All That Is Cut Away Becomes Constellations - Epilogue, 2025.
Kiln-worked recycled-bottle glass, tea, copper thread, wood, 13 × 8.5 × 1.2 inches; 15.7 × 13.8 × 5.5 inches (with copper wire).

P hotograph by Puffer Hu ©Meng Du, courtesy of Fou Gallery

All That Is Cut Away Becomes Constellations - No. 02, 2025.
Kiln-worked recycled-bottle glass, tea, copper thread, wood, 10.2 × 3.1 × 0.6 inches (top); 10.2 × 3.3 × 0.6 inches (bottom); 11.8 × 20.5 × 5.1 inches (pair as group with copper wire).

Photograph by Puffer Hu ©Meng Du, courtesy of Fou Gallery

Thorns of Light No. 01, 2025.
Glass, Mirror, Wood, Cement-Based Grout, Cement Pigment, Acrylic Paint, 20.9 × 15.9 × 2 inches.

Photograph by Puffer Hu ©Meng Du, courtesy of Fou Gallery

A Call From... No. 01, 2025.
Kiln-worked Glass, Silver Leaf, Stainless Steel Mesh, Wood, Mixed-media, Tea, 12.6 × 13.4 × 4.5 inches.

Photograph by Puffer Hu ©Meng Du, courtesy of Fou Gallery

We Are the Coming Forest No. 01, 2025.
Fabric, Glass, Metal Parts, Found Object, 145.7 × 28.3 × 1 inches.

Photograph by Puffer Hu ©Meng Du, courtesy of Fou Gallery

memory/

I studied Graphic Design during my undergraduate years at the Central Academy of Fine Arts in China. At that time, the field was becoming increasingly connected to technology. However, the more I learned, the more I found myself drawn toward craft-based and traditional practices. I was interested in making things by hand, which means more physical engagement with the materials, rather than working primarily with screens.

In 2008, during a visit to the De Young Museum in San Francisco, I encountered Dale Chihuly’s enormous glass installation. It completely shifted my understanding of glass. Until then, I had mostly perceived glass as a functional, daily object. Seeing his work made me realize how much narrative and spatial potential the material could hold. It was the moment that I realized how glass could transcend its utilitarian identity, and decided to pursue it during my graduate study.

I began researching glass programs more deeply and discovered the work of Michael Rogers and Robin Cass at Rochester Institute of Technology (RIT). What attracted me was their narrative sensibility — a balance between Western and Eastern aesthetics, material sensitivity, and poetic storytelling. It felt aligned with what I was searching for.

After entering RIT, I studied with Michael Rogers and later became an assistant to Robin Cass. The more I worked with glass, the more I felt connected to it. I am especially drawn to its semi-transparent state. You feel you can see through it, but never fully. It carries ambiguity. When heated, it becomes soft like honey, responsive and malleable. When solid, it is not always transparent; it can resemble jade, stone, even metal. It has multiple states of being. In many ways, I found myself reflected in these characteristics.

In 2016, shortly after graduating, I held my first solo exhibition at Fou Gallery. At that time, I was still mentally attached to the academic environment and uncertain about my future path. That exhibition became a turning point. The audience’s feedback exceeded my expectations. I felt that my work was genuinely understood and appreciated. That exhibition became a turning point and encouraged me to commit to being a professional artist.

Forked Pathway (Clockwise), 2025.
Kiln-worked Glass, 10.6 × 7.1 × 4.9 inches.

Photograph by Puffer Hu ©Meng Du, courtesy of Fou Gallery

To Leave, To Arrive – The Start, 2025.
Kiln-formed Glass, Copper, Tea, Mixed media, Metal Parts, 16.1 × 8.7 × 2 inches; 16.1 × 9.4 × 2 inches with hanging glass piece.

Photograph by Puffer Hu ©Meng Du, courtesy of Fou Gallery

Forked Pathway (Clockwise), 2025.
Kiln-worked Glass, 10.6 × 7.1 × 4.9 inches.

Photograph by Puffer Hu ©Meng Du, courtesy of Fou Gallery

line/

My work is closely related to the environment I am living in. During the pandemic, I began cultivating my own garden, and plants gradually became a steady emotional anchor for me. Watching them grow, witnessing new life constantly emerging brought me a sense of peace and stability. Gardening became a quiet way to release emotion. It is a state of being that I want to translate into my work and share with others.

The idea of developing a body of work related to my garden had been in my mind for some time. However, I was waiting for the right conceptual entry point. This year, I finally encountered the inspiration that allowed the series to unfold naturally, which eventually led to my solo exhibition In the Wood, Might Be Late at Fou Gallery.

