Korean Artist Watercolors Cities She Visits

Some travel souvenirs are magnets. Some are mugs. And some are the kind of watercolor cityscapes that make you feel like you’ve stepped into a half-remembered dreamsoft edges, drifting pigment, and just enough crisp architectural detail to make your brain whisper, “Yep. I’ve been there… I think.”

That hazy, cinematic feeling is exactly what makes Korean artist and illustrator Sunga Park so fun to look at. Her architectural watercolors don’t just document a locationthey recreate the way a place lingers in your head after you’ve gone home: the landmark you can describe, the street you can’t quite name, the sky that refuses to be one single shade of blue. In this article, we’ll tour the cities that show up in her work, break down the visual tricks that give her paintings their “memory glow,” and steal a few practical ideas for anyone who wants to paint travel moments without turning their vacation into an unpaid, full-time art residency.

Meet the Korean Artist Behind the Dreamy Cityscapes

Watercolor as a passport stamp (but prettier)

Park’s city paintings are rooted in architecturebridges, cathedrals, rooftops, and iconic street corners. Instead of presenting buildings like a postcard (sharp, centered, and painfully polite), she lets them dissolve into the paper as if they’re surfacing from fog. The result feels both intimate and universal: you don’t need to know the exact address to recognize the experience of standing still, looking up, and thinking, “Wow. Humans really built that.”

Why her buildings fade on purpose

The disappearing edges aren’t a mistake. They’re the point. Park often balances sharply described detailswindows, arches, rooflineswith washes that blur and run. Those drips and soft transitions mimic the way travel memories work: the important parts stay crisp, while everything else melts into mood. It’s also a clever way to invite the viewer into the image. Your eyes “finish” what the brush only suggests, which makes the painting feel personal even if you’ve never set foot in the city.

Why Watercolor Is the Perfect Medium for Painting Places You Visit

Watercolor’s superpower is light

Watercolor is famous for its luminositythin, transparent layers let light bounce off the white of the paper and shine back through the pigment. That glow is hard to fake in heavier, more opaque paint. It’s one reason travel scenes look so alive in watercolor: skies can stay airy, stone can feel sunlit, and shadows can remain gentle instead of turning into a sad gray blanket.

Small kit, big payoff

For travel, watercolor is basically the carry-on champion. A compact set of pans, a water brush, and a small sketchbook can fit in a day bag. You can paint quickly, layer later, and (unlike some other mediums) you don’t need a studio setup that screams, “I have converted this café table into my personal art empire.”

Paper matters more than people expect

Watercolor paper isn’t just “thicker printer paper.” The surface and sizing (a treatment that affects absorbency) change everythinghow far a wash spreads, how sharp an edge stays, whether you can lift paint, and how smoothly colors blend. If Park’s cityscapes look effortlessly misty, part of that magic is knowing how watercolor behaves on paper when you push it toward softness instead of fighting for control.

The Cities in Her Sketchbook: A Tour Through Landmarks and Mood

Park’s work frequently features architecture from well-known citiesplaces where buildings feel like characters. Below are several locations commonly associated with her watercolor city studies, along with what makes each city especially “watercolor-friendly.”

London: stone, symmetry, and rainy-day romance

London’s architecture gives watercolor artists a buffet of textures: pale stone, dark ironwork, repetitive windows, and moody skies that practically beg for soft washes. Park’s London scenes often lean into atmospheresuggesting drizzle, distance, and the way historic buildings hold their posture even when the weather is doing the most.

If you’re painting London-inspired architecture, try focusing on one “anchor detail” (a row of windows, a recognizable entrance, a tower silhouette) and letting the surrounding street fade into light washes. That contrastsharp vs. softis where the cinematic feeling lives.

Paris: delicate ornament, big shapes, and instant nostalgia

Paris is basically an open-air museum of façades: balconies, moldings, mansard roofs, and creamy stone that catches light beautifully. Park’s Paris scenes often feel like a memory you can almost nameromantic without being sugary, detailed without becoming rigid.

A practical approach for Paris-like subjects: block in the main building shapes first (big, simple silhouettes), then pick only a handful of decorative details to sharpen. Let the rest dissolve. Your viewers will fill in the “Paris-ness” on their ownbecause everyone carries a mental postcard of Paris whether they’ve been there or not.

