Spylxn

Hi Arnau, Thanks for having me. Right now, I’m obsessed with my 3D printer that reminds me of a replicator from Star Trek. It’s not exactly instant gratification like that, but I’m perfectly content to print my designs in the studio while blasting ML Buch on repeat. I don’t watch TV anymore, so everything my younger self used to watch stays my favorite: Battlestar Galactica, Legend of the Seeker, Star Trek DS9, Voyager, Next Gen. I love sci-fi and medieval magic fantasy.

I was actually born in the States but my earliest years took place in Seoul. So I’m a US citizen, but I had the experience of immigrating culturally and linguistically because I couldn’t speak English when I came to NY. My family moved around but we always resided in Korean enclaves in the Tristate area. My parents wanted us to keep a connection to our heritage but we didn’t return often so I could only feel so connected.
The Asian American identity is paradoxical because American thinking is so starkly different from the thinking in Asia. It’s individualism vs collectivism, youth obsession vs filial piety, transcendence vs immanence. It can be alienating and sometimes confusing to not belong wholly in any which place. Eventually it just becomes a part of you. That ambiguity becomes more comfortable once you embrace it. This liminal status has influenced my work a lot and I feel compelled to create for others who feel the same.

I studied Illustration at the Maryland Institute College of Art but I had a variety of interests in many artistic disciplines. I grew up watching sci-fi and fantasy movies and was always obsessing over smaller prop details. This led me to work in the film industry building sets and props, but later realised I’d be more fulfilled zeroing my focus in on the objects. My performance art would incorporate functional props that I’d built, which were central to the work as storytelling elements. I wanted to build a world, but kept seeing that the frame was too wide.
Jewellery was a consistent hobby I’d kept since college and for years, I’d been adding to my home studio with new tools. No initial interest in wearing jewellery, it was just something I enjoyed creating. But one day I realised that there was power in the semiotics of jewellery, and suddenly it took on a complexity of meaning far beyond an aesthetic. Understanding its permanence and the significance we apply to our jewellery felt special, and that’s when I was able to fully commit to the artistic discipline.

I’ve always been interested in bodies. Whether through illustration, performance art, or jewellery, the body has always been a main source of inspiration. While designing, I think of each piece as its own little creature that is interacting with the body through different actions like hugging, cupping, hanging or resting on. It’s a temporary shedding of anthropocentrism in favour of an object-oriented mindset.
I got my start with bespoke jewellery, so a lot of my work is created with the contours of the body in mind. I like to think that jewellery, because of its relation to the body, is inherently performative. For me, the jewellery is wearing the body just as much as the body is wearing the jewellery. The interaction between the body and the object, the gestures that are created, the restraint that the jewellery can create, are all a part of the performance.

Chemistry was my favourite subject in high school and the jeweler’s process can sometimes look like a science experiment. Using symmetry and architectural details, my work has mathematical elements which come through in the naming of the Vertex collection — an ode to geometry and the Venn diagram. I draw inspiration from math and technology, but also religion and politics. To give a few examples: the Transfusion series is identified by the liquid drop motif. Transfusion means the act of moving between one body to the next, which can be as sterile as medicine or erotic depending on who’s asking.
The name Aegis was chosen since this earring shape relies on the anatomy for support, which can be taken literally, but support can also mean protection given by a larger institution or state — something I particularly longed for. The Aegis Chain arrays equal, unified shapes relying on each other for support —  a conceptual resolution to the lack of support felt from larger institutions.
A Furnace is a machine used in the metal casting process and it's employed in a lot of my work. The word also appears in many spiritual contexts: ie: the furnace used to refine metal — a metaphor for spiritual growth and the fiery furnace which burns sinners in judgement. My jewellery holds a lot of visual tension, so these names, with their loaded references, connect to the contextual relationship between the object and the body. I’m drawn to exploring multiple meanings maybe because there’s complexity in one’s existence and nuance just feels more honest.

