The art of Des Lucréce exists between culture, identity, and emotional states. Des is known for their iconic 'Des Monsters' series, which uses bold, symbolic figures that serve both as shields and mirrors to explore themes of belonging, desire, and cultural dislocation.
In this conversation, we discuss how Des's cross-cultural upbringing has shaped their creative voice, why monsters are at the core of their visual language, and how grief, theory, and digital storytelling are woven into their work.
With the upcoming immersive exhibition (Erosion of Time) at the Art + Light Museum, Des is expanding the world of Des Monsters - inviting the audience to engage with the collection in new ways and confront the contradictions embodied by these creatures.
OpenSea: You have described living in a 'center of no home' - a liminal space between different cultures. How has this in-between feeling shaped your identity and creative style? Are there any significant experiences in Norway or the United States that have formed this feeling?
Des Lucréce: One of my earliest memories of this feeling was during a trip to Vietnam at around age seven. Each time we walked out onto the street, people would stop and stare, and I kept hearing them whisper 'Việt kiều' - at the time, I didn't even know what that word meant. I asked my mom what it meant, and she gently told me: 'It just means they know we are not locals.'
This phrase has lingered in my mind because we are Vietnamese - by blood, language, and lineage. Yet, even in Vietnam, I still feel like a foreigner. The direct translation of 'Việt kiều' is 'overseas Vietnamese', which not only includes the literal meaning but also carries a cultural connotation that even within Vietnam, I am a foreigner.
This is just one aspect of the equation. I was born in Norway and grew up in the United States, feeling out of place in both. The kids at school reminded me every day that I was different, resulting in what I now call 'the center of no home' - a state existing between identity, culture, and expectation, which not only disorients but is deeply rooted, becoming the lens through which I view all my work.
This in-between state shapes everything: the characters I write about, the systems I critique, and the emotional contradictions I try to present in my work. My art is not meant to dissolve this tension, but to immerse in it.
Giving form to those fluid, fragmented, or too complex to categorize parts of identity is crucial for those of us who grew up on the cultural margins; this liminal space is our center - and I am trying to build a visual language around this truth.
OpenSea: Your bio and monsters have become iconic parts of your visual language. How did they first emerge?
Des Lucréce: The monsters initially emerged as a reactive defense - initially to visualize the hate I saw online directed at people like my mother during the pandemic. Over time, they evolved; they became not only symbols of others but also masks, shields, and ultimately mirrors. They serve as an exaggerated and distorted language that helps me discuss identity, fear, and otherness in both personal and collective ways.
OpenSea: Influences from figures like Jean-Michel Basquiat and Maki Haku - how do their styles or philosophies guide your creative process?
Des Lucréce: Basquiat taught me that the raw and chaotic can also be poetic, while Maki Haku showed me the power of posture and control within narrow boundaries. Their works are drastically different in form but philosophically, they both explore fractured identities and reshape language through markings.
This is precisely the philosophy I maintain throughout my creative process - to let form follow feeling, while ensuring that each line is charged with intention and tension. The traditional design training I accepted is that form obeys function, and that is precisely what I am employing in my current creative practice.
OpenSea: Many of your works explore themes such as desire, identity, and the pursuit of self-worth. What draws you to these concepts? What human conditions do you wish to reveal through them?
Des Lucréce: For me, desire is the driving force behind everything I do - especially those desires we have yet to fully understand. I first encountered Lacan's theory of 'objet petit a' in school, and it has lingered in my mind since. We are always chasing various things - success, recognition, belonging - thinking they will eventually make us whole, only to discover that the chase itself is often more real and intoxicating than the outcome.
My work does not provide answers; rather, it serves as a mirror, prompting the question: What do you truly seek? Is the value of an object inherent, or is it defined by how it is acquired? Does being burned add meaning, or does it erase it? Does collecting make the self whole, or does it merely reveal the void we have been trying to fill? These questions arise not only in the work but also linger in my heart.
