Artist Statement – “Genuine Fake China” Series
It has been more than two decades since I moved to the United States.
As I’ve grown older, I’ve let go of many of the small worries that used to occupy my mind. Translating one culture into another—and finding ways to unite them within my limited vocabulary—has become a personal hobby. Eventually, I decided to bring this approach into my ceramic art. How can I create work that unites us, connects us, and serves us all? Can craft offer hope and a sense of togetherness? Hopefully—and perhaps subtly—in a personal way.
This series is my quiet resistance to the current political climate of isolation and confrontation. Now more than ever, we need reminders of how similar we are—shared through stories and small conversations, rather than abstract fear and anger. Many conflicts begin with fear of the unknown, which can be softened simply by getting to know one another. If we learn that strangers eat like us, think like us, and live like us, perhaps we can relax a little more.
My Genuine Fake China series presents two sides: one featuring a Chinese or Japanese proverb, and the other offering its English equivalent—or a saying with similar nuance. It’s my attempt to build a bridge across cultural gaps and spark conversations about the profound ideas we share, even across different languages, histories, and traditions. While learning American English, I discovered that proverbs are the distilled essence of a culture’s philosophy. If two languages share a proverb with the same meaning, I feel confident that those cultures think alike—at least on that subject. And if a saying exists across multiple cultures, it’s strong evidence of a universal truth.
It’s easy to notice our differences—they stand out. But recognizing shared ideas takes effort, because they feel so natural to us. My goal is to weave familiar fables, stories, songs, and proverbs into functional ceramic pieces, using their physical presence in daily life as a gentle conversation starter.
From this perspective, the function of the ceramics is not the primary goal. Instead, function becomes a design element—like size or color—used to support the message. For example, I chose the format of a tea set to encourage peaceful conversation over tea and snacks, with multiple cups symbolizing shared moments. A married couple’s yunomi set reflects the widely accepted format of monogamous marriage, prompting reflection on how people actually live within that framework.
In a way, these works mimic functional wares intentionally, inviting people to engage with them casually—through touch, use, and observation.
I hope this series serves as a gentle reminder that no matter where ideas originate, those that resonate with us can become universal—if they serve a meaningful purpose. So please, use my teapot to serve a cup of green tea… even if it’s from Starbucks.