THERESIA ZHANG
An interview with Freya Xu, August 21, 2026
Born in Beijing and currently based in New York, Theresia Zhang is a painter whose practice navigates the intersections of literature, theater, illustration, and contemporary painting. Educated at Maryland Institute College of Art and later at the New York Academy of Art, Zhang constructs vivid, color-saturated worlds that explore the tensions between nature and civilization, reality and performance, memory and imagination. Her concept of “Reverse Chinoiserie” repositions the historical gaze of Chinoiserie, allowing her to examine Western culture through a distinctly Chinese perspective. We spoke with Zhang about storytelling, migration, theatricality, and the role of painting in an increasingly mediated world.
Freya Xu: Your work often feels cinematic, almost like scenes extracted from a larger narrative. Could you tell us about your early relationship with storytelling and how it eventually led you to painting?
Theresia Zhang: I grew up with books and stories. Before I seriously considered myself a painter, I was constantly reading novels - especially Western literature - drawing characters, and imagining worlds that extended beyond what I could physically see. I was fascinated by how literature could create emotional realities that felt more vivid than everyday life. Painting eventually became a way to materialize those imagined spaces. Rather than illustrating a story directly, I became interested in creating images that function like fragments of a larger narrative - moments suspended between what has happened and what is about to happen. I am even writing my own novels about war, love, and relationships. My recent painting works are extensions of my literary work, which is a story of pilots and scientists in a hospital during the great war.
Freya Xu: You were trained in illustration before pursuing painting. How do these disciplines continue to inform one another in your practice?
Theresia Zhang: Illustration taught me how to think about narrative structure, character, and visual communication. Painting, on the other hand, taught me ambiguity and emotions. In illustration, there is often a responsibility to clarify meaning. In painting, I am more interested in allowing multiple interpretations to coexist. The two disciplines continue to influence one another. My paintings often contain narrative clues, but they resist becoming fully legible stories. I want viewers to complete the narrative themselves. My love of early 20th century golden age illustration creates a new way of expression for my oil painting works, which continually enhances the iconic style. And I feel free to melt my literary story with my paintings together in my own visual language.
A String of Beads, 2026, Oil on linen, 16 × 20 in. Courtesy of the artist.
Freya Xu: You have described your practice through the concept of “Reverse Chinoiserie.” Could you elaborate on what that means to you?
Theresia Zhang: Historically, Chinoiserie was a Western fantasy about China. It reflected how Europe imagined the East rather than how China actually existed. Reverse Chinoiserie emerged from my experience as a young Chinese girl living in Europe, later became an artist, living in the United States. Instead of being the object of observation, I became the observer. I found myself looking at Western cities, landscapes, and cultural habits through the lens of my own upbringing. The work is not about critique alone; it is about translation. I am interested in what happens when two cultural systems encounter one another, and neither remains entirely unchanged. To me, the definition of Chinoiserie could extend to more complex languages. It applies to me as a Chinese girl who lives in the 21th century, 2026 as for now, looking back on the aesthetics of ancient China, or even early 2000, which I’m familiar with but feel distant and nostalgic.
Freya Xu: Nature appears repeatedly in your paintings, often juxtaposed against urban environments. What draws you to this relationship?
Theresia Zhang: I think many people living in contemporary cities experience a strange contradiction. We are physically separated from nature, yet we continue to long for it. There is a sense of awe, but also distance. My work often explores that emotional condition. The landscapes in my paintings are rarely straightforward depictions of real places. They are psychological landscapes that reflect a desire for connection alongside an awareness of separation.
Freya Xu: The theatrical quality of your compositions is striking. How has theater influenced your visual language?
Theresia Zhang: Theater has influenced both the structure and emotional atmosphere of my work. A stage is an artificial space,using a limited amount of props to create an environment. But it allows us to experience very real emotions. I think painting functions similarly. I stage and construct the figures in my paintings, allowing them to occupy spaces, suggesting potential emotions. I am interested in the tension between authenticity and performance, especially in a time when so much of our social experience is mediated through screens and curated identities.
Freya Xu: Your paintings are highly detailed and technically accomplished. How do you balance technical rigor with emotional expression?
Theresia Zhang: For me, technique is not an end in itself. It is a tool for building emotional intensity. That’s why I value colors. The understanding of color is the most subjective aspect of constructing a painting if I’m thinking about hard-core technical skills. I admire painters who can use technical skill to create psychological depth rather than simply demonstrate mastery. During the painting process, I am constantly moving between control and intuition. Some passages are carefully planned, while others emerge through experimentation and accident. The most interesting moments often happen when those two modes intersect.
Freya Xu: Many contemporary artists are turning toward digital technologies and artificial intelligence. What role do you think traditional painting still plays today?
Theresia Zhang: I do not see painting and technology as opposites in the way of making “images”. But painting to me, it’s a more direct vehicle to carry emotions. What painting offers is a different temporal experience. In a culture dominated by speed, painting demands sustained attention. It preserves evidence of touch, labor, and decision-making. Those qualities remain meaningful because they remind us that images are not only information—they are also physical encounters. Painting creates a space where slowness becomes valuable. The physical surface of canvas is an immersive environment for my soul, allowing me to slow down, focus, and be closer to an extent that I feel a physical touch on the brush with my characters. I can touch them with my brushes, and observe the creations with my own bare eyes, without the technological limitations that might shift the color from my heart.
Freya Xu: As someone who has lived and studied across different cultural contexts, how has migration shaped your understanding of identity?
Theresia Zhang: Migration complicated my understanding of identity in productive ways. When you move between cultures, many assumptions that once felt stable become visible. You begin to recognize identity as something fluid rather than fixed. Something you are familiar with might be special and unique to others. My work reflects that experience. I am interested in in-between spaces, moments of translation, and the ways people construct belonging while navigating multiple cultural frameworks simultaneously.
Theresia Zhang in her studio. Courtesy of the artist.