
The Work of Our Hands: Mother Tongue
May Kytonen
May Kytonen is an interdisciplinary artist whose practice navigates memory, identity, and heritage through fibers, collage, and immersive installations.
Kaela’s parents and the congregation made promises to guide and nurture her; yet Kaela was also nurturing us.
Mother Tongue: Deluge Stories (detail), three channel video, 2023, size variable
Creating religious artwork was not my initial aim when I first began pursuing art. In fact, I had a conversation with a friend in college who asked me whether my post-graduation hopes included exclusively pursuing opportunities within the church. I paused, because at that point I had not experienced an integration of artistic pursuits and spirituality within my own life, let alone alongside a faith community. I had no concept of how art could be a part of the life of a church.
Over a decade later (and after some journeying around art and faith myself), Bethany Presbyterian Church in Seattle, Washington, approached me about commissioning a public-facing work in the community. Their aim was to invite BIPOC artists to create work reflecting their belief that “cultural, ethnic, and racial diversity, expression, and reconciliation are central to human flourishing and at the very heart of God.” Their arts team explained that the finished piece would be for an outward-facing display on the church grounds, and that it need not be religious in nature. Bethany Presbyterian had been doing this work for several years and had a wide array of previous participants, including those working in two-dimensional and three-dimensional art forms, murals, free-standing outdoor sculptures, and more.
I knew right away that this was a unique opportunity, this my first commission with a local congregation. In fact, the freedom not to make something explicitly religious gave me permission to explore religious themes through my own cultural lens.
When asked to describe my art practice, I typically start by explaining that it is an examination of Asian American identity. Working in collage, fiber, paper sculpture, and installation, I explore questions of home, heritage, and belonging. In my recent exhibition, Field of Belonging, I looked at how ancestral history and domestic space inform identity. In Azimuth and Yuán Fèn, I combined found photography, family ephemera, and Chinese cosmology to explore how cultural stories move across generations. For In the Fabric of Space & Time I used wax-resist dyed banners to trace zodiac constellations found across cultures. In Making Home, I overlaid HGTV dream home floor plans with Chinese lattice designs to reflect on the tension between cultural heritage and American ideals. I’ve continued to research traditional Chinese methods of making and their connection to contemporary identity. I find my work is an ongoing investigation in how memory, place, and inheritance shape us, and how art can hold those questions.
Mother Tongue: Deluge Stories (video still), three channel video, 2023, size variable
As part of this commission, I found myself asking new questions at the intersection of the church and my Taiwanese lineage. Several years ago in my research around language, I found a unique orthography that connected Christianity with Taiwanese. The matrilineal language of my family is Taiwanese Hokkien, which my mother and grandmother both speak fluently. Although a standardized written form of this dialect does not exist, I learned that Péh-ōe-jī, also known as Church Romanization, was developed by Presbyterian missionaries in the nineteenth century. This Latin alphabet allowing Hokkien to be written phonetically was created to help teach Taiwanese Hokkien, as well as translate the Bible, church news, and religious tracts.
Khó-sioh lín pún-kok ê jī chin oh, chió chió lâng khòan ē hiáu-tit. Só-í góan ū siat pá t-mih ê hoat-tō , ēng pé h-ōe-jī lâi ìn-chheh, hō lín chèng-lâng khòan khah khòai bat . . .
Translation: Because the characters in your country are so difficult, only a few people are literate. Therefore, we have striven to print books in Péh-ōe-jī to help you to read. . . .
(Thomas Barclay, Tâi-oân-hú-siân Kàu-hōe-pò, Issue 1)
Missionary Thomas Barclay printed the first newspaper in Taiwan in any language, the Taiwan Church News, using Péh-ōe-jī.
Since then, this orthography has fallen out of use. Yet I was curious to continue the historical dialogue between the Seattle Presbytery and the Taiwanese people. My research led me to the creation of Mother Tongue: Deluge Stories. This video installation shares three traditional Taiwanese creation myths transcribed into Péh-ōe-jī. Many cultures have flood myths, and there are several traditional flood stories passed down from the various people groups of Taiwan. These three stories depict flood imagery alongside Taiwanese Hokkien text: one from the Atayal, another from the Amis Dou-lan, and finally a flood narrative from the Pingpu Pazeh people.
Mother Tongue: Deluge Stories (detail), three channel video, 2023, size variable
As I investigated the conceptual elements of this work, several questions arose for me. What are the implications of taking another’s language and bending its shape into a form that serves a missionary drive? What would it have looked like for a written form of this language to share the stories of the local people, their traditions, their spiritual heritage, and their sacred stories? Through this installation, I was able to continue the conversation between my people and the Seattle Presbytery. For me, this work opened up space to reflect on voice, story, and power. What stories get preserved, and by whom? What does worship look like when it makes room for languages and myths considered peripheral, or even incompatible, with the dominant faith tradition?
Working with Bethany Presbyterian Church felt like a true collaboration built on a mutual desire to create space for meaningful dialogue. By inviting BIPOC artists to share work on their own terms, without the expectation of religious content, the church made room for a broader understanding of what sacred expression can look like. To me, that kind of openness, where cultural difference is embraced rather than folded into a single story, is a form of worship.
Mother Tongue: Deluge Stories (street view), three channel video, 2023, size variable
About the Artist
Drawing from her Taiwanese ancestry, May Kytonen creates work that navigates memory, cultural hybridity, and the complexities of belonging.
Kytonen earned her BA in Interdisciplinary Visual Arts from the University of Washington in 2012 and has since exhibited widely across the Pacific Northwest and beyond. Her solo exhibitions include Affinity Occasion (2023) at Lewis-Clark State College, Mother Tongue: Deluge Stories (2023) in Seattle, and Path of the Sky Dragon (2022), a public installation at the Seattle Center.
A recipient of multiple awards, including Artist Trust’s GAP Award and Seattle’s smART Ventures Mini Grant, Kytonen has been selected for public art rosters by the Seattle Office of Arts & Culture and the Washington State Arts Commission. Her work has been featured in publications like Crosscut, Daria Magazine, and The Spokesman Review. In addition to her studio practice, she has been an active member of artist collectives including SOIL and Saranac Art Projects.
Kytonen’s work continues to explore the intersections of cultural memory and contemporary identity, blending personal and collective histories through her use of materials and storytelling.
Who Is My Neighbor/Who Is My Ancestor (from Azimuth series), mixed media collage, 2020, 5 x 7 inches
In the Fabric of Space and Time, wax resist dyed canvas, 2019, approx. 12 x 25 x 5 feet
Cloud By Night (from Azimuth series), digital collage, 2021, 11 x 14 inches
Yuán Fèn, wax resist dyed canvas, 2020, 64 x 32 inches (each panel)
Generational Atlas (from Making Home Series), cotton canvas, embroidery thread, vellum, 2020, 9 x 9 inches
