Artist Statement

There is no substitute for the skill of the human eye and hand.

I am a first-generation Chinese American, raised in my family’s tailoring business. Like many family-run shops, I began helping at a young age, learning the craft of mending and tailoring through practice and repetition. Over time, these skills have found their way into my art.

In my current work, I incorporate red plastic string, commonly used in wrapping Chinese Zhongzi 粽子, to create large-scale sculptures that extend from the wall. Each piece is realized through labor-intensive repetition: sewing, knitting, crocheting, weaving, braiding, and Chinese knotting techniques shape these forms. My process involves mastering techniques, researching materials, and experimenting with form as a way of honoring generations of artisans who have continuously sought refinement in craft, execution, and creativity.

This work is slow and meticulous, requiring dexterity and patience. For me, it serves as an homage to the human touch and to the achievements often overlooked in a world driven by speed and automation. Manufactured goods demand great manual effort. Many commercial products still rely on hand finishing or skilled operators to run machines. Machines do not negate people. Behind every object is a hand, a gesture, a contribution.

By combining modern synthetic materials with traditional handcrafts, I aim to reflect on and restore the connection between automation and manual labor, honoring both as intertwined and indispensable to the objects we create and the lives we build.

Red winds through her work like a lifeline. It coils, knots, and arcs across space, binding air to matter. Tracy Tse takes a strand of plastic string, a thing that might otherwise be overlooked, and gives it weight, presence, and breath. She moves it through the ancient motions of sewing, knitting, crocheting, and knotting. The gestures repeat, not mechanically, but with the quiet deliberation of someone storing memory in the body.

In her hands, the string becomes more than material. It is vein and thread, celebration and warning, inheritance and offering. It clings to surfaces, spills across walls, reaches outward as if searching for something just beyond reach. The vivid red recalls ceremonies and thresholds, love and blood, the pulse that binds the private to the communal.

Tse’s sculptures hum with the time it took to make them. They carry the patience of the hand, the knowledge that every knot is both anchor and opening. To stand before them is to be reminded that making is an act of care, and that care leaves a trace.

Editor’s Note