The visual language
Every visual choice in Hanji answers to one idea: this is paper made to be written on and meant to last. Here is what that produced, and why.
Warm paper white
The background is a warm off-white, close to a fresh sheet, with the faintest grain laid over everything. Pure white is a screen. Warm white is paper. The difference is small, and you feel it on every page, the way you feel the difference between a glossy flyer and a good book.
An editorial serif
The reading type is Newsreader, a serif drawn for long-form reading, set large with a generous line-height and a comfortable measure. A knowledge base is a place you read, sometimes for a long time, and it should carry the calm of a good magazine rather than the density of a dashboard. The interface itself steps back into a quiet sans, so the writing stays the loudest thing on the page.
비색, the secret color
The accent is celadon (비색, bisaek), the blue-green glaze of Goryeo celadon that Korean potters a thousand years ago called the secret color. It is calm, it is unmistakably Korean, and it is almost never seen in software. It ties the product to a tradition of objects made by hand and meant to endure, which is the same claim hanji makes about paper.
The mark
The logo is ㅎ (hieut), the first consonant of 한 in 한지 and Hanji, cut back to its bones: a short top stroke, a horizontal bar, and a ring. The letter was already almost a mark, and we only had to clear away what it did not need. The three parts sit exactly where the letter puts them, so it reads as ㅎ to anyone who knows the alphabet and as a calm, balanced glyph to anyone who does not.
The mark keeps its own deep charcoal rather than taking the celadon of the text around it. Celadon is the accent of the writing surface, and the mark is the object that sits on the surface, so it holds its own weight, the way a seal pressed into paper is darker than the ink of the page. It is the single, deliberate exception to the color rule.
Restraint as the style
There is no chrome for its own sake, no gradient, no theatre of shadows. The craft lives in the spacing, the type, and one considered color. Elegance here is a matter of what we left out. Read Voice for how the same restraint shapes the words.