Just a few weeks after meeting with Emery Dong ’27 — who interviewed me for a past “Artist of the Week” article — here I am, for the first time, sharing my writing with The Phoenix. Pulling a metaphorical “Uno Reverse” card, I’ve decided to flip the roles and interview the interviewer. How could I not? Emery is an artist with whom I’ve shared several classes, where I’ve had the opportunity to closely observe his creative process and the qualities that define his work. These experiences have only deepened my curiosity to hear, in his own words, about his artistic journey.
Growing up, Emery spent much of his time on weekends and even after school helping out at his parents’ Chinese restaurant. “I guess that was when I first started making art,” he said. There, when customers were few, the days were less busy, or he had already finished his tasks, Emery found himself picking up a graphite pencil and bringing pieces of food to life by personifying them in his drawings. Those drawings would eventually evolve into the comics he created.
His exploration of other artistic mediums also began at the Chinese restaurant. Emery had a family friend named Martha who would visit the restaurant almost every week. “She provided me with art supplies and materials, which I really appreciated,” he mentioned. His first time exploring color pencils started by following YouTube tutorials. “I saved up enough money for Prismacolors and followed along this [hyperrealistic] cherry tutorial,” he recalled. Outside, just behind the restaurant, lay a large field where he used to do his nature photography. Using just his iPhone camera, he captured images of plants, flowers, insects, and wildlife. “My dad must have seen how invested I was, [such] that he let me borrow his [digital] camera,” he added. With it, Emery began capturing moments that stirred him from within.
Emery truly started to expand his artistic interest in the latter half of high school. “I actually had art pieces that got selected to be at a student gallery art show,” he recalled. “I remembered the first time a lady came up to me and wanted to buy one of my works that was on display. That experience itself was really shocking for me,” Emery continued. Never had Emery imagined his creations might echo so profoundly within someone that they would want them for their own, letting them live among the walls of their home.
Transitioning from high school to college, Emery found himself pushed beyond his prior experience with graphite and acrylic. In Painting I: Drawing Into Painting, taught by Sara Lawrence Lightfoot Professor of Art Randall Exon, he learned to approach painting as a slow, layered process of building up paint in an entirely new way. Yet, with each passing brushstroke of oil paint, I was lucky enough to witness how the particular character of his paintings began to quietly emerge on the canvas. In our conversation, I found a gentle moment of clarity that eased my curiosity and revealed the true spirit behind those elements: “In different stages of my life, no matter what medium of art I was using, I was still trying to capture a feeling or a moment in time,” he shared.
Emery is both a studio art and psychology major. This is not a coincidence, as he points out. “I think there is probably some sort of pathway in my brain that gravitates towards both of these subjects,” he explained. By framing art as a practical form of emotional expression, Emery draws attention to its relationship with the discipline focused on behavior and the mind. The challenge of representing such complex conscious experiences remains in instances of his artistic approach — a struggle I also encounter, as it sometimes slows my thought process when approaching my work.
Following our discussion around psychology, I brought up an idea from a conversation I had with my professor in one of my art classes, one that also resonated with Emery. We reflected on how certain qualities within an artist’s work, though not necessarily stylistic, seem to stand out with a distinct and personal clarity. These qualities are often shaped by the individual experiences and the unique ways in which our minds perceive and process the world.
“I think the personality of the person comes into play. What draws some, who might be more sensitive to the environment or able to pick up a quieter peace, might gravitate then towards similar feelings,” Emery added. Recognizing this allows us to better identify the elements that instinctively engage us — the visual or conceptual stimuli our minds are naturally drawn toward.
In talking through this, Emery and I both came to recognize that being part of a community of artists allows us to absorb a wider range of perspectives, ultimately enriching our own creative understanding. “I guess you can’t know what you don’t know,” Emery suggested. Painting I marked the starting point, where Emery began to recognize the elements that naturally manifested throughout his artwork process. Reflecting on this shift, he noted, “I think it is ironic in a way — the first time I got serious with art was through realism, whether it would be graphite or color pencil, but now it has strayed away from realism … It’s just not what I’m seeking now.”
Closely observing his work evokes a distinctive atmosphere: subdued, almost dreamlike. Curious about his influences, I asked Emery which artists resonated with him. Immediately, he pointed to Vilhelm Hammershøi and George Inness. Reflecting on past art critiques, he recalled how many students described his paintings as carrying an unsettling quality, despite that never being his intention. As Emery insightfully remarked, “it’s a relationship between the viewer and the artwork.” What makes this especially compelling is the subjectivity of such responses, the way meaning shifts from one viewer to another. After college, Emery plans to pursue a career as a clinical psychologist, and when asked whether he intends to merge this path with his artistic practice, his response is an immediate “no.” Still, in working on a summer project — illustrating “Wind and Waves: An Eagle’s Journey Through Grief and Loss” by psychologist Michael J. Lucido — Emery has gained a deeper appreciation for the meaningful connections that can exist between the two fields. In the context of his senior project, earlier assignments revealed moments of tension that ultimately pointed him toward an important realization — his creative process thrives when he leans into the qualities that arise most naturally from within. These are the same elements his mind instinctively gravitates toward, which he now intends to explore more fully: “that more muted, totalistic, subdued, peaceful kind of feeling.”
