Meet Echo Xu | Artist

We had the good fortune of connecting with Echo Xu and we’ve shared our conversation below.

Hi Echo, why did you decide to pursue a creative path?
Art has always been close to me. My family first dreamed of me becoming an artist, so I began training at a very young age. But in school, I became absorbed in competing academically. In that environment, art was not valued because it could not be scored or ranked, so I gradually lost touch with it.

Later, as I moved internationally and lived a transient life, I constantly battled with myself over whether to pursue art. The pressure to be practical and the need for belonging weighed heavily on me. Yet, in the quietest moments, I found myself reaching for a pen, sketching, creating almost instinctively. It became clear that art was not just an option but a necessity. It holds my histories, my shifting identities, and it has been my therapy. I understood then that art would always be part of who I am.

Today, I see myself as a vessel for art. Wherever I go, whatever I experience—the excitement, the confusion, even late-night tears—all of it becomes fuel for creation. Art gives me courage to face the world differently, to turn personal reflection into something that can also connect with others. It is not just what I do, it is the way I live.

Can you open up a bit about your work and career? We’re big fans and we’d love for our community to learn more about your work.
My practice explores how authority is both constructed and undone, working through the tension between control and play. I am drawn to the ways objects dictate behavior and how access is shaped by performance and consumption. Growing up in structured environments where every gesture seemed ruled, I created private worlds where I could impose order, only to dismantle it again. That rhythm of construction and collapse continues to drive my work.

At the same time, a transient life has left me with a deep sense of impermanence, which also shapes how I work. I often use what is immediately around me—strips of fabric, moving boxes, flyers, even spam messages—and I also work with industrial, mass-produced materials that carry connotations of logic and authority. Sometimes I mirror their order, sometimes I distort it, and sometimes I subvert it. What distinguishes my practice is the way I treat each material as a language of accessibility. If I have access to a print studio, I make prints; if not, I adapt and use another medium. That adaptability reflects both survival and discovery, but also a kind of playfulness in scarcity. Ultimately, I position myself as both the maker and the one who interrupts. I am less interested in tearing systems down than in shifting their weight to open space for new possibilities.

The biggest lesson I have learned is that art thrives on vulnerability. Through storytelling, performance, or material experimentation, I find deeper connection with others. What I want the world to know about my work is that it is built on care, resilience, and playfulness. My brand, if I were to name it, is about turning fragility into strength and isolation into community.

If you had a friend visiting you, what are some of the local spots you’d want to take them around to?
If my best friend were visiting, I’d want them to experience a mix of my favorite hidden gems and the beauty of California’s landscapes. We’d start with Bruno’s Italian Restaurant in Santa Monica. it’s hands down the best Italian food I’ve ever had. The portions are generous, the prices are fair, and it’s run by a wonderful family. Their outdoor dining garden is the perfect place to linger over a meal.

No trip would be complete without a drive along the highway at sunset, watching the colors shift over the ocean. I’d also plan a two-day getaway to Palm Springs and Sequoia National Park. Palm Springs has that surreal desert energy, while Sequoia offers the awe of standing beneath trees that feel older than time.

The Shoutout series is all about recognizing that our success and where we are in life is at least somewhat thanks to the efforts, support, mentorship, love and encouragement of others. So is there someone that you want to dedicate your shoutout to?
I would love to give a big shoutout to the Vermont Studio Center, its residency program, the incredible staff, and the artists I met there. Art making can often feel isolating, but a residency brings people from all kinds of backgrounds together, and it truly became like a family.

During my time there, we lived through the biggest power outage Vermont had seen in 30 years. We saw fireflies light up the night sky for the first time in my life, swam in the clearest lakes and coolest waterfalls, and gathered around the fire pit sharing our most embarrassing stories. I collaborated with my studio neighbors, with a local textile shop, and even with nature itself—working with Vermont’s soil, moss, and stones.

I had just graduated from college and was carrying a lot of uncertainty about life. Everyone there was so generous with their listening, comfort, and support. I learned the power of sharing—sharing space, stories, food, and art. That community strengthened my belief in the importance of building and nourishing artist networks. The friends I made at Vermont have stayed in my life and have become important mentors in my career.

So my shoutout goes to Vermont Studio Center, for turning that summer into what felt like a fever dream come true.

Website: https://fengxiaoxu.cargo.site

Instagram: @echooo_xu

Image Credits
courtesy of the artist

the groups photo is courtesy of Vermont Studio Center, Harlan Mark