Onto The Next!
After Relocating to California, Yeh-Rim Lee Shares With Us Her Past Few Years Shaped By Clay
DK:
Let’s start with your most recent residency – how was it at Archie Bray Foundation?
Let’s start with your most recent residency – how was it at Archie Bray Foundation?
YL:
It was amazing. I was at a couple of other residencies after moving to the States, and getting into Archie Bray was an ambition I set for myself when I was researching because their residency is the most well-known. The facility, the studio space, and the fellow resident artists created an environment that helped me to further my practice.
It was amazing. I was at a couple of other residencies after moving to the States, and getting into Archie Bray was an ambition I set for myself when I was researching because their residency is the most well-known. The facility, the studio space, and the fellow resident artists created an environment that helped me to further my practice.
DK:
It must’ve been a dream-come-true moment for you!
It must’ve been a dream-come-true moment for you!
YL:
Yes, I have had a blessed journey. Cal State Long Beach had a great post-bac program that helped me prepare for graduate school. I went to Alfred University and specialised in American ceramics. After grad school, I spent time at the University of Georgia as a visiting artist, then at the Clay Studio in Philadelphia right before my last residency at Archie Bray. So, everything really went according to plan [laughs].
Yes, I have had a blessed journey. Cal State Long Beach had a great post-bac program that helped me prepare for graduate school. I went to Alfred University and specialised in American ceramics. After grad school, I spent time at the University of Georgia as a visiting artist, then at the Clay Studio in Philadelphia right before my last residency at Archie Bray. So, everything really went according to plan [laughs].
DK:
You mentioned living in different geographical locations throughout the States, do you feel that there is a difference in approach or attitude toward ceramics between those states?
You mentioned living in different geographical locations throughout the States, do you feel that there is a difference in approach or attitude toward ceramics between those states?
YL:
Yes and no. Because it was such a cultural shock coming to the US, I don’t know if I noticed the regional differences as much. Mostly, I was acculturating myself to the culture at large. I suppose, when I was on the West Coast, California, people liked to create large-scale and elaborate pieces, perhaps, because people were very expressive.
DK:
I see; in some of your past interviews, you’ve spoken about the balance between ‘individualism’ of the US and ‘collective community’ of the East—how have you been able to fuse these concepts into your work?
I see; in some of your past interviews, you’ve spoken about the balance between ‘individualism’ of the US and ‘collective community’ of the East—how have you been able to fuse these concepts into your work?
YL:
My parents also work with ceramics—my father is an Onggi potter. I was immersed in an environment of traditional sensibilities and aesthetics. I had never imagined that I could separate those elements from my own practice. But one day, Tony Marsh, my professor at CSULB, said to me that creating Korean forms of ceramics is not the only way to express my Korean identity. When I first arrived at Cal State Long Beach, I made works like the Buddha heads, but Tony said I was allowed to only think of myself, which is what I truly wanted to do, especially when I was studying in a foreign institute, in a foreign country. There were always a lot of things I took away from critiques, but I can say that this was the most impactful advice to me!
DK:
It must’ve been a cultural shock to you, from creating traditional forms of work to more abstract pieces that you’re now very comfortable with — how was the transition?
It must’ve been a cultural shock to you, from creating traditional forms of work to more abstract pieces that you’re now very comfortable with — how was the transition?
YL:
I had that conversation with Tony two months after arriving in the States, but I didn’t know where to start. So, I asked the visiting artists and professors around me, and they told me not to overthink it — a suggestion was to start by finding my aesthetic. I went to the library and researched my favourite artists; the common denominator was that I liked works that were bold, expressive, colorful, and full of texture. My transition started with the self-recognition of what I liked. Then the process was natural because I let my hands work freely.
Three months prior to when I moved to the States, my father taught me the Onggi technique of pottery. He told me that when it comes to craftsmanship, skill and technique become confidence for future creation. I truly felt that during my exploration phase.
Honestly, I continue to explore, and to answer your question—the ‘individualism’ provided me the freedom to express myself, and the ‘collectivism’, the Korean sensibilities and techniques, provided me the confidence of feeling grounded in my traditional background. You know, when you live here for some time, it all gets confused. [Laughs]
DK:
Of course.
Of course.
YL:
We’re in that kind of position. Clay is something that myself and my parents continually interact with, and through clay, I’ve received my education in Korea and China—it’s almost like my sibling. When I feel lonely, I play with clay; when I’m frustrated, I play with clay—because it’s my medium of expression I think it all connects. Reading through the question list before the interview, I thought that I can just narrate the story of my life to answer—because it is all interconnected [laughs].
DK:
Has moving between different states impacted your work?
Has moving between different states impacted your work?
YL:
Physically moving the work is hard. Living on the East and West coast, and then in the South—with the Onggi technique I let myself pour out into the works. No sketch and no planning. I was just creating—big, small, especially with lots of color because it’s rarely used in traditional Korean ceramics. But by the time I was accepted to graduate school after a year, I realised that I had created too many works. I didn’t know what to do; and I ended up smashing a lot of the pieces or giving away some of the ones that I couldn’t get myself to dispose of. It wasn’t easy to do.
When I got to Alfred University (East coast) for the graduate program, I found myself being timid and self-conscious. I was already worrying about what I would do with the finished pieces in the end!
DK:
Oh no!
Oh no!
YL:
If I were at my hometown and my parents lived close by, I would be able to drive there and drop it off, but as a foreigner—I’m sure you understand—you must always think about the objects that you carry around with you.
DK:
Absolutely. At the new school, were you able to resolve some of that by talking to some of the teaching staff there? And was their teaching method different from learning from some of the masters in Korea/China?
