Designing Data as Everyday Things: An Interview with Prof. Young-Woo Park

In this interview, we meet Associate Professor Young-Woo Park. The interview was conducted by Assistant Professor Dajung Kim on Monday, February 24, in Professor Park’s office.

DJK: Hi Young-Woo, thanks for making time for this interview today. We’ve known each other for a long time—even before UNIST—but I don’t think we’ve ever had a chance to talk about your story in depth. So I’m really excited about today’s conversation. If you’re ready, shall we start?

YWP: That’s true. Sure, let’s begin. 

DJK: It turns out that this is your 10th year at UNIST. Congratulations! 10 years ago, you founded the IPD lab. Could you first share the story behind that name?

YWP: IPD stands for Interactive Product Design. The name wasn’t born from a grand vision, but rather from a desire to create an environment where I could pursue the kind of research I truly wanted to do. After years of working as a graduate student and postdoc, I wanted to carve out a space to explore my own ideas freely. At the time, I was mostly working on product-centered projects, and having majored in HCI, the term “interaction” was inseparable from my identity. So I casually combined “interaction” and “product” and came up with the tentative name IPD, but it has been used in multiple papers and adopted by graduate alumni—so I decided to keep it to continue our legacy.

DJK: When you first founded the lab, what kind of vision or dream did you have in mind?

YWP: Since high school, I had always dreamed of becoming an industrial designer. I was drawn to styling and emotional and psychological aspects of aesthetics. In undergrad, I was especially interested in graphic design and typography. Initially, I planned to pursue that path, but under my parents’ recommendation, I majored in computer science—which gave me a technical foundation I hadn’t originally intended. That’s how I unintentionally became a “designer who could code.” (laughs) In grad school, I tried to find a domain where I could integrate these skills, which led me to the field of Human-Computer Interaction (HCI).

At the same time, I still had a strong desire to work with physical materials—things that had form and substance. During my travels back then, I visited a museum shop and was inspired by various goods made of concrete, like a simple pencil holder. It struck me: what if I combined this kind of material with physical computing? Something static like concrete and, at the same time, dynamic like interactive technologies—together, they could create a new kind of interaction. Unlike the engineering-heavy prototypes I’d seen in HCI, I thought, maybe this could lead to creating meaningful, novel and aesthetically pleasing experiences for users. 

That idea led me to experiment with students who had just joined the lab. We made concrete molds and poured them ourselves, combining them with Arduino setups. It was driven purely by curiosity and play. Looking back, that process became the origin of the IPD lab. Then the lab became a place where I could merge my design aspirations with my HCI experiences—a space to pursue what had long felt missing.

DJK: I can see how deeply you were drawn to aesthetics and material experiences, which has now become integral to your lab’s identity, especially as it merges with technology.

YWP: Yes, exactly. That was what I originally wanted to do. I came back to my original interest eventually. (laughs)

DJK: Now that the lab has been running for ten years, are there any particular projects or research experiences that stand out to you as especially memorable?

YWP: Two projects stand out the most. One was our first publication in 2017, back when the lab had just started. The other is a PhD student’s project that will be published this year. What makes these two memorable is how different the research processes were. Though we used similar methodologies, the dynamics I had with the students were completely different.

The first project was a very hands-on collaboration with two students, aiming to build an interactive clock linked to Google Calendar. It was like a small team project. I took care of pouring concrete, one student handled 3D modeling, and the other worked on touch sensors. Every day we’d check if the molds came out right and celebrate small wins together. I was involved in the whole process from making prototypes, conducting a field study, and to filming and publishing our work.

In contrast, the recent PhD project was almost entirely student-led. The student handled everything from concept development to user studies. I only gave feedback every 2–3 weeks. The student managed a long-term study independently and created a well-crafted prototype. Watching that unfold, I felt proud that the lab had matured—but I also found myself missing the intensity and joy of those earlier, more hands-on days.

DJK: It sounds like the lab has evolved—a kind of natural progression from professor-led to student-driven research.

YWP: Exactly. These days, students work faster and smarter than I do. In the past, my direct involvement was crucial, but now it can even slow things down. That shift speaks to how both the methodology and the mindset in the lab have matured. I do cherish those earlier days, but seeing students grow independently is incredibly rewarding in its own way.

DJK: Your work consistently uses batch prototyping and long-term field studies. What led you to adopt these methods as core practices?

YWP: Honestly, it started with practical reasons. Lab-based HCI experiments might take a day or two, but field studies usually run for at least two to three weeks. If you test with one participant at a time, it takes forever. So we needed at least three prototypes to run in parallel—sometimes even five. We deploy four sets in the field and keep one as a backup. This approach had an unexpected benefit: students had to build robust prototypes. Unlike one-time demos, our research prototypes had to function consistently for weeks. That meant improvements in programming, finishing, and design. It was demanding, but students learned a lot through that process.

DJK: I noticed that you’re now running longer-term studies spanning from 4 to 6 months. What led you to extend the study duration that much?

YWP: That happened for the first time, recently. Until now, our studies typically lasted 3–4 weeks. But a PhD student suggested trying something longer, and we went for a six-month study. It turned out to be really valuable. You see, the first week or two are always an adjustment period for participants. If you’re testing something like a tangible music player connected to Spotify, people need time to set up playlists and get used to the system. The real insights emerge only after that. So now we often build in a separate adaptation phase, followed by a 4-week main study. This structure helps filter out novelty effects and gives us a clearer picture of real-world use.

