A personal account of the international artist-in-residence and ceramics research centre (EKWC) by Phoebe Zoe Ho.
Each year, master’s students from DAE with an interest in ceramics are invited to apply for a fully funded residency at EKWC. Two students are then selected to spend their graduating semester at this renowned centre.
Rather than a formal report, the DAE editorial team invited Phoebe Zoe Ho to share her personal experience. Enjoy her story below:
My collaboration with EKWC was an incredible experience — not only in terms of what I was able to technically achieve for my graduation project, but also because of the rich, supportive culture the centre fosters as an artist-in-residence institution.
Prior to the residency, I had little background with ceramics, but the EKWC is known for taking in artists with little to no background in ceramics and are equipped with a dedicated team of technicians. While these technicians are maestros in the field, they were not strict in enforcing a singular approach to ceramics and encouraged experimentation. Their extensive facilities included a glaze room where you make your own glazes from scratch, as well as some of the largest kilns in the Netherlands. During my time there, I was able to get acquainted with as many aspects of ceramic making as I desired, and even then, it was not possible to try them all.
Beyond the technical aspect, it was the culture and community that left a strong impact on me. At any given moment, there are 16 artists in residence, each for a three-month period — a constant flow of people arriving and departing. This creates a transitory, dynamic atmosphere where you live and work alongside independently practising artists of all ages — some even in their 70s. At the EKWC, artists have their own studios in a common working hall, and each night a different artist will cook dinner for everyone on residence. During my time there, I had the chance to meet inspiring artists/designers like Xavier Toubes (one of the founders of EKWC), Hella Jongerius, and Marien Schouten who were also on residence at the time. It was humbling and deeply motivating to witness their processes up close and get to know them personally.
While at EKWC, I sculpted my own interpretation of the Lucky Cat, as a response to the pressures of living in a heavily capitalistic and materialistic world. The Lucky Cat has become a globally recognised icon that is often seen in Chinese restaurants and businesses. Believed to bring good fortune, these cats are often gilded in gold and embellished with jewels and coins. However, the Lucky Cat, first known as Maneki Neko, was originally a spiritual symbol of good fortune from Japanese temples and had little to do with jewels and money.
I have always found Lucky Cats to be gaudy, absurd and unappealing. The mass production, commodification and commercialisation of the Lucky Cats reflect the shift in what society values today - and I believe it is for the worse. Increasingly, the idea of a good life is has become synonymous with what it looks like, rather than what it actually feels like. So many of us become sucked into a chase for the dollar and materialistic gain at the expense of our wellbeing. I wanted my rendition of Lucky Cats to reflect this reality and sculpted a litter of Sad Cats whose opulence of riches cause them hurt rather than joy - Coins pierce their bodies, jewels bleed into their fur, and their eyes are blinded by gold.
Clay has a memory. Every imprint - emotionally and intellectually charged - is captured. As methodology, I sculpted 25 cats within a limited span of time and sought an expression that was naive/unrefined. Much like the relentlessness of mass production, I embodied this repetitive process and churned out cats swiftly and aggressively. As I did so, creases, bumps, 'mistakes' were inevitable, and I intentionally resisted the urge to edit them away as they captured the effect of being put under stress. Unlike commercial mass production that tolerates little margin of error/deviation, my litter of handcrafted ceramic cats are a crew of messy and grotesque 'factory defects'.
Meeting artists from a broad range of backgrounds opened up my eyes, helped me feel like my network and community expanded beyond DAE. As a non-EU artist, it was especially meaningful to feel welcomed into a wider creative community beyond Design Academy Eindhoven. EKWC is a competitive residency to get into, and I feel incredibly fortunate that the school offered us this opportunity to apply — especially since the program is normally self-funded or grant-based. As a young artist at the start of my journey, EKWC was my first residency experience, and it’s left me with a strong desire to seek out more opportunities like it in the future.
Sincerely,
Phoebe Zoe Ho (Contextual Design MA)
If you would like to follow Phoebe’s next steps and follow her journey her instagram is @itsphorreal. Also remeber to check her out at DAE Gradshow 2025!
