Rosie Ding (b. 2005) is a Chinese-American mixed-media artist whose work explores identity, self-perception, and the psyche through a deeply introspective and often corporeal lens. Bridging contemporary ceramics, sculpture, and performance, she investigates themes of fragmentation, cultural displacement, and rupture—frequently using the body as both subject and medium. Emotionally raw yet conceptually rigorous, her practice reflects Lacanian psychoanalytic thought while remaining grounded in material and emotional inquiry. Ding has exhibited internationally, including When Speed Becomes Form (Beijing, 2020), 21g (New York, 2024), and Sunrise, Moonset (New York, 2025). She currently lives and works in New York.

Can you tell us about your background and how you started your artistic journey?
I grew up between Beijing and California, and now live and work in New York. I’ve always been a creative, imaginative child—drawn to books, films, and the quiet intensity of making things. As an only child with busy parents and a diasporic background, I spent a lot of time alone, building inner worlds. I began making art seriously in my teens, initially as a way to process emotional experiences I didn’t yet have words for. Over time, that instinct evolved into a more deliberate practice—one that merges performance, sculpture, and writing to explore the psyche, memory, and the body.
How do you stay inspired and motivated to create new work?
You just do. That’s what you do as an artist. I don’t wait for inspiration—I create because I can’t imagine not creating. The medium doesn’t matter as much as the impulse behind it. I’m guided by intuition, but also by a deep curiosity—toward what’s unresolved, what’s hidden, what resists language. Even when I’m not physically making, I’m noticing—textures, sensations, fragments that eventually find their way into the work.

How has your artistic style evolved over time?
I’ve jumped between mediums like crazy—painting, sculpture, video, performance—but somehow my visual language has remained oddly consistent. Curators have told me my work is instantly recognizable, even though the color palettes, themes, and materials are constantly shifting. I think what stays constant is a kind of rawness, a willingness to excavate without flinching.
I’m still young, and I know things will continue to evolve. Right now, I’m learning to sit with that uncertainty and see it as part of the process. What’s changed most for me is how I relate to intuition and clarity: I’ve learned to trust my instincts more deeply, while also sharpening how I articulate ideas.
I’ve moved from 2D into sculpture and time-based media, though I don’t think of it as a linear path—each project finds its own form, and I try to follow where it leads.

Were there any particular turning points or breakthroughs in your artistic journey?
Working with materials like clay and silicone was a major turning point. There was something about the physical process—pressing, molding, peeling—that mirrored psychological excavation in a way I hadn’t experienced before. Another breakthrough was encountering Lacanian psychoanalysis. It helped give language to what I’d already been doing intuitively, and reframed how I think about the Self, desire, and Others. I am especially fond of working with clay. Those moments I spend with mud can really quiet my mind.

Are there any new mediums or techniques you’re interested in exploring?
Absolutely—anything and everything. I live by experimenting. I recently saw Midnight Zone by Julian Charrière, and it made me want to explore sound, underwater footage, and more layered image-making. I’m curious about how different sensory registers—light, texture, sound—can interact to shape perception.

What advice would you give to emerging artists trying to establish themselves?
Honestly, I still feel like I’m on the receiving end of that advice. But what’s helped me so far is this: stay fiercely curious. Let your work evolve with you, and don’t rush to make it legible to others. Protect your intuition—it’s often your sharpest tool. And surround yourself with people who challenge and nourish you. Art isn’t just what you make; it’s also how you think, listen, and live.
Text & photo courtesy of Rosie Ding
Website: https://www.rosieding.com
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rosieding_/

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