Hello there,
I'm Joyce 👋
Hi, I'm Joyce 👋
I'm the face behind Jiarong Studios. Jiarong is the Chinese part of my full name -- Jiarong Joyce. I go by Joyce in my day to day, so I found it only fitting to tribute the other half of my identity through my art career. I'm based out of Seattle in the luscious Pacific-Northwest, currently a resident at The Clay Corner.
My first exposure to clay was in high school. My mother wanted me out of the house, so she dropped me off at a local studio for 3 hours every Saturday morning. It was purely fun - a new hobby with countless variables to play with. Clay turned from hobby to passion when I took a trip to Icheon, Korea where I learned Korean wheel throwing techniques. I view the making process itself as art - there should be intentionality and reason behind every movement on the wheel. I aim to make meaningful functional pieces that strive for technical mastery of the craft.
My work tells my story - a composition of the narratives from generations before me and my experiences as a third culture kid in the US. Third culture individuals are people raised in a cultural environment different from their parents or the country of their nationality; the result of global nomadism. My grandmother left the impoverished fields of rural China for city life as an uneducated woman in an arranged marriage. My parents immigrated twice – first to Japan and then to the US. I grew up in an ethnic enclave in Texas where a majority of my peers were children of East and South Asian immigrants. My work converses with a blend of mine and the narratives that come before me.
I focus on functional forms that hold personal sentimental value. Sake sets remind me of evenings after dinner when my dad relaxed after a long day at work, cracking open sunflower seeds between his teeth and sipping Chinese liquor from sake cups he brought from Japan. Clay pots remind me of the same vessels my mom braises sukiyaki (thinly sliced beef with napa cabbage) and hongshaorou (sweet soy pork belly) to make us a hearty dinner. Large jars with intricate designs lined the walls of 99 Ranch Market, our local Asian grocery store, in stacks. I decorate my forms with imagery and symbols inspired by nostalgic meaning. Geometric line carvings are reminiscent of the doodles in my math notebook when my father desperately tried teaching me trigonometry. Bamboo silhouettes mimic the bamboo carvings on my grandfather’s handmade mahjong set we played with growing up. From form to surface design, nostalgic significance drives the technique and detail of my pieces.
As the model minority, Asian American and Asian immigrant populations are also the quiet minority. Our stories are often overlooked and oversimplified because of our reputation of success in the US. Behind the veil of achievement is a population that has silenced their suffering because they were taught that endurance is admirable and that sharing feelings is shameful. Second-generation children bear complex experiences. We internally battle the push to assimilate into the society we grew up in and the pull to preserve cultural identities that feel foreign. I tell my stories through clay to preserve and share the world through my lens because third-culture narratives are complex and multifaceted – often not told or heard enough.