Emerald Repard Denniston: Every time I paint, I feel so alive!
I met Emerald at an artist residency we shared in Zhujiajiao, on the suburbs of Shanghai. In the first mental picture I have of her, I see her walking through the glass door of the café at the entrance of the building where we later lived: petite, energetic, with Asian features, dark skin, lively eyes, a wide smile, bangs, all dressed in black with cargo pants. Young, very young, close to her 20s, backpack in one hand, skateboard in the other. She told me her name was Emerald, and she was from Canada. We spent a few days together trying to land on a new planet called China, exploring the neighborhood, figuring out how to buy ingredients to feed ourselves, and jumping over the virtual wall that prevents a glimpse of the West so as not to lose contact with our countries. Meanwhile, winter was slowly fading away, and the residency, which had been closed during the long Shanghai lockdown, was gradually being dusted off.
Second picture: Emerald was working on a series of 10 small oil paintings, about 30 x 35 cm, with a cool palette ranging from a vibrant green to various shades of blue, with some warm notes. Many of them featured two young female characters. «This interests me,» I thought. There was something about the discontented vitality of her work, her energetic way of pointing out the strangeness of the world without falling into pessimism, that kept me interested as the days went by. Later, I learned that this series was a lesbian reinterpretation of the Chinese Mid-Autumn myth associated with the moon, starring Chang’e and her beloved Hou Yi. Emerald’s work often delves into the queer universe and the diaspora of Chinese children adopted due to China’s one-child policy, of which she was part.
Sometimes my gaze drifts across a surface, a landscape, even a group of people, and everything becomes a “background,” until something catches my attention, and I stop. The longer I want to stay there, the more what I found fits into the category of discovery, and this was neither the only nor the main one in this story.
She also told me that, besides coming to the residency to work, it was her first time returning to China since she was born and taken to Canada, adopted by her current family. One of her projects was to travel to her native province to help spread the search for the birth families of children given up for adoption. A few days after her departure, she sent a message in the group chat we had, telling us that—much sooner than she had expected—she had found her own family in a rural village. We received the news with great surprise, incomparable to what it must have been for her.
I took these photos of her in her studio during the residency. A few months after it ended, we did this virtual interview.
Emerald, here’s my first question: What makes you get out of bed in the morning?
Knowing that there’s a breakfast waiting for me and a sky I can look at. I’ve been going for morning walks and painting a lot this past month. Every time I paint, I feel so alive!
What were you like as a child? Introverted, curious? And what was your first approach to art?
I was very sociable and extroverted as a child. I was always the class clown and easily distracted. I remember not being able to focus, struggling a bit with math and science, but I always looked forward to art and physical education classes. I had great teachers in elementary school who always gave us fun art projects, and I also made small clay sculptures at home in my free time. This continued into my later high school years when everyone was trying to figure out what they wanted to do with their future and which universities to apply to. That’s when I started making art more intentionally for my portfolio.
What was the environment like where you grew up?
I grew up in North Vancouver, Canada, which is about 15-20 minutes by car from Vancouver city, surrounded by nature, big green trees, and a mountain. I’m an outdoor lover; my family is active and still lives there.
What is your family’s relationship with the arts?
My mom attended Emily Carr University to study interior design and later went to Ryerson University in Toronto for the same program. She was a big advocate for me pursuing art; she saw my creative abilities early on and encouraged me to follow them. My dad is an engineer, so he has a more analytical mind and is very successful at what he does. He’s good at business and taught my sister and me to be self-sufficient and manage money well. I think my family has a good appreciation for the arts and enjoys discussing the topic.
Let’s talk about your influences: books, movies, friends, painters, and anything else you feel has influenced you and your work.
This summer, I’ve been reading Queer Phenomenology, a book my friend Akash had started reading too. I was intrigued and set myself the goal to finish it by the end of the summer. While painting, I keep Hilma AF Klint’s notebook on artistic methods with me, along with a discography book published by Anthony Cudahy. I’m also influenced by painters like Killion Huang, Salman Toor, Catherine Desroches, Amanda Ba, Shyama Golden, Ding Shilun… too many to count. The other night, I watched Our Love Story and Joy Ride, and while we were in residency together, I tried to catch up on my 2000s sapphic Asian films, including Blue, Love of My Life, The Chinese Botanist’s Daughter, Butterfly, and Drifting Flowers. This summer, I’ve been painting my friends Nina and Dee; we’ve talked a lot about queer spaces of intimacy, homes, and the poetics of love.
For those unfamiliar, can you tell us what themes converge in your work?
I want to speak about politics both in private and public spheres, creating spaces where bodily experiences oscillate between pain and pleasure, intertwining the real and the dreamlike. My practice mixes my autobiographical intimacy with playful gestures loaded with symbolism. I’m influenced by cynical realism, flat painting, and illustration, and I’m interested in exploring themes related to representation, diasporic storytelling, and queer theory. Through my work, I aim to provoke a visceral response to all this, forcing viewers to engage with the contemplation of the contemporary world.
Tell us about your technique. Do you enjoy changing it? Do you feel you’ve found a medium that allows you to express yourself?
I’m trying to play with painting, experimenting with new ways to apply it, and using different brushstrokes and techniques. I’m still learning and wouldn’t consider myself an expert in the medium. I mainly work in oil and tend to change my color palettes according to the season. I get obsessed with certain color schemes at a time, and I’ve been using a lot of greens and blues lately. I try not to get stuck in just one way of doing things.
I know you also have a collective. Can you tell us more about that?
Yes! I started this collective with a friend in 2021 when I was still in my undergrad at OCAD University, and I’ve been a part of it ever since, organizing different shows and community events. The Shoes Off Collective is a community for OCAD students and alumni who identify as Asian to connect as friends and co-creators through art, design, identity, culture, activism, and social issues. We hang out together, eat together, create together, and work to build a network of creatives, support each other, and stay connected. It’s been a big part of my life in recent years, and I’m so grateful for the lasting friendships and community I’ve made through this collective
Conflict with internal occident and external orient. Story of isolation. Watch
Regarding the themes you’re interested in, would you like to talk more about the Chinese diaspora in general and your story in particular?
I think I’m still processing everything since I returned to China. I went there searching for my roots and found my biological family. I met over 20 of them in Hengyang, and we spent 5 full days together. I had longed for that moment my entire life, and most of my questions were answered. Since then, I’ve been trying to live healthily day by day… It feels like time has flown, and 4 months have passed since I met them. Mentally, I’m still there; sometimes I have flashes, moments where I relive the entire experience of meeting them and being with them. We stay in touch through a big family group chat on WeChat (a Chinese social network). They send me food photos, selfies, and Chinese TikToks. My family is very social, happy, and loving. The experience of being a transracial Chinese adoptee is complex and heartbreaking for everyone involved. It was great to have The Nanchang Project (a nonprofit group supporting adoptees in searching for and connecting with similar adoptees), which put me in a big group chat with other adoptees. I feel very supported by them, my friends, and my Canadian family, who make me feel safe in times of instability. I plan to return for Chinese New Year next year. I’m processing complex emotions and stories, understanding, learning, and knowing that I’m healing and my family is healing.
