Today we’d like to introduce you to Ellen Jong.
Ellen, we appreciate you taking the time to share your story with us today. Where does your story begin?
I was young photographer from Queens living in Bushwick Brooklyn in 1998. I loved street photography and portraiture and whenever I could print in the darkroom, I would pay by the hour. I frequented book stores and museums, sometimes galleries in Chelsea and SOHO, which became the places where I studied the most. In 2006 Miss Rosen Edition/powerHouse Books published my first photography monograph titled Pees On Earth, a serial performance over eight years of self-portraits photographed while peeing in public, in private. It was essential to my coming-of-age and seminal to my artist voice. I continue to investigate and explore the same themes in writing, installation, sculpture and in life.
Photography gave me new eyes; a super power. My first photography show was also Vice Magazine’s first photo show in NY in 2000. After a short career as a professional photographer between downtown NY and South Beach Miami (my biggest commercial ad job was in 2005, before digital!) I pivoted to a purely art practice. I made another art book that was the subject of my solo show called The Invisible Line in the Lower East Side in 2011. I had already started to co-curate and participate in group art shows independently and for clients. The most fun was an 18-room installation by 18 artists that we flew into Miami for the opening of a South Beach hotel during Art Basel in 2002. I coordinated many of the project’s elements so that the installations could come to life for the vernissage. It was installed for one year. In 2015 my personal life brought me to Upstate NY. Being in nature was a beautiful shock to my system. And, where my new work began. I moved to LA in late 2019.
I’m sure it wasn’t obstacle-free, but would you say the journey has been fairly smooth so far?
As a kid, I didn’t always fit in but it gave me a sense of self to not conform. Aware of racism from an early age, I grappled with perfection, etiquette, stereotypes and shame, and may even carry a quiet rage still that helps me visualize and achieve my goals in a different way. I’ve wanted to throw in the towel many times. It’s not easy to feel alone on a path I deeply believe in. But when someone sees me it is everything. I relish in making art on my own terms that is honest, productive and empowered. I love sharing it with the world.
Can you tell our readers more about what you do and what you think sets you apart from others?
About a decade ago, I returned to my earliest painting lessons in my childhood home where I learned traditional Chinese ink painting. It was and is still prominent in my father’s life. Looking back was a way to move forward for me. I learned to make the traditional ink and then began to make my own ink in my studio for sculpture. I was drawn to ink because it offers an intimate portal into my self-discovery, and my American and Chinese heritage. Ink is also significant because it has shaped history, culture and society of many variations over centuries. And the pigment – lampblack – is powerful and full of symbolism and interpretation. With my ink sculptures I’m still mark-making; not with bodily fluids but with ink. I developed a method where I can paint layers of ink to dry and maintain structure. Over time, the ink can still be rehydrated if impacted by extreme heat or moisture. This idea of making a mark, or ink sculpture, that is intended to be impermanent is something I discuss in my book Pees On Earth, and what I called “the existential pee puddle.” My work also confronts ideas that concern the Asian-American female image and invites discourse around topics that explore contemporary feminism, yellowness, belonging and desire. Reclaiming ink as my own is a process in developing a language that represents me. I am writing myself into history. I articulate my most profound questions into ink bodies where I might not be able to in my natural body. The ink works pictured here from my series of Velvet Tondos exhibit a unique expression of happiness in our fraught and changing times. They are included in the book Sm;)e again, published by Blurring Books 2025.
Let’s talk about our city – what do you love? What do you not love?
I love how big LA is but I don’t love having to drive as far as LA demands sometimes. I love that I’m only 15 minutes from a hike with a great view. I love the proximity to the desert. I love the light here. I love that I can go for a walk and not bump into anyone I know – I’m still not a local. But mostly I love that it got me out of NY which I thought was the center of the universe. I miss talking to strangers. New Yorkers talk to (yell, complain, help) strangers. If you see me talking to a stranger, or you, out of nowhere, I’m not crazy. I’m just a NY’er in LA, and loving it!
- Website: https://Ellenjong.com
- Instagram: @_____ellenjong
Image Credits
Velvet Tondo #1, 2, 5, 6 – dehydrated ink and pigment relief fused onto stretched velvet on wood panel
46 x 46 x 2 inches
Photo credit: Simon Cardoza
Another Mother – cast dehydrated ink reinforced by fiberglass, pump, ink, wood and acrylic bowl
91 H x 66 W x 21 D inches
Photo credit: Noah Dye
Self-portrait in my own PEENESS ENVY GIRL cap taken in my DTLA studio