DJK: That kind of extended engagement must call for more nuanced research design and analysis.

YWP: Definitely. We used to rely mostly on interviews, but now we also visualize log data and triangulate it with interview findings. For example, if we have a month’s worth of usage logs, we visualize them like infographics, identify behavioral patterns, and combine those with qualitative insights. When both types of data reinforce each other, our arguments become much stronger. That also means students have more to do—but they’re also learning to generate deeper insights through the process.

DJK: The core research theme in the IPD lab is giving physical forms to intangible data. What is the underlying motivation of pursuing this line of research? 

YWP: These days, we store countless personal data—photos, music, messages—on our smartphones or in the cloud. But it’s hard to extract meaning from it. The data is captured, but confronting or reflecting on it meaningfully through smart devices alone isn’t easy. That’s where physical artifacts come in. When we create dedicated, tangible objects for specific types of data, they allow us to focus, reflect, and even uncover new insights. It’s like giving forgotten data a new form of value. Think of film cameras—there’s a sensory experience in waiting, printing, holding, and browsing through photos. That whole process deepens our memories.

Now that those rituals are fading, I wanted to explore how we might bring them back in new forms. With students, I’ve tried translating various data types into physical expressions: concrete, displays, vibration, lighting, and more.

DJK: So the key lies in matching the nature of the data with the right material expression.

YWP: Exactly. That’s the fun of it.

DJK: Do you have any framework or principle for deciding how to match data and material?

YWP: It often starts from something that feels lacking. For example, think of those three animated dots that show when someone is typing in a chat. That brief pause carries cognitive and emotional weight. I start wondering: what would it look like if we made that waiting experience tangible? Students also bring in their own discomforts or curiosities—delayed messages, nostalgic photos, music memories. I help them unpack those ideas and turn them into tangible concepts.

DJK: Of all the data types you’ve worked with, which ones stand out as the most interesting or memorable?

YWP: Two cases come to mind. One is a project that combined photo and music data; the other dealt with audiobooks. The photo-music project was called Slide2Remember—which we published at the DIS conference. The concept was like this: A photo frame displays an old photo from the past—say, from February 14, 2014. When you slide the photo frame, it plays music you used to listen to around that time. The two types of data evoke memory in very different ways. Photos bring back specific moments; music evokes a broader, more emotional recall. Sometimes users were surprised by how strongly they remembered something—or by how the photo and music together shaped the experience of reminiscing.

The other memorable project was based on audiobook data from a service called Millie’s Library. One student proposed it. Unlike paper books, audiobooks lack any physical cues—no bookmarks, no folded corners. So it felt like a perfect candidate for materialization. The student created a physical interface for navigating audiobooks, and it aligned beautifully with our lab’s focus.

DJK: Many of your lab’s outcomes feel experimentally rich yet also commercially viable. Have you ever considered commercialization or industry collaboration?

YWP: That question comes up all the time—at conferences and talks. People ask, “Can I buy this?” or “Do you have commercialization plans?” It’s flattering, but there’s a gap.

Companies often see our work as too context-specific. They struggle to imagine how these artifacts might fit into their existing product lines—like TVs or fridges. So while they find it interesting, they don’t see it as marketable.

And to be honest, serious commercialization would require students to shift away from learning and exploration, and focus on refinement and production. That undermines the core of what we do. University is a place for experimentation, not manufacturing. So I’ve intentionally kept a distance from that route.

DJK: Still, the fact that people ask means your work is clearly high in quality.

YWP: Maybe. Some say, “This is ready for market!” But commercialization has its own systems and goals. It’s not my priority. That said, I’ve thought about creating a collection—maybe a book or exhibit—near retirement. Just not in a way that burdens the students.

DJK: That makes sense. Shifting gears—have there been moments in your research career when you felt lost or unsure?

YWP: To be honest, I’ve never fixated on “growing as a researcher.” Research, to me, is a means of expression—a tool. I didn’t become a professor to rack up citations or to be a keynote speaker. I simply wanted a space where I could do what I love, my own way. The lab, the work with students—that’s all part of that process. As long as I don’t lose sight of that, I don’t feel lost.

DJK: That’s a grounding perspective. Is there anything new you’re excited to explore these days?

YWP: I’ve recently been thinking a lot about “Physical AI.” People often imagine AI as a humanoid robot, but it doesn’t have to look like that. Everyday objects can embody intelligence in more subtle ways. It might not even speak—it could just respond physically. That kind of quiet, embedded intelligence feels worth exploring. It could very well become the next chapter for our lab.

DJK: Lastly, do you have any advice for students interested in joining IPD?

YWP:  Still, I’d say, don’t be intimidated. You don’t have to be extraordinary to start. Many senior students started out unsure. This field lets you grow by doing, and there’s huge fulfillment in seeing something you made used in real life—especially when it’s tied to personal data. So I’d encourage anyone curious to just try it.

DJK: I feel like I’ve got to know you more deeply through this conversation. I hope the readers feel the same. Thank you so much for the insights and messages you’ve shared today.

YWP: Thank you. I really enjoyed it too.