This campaign was conceptualised after the untimely loss of my father. I wanted to evoke this visceral feeling of searching for redemption from a higher power while navigating a blighted environment. Kellian Delice helped to flesh out this world and its characters as creative director. At the time, I found solace in the meditative slow process of creating jewellery and wanted to cement these objects as symbols of worship while merging it all with the extraterrestrial aesthetic of the brand.
Delice proposed we play with scale, and to do this we had to execute two photoshoots. The first was shot by photographer, Jeton Bakalli. Our muses: Jeannie Jay Park, Emily Allan, and Francesca Facciola were styled by Sharifa Morris. We also brought back makeup artist, JT Tagliaferri, who worked on our last campaign. This campaign was really a team effort and there was so much incredible artistry brought in by each collaborator.
Separately, we shot just the jewellery at macroscale in a separate studio that specialises in jewellery photography in Midtown Manhattan. The pieces are magnified larger than life onto an AI background, adding to the surreal nature of the images.

We were definitely influenced by the work of Odd Nerdrum, Rene Laloux, and Salvador Dalí to create this world that’s quietly unsettling. I think of it like a tight rope that’s holding still but it could snap at any moment — the calm before the storm.

Sadly, no heirlooms from the past, but I’ve made several that are getting closer to being antique every day. Since I’m the first jeweler in the family, I see it as my duty. Of the many original pieces gifted to my mom, my favourite is an 18kt gold hand-carved cross pendant, a wizard/pope figure with bell sleeves, roses as hands and a black diamond for a face. I try to lean more traditional when it’s for my mom, but I really can’t help adding my contemporary flair.

All of Spylxn’s pieces are created in the Diamond District, in small editions, by independent artisans. Typically they’re cast in recycled sterling silver or 14kt gold. Most of the production process is led by myself with some steps outsourced such as casting, stone setting, polishing, plating, and laser welding. My relationship with my subcontractors is the essence of the brand.
I share a studio with four other jewelers who have been in the industry for decades and they’ve been a great resource for knowledge and specialised labour. In the diamond district, each craftsman has their own unique specialty, so I have a person for everything. I will work with one out of five different stone setters depending on the job.

My brand was founded on providing a bespoke jewellery service, and that’s still a large portion of my revenue. Many of my clients become repeat customers because they recognise the sincerity in my craft. I’m not opposed to manufacturing, but there are limitations with it that I don’t want to compromise on at the moment. Small editions allow me the freedom to offer an expanded collection without limiting the number of variations like stone selection or sizing.  I believe that growth should be organic and I’m more interested in it as a side effect of staying true rather than being in direct competition with my values.

I spend the majority of waking hours at work including weekends. It’s not for everyone but you make it work by insisting it will, and there’s probably a bit of delusion there. It helps that I like what I do. New York is really expensive but I think it pays dividends in that things are just more accessible, including your own business. I’m sure I’m able to access more clientele because my studio is located centrally in Manhattan. The Diamond district here is the largest jewellery district in the world. Having this resource at your fingertips, as a jeweler, is major. It wasn’t until I tried to work out of other cities that I appreciated how useful it was to be here.

I love working with artists. The process always feels really fluid. In my experience, artists have a strong sense of who they are and, visually, what they’d like to convey but the parameters are loosely held. I’d much rather have a client ask me to translate a poem into a work of jewellery than present some drawing of exactly what they would like. The artistic exchange feels like holding a mirror up as I try my best to channel the essence of a person into the jewellery I create for them. There is a mutual respect in seeing and trusting one another and it’s really special.

I think I’ve made at least a hundred grillz in the last few years. It’s a dream to be able to make anything that resonates with people and that you know is going to be cherished for a long time. Engagement rings are some of my favourite types of commissions right now because I love love and there’s so much significance imbued. And of course, also because they’re usually connected to a grand performance of some kind (the proposal), which is tea for later.
A bigger dream would be to partner with a healthcare manufacturer to customise functional patient gear and prosthetics but make it beautiful. It would have to be widely accessible and not just a one off. Another dream job would be to make the Piscatory ring for the first Asian pope!