A small detail: for years, my online bio has included the phrase, 'Life is the pursuit of Diet Coke™' - this directly references Žižek's interpretation of Diet Coke as a pure and unattainable desire, a tension between material and concept that runs throughout my entire creative process.
Whether constructing game-theory-driven series or reflecting on personal loss, I am interested in the emotional and economic systems we build around desire. Critical theory provides the framework for the work, but at its core lies the same question: What are we willing to sacrifice to feel whole? And what happens when that is not enough?
OpenSea: You have described your work as a silent exploration of desire and belonging. In your creative practice, do you often return to certain specific questions or themes?
Des Lucréce: The themes I keep revisiting include desire, belonging, identity, and distance. My repeated engagement with these themes is not out of habit but because I still do not fully understand them. This work serves as a silent exploration - a way to integrate grief, desire, memory, and contradiction into three dynamic frameworks. In summary, I think I have always been pondering one question: What do we become when the places we come from no longer recognize us?
OpenSea: Des Monsters was initially a response to the hate experienced by your family and community during the pandemic, but it evolved into a broader allegorical tale. Over time, how has the emotional tone of this series changed? Do you see these monsters as projections of others or reflections of yourself?
Des Lucréce: Initially, the Des Monsters series was a reaction - depicting hate, like a mugshot or wanted poster; they are raw, intense, and deeply personal. I was responding to the wave of anti-Asian sentiment I witnessed during the pandemic, particularly the anonymous slurs directed at people like my mother, who runs a nail salon in rural South. These early works aimed to give form to this ugliness, to recognize it, name it, and present it.
Yet as the series unfolded, something changed; the monsters began to soften - not visually, but emotionally. They became more symbolic, more archetypal. I realized they are not merely projections of aggressors; they also embody survivors, bystanders... ultimately, they reflect a part of myself.
The roles we play in the systems of harm and healing are not always diametrically opposed. Over time, I began to understand these monsters as reflections of the stories I have experienced and the roles I have played within them - whether willingly or not.
I did not expect my collectors to react this way; many began using their monster images as avatars, becoming a quiet yet powerful form of identity and solidarity. Some of these works have been collected by their owners since 2021, and over the years, I have established connections with the collectors and the monsters they choose.
Thus, this project became a healing cycle, where those initially confrontational images began to feel relaxing and even redemptive. It redefined my understanding of what I do.
I cannot say exactly how it has changed me, but I know my new works feel lighter. There is more air in them, perhaps the tone has softened. Not because the world is no longer hostile, but because I have spent more time learning how to master complexity without allowing it to become rigid.
Des Monsters began as a shout - but now, it feels more like an echo chamber, full of stories, contradictions, and the tranquility and ease of being seen.
OpenSea: What kind of discussions has the series sparked among viewers, especially those who feel culturally or emotionally dislocated?
Des Lucréce: The most meaningful conversations come from those who see themselves in the 'monsters' - this is evident not only aesthetically but emotionally. I have received messages from collectors who felt pushed to the margins of the community, saying that certain aspects of the 'monsters' made them feel seen.
These are not just illustrations - they are embodiments of contradiction: fear, survival, cultural tension, resilience. Some see them as projections of aggressors, while others view them as shadows of the self. Yet, I hear more and more individuals realizing they have once been monsters. That emotional dislocation - feeling like a foreigner in one's own body, in one's own country, in one's own culture - is a recurring theme.
These responses made me realize that the initial personal confrontation with hate has now developed into a shared archive. It is like a fable collection dedicated to those of us living between two worlds, needing some form to accommodate that transitional space. This resonance far exceeded my expectations, which is why I have placed it at the center of the world I am building.
OpenSea: You use digital tools to explore how technology and interconnectedness shape our self-awareness. How do you see technology shaping our image today? And how do you explore this in your art?
Des Lucréce: Technology fundamentally changes how we construct and project identity. In digital spaces, we constantly build personas - carefully curated, exaggerated, and sometimes even anonymous self-images that make us feel empowered, protected, and seen in ways that may not be attainable in real life. I find this contradiction fascinating: is anonymity a mask or a truth?
