Interviewe mat Coy N

I always wanted to become a professional artist. After I moved to the United States I felt free to follow my passion to become a full-time artist.

My studio is in the middle of the city but pretty quiet and easy to focus on my artwork.

I am an artist and I use my talents and communication skill to show my passion to help pieces become objects intertwined in the user's life. When I am designing a piece I care about what I think the user's desires and needs will be for the work.

Functional, Tableware.

One of my favorite designs was based on Church and Synagogue stained glass windows and made into dishes.

a flower pot

Clay and 3D software

At the end of a project thinking about a new one.

Functional

I think about users' satisfaction.

Grateful. Self improved.

The sale of that piece.

It's easy to tell if the design is bad because my work is functional. So the first thing is it needs to prove useful.

Using good quality materials that are more durable and long-lasting. Even then they also need to be materials that can be recycled or are biodegradable.

The development ant integration of the 3D printer has evolved things considerably. My designs are often more minimalist.

The last exhibition was from November 1, 2020, through December 26, 2020. The PLace was "ARTSPACE 1241". I am planning the 2022 next exhibition.

My inspirations from my life. Being a professional artist I am always sharpening my vision.

My work is based on ceramic art, both through traditional skills and expanding technologies.

There was no single moment of discovery. I simply kept testing until I found a way to achieve the result I had in mind.From the beginning, I wanted the wood-grain pattern to continue naturally across the entire piece, including the surface, edges, and underside. Achieving that continuity required technical experience, experimentation, and time. I tested different clay bodies, layering methods, and forming processes until I found an approach that preserved the visual flow throughout the object.For me, the significance of this development was not the pattern itself, but what it represented. Wood grain is not a surface decoration; it is a record of growth accumulated over time. I wanted the visual character of Govy to emerge from the structure of the material rather than from something applied afterward.This realization shaped the entire direction of the collection. Instead of treating the pattern as decoration, I focused on creating forms where the material, structure, and visual expression were inseparable. For me, Govy was not born from a single moment of inspiration. It is the result of technical skill, experience, testing, and time.

I presented a variety of forms and color options for evaluation. Some pieces were visually striking on their own, but when food was placed on them, the overall presentation became too busy or distracting.The feedback helped identify which combinations created the best balance between the tableware and the food. Rather than competing with the dish, the selected forms and color tones supported and enhanced its appearance. In many cases, the most successful options were not the most visually dramatic ones, but those that allowed the food to remain the focal point.Although Govy is handmade and exists somewhere between art and craft, my goal was never to create objects that felt complete on their own. I wanted to create tableware that becomes more complete when food is placed on it. The relationship between the vessel and the food is an important part of the design itself.What surprised me was that chefs did not necessarily choose the most visually striking pieces. They often preferred the ones that made the food look its best. Those conversations reminded me that good tableware is not only about the object itself. It is also about how it works together with food and how it feels in everyday use.For the award presentation, I intentionally chose not to show food in the photographs. I wanted viewers to imagine for themselves what they would like to serve on the pieces. Of course, photographs with food are available on my website, but I felt it was important to first present the tableware as an open possibility rather than a fixed dining scene.

My interest was never simply in reproducing a wood-grain pattern. What fascinated me was the idea of wood grain as a record of growth accumulated over time.Wood grain is not a surface decoration. It is the result of a tree's internal structure and years of development. Rather than imitating its appearance, I wanted to reinterpret that sense of accumulated time and layered memory through clay.For this reason, the pattern is not treated as something applied to the surface. It exists throughout the entire piece and continues across the edges and underside. This continuity was essential to the concept because it reflects the idea that the visual character of the work comes from its structure rather than from decoration.While traditional techniques such as nerikomi have influenced my thinking, I am more interested in the underlying principle than in the technique itself. For me, the value of such methods lies in their ability to generate visual expression from the material structure rather than from surface treatment.I believe Govy demonstrates that traditional ceramic knowledge can remain relevant when it is adapted to contemporary questions and ideas. Traditional techniques do not need to remain fixed in the past. They can continue to evolve and become part of new design systems and new ways of thinking about material.

I believe Govy brings together originality, material research, and practical function in a way that feels natural rather than forced. The project was not developed to follow a market trend or respond to a short-term commercial opportunity. It began with a simple curiosity about how the growth patterns found in wood could be translated into clay while remaining true to the nature of the material.Because Govy is designed as tableware, it must function in everyday use. At the same time, I wanted each piece to carry a strong visual identity that comes from its structure rather than from applied decoration. The collection is adaptable to different cuisines because the forms are intentionally simple and versatile, allowing a wide range of food traditions to be presented without imposing a specific cultural context.What the Bronze A' Design Award means to me is not only recognition of the final objects, but also recognition of the process behind them. More than fifty clay bodies were tested before the collection reached its final form. Much of that work happened outside conventional commercial timelines, where efficiency and speed are often prioritized.I believe material research requires patience. Some ideas cannot be rushed because understanding a material takes time. For me, Govy demonstrates that long-term investigation, experimentation, and persistence still have value. Innovation does not always come from new technology. Sometimes it comes from spending enough time with a material to discover possibilities that were not immediately visible.