Absolutely. At the new school, were you able to resolve some of that by talking to some of the teaching staff there? And was their teaching method different from learning from some of the masters in Korea/China?
YL:
I couldn’t create anything at all. And yes—I think I’ve met a lot of great teachers while I was in school in the States. They tend to be more sympathetic with your struggles. A suggestion was to express that timidness through clay because the least I could do is play with it to give myself a peace of mind, and I didn’t have to create anything grand; so, I started creating small pieces—and a lot of them! That was the beginning of my installation pieces. I began to experiment with fragmented pieces that collectively would conjoin to form a bigger piece. I also started using soft materials like paper, plastic, and yarn to weave in the concept of ephemerality to my work while also using unfired clay to fill in the void.
But in a year’s time, I began to miss the physicalness of creation, especially when I finished touring my installation pieces. I felt empty because the set up would disappear in the end. The end of that was the beginning of my residency at Archie Bray. I also got married then—which made me think about furniture. Nomadic life dictated a lot of the direction of my practice throughout the years. When I read the questionnaire you sent over, they were all questions that I think about when I work!
DK:
Thank you! It’s quite interesting that you bring this up—when I was doing research, I was looking at your website portfolio, and, as you’ve said, there were installations, furniture, and, recently, sculptural objects—but I noticed that they didn’t have descriptions to them. I was curious about how it was woven all together.
Thank you! It’s quite interesting that you bring this up—when I was doing research, I was looking at your website portfolio, and, as you’ve said, there were installations, furniture, and, recently, sculptural objects—but I noticed that they didn’t have descriptions to them. I was curious about how it was woven all together.
YL:
It’s the story of my life in the US and the ‘individualism’ that I experienced. In the end it comes back to clay. But I continue to struggle every day (laughs).
It’s the story of my life in the US and the ‘individualism’ that I experienced. In the end it comes back to clay. But I continue to struggle every day (laughs).
DK:
Life is a struggle anyways (laughs). Do you have a routine that you follow? What do your mornings look like?
Life is a struggle anyways (laughs). Do you have a routine that you follow? What do your mornings look like?
YL:
Yes, going to the studio is my routine (laughs). My practice involves a lot of movements and lifting, so if I overwork in the morning my back starts to hurt. The most ideal routine would be to do yoga in the morning and then go to the studio but that’s too idealistic! Because adjusting to the culture here was a challenge, in the beginning, I used to go to the gym and then the studio every day. That worked well. But maybe I’m getting lazy nowadays because I can’t do that anymore (laughs). Going to the studio is like a 9-5 job for me.
I just finished my residency at Archie Bray and am in the process of relocation— I moved back to California and have moved to a desert area near Joshua Tree—*turning the camera towards the left*. It’s literally a desert here.
DK:
I noticed the cactus beside you! (note: YehRim was sitting on her porch)
I noticed the cactus beside you! (note: YehRim was sitting on her porch)
YL:
It’s a bit scary for me because it’s a scenery that you don’t come across in Korea [laughs].
DK:
Oh yes.
Oh yes.
YL:
We decided to move the studio here since it would be easier to follow a routine that was far from the city—we will see how it all goes!
DK:
I’m curious to see what kind of work you’ll produce in your new desert-y environment. It’ll be a new chapter!
I’m curious to see what kind of work you’ll produce in your new desert-y environment. It’ll be a new chapter!
YL:
Reflecting upon my past residencies, because they were all essentially in an institutional setting, I felt like I was in school—they provide you the facility, the studio space, and the colleagues. Now, I have to set up my own raw studio, so it indeed is a new chapter for me.
I’d only properly planned for the first five years of living in the States, but as it approaches a decade, I need to start planning from scratch again! As an artist, I’m in that transition phase where I need to craft my artistic career for the future. This interview will probably be the perfect closing remark that summarises my institutional practice!
DK:
You’re right. It’s my honor! I’ll look forward to speaking with you in ten years to catch up about your practice!
You’re right. It’s my honor! I’ll look forward to speaking with you in ten years to catch up about your practice!
DK:
To wrap it up: if you could choose between these two superpowers, what would they be?
To wrap it up: if you could choose between these two superpowers, what would they be?
A: You can perfectly visualise how a certain piece, fired at a certain temperature, and composed of a certain ratio of clay glaze, will look like after the kiln.
B: No matter how experimentally you structure a piece before firing it in the kiln, it will never explode/come out in an unsatisfactory state.
B: No matter how experimentally you structure a piece before firing it in the kiln, it will never explode/come out in an unsatisfactory state.
YL:
I choose B—I do a lot of experimental pieces, and usually only half survive—so part of the reason why the residencies felt like school was because they would also accept my failures and the process itself was a part of it. But now—if I run my own studio, I can’t permit as many failures as I did in the past. I think my first homework is to think about how I can raise the chances of my work turning out well. So, superpower B sounds very nice!
DK:
Moving on from an institutional setting, it sounds like there’s a lot of responsibility that you must now live with.
YL:
Going to the residencies was itself a project, now I must navigate my own projects that can support my practice. I have a lot of respect for artists who have been working long-term.
Forms of ceramics like pots, perhaps due to practicality, are easier to garner fans, but ceramic sculpture on the other hand is not as marketable—so I’m in that middle phase where I have a lot of things to work out!
DK:
What is your favourite memory of being an artist?
What is your favourite memory of being an artist?
YL:
My free time. While I have a routine, as an artist, I am amazed that I attend classes punctually! Now I have to create my own schedule, so while it can sound like a lot of freedom, it can also be very hard.
Dyana Kim