Artist Highlight - Jianqiang Xia

1. In Dream Residues, forms emerge from recycled studio clay rather than pre-designed structures. How does working with leftover material influence the direction of the work?

Working with leftover clay shifts the process from control to responsiveness. The material already carries traces of previous actions—cuts, pressure, and reuse—so it arrives with its own history. Instead of imposing a predetermined form, I respond to what the clay suggests in the moment. Shapes emerge gradually through compression, cutting, and reassembly. This approach creates a dialogue between intention and chance. The recycled clay not only shapes the physical form but also

reinforces the work’s themes of transformation, memory, and renewal within materials once considered waste.

2. The pieces appear suspended between vessel, body, and landscape. How do you approach this ambiguity of form during the making process?

I don’t begin with a fixed image of what the form should become. During the making process, I focus on responding to the material and its movement rather than defining it as a specific object. As the clay is compressed, carved, and hollowed, certain suggestions naturally appear—sometimes resembling vessels, bodily forms, or geological fragments. I try not to resolve these references too clearly. Keeping the form slightly open allows the work to exist between categories, inviting viewers to

project their own interpretations and experiences onto the piece.

3. You describe the works as “residues of the subconscious.” How does intuition guide your gestures when shaping the clay?

Intuition plays a central role in the making process. Rather than following a predetermined plan, I respond to the material through touch, pressure, and repetition. Small gestures—compressing, cutting, hollowing—accumulate gradually, allowing the form to evolve almost subconsciously. In this state, the body remembers movements before the mind defines them. The clay records these gestures as physical traces, so the final form becomes less a designed object and more a residue of accumulated actions, emotions, and fleeting states of mind.

4. Your architectural background often engages with space and void. How do these spatial ideas translate into the hollow structures of the ceramic forms?

My architectural background has shaped the way I think about space as something active rather than empty. In these ceramic forms, the hollow interior is as important as the outer surface. I approach the making process almost like shaping a small architecture, where volume and void develop together. The cavities are not simply functional but create a sense of interior space, tension, and balance. Through exploring how structure can hold emptiness, allowing the work to exist as a dialogue between mass, space, and absence.

5. Rather than correcting collapse or deformation, you allow these moments to remain visible. What do these traces reveal about the life of the material?

I see moments of collapse or deformation as part of the material’s natural behavior rather than mistakes to be corrected. Clay is responsive and unstable, and these shifts reveal its internal tensions and limits. By allowing these traces to remain visible, the work records the process of making—gravity, pressure, drying, and movement. They remind us that the form is not entirely controlled but shaped through interaction with the material. In this way, the marks of deformation become evidence of the clay’s own life within the making process.

6. The works originate from clay that has already been handled and reshaped many times. How does this accumulated history affect your relationship with the material?

Working with clay that has already been handled many times means the material carries its own history. As an architect, I’m trained to respond to context rather than impose a completely new order. I approach the clay in a similar way. Instead of forcing it into a predetermined form, I pay attention to its existing traces and allow these conditions to guide the process. The accumulated history becomes a kind of material context. By responding to it, the work develops through negotiation rather than control, allowing past actions to influence the direction and rhythm of the work.

7. Within The Invisible Made Visible, your work reveals hidden processes of transformation and reuse. What aspects of time and material memory do you hope viewers recognise when encountering these pieces?

I hope viewers sense that the works hold layers of time within their material. The clay has been reused, reshaped, and compressed many times, so each piece carries traces of earlier moments in the studio. Rather than hiding these processes, I allow them to remain visible in the textures, edges, and layered surfaces. In this way, the work becomes a record of transformation. I hope viewers recognise that materials are not static but accumulate memory through use, and that even what appears discarded can hold the potential for renewal and new meaning.