Xinyi Qin on painting, emotion, and the resilience of plants
Xinyi Qin’s artistic practice is deeply intertwined with nature, using plants as a metaphor for emotional resilience, identity, and personal transformation. Through layered brushstrokes and translucent veils of color, her paintings explore the tension between vulnerability and strength, revealing the complexities of human emotion. Qin’s approach is instinctual—rather than focusing on botanical accuracy, she captures the temperament of plants, allowing their organic forms to mirror her own experiences of adaptability and change. Her work invites viewers into a contemplative space where fragility is not a weakness but a testament to endurance.
In this interview, Xinyi Qin reflects on her evolving relationship with plants as artistic subjects, discussing how their imperfections once symbolized her feelings of inadequacy but have since become emblems of growth and resilience. She delves into the emotional depth behind her use of dark hues like sap green and navy blue, the significance of layering in her compositions, and how ceramics and cyanotype further extend her exploration of vulnerability and transformation. Through her art, Qin not only examines her personal journey but also invites audiences to navigate their own emotional landscapes within a world of constant change.
Your works reflect a profound connection between your emotional state and the temperament of plants. Could you elaborate on how the creative process of painting plants helps you navigate and express personal vulnerabilities and emotional disturbances? How has this focus evolved over time?
The act of painting plants allows me to confront and process my vulnerabilities. The translucent layers I incorporate into my compositions symbolize the barriers I’ve encountered—societal expectations, cultural shifts, and personal insecurities. These layers obscure the plants but never fully hide their vitality, much like how I strive to embrace and reveal my own authenticity despite external pressures. This layering process is meditative, helping me untangle complex emotions while reflecting on the interconnectedness of my inner state and the external world.
Over time, my focus on plants has evolved. Initially, I was drawn to their imperfections—the broken branches, decayed leaves, and subtle blemishes—which resonated with my own feelings of inadequacy and rootlessness. As I progressed, I began to see these imperfections not as flaws but as evidence of resilience and growth. This realization shifted my approach, as I now embrace plants as symbols of adaptability and strength, qualities I seek to cultivate within myself. The diversity of plants I depict reflects my instinctive responses to different emotions, allowing me to explore my feelings without constraints.
You describe your approach to plants as instinctual, focusing on their temperament rather than species. How do you translate this intangible “temperament” into visual elements, such as the fluidity of dark colors and layered brushstrokes? Could you share an example of a painting where this process was particularly significant?
By applying paint lightly and allowing layers to flow into one another, I mimic the organic, unpredictable growth of plants, emphasizing their adaptability and quiet strength. The layered brushstrokes create both texture and complexity, symbolizing the interplay between clarity and ambiguity in life. These layers also reflect the veils of societal and emotional barriers that shape identity and relationships, obscuring certain truths while revealing others.
One painting, “Beneath the Veil”, where this process became particularly significant, features plants beneath a translucent veil. The semi-transparent brushstrokes partially obscure the plants but preserve their vibrancy, creating a tension between concealment and revelation. This veil symbolizes the influence of external pressures, mirroring how individuals navigate the complexities of modern life while striving to maintain authenticity.
Your statement about perceiving yourself as a plant—uncontrolled and unlabeled—suggests a deeply symbiotic relationship between your identity and your art. How has this perception influenced your choice of themes, techniques, and overall artistic philosophy?
This perspective has led me to explore ideas of resilience, adaptability, and rootlessness, reflecting my personal experiences of navigating constant change and uncertainty. I focus on themes of fluidity and identity, emphasizing the tension between stability and impermanence in modern life. As I mentioned, this has influenced my choice of plants as central elements in my work, not as specific species, but as symbols of universal growth and transformation, free from rigid definitions or constraints.
This perception has indeed also guided my techniques and artistic philosophy. I approach painting with instinct, letting the temperament of plants and emotions dictate my choices of color, texture, and composition. For example, the use of translucent layers symbolizes the barriers and influences that shape identity, while fluid, dark tones like sap green and navy blue evoke the shared struggles between fragility and strength.
Having studied at two distinguished art institutions, the School of the Art Institute of Chicago and the University of the Arts London, how have these experiences influenced your artistic approach, particularly your exploration of fragility and the interweaving of human and non-human elements?
My studies at both institutions have deepened my understanding of cultural and historical contexts, sharpening my ability to connect personal experiences with broader societal narratives. My time there encouraged me to focus on the subtle layers of meaning in my work, particularly through color, composition, and texture.
The use of dark colors such as sap green and navy blue plays a crucial role in your paintings. What is the significance of these specific hues in representing fragility and vulnerability? How do these choices interact with your transparent brushstrokes to create the multi-layered perspectives in your work?
For me, these colors embody depth and mystery, capturing the quiet strength that exists within delicate moments. Sap green reflects a connection to nature, growth, and adaptability, while navy blue evokes introspection and the emotional weight of uncertainty. Together, these colors symbolize the tension between resilience and fragility, mirroring my personal experiences of navigating change and finding balance amidst instability. When paired with transparent brushstrokes, these dark hues create a layered, multi-dimensional perspective in my work. The transparency adds a veil-like effect, partially concealing and revealing the forms beneath.
In addition to your painting practice, do you explore ceramics as a medium to extend your themes of fragility, vulnerability, and symbiosis? If so, how does working with ceramics differ from painting in conveying these ideas, and how do the two mediums complement each other in your artistic practice?
Yes, I also explore ceramics as a medium to extend my themes of fragility, vulnerability, and symbiosis. For me, working with ceramics offers a tactile, three-dimensional way to engage with these concepts. I think the process of working with clay—molding, firing, and glazing—embodies the idea of transformation and adaptability. The fragility of unfired clay and the unpredictability of the firing process also somehow mirror the vulnerabilities I explore in my paintings.
Ceramics and painting complement each other in my artistic practice by offering different perspectives on the same themes. While painting allows me to explore fluidity and layering through color and brushstrokes, ceramics provide a tangible, physical form that emphasizes texture and structure.
As your art continues to evolve, what future directions or themes are you excited to explore? Are there any new mediums, concepts, or collaborations you are considering to further expand your dialogue between emotional states and the natural world?
In my future work, I aim to further explore the theme of fragility, vulnerability, and symbiosis, reflecting both on the dynamics of modern society and my personal experiences of identity and existence. Moving forward, I aim to more fully integrate these elements, allowing the transparent layers to interact naturally with the main subjects to better express the tension and balance within fluidity.
Recently, I have also been expanding my use of cyanotype. The medium’s reliance on sunlight and water introduces an element of unpredictability, aligning closely with the fluid and changing nature of modern life. By capturing the delicate details of plants, cyanotype transforms fleeting moments into lasting impressions, allowing me to convey the subtle relationships between time and space more directly. Ultimately, I hope my work not only engages viewers on a visual level but also encourages them to reflect on their own experiences in navigating a world defined by constant change.
All images courtesy of Xinyi Qin, shared with permission
