Steven Yu, an immigrant who embarked on the American adventure at the tender age of 8, later returned to Asia for professional pursuits, maintaining the perpetual identity of an immigrant. Unlike many whose roots are firmly planted in a single zip code, his story unfolds across more than 15 cities and spans five countries.
Navigating through relocations and transient homes wasn't always a walk in the park for Steven. Seeking solace in the mythological stories of childhood, he seamlessly blended them with narratives that resonated with the twists and turns of a unique journey. Iconic figures such as Guan Yu, Orpheus, Batman, and Gabriel have not only captured Steven's imagination but have also left an indelible mark on his creative spirit.
Amidst the constant flux, Steven has found a way to establish roots—a metaphorical grounding reminiscent of mycelium, expanding almost supernaturally beneath the surface. This dynamic interplay between the personal and the mythical informs and shapes his artistic expression,
creating a narrative that mirrors the profound impact of a nomadic journey.
creating a narrative that mirrors the profound impact of a nomadic journey.
Below is a sample of "Koi".
This painting was inspired by the lines and shapes of Japanese Koi watercolors, as well as the strong figurative forms of European masters. The story is based off his relationship to his Chinese surname.
The soundtrack that is paired is of Brazilian influence. With all three combined, welcome to Mythologies. Please play the music file and scroll down.
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Koi - Oil on Wood
What's in a name? Mine sounds like a fish. As I have always pictured it swimming in between my thoughts, it reflects the light of memories and pushes the dreams along with its tail. Swimming through the silver waters of thoughts, I imagine myself fading in and out of the currents that spiral around its belly.
Feeling the refracted light as it touches my scales, I smile...
Feeling the refracted light as it touches my scales, I smile...
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Water Horse - Oil on Wood
Jumping into the vastness of cobalt and indigo, a sense of fear and happiness surges through me. The stones feel strong underneath my feet while the air punches through my nose. Teasing me to move, challenging me to fly...
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Orpheus - Oil on Paper
Holding light and grabbing at the aether.
Speaking in tongues and gasping for air.
Its all within and all around you.
Look too far ahead and you lose your place.
Your place is here, where it's always been.
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Breath - Oil on Paper
As I drew my morning breath, the air flinched.
Following the stillness. Exhaling my thoughts.
I can see the people all just walking in one direction.
Away from smoke.
Where are you going? Where are we headed?
The answers seem too far to reach.
I walk towards the smoke...
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Prometheus I - Oil on Wood
Knowing doesn't answer the question.
Pounding on the page trying to get the ideas out.
Angry. Fearing.
Keep my head down and go.
I need to go and put it down.
I don't know where it will end.
Scraping and digging at the canvas to find these images that I can't describe.
Scraping and digging at the canvas to find these images that I can't describe.
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Prometheus II - Oil on Wood
As the dust settles, I let it pass over me like water over stone.
It is not something easy to get used to.
Taking one moment at a time.
It's right now, it's right now I tell myself.
As I close and see with my mind's eye,
I see now and forever, are all the same.
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Audrey & Amelyne - Oil on Wood
She sleeps for both of them now. Shoulders moving up and down I can almost hear our daughter laughing with us. Her eyes are closed, as if to dream
of what is to come. I can almost touch our newborn's hands.
of what is to come. I can almost touch our newborn's hands.
As I hold them, glowing in the warm amber sun, we live in life and dream.
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Broome & Broadway - Oil on Wood
It's 2 in the morning and the sky is calm and clear. The streets feel more like my home than my actual apartment, and I like it this way. All I have in my rented room is a blowup mattress and a broken TV. Out here, the empty streets are filled with stories. As I turn the corner from Broome towards Broadway...
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Untitled - Oil on paper
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Icarus - Oil on Paper
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Untiteld - Oil on Paper
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In Progress...
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The Ansonia - Oil on Wood
As I sit here and wait for her, my mind often wanders off as I stare at the Ansonia. Looking at its soft curves tracing the wondrously strange perimeter
of this building, a buzz starts in my ears. At first, I am sure
it is nothing but on the fifth day, the buzz becomes a voice.
of this building, a buzz starts in my ears. At first, I am sure
it is nothing but on the fifth day, the buzz becomes a voice.
"Now ask the real questions you have for me."
The Ansonia challenges...
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Mr. Bell - Oil on Wood
He's trapped in the tower playing his music over and over again. Until his fingers bled. Until his teeth hurt. "Why can't I stop?" He asked himself. "Is this a curse or a blessing the day we shook upon it?" Never did he think that going into this agreement would have turned out this way.
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Lion Dance - Oil on Paper
Stretching his fingers and toes as if they are connected to their own power source. With every new movement of his body, it feels like he is trying on new body parts. Finally, he tilts his head down to complete the transformation. It's the new year. He is ready.
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Untitled - Oil on Paper
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A Son's Promise - Oil on Wood
As they gallop, the fierce wind rips through their manes and blasts across their skin. Hearing the roar of the hooves, I reach out my arms to ride the team
across the sky. As powerful as the waves in Waimea, yet we never break.
Just the continued sensation of rush, speed and light.
across the sky. As powerful as the waves in Waimea, yet we never break.
Just the continued sensation of rush, speed and light.
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Shiva - Oil on Wood
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The Woolworth - Oil on Wood
The day has finally arrived. The building has been standing patiently day after day, year after year, for the seal to open. As the first morning sun falls on its eastern facade, its Gothic columns flexed and torqued. As it slowly emerges out of its former shell of concrete and steel, the morning commuters
who have walked the same path daily without even a second glance,
paused for the first time. Looking up, feeling its presence.
who have walked the same path daily without even a second glance,
paused for the first time. Looking up, feeling its presence.
Something was different...
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Untitled - Oil on Paper