Gardening also expanded my research process. I began visiting botanical gardens more regularly. At first, it was practical. I would compare the growth of species there with those in my own garden. If the same plant was blooming in the botanical garden but not in mine, I knew something was wrong. Over time, these visits became conceptual research. Observing how plants fill space, how their colors shift across seasons, and how they relate spatially to one another helps me imagine both my garden and my compositions more clearly.

If I have never grown a plant myself, I cannot fully imagine its presence in my garden. I need to see how tall it grows, how it spreads, how it changes through time. This close observation directly influences my artistic thinking.

For instance, the new mosaic series reflects my experience of the garden in spring. Spring colors are fluid and constantly shifting. New tones appear unexpectedly. I used a wider range of glass colors to capture that sense of movement and emergence, creating the feeling that colors are continuously appearing from within the composition, echoing the way spring unfolds.

Burning Branches Light the Way No. 02, 2025.
Glass, Mirror, Wood, Cement-Based Grout, Cement Pigment, Acrylic Paint, 12 × 10.4 × 2 inches.

Photograph by Puffer Hu ©Meng Du, courtesy of Fou Gallery

Meng Du: In the woods, might be late installation view, 2025.

Photography by Ken Lee, courtesy of Fou Gallery

color/

I appreciate randomness in the process of making. Many glass artists pursue the precise execution of a pre-determined sketch, aiming to reproduce exactly what was imagined. While I respect that discipline, I am more interested in allowing unexpected events to shape the work. For me, material is not something to fully control, but something to engage with and respond to.

This perspective developed over time. When I first worked in the hot shop, I became aware of how the heat, the weight of the material, and the urgency of timing could amplify tension. Because hot glass requires collaboration, you share responsibility for a form as it takes shape, which can be stressful at times. Later, I encountered a different attitude—one that emphasized respecting the will of the material. Instead of forcing the glass to follow a fixed plan, artists paid close attention to how it wanted to move, allowing gravity, heat, and time to participate in shaping the outcome. This experience transformed my thinking. I learned to loosen control and to understand unpredictability not as failure, but as possibility. Now I deeply value this collaborative relationship—not only with others in the studio, but with the material itself.

This mindset naturally extends to my approach to color. In my recent exhibition, green became a dominant tone, but it was not predetermined. As I developed different groups of works—particularly the recycled glass pieces—a red-green spectrum began to emerge organically. Recognizing this, I echoed similar tones in the textile elements to create cohesion across the exhibition. In this way, color became a spatial and compositional decision rather than a fixed starting point.

My treatment of surface further reflects this understanding. In the cast works, I developed a technique of tea staining. It began accidentally, when spilled tea stained some porous test pieces. I later transformed this into a deliberate, time-based process—soaking, brushing, and drying repeatedly over weeks. The color gradually deepens and softens, introducing time as an active layer within the work. The piece is not finished when it leaves the mold; it needs time to settle and mature.

For me, color is not simply pigment. It is shaped by process, by material behavior, and by time. It is the visible trace of transformation—the way the material breathes within space.

When Dawn Embraces the Flame No. 01, 2025.
Glass, Mirror, Wood, Cement-Based Grout, Cement Pigment, Acrylic Paint, 8.1 × 13.4 × 2.4 inches.

Photograph by Puffer Hu ©Meng Du, courtesy of Fou Gallery

Meng Du: In the woods, might be late installation view, 2025.

Photography by Ken Lee, courtesy of Fou Gallery

Written by Zhiheng Ashely Zhang

Zhiheng Ashely Zhang is a curator and writer based in New York.

Published March 22, 2026.

Photo credit: Liang Mu

Meng Du

Meng Du (b. 1986) is an artist based in Beijing. She received a B.F.A. in Graphic Design from the Central Academy of Fine Arts, Beijing, and an M.F.A. in Glass and Glass Sculpture from Rochester Institute of Technology.

Her work has been exhibited at the Victoria and Albert Museum, London (2025); Shanghai Museum of Glass, Shanghai (2023, 2018); Genesis Foundation, Beijing (2022); Today Art Museum, Beijing (2021); The Delaware Contemporary, U.S.A. (2020); Fou Gallery, New York (2025, 2022, 2019, 2016); and The International Exhibition of Glass Kanazawa at Shiinoki Cultural Complex, Ishikawa, Japan (2016). She has participated in residencies at Seto International Ceramic & Glass Art Exchange Program, Seto, Japan (2021) and Aichi University of Education Glass Program, Aichi, Japan (2017). Du is the recipient of the Saxe Emerging Artist Award at the 48th Glass Art Society Conference (2018) and Honorable Mention at The International Exhibition of Glass Kanazawa (2016). Her work is included in the permanent collections of the Victoria and Albert Museum, London; Shanghai Museum of Glass; Corning Glass Works, Shanghai; Burberry, Shanghai; and Zhuzhong Collection, Beijing.