Venice: reflections, warm plaster, and the joy of “good enough”

Venice is watercolor heaven because water is already part of the scene. Reflections, soft edges, and shifting colors are built into the environment. Even a loose wash can read as canal water if you place it confidently.

Want a Venice effect without painting every brick? Keep the architecture slightly sharper than the water, then let the reflection be messy. In watercolor, “messy” often translates to “realistic,” which is deeply unfair to perfectionistsbut also very freeing.

Istanbul: domes, contrast, and dramatic skyline rhythm

Istanbul’s skyline is full of bold, memorable geometrydomes, minarets, layered rooftopsmaking it ideal for Park’s style of crisp-meets-diffuse. Strong silhouettes give the eye something to hold onto while washes can suggest haze, sun, or the city’s famous in-between light.

Painting tip: start with the largest shapes (domes and roof masses), then add a few sharp accents (edges, windows, or a single minaret detail). Leave space for the wash to do the atmospheric storytelling.

Oxford: scholarly stone and quiet structure

Oxford architecture is built for line-and-wash approaches: strong perspective lines, repeating arches, and stone that looks gorgeous with muted color. Park’s Oxford scenes often feel calmlike the city is speaking in a library voice.

If you’re sketching Oxford-like streets, choose a viewpoint with clear perspective (a corridor, a courtyard, a street that narrows). Perspective does a lot of the “wow” work, so you can stay loose with color.

Busan: modern energy meets lived-in texture

Busan adds a different flavor: contemporary infrastructure, layered neighborhoods, and the kind of “daily life” architecture that isn’t always treated as postcard material. That contrast can be powerfulbecause it shows that beauty isn’t limited to famous monuments. A highway curve, an apartment block, or a street packed with signage can be just as visually compelling when painted with intention.

Croatia and European rooftops: pattern, density, and story

Dense rooftopsespecially the kind you find in parts of Europeare a watercolor playground. Repeating shapes create pattern; warm terracotta hues create instant mood. Park’s approach shines here because she can choose a few rooftops to define precisely, then let the rest dissolve into color and suggestion. It feels like looking at a city from a hilltop while your memory gently edits out the clutter.

How She Turns Buildings Into Memories

Fragmentation: the art of not painting everything

One of Park’s most distinctive choices is what she doesn’t paint. Instead of fully enclosing every structure, she uses negative space and partial edges to imply form. This creates a “floating” effectlike architecture emerging from mistand it keeps the painting from feeling heavy.

Drips that behave like time

In travel watercolors, drips can be either a disaster or a design element. Park treats them as design. A drip can feel like rain in London, heat shimmer in Istanbul, or motion in a crowded street. It also signals spontaneityproof that the piece was made by a human with water, gravity, and feelings, not a printer.

Soft palettes that leave room for emotion

Instead of hyper-real color matching, Park’s palette often leans into mood: airy blues, muted neutrals, soft warm highlights. That’s a smart move for travel work because your goal isn’t to replicate a GPS coordinateit’s to recreate a sensation. Viewers don’t remember the exact shade of a wall. They remember how the light hit it.

Where This Fits in the Bigger Movement: Urban Sketching

Park’s city-focused approach connects naturally to the global culture of urban sketchingartists who draw on location to tell the story of where they live and travel. Urban sketching isn’t about photographic perfection; it’s about attention. It’s the practice of showing up, looking closely, and recording a moment in a way that feels personal.

Even if Park’s finished pieces sometimes look like refined studio works, the spirit is the same: a city becomes a subject because it was experienced. That’s why her paintings resonate onlinebecause people recognize the emotional truth of travel, not just the architecture.

Steal This Travel-Watercolor Routine (Without Turning Your Trip Into Homework)

1) Pick one “hero building,” then let the rest be supporting cast

Choose a focal pointa cathedral façade, a bridge, a famous storefront, a dramatic roofline. Paint that with the most detail. Everything else can be simplified into shapes and washes. This keeps your painting readable and prevents the dreaded “I tried to paint everything and now nothing looks important” problem.

2) Start with a simple pencil map, not a masterpiece drawing

You’re not drafting blueprints. You’re placing big shapes so the building feels stable. Lightly mark the horizon line, major verticals, and key angles. Then move on. Watercolor rewards confidence, not overthinking.

