How Jiang Qiong Er Transforms Chinese Art Into Contemporary Design

Shanghai-born artist and designer Jiang Qiong Er has dedicated her life’s work to blending ancient Chinese craftsmanship with contemporary design. Trained in painting by two of China’s most celebrated art masters, she has created a multifaceted body of work spanning art, graphic design, interiors, furniture, and jewelry.

Her work has also been showcased around the world and is featured in collections like the British Museum and the Musée des Arts Décoratifs. In 2009, Jiang co-founded the luxury brand Shang Xia with Hermès where she served as creative director and CEO before stepping back in 2021 to focus on personal projects.

Her latest project, a home furnishings collection with Roche Bobois titled Bamboo Mood, brings a new perspective to her heritage. The collection is designed to be simple yet expressive, encouraging people to connect with its colors, shapes, and “musicality,” even without a deep familiarity with Chinese traditions.

You began your career as a painter. Could you tell me a bit about how you got your start?

Jiang Qiong Er: I’m an artist and a designer, and I feel like I’ve always had this duality in my blood. One inspires the other. Art for me is a very subjective form of creation—it’s deeply personal. It’s about expressing your individual emotions, observations, and feelings. Design on the other hand is more of a dialogue between creativity and daily life. I think they complement each other. Art brings emotional value to design, and design offers a technical and practical framework to art.

I grew up in a family where this duality was always present. My grandfather was a very famous artist in China. Over 100 years ago he pioneered the blending of Eastern and Western art, which was groundbreaking at the time—especially without today’s communication tools like the internet. My father is also an architect in China. He designed the Shanghai Museum in People’s Square and worked on many significant projects like The Bund in Shanghai. I was born into this environment where both art and design were deeply valued.

I started painting at the age of two and have continued ever since. Even now while working on collections for Roche Bobois, I’m also creating art installations and exhibitions. I feel I have a powerful source of inspiration and energy because each discipline enhances the other.

I pursued my university studies in China and later earned my master’s degree in Paris. After that, I lived between France and China. In 2009, I co-launched Shang Xia. The goal was to revive Chinese craftsmanship through contemporary creations. It was like creating a living, breathing entity—a baby, in a way. After 12 years, I realized it was time to hand over the business side to others because I’m an artist, not a businesswoman. That allowed me to return to Paris and focus fully on my creative work.

Now I’m able to dedicate myself to projects like light installations at the Lyon Light Festival, exhibitions at the National Museum in Montluçon, and collaborations with the Comité Colbert for French luxury. It’s been a transformative period for me, letting me organize my life around pure creation.

You studied under very famous artists. How did their teachings shape your understanding of art?

My brother and I studied under two of the most famous Chinese masters. One was a master of ink and brush painting, Mr. Cheng Shi Fa, and the other was Mr. Han Tian Heng, a calligraphy master. These were the foundations of traditional art for us. My brother and I practiced almost every day and would meet with the masters weekly. They would analyze our work, give feedback, and explain techniques.

Looking back now, I realize that these masters weren’t just teaching us technique—they were also teaching us the philosophy of being a great artist. At the time we were too young to fully understand these lessons. Now I see how much those lessons have shaped us. They shared stories about the spiritual side of being an artist, about values, and about how to be great.

The most important lessons they passed on were humility and generosity. Humility is essential for an artist, as is a continuous drive to create and push beyond your limits. The second lesson was generosity—being generous with yourself, with others, with life, and with your art. And being brave. These qualities have kept my brother and I going until today.

When we were young, we were very famous—my brother was winning awards when he was just six years old! We were selected for painting competitions and exhibitions. We even won gold medals in international competitions in Japan and the United States. It was very rare at that time. In the 1980s China was not as open as it is today, and there was no globalization.

My first solo exhibition happened when I was six and my brother was eight, in Beijing.

It’s incredible that you both achieved so much so young! Did you develop a love for the practice on your own, or was it shaped by your family’s influence?

I was born into it. I didn’t choose to be an artist—it was just part of who I am. I was born for this.

We were fortunate to be recognized at a young age, and that gave us the opportunity to study under such famous masters. We also had the chance to travel and see the world. We always wanted to visit places like The Silk Road and Dunhuang in China. It was a long and expensive trip, but we were sponsored by an art education foundation from Hong Kong because of our fame. That support helped us open our minds and discover the world. We were very lucky.

My parents were also very supportive. After university I was supposed to go to the United States. I had passed my TOEFL, been accepted by the ArtCenter College of Design, and had a scholarship—everything was set. But after traveling in France and Italy I was deeply moved by the art I experienced. I felt a strong connection to it and wanted to continue my studies in France, even though I didn’t speak a word of French and had no school waiting for me.

In my university in China I studied Le Corbusier’s architecture. We learned about his work, retraced his plans, made models, and studied his designs. Later during a trip to France I visited the actual church he designed. When I sat inside, I wasn’t a Christian or Catholic, but I cried. I remember that moment clearly. 

What were you feeling inside the church? What emotions came over you?

It wasn’t sadness or happiness—I was emotionally touched by the power of the architecture. It transcended language, religion, and time. It was just so strong. In that moment I realized how much richer your experience would be if you could speak the language, read the books, listen to the music, and talk to people in their language. It would open up a whole new world of inspiration.

It was a deep sense of the energy and power of the space. You don’t feel sad or happy; you just feel touched, overwhelmed by the experience. It’s hard to describe, but it was an incredibly emotional moment.

That was the moment I felt called to come to France.

