This article was written upon some reflection after a talk I gave at Un Studio, a Singaporean ceramics/woodworking studio, for their Unhurried Couch session in August 2025.
This article is an attempt to capture my thoughts on the subject at this moment, which I feel will keep evolving as definitions, public opinion and art/craft creations are born. This might not be relevant in 5 years, or even next year, but I find it an important practice to keep a record, so I know how things have changed.
The above Venn diagram is an ongoing sketch I am still contemplating, and the words are not exclusive to that particular ‘boundary’ it sits in. It suggests more of a focus. (I considered many words for the empty spaces, but none seemed quite right.) While pondering it, I observed ‘Craft’ and ‘Design’ can often be considered as the same thing. More than a statement, this diagram is a question.
Rooted in Craft
While I now term my practice as a ‘craft-focused art practice’— which might change in time to come— it took me a long time to understand what boundaries guide these ‘different’ disciplines. Having crocheted and knitted since 1997, I have seen and felt their roles shift (especially post-covid) through the years. However, it was only in 2021, while working on my first series Time is a Commodity, that I started questioning what made an ‘art object’ different from a ‘craft object’.
Before entering my first-ever artist residency, I had always leaned in the direction of craft. My work is led by materiality and my understanding of crochet. Each work aims to showcase the beauty of the material and the level of technique, because that was my main form of expression. I never wanted to express anything beyond that. My foray into what I considered ‘Art’ (in 2019) began with my ‘Landscapes’ series, which utilised found objects (usually broken), ‘mended’ with crochet that took the shape of ‘invasive’ plants that filled in the gaps. (This theme of crochet growing between cracks is also apparent in my large-scale installation for GUCCI in 2021).
Awajishima (Landscapes series), 2020. Ceramic pitcher (found), Wood stump, Japanese silk, Indian silk washi, Ramie, Pure flax, Thai cotton, Bhutan silk
Comfort of Craft vs. Provocation of Art
Textile work often mimics Nature, because it is so close to it in terms of materiality, and personality— soft, feminine, slow, anti-urban. Many who embrace craft do so because it gives us the same comfort Nature does. When I began creating these nature-inspired artworks, it served to bring me back to the uninhibited wildness I experienced outside the mostly sterile environment of Singapore. Many who create in the image of Nature sing the same tune— reminds audiences to slow down; raises awareness of the diminishing environment; implores us to notice the subtleties of life.
These are not wrong. However, as I ventured further into the art world, I sensed many other emotions. Anger, sadness, discontent, plain madness. Being beautiful and perfect as it is, I find it hard for Nature to express depravity or unfairness; and I never want to mix the two. I realised my work told very little of who I am and what I thought— my impatience, my indignation, my fight.
Perhaps it is different in other countries like Japan, but Craft is not well-understood, much less respected in Singapore. I felt an urge to confront this, and that my peaceful works could not stay as they were. In the early days, it felt unfair that my work was often ignored in the larger art world, though I acknowledge that might have been different should I have persevered. I am glad though, that I questioned and challenged the boundary, because my work would not have evolved otherwise. But I would not leave my roots in craft, so addressing the boundaries surrounding Craft, WITH craft, has formed the basis of my art practice.
Photo capturing the destruction of vessel Clingy, eventually becoming the artwork Committed (2022). Part of my Unbecoming series.
In the English-speaking* world, there is much frustration with Craft being seen as female-dominated, domestic, and thus “lesser”. This has resulted in movements to regard Craft as Art. Does it help to lump the two together, without attempting to understand their differences? In my opinion, the crux is this— that Craft is perceived to be of lower status than Art. After having swum in these murky waters for a few years, I have an internal clarity that Art and Craft are two sides to the same coin— like Light and Shadow, Life and Death— one must exist to bring meaning to the other. It is not a problem that they are different, but that one is seen as less important, even though both deserve equal respect.
*The words ‘Art’ and ‘Craft’ themselves are in English, and being confined thus, by language. This boundary shifts when spoken about in other languages, perhaps when they can be represented by more than singular words.
The Art Object
In an exercise during my talk, I threw out a handful of artist names, local and international, ranging from George Nakashima to Olafur Eliasson, and asked the crowd to try placing them in (a simplified version of) the Venn diagram above. I briefly described the practices of names that did not seem recognised. As expected, some answers were absolutely certain (Marina Abramović was of course, irrefutably in ‘Art’); some others drew silences. I ended the exercise with a painting by Pierre-Auguste Renoir (who I like the best among the Impressionists), and shared this quote recalled by his son Jean Renoir in the book, “Renoir, My Father”:
“What is to be done about these literary people, who will never understand that painting is a craft and that the material side of it comes first? The ideas come afterwards, when the picture is finished.”
