalen and his wife explored the city by wandering through narrow alleys, subways, and traditional markets, experiencing what he described as "a good vibe." The couple is already planning to return to Korea next year to continue this journey of discovery.
Both before and after the exhibition, numerous Korean adoptees reached out to Uldalen to share their own experiences. "It's been a wild ride hearing all these stories – some horrendous, some wonderful," he said. "I had a wonderful upbringing, and many others did too, while some had the most horrible experiences." Learning about the Korean government's role in perpetuating systematic fraud in overseas adoptions unsettled him, but he has drawn an important conclusion from his experience: "The doors you avoid the most are exactly the ones you should open."
