SO MINT! XI CHEN

Current Obsession: What story or idea does your graduation work explore, and why was it important for you to tell it now?

Xi Chen: In the two years I’ve been studying in Germany, my daily walk to school has become a quiet time to observe and think. I began noticing which plants grow both here and in my hometown, and which are unfamiliar. Every recognizable leaf feels like a small message, reminding me of my connection to nature. I never appreciated summer until I lived somewhere it was missing. I never truly missed home until I was 8,000 kilometers away. Even a leaf, when carved in stone, becomes a memory of a season that passes so quickly.

There’s a Chinese saying: ‘You cannot put the wind into a bag.’ To me, this means some things can’t be held onto or controlled. It’s true for the materials I use in my work, and for memories too. When a leaf lands on your shoulder, it’s like wearing a piece of jewelry. If you turn it over, there’s another story sketched and hidden on the back. It’s my way of giving something personal to the wearer — a story only known to them.

I love sketching. It’s a habit that has stayed with me for many years. Most sketches were done just after I shaped the leaves, intuitively. They often relate to nature (ants, snails, rivers) and create surreal, illogical scenes that reflect human life. In traditional Chinese culture, plants like bamboo, pine, cypress, and orchids are symbols of noble character. Growing up in that environment helped me see the beauty in something as ordinary as a leaf. These cultural memories surface quietly in my work, not directly, but through my attention to fragile forms.

CO: Who or what has shaped your practice in unexpected ways?

XC: I would say nothing can be more inspiring than just doing it. I fill up with so many unexpected ideas during the making process because the plans that we set are fixed, but the making process is dynamic, you can’t take full control. So working with this unknown flowing status is indeed challenging, but also brings so many surprises to me.

Working with stone has taught me this over and over again. It can be frustrating — its fragility means it often breaks during the process. I can’t always make a piece exactly as I imagined, accidents occur. For example, in Mini Fly, the leaf stem used to be much longer. But after I finished all the details, it broke completely during the final drilling step. I almost gave up on it. But I decided to keep it, and it became the smallest piece in the series. This series is really a collection of paths branching out from one central point. I like that. Compared to following a fixed plan, I find joy in the uncertainty, in the surprises and challenges along the way.

CO: Does your work reflect or respond to a cultural context or issue that’s personal to you?

XC: The forms I use are very common, like leaves, which people see every day. But I give them a deeper meaning. For me, a leaf stands for things that don’t last long but mean a lot to me. Before I left home, I never imagined I would miss it so much. It’s like rosy retrospection, a lasting feeling of missing something I can’t control. I shape stones into abstract leaf forms and add my own stories on the back. By doing this, I bring personal emotions into a form everyone knows. It helps me hold onto memories and moments that would otherwise disappear.

There’s a phrase in Chinese: ‘触景生情 (chù jǐng shēng qíng)’. It means that a place or scene can trigger certain emotions or memories. I grew up with my grandmother. She kept a small balcony full of plants. When I was little, she used to tell me about their names, their differences, but I wasn’t interested. I even found her a bit boring, i couldn’t understand her passion for plants. But as I grew older, I started to feel closer to them. I now treasure every bit of green in life and love observing plants up close. I think she planted a seed in me back then. To me, leaves symbolize the quiet presence that surrounds us, things easily overlooked, like missing summer in the winter, or longing for home only when you’re far away.