Teleport sits in an interesting space between studio and self-authored platform. Founded by four collaborators who chose to regroup and recalibrate during the disruptions of the pandemic, the Seoul-based agency approaches design less as a service pipeline and more as an ongoing position—one that is tested, questioned, and reshaped through each project it undertakes.
Central to that position is the idea of “도피”: a term Teleport deliberately leaves untranslated. Often read as “escape,” it carries a more nuanced meaning here—one that speaks to stepping away from inherited expectations, slowing the pace, and consciously deciding where to stand. Rather than presenting this as a slogan, Teleport treats it as a working method, explored through campaigns that behave like cultural artefacts: calendars that rethink how a day begins, compilation albums that turn philosophy into sound, and interactive projects that ask audiences to physically engage with ideas.
In this interview, Teleport reflects on how the studio came together, why it considers itself a “campaign brand in its own right,” and how typography shifts roles across their work with powerhouses like Nike—from narrative world-building to experiential systems.
Amber Weaver: Hi Teleport team! It’s great to sit down and chat a bit more about your studio concept. Let’s start with how Teleport was made.
Teleport: Teleport is a creative agency founded by four members: Byun Woo-kyung, Kim Jong-hwa, Lee Seungjoon, and Kim Ji-eon. Before starting Teleport, we all worked together at the same company, each in different roles.
When the COVID-19 pandemic began, all four of us eventually left our previous jobs at different points in time. Through that process, we naturally came back together and began discussing the idea of working in our own way, at a pace we truly believed in. That shared intention became the starting point of Teleport.
AW: We’d love to know more about your studio concept: “a campaign brand in its own right”. What does that mean?
T: Creative agencies inevitably work with clients. While client projects are always engaging and meaningful, they often require layers of coordination and compromise, which can make it difficult for a studio’s own perspective to be fully reflected in the final outcome.
Because of that, Teleport operates not only as a service studio but also as a brand in its own right, built around an attitude and message we call “도피.”
Although “도피” is commonly translated as “escape,” Teleport uses the word with a different intention. We deliberately keep it written in Korean rather than translating it into English, as we want to preserve a meaning that goes beyond a literal definition.
For Teleport, “도피” is not about avoiding reality. It is a conscious choice to step away from the default values, expectations, and speed imposed by society, and to reset one’s own coordinates—to decide where and how one wants to stand. Our work documents that shift. Rather than following directions presented as the correct answer, we are interested in exploring alternative possibilities and positions.
This idea of “도피” is expressed most clearly through our self-initiated projects, such as the 365 Cap Calendar and the 도피 Compilation Album.
The 365 Cap Calendar is an annual project that reflects how Teleport thinks about time. Since 2023, we have approached calendars not as tools for managing schedules, but as prompts that ask how one chooses to begin each day. A cap is an everyday object, but also something you consciously choose and put on. For us, it functions as a small declaration at the start of the day. The 365 Cap Calendar records that declaration repeated over the course of an entire year.
In 2024, we expanded the idea of “도피” into a music project through the 도피 Compilation Album, created in collaboration with Korean underground musicians including Kim Il-du, Jclef, Cadejo, Chudahye Chagis, Yoon Seok-cheol, Jinsu Young & Kim Do-eon, CIFIKA & Wade, and Holland & Hypnosis Therapy. Each artist interpreted the concept of “도피” through their own musical language, forming a collective yet diverse expression of the theme.
The project was further extended into an interactive rhythm game, where the compilation album itself became playable. By transforming music into an interface and experience, we wanted audiences to engage with “도피” not only as an idea to be understood, but as something to be physically and rhythmically experienced.
Through these projects, Teleport treats campaigns not as one-off outputs, but as ongoing narratives. In that sense, the studio itself functions as a campaign brand—one that continuously explores and records its own movement through “도피.”
AW: What are some of your studio’s key creative principles?
T: Rather than clearly defined rules written down as statements, Teleport’s creative principles exist more as shared attitudes among the members. In that sense, it may be more accurate to describe them as a creative mindset rather than fixed principles.
Some of those attitudes include:
• Continuously questioning how meaningful our work can be as an experience for people living in the same era.
• Treating the process of persuading clients and creative partners as an essential part of creation itself.
• Remembering the saying “there is usually a reason why others haven’t done it,” while still choosing to pursue what others avoid.
• Remaining open to new eras and change.
Even as we list these, they still feel somewhat unfinished. While we would like to articulate our principles more clearly one day, we also question how meaningful rigid principles can be in a world that changes so rapidly.
AW: Interesting, and what role does type and typography play within your work?
T: Because Teleport is a creative agency that includes a graphic studio, the role of typography varies greatly from project to project.
In some cases, typography becomes the core element that delivers the message most clearly. In others, it plays a more decorative or supporting role. Rather than applying typography in a fixed way, we define its function flexibly, depending on the nature and context of each project.
AW: Is there a project that comes to mind where you think your approach to type/typography spearheaded the project’s success?
T: Two projects come to mind.
The first is the Jordan UNBANNABLE project in 2025.
For this project, we collaborated with Korean musicians Silica Gel and Balming Tiger to create a fictional retro delivery company as the narrative framework of the campaign. The typography and overall branding were inspired by the visual language of Korean courier companies from the past—their utilitarian lettering, imperfect spacing, and distinctly local sense of rhythm.
Rather than treating typography as a purely aesthetic element, we used it as a tool to immediately situate people within a familiar but fictional world. The typographic choices helped communicate the project’s concept clearly and intuitively, allowing participants to understand the story and tone of the campaign at a glance.
The second project is NIKELAB SEOUL 2025, an exhibition themed RECORDED FUTURE. The exhibition paired Nike’s innovative products with artists from Seoul, exploring how future visions are shaped through acts of recording.
For the main title typography, we focused on expressing the idea of “recording” in a metaphorical way. We analysed the structure of optical signal storage devices and translated that logic into a dot-based typographic system. Each dot represents a unit of recorded information, and their accumulation forms new shapes and meanings. The typography was designed with a layered structure, allowing it to be easily overlaid and rewritten on top of other visual elements throughout the exhibition.
As part of the exhibition program, we further explored typography by collaborating with 26 Korean design studios and designers to create a Dingbat font. This font was inspired by written characters themselves—originally invented as tools for recording information in human civilisation. Visitors were invited to use the Dingbat font to create clocks, transforming abstract symbols into instruments that visualise time.
This program became one of the clearest experiential interpretations of the RECORDED FUTURE theme, allowing audiences to engage with typography not just as something to read, but as something to construct, manipulate, and experience.
AW: Any advice on designers wanting to build their own studio?
T: We think it makes sense to start when you genuinely believe that you—and the studio you want to build—can do something better than existing studios, at least in certain aspects. If you feel that way, your vision is probably already clear, and our advice may not be necessary.
In that case, we’d simply say: do it your way.
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