Meet John Chia Hsuan Kuo | Visual Artist

We had the good fortune of connecting with John Chia Hsuan Kuo and we’ve shared our conversation below.

Hi John Chia Hsuan, where are your from? We’d love to hear about how your background has played a role in who you are today?
I’m originally from Tainan, a city in the southern part of Taiwan that was founded by the Dutch in 1624—around the same time they established what would become New York. Though these two cities share a parallel colonial history, they’ve evolved in vastly different ways over the past 400 years. When I moved to New York, the cultural contrast was striking. I was overwhelmed by the pace of life, the diversity, and especially by something I had never seen on such a scale before: homelessness.

Coming from a place where the idea of home and community is deeply rooted, witnessing so many people living without shelter left a lasting impression on me. It challenged my understanding of belonging and survival. That shock eventually became a quiet but persistent question in my work—what does it mean to have, or not have, a place to call home?

These reflections continue to shape who I am and how I create. As a sculptor, I explore themes of displacement, memory, and the human need for connection, often drawing from the emotional space between familiarity and estrangement.

Alright, so let’s move onto what keeps you busy professionally?
My art centers on the human experience—specifically themes of home, displacement, and the quiet strength of ordinary people. I work primarily in ceramics and sculpture, often creating surreal, collage-like figures inspired by my everyday observations, especially in urban spaces. Many of my pieces are drawn from real people I see on the street or subway—those who are often overlooked—such as the homeless. Their presence moves me, and I feel compelled to give form to their stories and emotions through sculpture.

What sets my work apart is the emotional layering in the figures I create. I often incorporate architectural elements like windows or doorways into my sculptures, symbolizing both physical and psychological passageways—portals to memory, longing, and hope. My goal is to bridge the personal with the universal, allowing viewers to reflect on their own notions of belonging and identity.

The road to where I am today has definitely not been easy. As an international artist from Taiwan, moving to New York came with immense culture shock, financial pressure, and isolation. I had to build everything from scratch—language, network, and even furniture for my apartment. I took on all kinds of jobs to support myself while continuing to develop my practice. At times, it felt like I was drifting. But I’ve come to see this sense of “drifting” not as a weakness, but as a space of transformation—a theme that deeply informs my work.

Some of the most valuable lessons I’ve learned along the way are patience, resilience, and the importance of staying connected to why I create art in the first place. Recognition and success may come slowly, but what matters most is staying honest with the work and nurturing the voice that brought you here.

What I want the world to know about my story is that my art comes from a place of empathy. I want to give form to those who are in-between—between homes, identities, and moments of clarity. Whether it’s through a cracked ceramic surface or a fragile gaze, I hope my work offers a space for reflection and connection, even across vast cultural or emotional distances.

Let’s say your best friend was visiting the area and you wanted to show them the best time ever. Where would you take them? Give us a little itinerary – say it was a week long trip, where would you eat, drink, visit, hang out, etc.
If my best friend were visiting, I’d start by taking them to Governors Island to see my sculpture, Gaia Formosa, which will be on view starting mid June 2025. After a quick stop to check out the piece, we’d get bikes and explore the island’s historic architecture and scenic paths—it’s one of the most hidden peaceful places in the city. On another day, we’d head to Central Park to catch some street jazz jams and enjoy the atmosphere, then swing by the Art Students League of New York, where I teach, for a quick behind-the-scenes tour of the studios. We’d spend an afternoon just hanging out in Chinatown, eating good Chinese food and soaking in the rhythm of the neighborhood. And without question, we’d make a visit to the Noguchi Museum—a space I deeply admire for its quiet beauty and its thoughtful integration of art, architecture, and nature.

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 want to dedicate my Shoutout to Chen Huei-tung, a true mentor and guiding figure in my early life. He’s not only a renowned painter and a major force in promoting art education in Taiwan, but also the founder of the Tainan Museum of Art. My connection to him began through my mother, who worked as his secretary—but over time, it grew into something deeply personal and formative.

When I was just beginning art school, Mr. Chen saw something in me and gave me the encouragement I didn’t even know I needed. He inspired me, challenged me, and believed in my potential long before I had any real confidence in myself. He later took me under his wing and offered me my very first regular job as his assistant. That opportunity—and his trust—meant everything to me at the time. It gave me not just experience, but a sense of belonging in the world of art.

His influence continues to echo in my work and my values as an artist. I’m incredibly grateful for the early support he gave me, and I carry his mentorship with me to this day.

Website: https://www.chiahkuo.com/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/kuojohn_347/