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Ryuichi Sakamoto: Playing the Piano I, 2023
Acrylic on linen
36 × 48 inch
Ryuichi Sakamoto: Playing the Piano II, 2023
Acrylic on linen
36 × 48 inch
Ryuichi Sakamoto: Playing the Piano III, 2023
Acrylic on linen
36 × 48 inch
Solo Exhibition
Dec 6th 2023 - Jan 14th 2024
Yun Hai
Brooklyn, NY, USA
Photos by Laurent Hsia
Emilie Liu (b. 1986, Taipei) is a Brooklyn-based queer painter working between emoji-like, minimalist dog portraits, cropped close, and abstractions drawn from the rhythms of nature. Through color and texture she explores feeling, language, and belonging. The dog figure comes from her own dog, Jupiter: a body that carries no gender or race for a viewer to read, so the feeling arrives first. Drawing on Jungian psychology, in which water is the oldest image of the unconscious, and on a Taiwanese childhood in which feelings went unnamed, her recent paintings extend beyond the figure to the flow of water and air. Each painting holds what she could not say out loud.
Liu has exhibited at Chinatown Soup, Van Der Plas Gallery, Yun Hai, and the School of Visual Arts Gallery in New York, and in a 2026 group exhibition in Taipei that she co-curated. She holds an MFA in Computer Arts from the School of Visual Arts, New York (2012) and a BFA in Advertising from National Chengchi University, Taipei (2010). Before painting full time, Liu spent over a decade as a senior visual designer and art director at Google, Meta, and motion graphics production companies, with commercial work broadcast internationally. She lives and works in Brooklyn, New York.
Bio
Statement
I visualize feelings in my paintings through color and texture. They began as minimalist dog figures, a presence that holds them; now they also surface as the rhythms of nature, the present they move through.
I never fit in as a child, not knowing yet that I was both queer and hypersensitive. I only knew I cringed at my own feelings. Everything came to me as image before it came as language, so I could never say out loud what I felt. When my older sister bullied me until I cried, the adults laughed instead of stepping in. In my family, the soft one was the joke. I used to seem overly sentimental, overly sympathetic, sometimes overly happy. It was safer not to be seen, so I learned to look away. It is exhausting to be overwhelmed by emotion while letting none of it show.
In 2019, my dog Jupiter came into my life. We understood each other without language, and he saw me without the labels or judgments people carry. Whatever I was feeling, he stayed; nothing about me was too much for him. Through Jupiter, I felt seen and caught for the first time. My early paintings hold what I saw in him: his goofiness, his pure joy, cropped close and amplified. I paint these dogs in acrylic, at the size his joy actually felt to me.
Over time the dog figure became a character I could project myself into, a vessel for my own stories. A dog carries no gender or race to read, so the feeling arrives first. A feeling is the one thing that never needs translating. In English as a Second Language, these figures hold what it is to live in New York as an immigrant, in a second language. The work reads as figurative, but I build abstract textures in the negative space, where the flow of feeling has always been.
Jupiter taught me to notice what is flowing in each moment. In 2022, I became a mother. Raising my child, I am raising myself again: teaching him to recognize his feelings, I learn to recognize mine. Recognizing a feeling is not the same as being able to name it.
A brushstroke can reach where language cannot, and give the feeling a form. In Jungian thought, water is the oldest image of the unconscious. Water Studies moves in two parts: first Jupiter swimming in water that is never still; then the flow alone, as much sky as water, where color and texture in oil carry the feeling with no figure to hold on to. I paint water ripples, clouds, leaves in the wind. These rhythms are the feelings of life, felt rather than explained.
I want my paintings to be a room where the viewer's mind can breathe.