Today we’d like to introduce you to Su Lee.
Hi Su, thanks for joining us today. We’d love for you to start by introducing yourself.
Like many people in sound, music was my gateway. It was the only space where I felt like I could truly breathe. But ironically, that’s what made me hesitate—I was afraid that if I turned music into a career, I might lose the joy it brought me. So I kept it close to my heart, but at a distance from my future plans.
In my early twenties, while struggling to find a major in college, I watched The Handmaiden by Park Chan-wook. Of course, it’s an incredible film overall, but what truly captivated me was the bath scene. Without any dramatic flair, the subtle sounds of grinding teeth, trickling water, and the faint breath completely drew me in. That moment made me fall in love with sound design. I immediately decided to transfer into the film program at the University of Texas at Austin, where I was fortunate to be accepted.
Unfortunately, before I could dive deep into sound courses, the pandemic hit. I had to return to Korea, and for the next two years, I worked as an assistant director at a broadcasting station. I was grateful for the experience and the people I met, but the longing to truly study cinematic sound never left me. That desire eventually led me to apply to the USC School of Cinematic Arts, where I was accepted and finally came to Los Angeles.
During my time at USC, I committed myself fully—I made it a goal to take every sound class the school offered, and by my fifth semester, I had taken them all. From legendary professors with multiple Oscars to younger instructors using cutting-edge techniques, I was constantly inspired and challenged. I took classes in sound art to sharpen my artistic sensitivity, and courses like Recording for Film Score to hone my technical skills. These experiences shaped me into not just a sound technician but a true sonic storyteller.
Now, with just one semester left until graduation, I’ve grown into a sound designer with a unique voice and a re-recording mixer who thrives on powerful mixes. I love this work so deeply that I can’t imagine doing anything else. Pro Tools has become my canvas, and sound, my native language. From thunderous low-end frequencies that make your chest vibrate to silences so delicate they hold the room still, I’ve come to love every corner of the sonic spectrum. And until the day I can no longer work, I want to continue immersing people in my sonic world.
We all face challenges, but looking back would you describe it as a relatively smooth road?
In some ways, I adapted to this field relatively quickly—ever since I was a child, I’ve been sensitive to sound and had a vivid auditory imagination. But the biggest struggle was translating the sounds in my head into a Pro Tools session. I often knew exactly what I wanted to hear, but didn’t yet know which tools or techniques could help me achieve it. I spent countless hours experimenting with the software, often feeling frustrated when the results didn’t match my intentions.
What helped me through that phase were the classes taught by Professors Stephen Flick and Richard Burton. They had an uncanny ability to immediately recognize the gaps in my sound designs and guide me toward solutions—how to fill the space not just with sound, but with meaning. Their classes were incredibly challenging, but equally rewarding.
I also learned a lot from listening to the work of my peers. At times, I would hear a design approach I never would’ve thought of, and it would completely shift the way I imagined a scene. Those moments reminded me of the immense value of the sound community—the way we inspire and elevate each other through collaboration and exchange.
Thanks – so what else should our readers know about your work and what you’re currently focused on?
At this point in my career, I work across many areas of sound—sound editing, re-recording mixing, scoring engineering, and production sound mixing. In my free time, I still compose music and create sound installation art. While re-recording mixing is currently my primary focus, I find it difficult to identify with just one title. I think of myself more as a sonic artist who moves freely across disciplines.
If I were to describe the style of my work, it typically features a wide dynamic range and strong low-end elements. I’m especially drawn to the physical sensation of bass-heavy sound—the kind that resonates in your body. I frequently utilize LFE to create this immersive effect, because I’m fascinated by the idea of sound that goes beyond hearing—sound that vibrates through your bones and skin.
There’s something empowering about being a small Asian woman in a dark theater, shaking the seats and making hundreds of people’s hearts race. It makes me feel larger than life—like I’m tapping into something primal and transcendent. That raw, visceral energy is what I’m most proud of in my work.
What sets me apart is how deeply I identify with sound, not just as a medium, but as a way of living. I try to live like sound itself. To me, life feels a lot like sound: fleeting, fragile, and impossible to hold. Like a sound that disappears the moment it’s spoken, our lives, too, vanish in an instant. And just as sound exists fully in the present, I want to live that way—giving everything I have to each moment.
That’s why I devote myself completely to sound. I want to live a life that surrounds people, moves them, resonates with them—even if only for a moment. Sound is not just my profession; it’s my philosophy.
Can you share something surprising about yourself?
I have a pet rabbit named Simon. I know rabbits aren’t the most conventional pet, but I think they’re a perfect match for people in post-production sound. Living with Simon has helped me grow as a sonic artist. He’s incredibly sensitive to sound, often reacting to frequencies I don’t consciously notice. Watching him respond has trained me to listen more attentively to my surroundings.
As humans living in urban spaces, we tend to tune out the ambient noises around us. But through Simon, I’ve learned to notice those subtle layers—the neighbors walking down the hallway with jingling keys, the distant barks of dogs, the textures we usually overlook. Observing his reactions has deepened my understanding of what truly makes up a sonic environment. Sometimes, I even incorporate those observations into my sound design.
Of course, that’s not the only reason I live with him. Simon is cute, lazy in the best way, and basically a tiny loaf with the softest fur in the world. I love him.
Image Credits
Ji Lee
Dhruvraj Singh Bhati
Chris Schmitt
