An Afternoon Oasis: Recentering My Womb in Candlelight. 2025. Oil on canvas. 36’’ x 48’’.
An Afternoon Oasis: Recentering My Womb in Candlelight is informed by a turbulent summer day. It was afternoon, yet I hadn’t gotten out of my bed. My body was straining to be free from the cocoon of dissociation I had trapped myself in. So, I gathered some toiletries and food, and went to take a bath.
This painting depicts my inner world during this bath. The philosophy of this piece is about finding the pockets of joy amidst chaos and reveling in those sacred, womb-like environments. I depicted myself looking at the bathwater running down the back of my hand, a meditative practice I discovered in the moment. However, while a celebratory experience—expressed through the rainbow, confetti-esque brushstrokes—this bath also evoked a sense of dread. Deeper within me, I was fearful of the moments following this interlude of peace, afraid that I would go back to my depressive cocoon. I expressed this dread through the melancholic purples, viridians, and an angular composition that frames the scene in a deliciously tense way.
“ …---…”. 2023. Oil on masonite board. 48’’ x 12’’.
National Gold Medal: 2024 Scholastic Art & Writing Awards
1st place, $500: 2023 iCreate Competition
SOS is my interpretation of the feelings that arise in the tense silence following a sudden tragedy; the moody purples, pale greens, and rich oranges were purposefully composed to curate an uneasy atmosphere. Michelangelo’s David, embodying hope and bravery, has fallen down and shattered. His stare is an expression that forms when tragedy hasn't fully sunk in, but the emotions have reached the eyes. Though I am a teenager, I have had many moments of this quiet, paralyzing panic. With this painting, I also wanted to expand the senses that the viewer experiences: I want them to hear the piercing cries of the stone making contact with the ground, feel the grimy crumbs and dust left in the wake of the turmoil. The title, SOS in morse code, further represents this deep, quiet panic: when you are so lost, there are no words left in you to muster, hence the lack of words in the title.
Hushed Glitter. 2024. Graphite on paper. 24’’ x 18’’.
Regional Gold Key: 2025 Scholastic Art & Writing Awards
Hushed Glitter captures the intimate, glittering dance between a brook and its surroundings. Upon entering the space, I was drawn to the quiet, humming conversation between the land and the water. I was struck by the way the sunlight shifted through the leaves, reflecting light like a disco ball; the quiet chittering of the crickets, the percussion of the leaves; and trickling water greatly contributed to the kinetic energy I sensed in the space. Through various combinations of organic and linear mark-making, I aimed to illustrate the glittering leaves, the shimmering surface of the water, the delicate root systems, the pillowy rocks in the foreground, and the amorphous background. I want the viewer to experience what I felt at the brook: awe, quiet harmony, and a private yet vibrant intimacy with the natural world.
Confetti. 2025. Watercolor, watercolor color pencil, watercolor pastel on paper. 11’’ x 12’’.
Lucid. 2025. Watercolor, watercolor color pencil on paper. 11’’ x 11’’.
From a series of six botanical exploratory studies, focusing on drawing from observation and expressive interpretation.
空 (An Empty Sky). 2025. Gouache print from woodblock on mulberry paper. 12’’ x 16’’.
空 (An Empty Sky) is the first woodblock print I have ever made. Daniel Heyman, a visiting artist at my school, came to class to teach us the Japanese woodblock printmaking process.
When composing this print, I wanted to embrace breathe. "空" (my Chinese name is 陈空) literally translates to "empty," but in Chinese poetry, 空 is often used to describe openness, longing, impermanence, and liberation. The 空 philosophy informed the stripped-back composition; the emotional nuances of the figure and the singular, falling lotus petal; and the color palette. For our senior summer reading, we were assigned Rebecca Solnit's "Field Guide to Getting Lost." In her guide, Solnit discusses embracing the "blue of distance" and calls for us to lean into our sense of longing. With this in mind, blue was the perfect hue to express "空."
Throne. 2024. Charcoal on paper. 22'' by 30''.
Drawn from life using a still life arrangement I constructed myself inspired by Vanitas.
The Brook’s Stupor. 2024. Charcoal, acrylic, collage on paper. 30'' by 22''.
In creating "Stupor," I experimented with a new approach: deconstructing a charcoal sketch of a brook by cutting it up and then reconstructing it to form a completely new piece. After developing a new composition, I continued to draw and paint directly on the reconstructed composition, creating an abstracted yet lucid interpretation of the brook I had witnessed firsthand. This landscape aims capture an emotive nuance and atmosphere rather than strict realism. "Stupor" is part of a process-oriented series of drawings, including "Hushed Glitter." It stands as the final piece in this intentional exploration of imagination and transformation.
Still Life Self-Portrait. 2022. Acrylic on canvas. 24'' by 20''.
Honorable Mention, $100: iCreate 2024 Competition at the Bruce Museum
My name is Albert Chen; my name is also 陈空 (chén kōng). For many years, while I loved my Chinese heritage—the food, the community, and my family—I felt ashamed of it when I saw it through the eyes of others. This still life celebrates my culture and who I am. The painting richly depicts a combination of Chinese and American objects: black Chinese vinegar, an American cookie jar, persimmons, a Chinese teapot, olive oil, Chinese pears, and other culturally contrasting objects. Each object brings its own balance and character to the piece, reflecting how my Chinese-American identity can exist in a dual harmony.
Battleground. 2024. Charcoal on paper. 24'' by 20''.
Drawn from life at Interlochen Arts Academy Summer Program.
The Heart of My Home: Washing Dishes in the Kitchen Ballroom. 2024. Oil on canvas. 48’’ x 36’’.
Home has always confused me. Although home has been a source of warmth and love, it has also been the setting of familial tension, self-doubt, and internalized shame. The Heart of My Home: Washing Dishes in the Kitchen Ballroom is my way of reclaiming that confusion—not by escaping it, but by dancing through it. With this piece, I am redefining dishwashing and the emotional cleansing process as not an experience to escape, but to celebrate. The kitchen has become my metaphorical ballroom—a historical space where queer folk, specifically black and Latino folk, celebrated their unique edges through liberated dance. The vibrant colors of the painting reflect my newfound freedom, a dance of self-assuredness; my expressionist, unabashed brush strokes illustrate a liberating choreography. Instead of being confined by my home, my queer and Chinese American identity, the space has become my ballroom. The kitchen is now a dancefloor where I whirl, heal, and nourish myself.