This question is at the core of (monsters): what do people become when identity is no longer bound by consequence or societal constraints? These embodiments reveal the avatars of people, tools that allow for cruelty but also allow for creativity, survival, and new forms of expression. I believe some of the most sincere words spoken come from anonymous accounts.
So, I use digital tools not only to create works but also to critically engage with these systems. The language of personal role-players (PFPs), gamified collections, and profile-based identities all influence how the monsters are shaped. They are highly personalized but designed to exist in a networked world that is fluid, commercialized, and increasingly fragmented. This work explores not only how we present ourselves online but also our authentic selves when no one is watching.
OpenSea: You navigate various complex emotions through your art, including the grief of losing your father. How has this experience impacted your creative approach? How do you create such personal work?
Des Lucréce: Losing my father changed everything for me. When I received the call, it had been nearly 18 years since I last spoke to him - he was on his deathbed in a hospital in Norway. For the first time in nearly twenty years, I saw him through FaceTime, and five days later, he passed away.
I have always fantasized that once I 'succeeded' - once I could prove to him that I had achieved something - I could reconcile with him. That dream shattered overnight, leaving only conversations we never had and milestones we never shared. This grief does not present itself proactively - it simply appears suddenly, asking if you are ready, and you are never ready.
(A New Journey) consists of (encounter) (discovery) and (night), stemming from that loss. I try to understand what success means when those you want to share it with are no longer around. This is my first work that feels more like a conversation with the past rather than a projection into the future. It does not need to be clever or marketable - it just needs to be sincere.
Since then, I began to realize that grief is not something to be resolved but something to integrate; it seeps into your creation not as a theme but as a lens. It exists in the rhythm of creation, symbolism, and the spaces left unfilled. Creating personal work does not mean over-sharing; it means respecting the content that needs to be expressed, even if just quietly.
I have also learned to give some time to those works that feel unresolved. Not all works need to be published, and not all works need to land. Some works just need to exist for me first; this is a huge shift. In public-facing art, especially in the Web3 era, the pressure to perform is always present. However, when something truly personal emerges, I first try to let it express itself before considering how it will be received.
Ultimately, I feel that grief has allowed me to slow down, not just to create but to reflect. In that space, I found a different clarity - not clarity, not a complete resolution, but sincerity. And that is where the true work lies.
OpenSea: Are there any mediums, projects, or collaborations that you have not yet explored but would be interested in in the future?
Des Lucréce: Of course, a little shameless self-promotion: I will be opening an exhibition called (The Erosion of Time) at the Museum of Art + Light (MoA+L) on September 6, 2025, marking how I view my work as an immersive experience, a collaboration, and how the monsters survive in this world.
The exhibition, presented in collaboration with Dean Mitchell, spans 3,500 square feet (approximately 330 square meters), transforming walls and floors into a multi-sensory environment where light, sound, movement, and myth converge. I worked with the MoA+L team to push digital storytelling to amplify emotional resonance and cultural memory - bridging the past across walls and imagination.
This exhibition has made me rethink the scale and impact of my work. I began to imagine monsters not only appearing on screens or canvases but being fully realized - integrated into spatial installations, merchandise, and even experiences triggered by visitors. The potential of this expansion from digital collectibles to physical existence - streetwear, posters, plush toys - feels like a naturally occurring next chapter. It challenges how art, identity, and ownership intertwine in media and markets.
Essentially, I want to break the frame (both literally and conceptually) and let the monsters - along with the issues they carry - exist in unexpected places. Through (the erosion of time), I am exploring this boundary, and I look forward to how these figures will continue to evolve alongside the systems and communities they interact with.
The exhibition will last for 9 months, so if you happen to be in Manhattan, Kansas, be sure to visit!
OpenSea: Thank you, Des!
Des Lucréce: Thank you for the wonderful conversation! I hope my monsters and everyone's reading experience are great.
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