Interview | New York-based Artist Paul Mok

Treating reality as the first medium, New York-based architect, designer, and visual artist Paul Mok (b. Hong Kong) situates his practice in the “in-betweens” – in between architecture and art, the technical and the abstract, the mundane and the wondrous. 

Mok holds a Bachelor’s degree in Architecture from the University of Hong Kong and a Master of Architecture from the Harvard Graduate School of Design. Many of Mok’s designs double as standalone artworks and have been exhibited in various galleries and venues such as Yi Gallery, RIVAA Gallery, New Collectors, Art on Paper at Pier 36, and Gallery GAIA, among others. Recognizing the multidisciplinary nature of his practice, Mok was named by Cultured Magazine as one of the Young Architects of the Year in 2022.

The Void We Left Behind, 2024, Ink on paper, 70 x 55 in, Photo by Paul Mok

Can you tell us about your background and how you started your artistic journey?

I am an architect. New York-based. Hong Kong-born. I came to the US in 2014, when I was 24. 

My training has been strictly architectural. But as I was pursuing an M.Arch at the Harvard Graduate School of Design, I felt stuck. I was frustrated. I felt trapped by the design methods that I was being taught. That was when I met Professor Ewa Harabasz, an artist teaching in the design school. I ended up taking four classes with her, including an independent study. That gave me an alternative way to approach the creative process just when I needed it the most. If I hadn’t met Ewa, my practice today would likely be a lot more straightforward, with a more singular focus on architecture and interior design. Now, as a practicing architect, my personal practice encompasses architecture, design, and visual art. 

You Are Living Someone Elses Dream, 2023, Concrete, rebar, grates, soil, live plants, clay, concrete brick, prints, 60 x 84 x 39 in, Photo by Paul Mok

How do you stay inspired and motivated to create new work?

Sometimes I think that all we do in life is try to manifest our own existence. Some people can speak eloquently and persuasively, but I’ve never been the most articulate in speech. I prefer making things. Or drawing. I used to write a lot too. 

If I go too long without making something, I get very anxious. I have these large-scale ink drawings in the studio to be a fallback project. It ensures that I will always have something to work on. The making process of these drawings is very time-consuming. Once I start one, I can keep working on it for months. I just have to be careful not to get too comfortable and fall into routine (I’m neurologically predisposed to repetition). Otherwise, I will only be working on drawings instead of new projects, and my practice will never grow. 

Flip, 2021, Concrete, chrome pipes, charcoal, plywood, clay, switch, junction box, conduit, light fixture, 40 x 30 x 48 in, Photo by Yi Gallery

How does your background in architecture influence your art, and vice versa?

Compared to a traditional artist, I am probably more inspired by the site and the circumstances around an exhibition. I tend to use the idiosyncrasies of the circumstances as prompts for creative leaps. 

When it comes to design, I find the traditional problem-solving and form-finding approach very boring and unproductive. Make a creature! Create a scene! Propose something ridiculous! Put things where they don’t belong and see what happens! Once, my partner asked me to design a display fixture for her brand. Most architects would determine the surface area required, then pick a material based on budget (can we afford metal? No? Formica then? Or painted ply? What colors do you like?). They would end up with some variation of a four-legged table. Instead, I made something that looked like a shattered concrete slab floating in mid-air with live plants popping out. A year later, it was shown as a standalone art piece titled <You Are Living Someone Else’s Dream> at a two-person show at Yi Gallery. Architects think their job is to answer the design brief. To me, it’s obvious that answering the brief is only the bare, bare minimum. There is a whole world outside of the brief that warrants exploration. 

A Fountain Head, 2020, Concrete, chrome pipes, soil, living plants, clay, hose bibb, 60 x 84 x 39 in, Photo by Paul Mok

What is your creative process like? Do you follow a routine or work spontaneously?

I thrive on routines. I go to the studio every day after work, and I am always there on weekends. My full-time job takes up 45-55 hours a week. The routine helps ensure that I will get at least 20 hours a week for my personal practice. 

I tend to get inspired by random things in the street, too. I take lots of photos with my phone and keep a sketchbook with me to collect ideas. 

What challenges have you faced as an artist, and how have you overcome them?

I have faced numerous challenges as an overtly reserved, introverted person in general, but as an artist specifically: Since I did not study art, I did not have any connections in the art world when I came to New York in 2018. Also, my works were both art and design, meaning that I lacked a strictly “art” portfolio (or a strictly “design” portfolio, for that matter). I would cold-call galleries anyway. I am very grateful for those who have taken a chance on me and my work, including Ursula Clark, who gave me my first solo show at Gallery GAIA in 2020, and especially Cecilia Zhang Jalboukh, the founder of Yi Gallery. Cecilia paired me with a more established artist, Mar Ramón Soriano, for a two-person show in 2023. Cecilia also took lots of care in understanding the career and temperament of each of her artists, and connected me with the broader art world in New York.

I Owe It To My Family To Get Home In One Piece, 2025, Drain, air dry clay, ceramic pots, live plants, soil, asphalt, cast-iron drain, PVC pipes, 13 x 80 x 14 in, Photo by Paul Mok

What advice would you give to emerging artists trying to establish themselves?

They say, “know thyself”. Be attentive to your creative cycle. Learn how it works. Be mindful of its ups and downs. Pay attention to the patterns. Take notes on what and how long it usually takes for you to come out of turmoil. It could save you some torments down the road.

Your practice needs to grow – ideally in the real world. That should be a priority. Most things are learnable. Socialize. Network. Talk to people. Reach out. Write as clearly as you can. Say yes to opportunities. But at the end of the day, your work should speak for itself.  

If you tend to feel burdened by all the mundane tasks around your creative practice (e.g., writing artist statements, submitting to open calls, outreach, coordination, sourcing materials…), just pretend to be your own assistant. Treat it as a job. You don’t have to confuse that with your identity as an artist. Just pretend you are an assistant working for yourself.

Text & photo courtesy of Paul Mok

Website: https://www.paul-mok.com
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/paulmokk/


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