It is difficult to identify a single failure because the development process involved continuous testing, and most of the tests failed in one way or another. Some clay combinations produced beautiful colors but cracked during firing. Others remained stable but lost the visual depth I was looking for. In many cases, a promising result in one area revealed a problem in another.One important realization was that appearance alone could not determine whether a material combination was successful. I had to consider color compatibility, shrinkage rates, workability, firing behavior, durability, and the final user experience at the same time. This shifted my thinking from searching for the most visually interesting result to searching for balance across multiple factors.Over time, these repeated failures became a form of research. Each unsuccessful test eliminated one possibility and clarified another. The material stability and visual coherence of Govy are not the result of a single breakthrough, but rather the accumulation of many small lessons learned through testing. The final collection exists because of those failures as much as those successes.

The development of Govy was not a continuous process. During part of that period, the pandemic significantly increased my responsibilities in education and volunteer activities. By nature, when people need help or support, I try my best to provide it. As a result, much of my time and energy was dedicated to students, community work, and other commitments outside the studio.Govy also required a type of development process that could not easily be done in small increments. Many of the tests involved preparing materials, building layered structures, firing, evaluating results, and making adjustments. Because of this, progress often happened slowly between semesters rather than through uninterrupted periods of production.Looking back, I do not see those interruptions as lost time. The distance allowed me to return to the project with fresh eyes and a clearer understanding of what was essential. Some ideas were simplified, while others became more refined.My appreciation for wood grain itself has remained remarkably consistent over the years. I have always been fascinated by its beauty and complexity. To be honest, I think it would be difficult to find many people who dislike wood grain.What changed was not my appreciation of wood grain, but my understanding of the challenges involved in translating it into clay. The longer I worked on the project, the more I understood the technical, material, and structural decisions required to achieve the result I envisioned. Over time, I gained a deeper understanding of what was necessary to bring that vision closer to reality.In that sense, the years between development phases became part of the project itself. Govy reflects not only making, but also teaching, community engagement, observation, reflection, and the gradual evolution of an idea over time.

I do not see Govy as a finished endpoint. I see it as a foundation that can continue to evolve.One of the advantages of the system is its flexibility. Thickness, scale, and form can be adjusted to suit different contexts, from domestic dining to professional hospitality environments. Future development may include additional forms and sizes, but my primary interest is not simply expanding the product range. I am more interested in exploring how the underlying material logic can be applied in new ways.The research behind Govy was never only about tableware. It was also an investigation into how layered structures, growth patterns, and material memory can be translated into ceramic form. That research continues to influence other areas of my practice.At this stage, I do not want to define exactly where that research will lead. What Govy has provided is a foundation and a set of possibilities. I would like to take the time to carefully consider which directions are worth pursuing rather than expanding for the sake of expansion.For me, the most valuable outcome of Govy is not a specific form or color variation. It is the understanding that a material can carry meaning through its structure. That idea continues to suggest new possibilities, and I am interested in seeing where it may lead in the future.

One aspect of Govy that I do not think I have fully articulated publicly is the question of why a new object needs to exist in the first place.We already live in a world filled with objects. Because of that, I believe creating something new requires more than producing another variation of what already exists. For me, the challenge is not simply making a functional object, but creating something that justifies its own existence.This idea influenced Govy from the beginning. I was not interested in applying a wood-grain pattern to ceramic surfaces as decoration. I wanted the visual identity of the work to emerge from its structure and material logic. In that sense, the project was not only about appearance, but also about finding a meaningful relationship between concept, process, and function.Perhaps that is the philosophy underlying Govy. Before thinking about how to make something, I think it is important to ask why it needs to be made at all.

The knot-like formations are intentionally planned, but not with absolute precision. Their approximate placement and scale are determined according to the size, proportion, and function of each piece.When developing a form, I consider where a knot might naturally occur within the visual flow of the grain and how it will interact with the overall composition. A large serving bowl, for example, allows for a different scale and distribution than a small cup or plate. The goal is not to create identical patterns, but to create a sense of balance that feels natural to the form.At the same time, I do not try to control every detail. Part of the appeal of layered clay construction is that it introduces subtle variations that cannot be fully predicted. I see those variations as an important part of the process rather than something that needs to be eliminated.For me, the challenge is finding the balance between intention and variation. Too much control can make the result feel artificial, while too much randomness can weaken the visual coherence of the piece. I try to establish a structure that guides the composition while allowing enough freedom for each object to retain its own character.In that respect, the process is not very different from the way wood itself develops. There is an underlying structure, but there is also variation. That balance is something I wanted Govy to preserve.

One thing I would want people to understand is that the wood-grain pattern is not applied to the surface. It is generated through the structure of the material itself. The appearance is the result of decisions made during construction rather than decoration added afterward.Because of this, the process begins long before a piece takes its final shape. The layers must be planned, constructed, compressed, formed, and fired while maintaining both visual continuity and material stability. What people see on the finished surface is only the visible outcome of a much larger process taking place within the clay body.I think this idea is important because it changes the way we look at the object. The pattern is not something sitting on top of the material. It is part of the material itself.Holding a finished piece communicates something that photographs cannot fully capture. You can follow the grain across the surface, edges, and underside and recognize that it continues throughout the object rather than ending at a decorative layer. The weight, texture, and physical presence of the piece also become part of the experience.For me, that experience is less about understanding a technique and more about understanding the relationship between material, structure, and form. The object is not hiding how it was made. In many ways, the process remains visible within the finished piece.