While we must also consider that the book was first published in 1962 and that Renoir was active in the late 1800s painting figures and landscapes, I still see truth in his words. Why is painting seen as the indisputable ‘Art object’? Is the craft in a painting as wilfully ignored as the art in a Craft object? The fact that a room full of people had different answers to my Venn diagram exercise proves that these boundaries have always been shifting.
Here, I introduced one last example: possibly the most talked-about banana in the world. Yes, the taped banana entitled “Comedian” by Maurizio Cattela, which the mass public has come to regard as the icon of ‘Art I will never understand’. Where does it sit in the Venn diagram? There’s no way it sits in Craft; it sits in Design, perhaps, if you consider it a certain way.
But here we have what makes ‘Art’ what it is: its ability to make people talk. If there was a work that was ugly, grotesque, not aesthetically pleasing— then the only place it could (doesn’t mean it can) sit in the Venn diagram, perhaps to the confusion and consternation of the mass public, is in the red circle. That, to me, is the biggest difference with Art. Craft and Design exist to please the human mind and body. It is comfort. But Art does not. It could please too, yes, but it doesn’t aim to do so. Its power is in its ability to make you think.
The Practice
The trouble with my exercise is how you are only catching a glimpse of an artist’s entire practice. If you know nothing about them, you are likely to judge them differently once you have read about their practice beyond the single-sentence summary and image I gave to my audience.
That is what makes Art so contextual, and why it needs understanding beyond a single image. I love Renoir’s paintings, and they are celebrated today; but back in the day, they shocked and disgusted the public, because his nudes looked to them like they were rotting bodies. Contemporary Art begs even more of your attention, especially if it has wandered in from completely foreign territory, both geographically and historically.
This brings us to the other thing that makes Art what it is— the practice. The practice in Craft is also important, but the craftsman focuses on getting each and every piece of work perfect in their eyes. They consider its beauty, and its function (for items like tableware). That is why many Craftsmen train for years without ever selling anything, and only do so when they have reached a certain standard. Looking at the Craft object, can you sense the thoughts of the Craftsman? You might recognise a personality and style, but what do they think about war? The environment? You will never know, and I argue that the mark of a good Craftsman is that you will never know their world. Many of them choose to remain invisible, such as Kawai Kanjiro, celebrated potter and one of the key figures of the Mingei movement.
Art is hardly ever about the singular work. It is considered in the artist’s oeuvre. Inversely, a Craftsman is often judged on each object they determine is good enough to put out. I have met Ceramists who sell only 1 or 2 works from an entire kiln’s firing. In that way, The practice for Craftsmen is almost like a religion; laid bare, it requires honesty. Only the maker themselves can judge if something is good enough to represent them. (Unfortunately, many who create in the name of Craft* these days abuse words like ‘wabi-sabi’ to allow themselves a huge amount of slack, forgetting that the spirit of Craft is not self-indulgence but to better oneself, to bring forth the potential of your material.)
*The ‘Craft’ I refer to in this article specifically refers to people who practise it as a job, and respond to the title of ‘Craftsman’, not hobby crafters who are crafting for enjoyment and exploration.
In Art, the gesture seems to be prioritised over the outcome— we see this when an artist has peaked. All the previous trials, processes and wonderings leading to the tipping point suddenly surge in value. An artist, thus, can never be nameless, because their name forms the chain; and in some cases, linking up otherwise seemingly unrelated explorations. I surmise that the artist journey of finding their truth (led by their vision) is what intrigues people. People are invested in that journey, and that is why the Practice forms the basis of Art.
Crafting Art, not Arting Craft
But does that make Art sit above Craft? Not at all, in my opinion. As English-speaking people, we have been made to believe there is only one way to think about things. But consider the shokunin in Japan, equally respected, and with Craft objects costing much more than Artworks in some cases. I believe Art AND Craft must work hand in hand; only then can we test the limits of our human abilities. It helps no one to lump the 2 together, simply because ‘Artist’ rings better than ‘Craftsperson’. It does not help the Sunday crafter to name themself an ‘artist’ on their social media profile. Coming up with an ‘artistic’ statement to append to your Craft object does nothing except to hoodwink the insensitive buyer. The desperation to market and sell (no doubt an effect of capitalism) has made us dishonest. But how can we grow if we do not acknowledge what level of skill we really are at?
It is quite timely that I have come across this interview with artist Anish Kapoor, in which he flatly states, “I have nothing to say as an artist.” While he is quite firmly seated within the Art realm in spite of him acknowledging his lack of interest in expression, we also have to remember that industry shapes and changes these boundaries. Identity is a combination of factors, not all of which is manipulated by oneself. And afterall, the choice of not saying anything and avoiding expression, IS an ideology in itself. It is in knowing they are different, that we can understand they are the same.
“Light is the left hand of darkness and darkness the right hand of light. ”