3) Use “line-and-wash” when you want structure fast

For architecture, many artists outline major shapes in waterproof ink, then add watercolor washes. The line holds the form; the wash supplies atmosphere. It’s a great option when you’re sketching outdoors and the light keeps changing like it’s being paid to be difficult.

4) Limit your palette like you’re packing a carry-on

A small palette (even 6–12 colors) is enough for travel sketches. Mix neutrals, push warm/cool contrasts, and let the paper do the bright highlights. This also keeps your scenes visually cohesiveone of the reasons dreamy city watercolors feel so harmonious.

5) Leave deliberate gaps

Want the “memory fade” effect? Don’t fill every corner. Leave white space. Let a wash break. Allow an edge to disappear. Those choices give the viewer breathing roomand give your painting its emotional tone.

Beginner-Friendly Travel Materials That Actually Help

A compact pan set (plus a little water)

Travel pan sets are designed for portability and quick washes. Many include mixing wells and fit easily in a bag. Pair that with a small water bottle or a refillable water brush for easy painting on the go.

Watercolor paper that can take a wash

If you want soft blends and controlled drips, use real watercolor paper. Cold press paper gives texture; hot press gives a smoother surface for crisp ink lines. Either worksjust pick one that can handle water without buckling into a potato chip.

Travel brushes that don’t shed their personality

A travel round brush can handle detail and broader washes with pressure changes. A small flat brush is handy for skies and architectural planes. The goal is versatility, not a suitcase full of tools.

Conclusion: The City You Visited, the City You Remember

Sunga Park’s watercolor cities are a reminder that travel art doesn’t have to be a perfect visual record to be true. In fact, the most honest travel paintings often look a little unfinishedbecause memories are unfinished. They’re selective. They’re emotional. They’re stitched together from sharp details and soft blanks.

Whether she’s painting London stonework, Paris rooftops, Venice reflections, Istanbul silhouettes, Oxford quiet corners, or the lived-in geometry of Busan, Park turns architecture into something more human: a place as felt, not just a place as seen. And if you want to paint the cities you visit, you don’t need to copy her exact style. You just need to borrow her core idea: let the paper hold the silence, and let the watercolor hold the atmosphere.

Extra: of City-Sketching Experience (So the Article Is Longerand Your Sketchbook Feels Less Scary)

Picture this: you’re in a city you’ve wanted to see forever. You tell yourself you’ll “sketch later,” which is a classic travel lieright up there with “I’ll definitely wake up early every day.” But today you actually do it. You find a spot where the building has a clear shape against the sky. Maybe it’s a corner storefront, maybe it’s a cathedral tower, maybe it’s a bridge that looks like it’s been photobombing postcards since the invention of cameras.

You open your sketchbook and immediately realize the first challenge of travel watercolor: everything is moving. People walk through your view. Cars pause in inconvenient places. The light shifts. The clouds change their minds. Your brain tries to solve this by demanding perfection, which is adorablebut not helpful. So you do the most important thing: you choose what matters. One roofline. One arch. One row of windows. One bold silhouette that tells the viewer, “This is the place.”

You make a quick pencil mapjust enough to keep the building from falling over. Then you add a few ink lines, not every line. Just the ones that feel like the building’s bones. Suddenly the city looks less like chaos and more like a story with a beginning, middle, and “please don’t smear that.”

Now the watercolor: you wet your brush, pick up a pale wash, and lay it down like you’re testing the water temperature with your toe. And then the magic happens. The pigment spreads. Edges soften. The paper starts doing the heavy lifting. Your sky becomes atmosphere instead of “blue area.” Your stone becomes light instead of “gray problem.” You add a warmer tone near the sunlit side of the building, and the whole scene perks up like it just remembered it has a personality.

At some point, a drip appears. Old you would panic. New youtravel-sketcher youlooks at it and thinks, “Okay, rain in London,” or “Okay, humidity in Venice,” or “Okay, the universe has added a special effect.” You tilt the page slightly and let gravity turn mistake into mood. That’s the secret of dreamy city watercolors: they aren’t fighting water. They’re collaborating with it.

By the time you close your sketchbook, you don’t just have a picture. You have a memory that’s been translated into color and paper. Weeks later, when the trip feels far away, you’ll look at that half-faded building and remember the exact moment: the sound of street traffic, the smell of coffee, the feeling of standing still while the city moved around you. And that’s the real win. The painting doesn’t need to be perfectit just needs to be yours.