My mother didn’t fully understand my decision to move, but she trusted me. She only asked that I think about it carefully and make a serious decision. She didn’t want me to later regret it and change my mind. After thinking about it for two weeks I told her I wanted to go to France, and she supported me. 

I think that kind of trust from my parents is essential. Sometimes our dreams and passions might seem crazy, but it’s so important to have people who believe in you even when others might discourage you. 

My first degree in China was in art and design. In France my master’s was focused on space and furniture design. But I’d been studying art since the age of six, and I had already spent 12 years learning traditional art. So when it came time to choose a university I could have easily chosen fine art, but I told myself that art doesn’t necessarily require a diploma—it’s about touching people’s hearts.

I felt that what I’d learned over those 12 years was valuable, but I also wanted something that would give me more tools for expression. Art and design seemed to offer a broader range of tools. That’s why I chose art and design—it gave me more ways to express my ideas.

Do you still paint often now? When did your paintings start getting international recognition? 

Yes, I still paint. I have a painting workshop in both France and China. I also do sculptures. I think it’s essential to keep your hands active—holding the brush, working with the materials, mixing the pigments. It’s all very important for the creative process.

My work started gaining international attention around 2000 and continued through 2008 and 2010. Before Shang Xia I had exhibitions in Shanghai, Switzerland, Paris, and the United States in various museums and galleries. Once I started gaining recognition I began exploring different formats for my creations. And I kept painting—it’s the best way to free your mind.

If I look back, something I’d say to my younger self—and what I’m most grateful for—are two secrets I’ve learned: humility and generosity. These are the most important qualities for an artist or a creative. Always remember where you come from. 

Remember the vastness of the sky and the earth, and how small we are in comparison. This perspective will give you endless energy and inspiration. It’s not just about saying these words—humility and generosity should be lived and acted upon. If you can do that, life as an artist becomes truly beautiful.

How did your brand Shang Xia come to be?

I don’t really consider it a brand; I see it more as a mission. The goal is to take heritage from the past and connect it with the future. This is a mission I feel strongly about. Shang Xia represents a connection between history and the future, the past and the present, technology and tradition. It’s about two opposites: sky and earth. The philosophy behind this project is to harness the power of these contrasts: past and future, craftsmanship and high technology, tradition and contemporary creation.

The mission is to use this platform to reevaluate and reinvent tradition, transforming craftsmanship into contemporary expressions. That way traditions can continue and be passed down to future generations. 

My role in this project is that of the creator. I’m the one who gives the core values, style, and DNA to Shang Xia, passing it on for others to continue. I passed it on two years ago and it continues to grow.

You have a new collection called Bamboo Mood in collaboration with Roche Bobois. How did this collection come to be?

This is my first collaboration with Roche Bobois. I’ve known the brand and the team for many years, and we’ve been thinking about working together for about three years. But as you know, creating something like this takes time. The opportunity finally arrived and I’m really happy that this is the first time they’ve invited an Asian artist to create a complete collection with them. It’s great timing as we’re celebrating 20 years of Roche Bobois in China and the 60th anniversary of diplomatic relations between China and France.

I’ve always appreciated Roche Bobois for its embrace of diversity whether through different cultures, designers, or artists. My experience working with them has proven that once again. Their strength lies in the inclusion and diversity of cultures.

What I want to bring with this collection is really an invitation—an invitation to experience Chinese and Asian lifestyles. The style of the flowers is minimalistic and you can have small touches like a single branch or fish. It’s not just about shapes or forms. It’s about life inspiration, a life aesthetic.

As a Chinese artist I didn’t want my collection to be heavy or imposing. It’s more an invitation to experience our culture in a light and accessible way. Even if someone doesn’t understand the symbolism of bamboo or the depth of Chinese culture, that’s OK. If they enjoy the color, the shape, and the serenity it brings, that’s enough. It’s meant to be pure and simple.

It seems like you had a lot of creative freedom going into this project. Is that right?

Yes. In fact, they gave me nearly complete creative freedom. They didn’t impose any specific directions on me. They just provided me with some key functional information about canopy designs, tea tables, and other pieces—but for inspiration, I was given total freedom. 

Nature has always been a significant source of inspiration for me. I believe nature provides an endless source of energy, and it has always played a central role in my creations. No matter where I am I always plant bamboo. It’s one of my favorite plants because bamboo symbolizes resilience. It has a spirit of perseverance. When faced with strong winds, it bends but doesn’t break. It just leans and then comes back upright. 

The shadow of bamboo is poetry in motion.

For this collection, I wanted to use bamboo as my primary inspiration, but I didn’t want to it bamboo as a material or in its visual form. I aimed to capture the essence, the melody, the rhythm of bamboo, and reinterpret it through the collection. If you’ve seen photos or actual pieces of the collection, you can see how it reflects different melodies, rhythms, and musicality.

The first element is the screen and the table which have a regular, intense rhythm, representing a dense bamboo forest. The second element is the tea table, which feels like bamboo emerging from the earth—a deep bass sound, like “boom, boom.” The third piece is the sofa where the top curves like a bamboo branch gently bending under the wind. In music, this would be like the long echo of a bell. The last element is the carpet inspired by one of my paintings, depicting bamboo leaves dancing freely through the forest. This is the “freestyle dance” of bamboo.

Altogether this collection is not about bamboo itself, but about the melody and poetic essence that bamboo represents in nature—its movement, its resilience, and its life force.

roche-bobois.com, jiangqionger.com