We've been following Joy Chung's art practice for more than a year and are so excited to bring her into the gallery. She studied sculpture at university and fashion at Parsons School of Design and you can see how her embellishments connect to textile design and her glazes to the patterns and texture of color in fabric! Her ceramic direction was greatly influenced by the warm connections dogs and other creatures bring, especially during challenging times. We love how her flower monsters and dogs provide a dopamine shift, just like that of our living furry creatures!
Describe the moment you realized art fed your soul.
During the pandemic, I went through a difficult time with severe back pain. Even when I was physically struggling, working with clay gave me moments when I could forget the pain and simply focus on my hands and the material.
At the same time, when contact with people was limited, the dogs I encountered in my neighborhood gave me an unexpected sense of warmth and comfort. Their simple joy and affection stayed with me.
That was when I realized that making art was more than just creating objects. It was a way of healing, reconnecting with myself, finding my way back to the world.
What themes do you pursue in your art?
At the heart of my work is comfort beyond language and a sense of warm connection.
I’m especially drawn to dogs and the uncomplicated way they communicate affection and positive energy. They don’t need words to make us feel loved or comforted. Sometimes, simply being there is enough.
Through clay, color, and playful forms, I try to capture that feeling. I hope my work feels like a small, warm greeting to the viewer – as if it is saying, “Hello, are you doing well?"
Tell us about what influences the direction for your craft.
I’m influenced more by small, everyday moments than by grand events– the expression of a dog I meet on the street, a wagging tail, the shape of a flower, or the simple gesture of welcoming someone.
I’m especially interested in the honest and uncomplicated way animals express emotion.
Clay itself also influences the direction of my work. Through the repetitive process of tearing, trimming, shaping, and attaching pieces by hand, unexpected forms often emerge. I enjoy allowing those small accidents and discoveries to lead me somewhere I hadn’t originally planned.
How has your work developed over time?
In the beginning, I was more focused on expressing my own emotions and experiences. Over time, I became increasingly interested in what my work might give to someone else.
My forms and colors have gradually become brighter, lighter, and more playful, and images of dogs, cats, and flowers have naturally become part of my visual language.
More recently, I’ve wanted to work to go beyond simply being cheerful or charming. I want there to be a quiet sense of comfort underneath it–a feeling that someone, or something, is there besides you.
In that sense, I think my work has gradually moved from my own story toward something we can share emotionally.
What’s the most indispensable item in your studio?
I would probably say my hands.
Of course I need clay, tools, and a kiln, but most of my work begins with touching, tearing, shaping, and attaching clay directly with my hands.
The marks left by my fingers and the slight differences between each handmade form are important to me. Rather than controlling everything perfectly, I enjoy the conversation that happens between my hands and the clay.
Do you collect anything?
I collect colors.
Whenever I come across a beautiful color combination, I take a photograph and add it to my personal collection. I find these combinations everywhere–while walking down the street, in a cafe, at a museum, or in the most unexpected.
Over time, these collected colors become a visual archive, and they often find their way back into my work, transformed into new combinations and new expressions.
What’s the most inspiring thing you’ve seen, read, watched or listened to recently?
Last year, I saw an exhibition by Amy Sheralds in NewYork, and it left a strong impression on me.
I was especially drawn to her extraordinary sense of color. Her color combinations felt bold and unexpected, yet beautifully balanced. The way she places vivid colors next to softer, quieter tones creates a very distinctive atmosphere and gives each figure a powerful presence.
As someone who also thinks a lot about color in my own work, I found her use of color especially inspiring. It reminded me that color can carry emotion and energy on its own, without needing explanation
I was also moved by the quiet strength of the figures in her paintings. There is a stillness in her work, but at the same time, it feels emotionally alive. That combination of colors, quiet presence, and unspoken emotion stayed with me and made me think again about how I want color and form to communicate feeling in my own work.
What advice would you give to your younger self about your artistic journey?
I would tell myself, “Don’t be in such a hurry to find the answer.”
There are times in an artist’s life when you don’t know exactly where your work is going. Looking back, I realize those uncertain periods were necessary too.
Through making, failing, repeating, and beginning again, your own language slowly develops. So instead of comparing yourself with someone else’s pace, I would tell my younger self to trust what she genuinely loves and keep following what moves her.
Bonus Question:
What role does music play for you while you work?
Music is another kind of companion in my studio.
Working with clay, especially repeating small forms by hand, can become a very quiet and meditative process. When music is playing, it help me stop overthinking and settle into the rhythm of my hands.
Some days, music gives energy to my work. On other days, it simply keeps me company.
In that sense, music is very close to something I often think about in my work: silent companionship –the feeling of having something besides you without needing words.
We are thrilled to share these flower and gum ball embellished ceramic dog, monster, and ceramic creature sculptures by San Francisco and Seoul Korea-based sculptor Joy Chung! In the series, Little Garden of Comfort, blossoming creatures express warm emotions to bring you joy.
View the collection online and in our Mill Valley HQ, Downtown next to Equator Coffee and across from The Depot Plaza.