Jewellery with an architectural point of view.
There is an architectural sensibility running through Kevin Hailiang Yu’s work, but not in the way one might immediately expect. Rather than feeling rigid or overly constructed, his jewellery explores form, material and the relationship between an object and the person who chooses to wear it. It is an approach that gives Kevin Thorne a distinctive place within contemporary jewellery, sitting comfortably at the intersection of adornment, fashion and design.
Kevin grew up in China before moving to New Zealand to study architecture. After completing his Master’s degree and spending four years working within the architectural design industry, he stepped away to develop a creative language of his own. Jewellery became his primary medium, and for the past eight years he has continued to explore it alongside furniture, objects and artworks.
That broader design practice feels particularly relevant to his jewellery. His architectural training continues to inform the way he considers structure, materials and form, while his expansion into other disciplines suggests a designer interested not simply in making pieces to wear, but in exploring ideas through objects at different scales.
Having previously operated showrooms within The Shelter in Ponsonby and Nobody’s in Auckland’s CBD, Kevin’s studio is now based at 24 St Benedicts Street in Eden Terrace, Auckland. His work is currently available through a small selection of New Zealand stockists, including Public Record, The Arts House Trust and Collecte.
For Together Journal, it is the fashion perspective within Kevin Thorne that feels especially compelling. Jewellery can transform how an outfit is read, becoming an expression of personality rather than simply a finishing detail. It opens an interesting conversation around what we choose to wear for the moments that matter, from celebrations and ceremonies to everything surrounding them.
You trained in architecture and worked in the industry for four years before deciding to step away and develop your own design voice. What was happening creatively at that point that made you realise you needed to pursue something of your own, and why did jewellery become the medium through which you wanted to explore it?
I turned 30 that year, and stepping into a new decade made me pause and ask myself: what do I want to be doing for the next ten years?
I’ve always loved architecture, and I still do. But I realised that architectural projects take a long time, and architecture is rarely a one-person job. A lot of the work is about communicating and coordinating with others, rather than creating with your own hands. I have a lot of respect for the profession and for the great architects who mentored me, but I started to feel that my own way of being an “architect” might be somewhere else.
What I loved about jewellery was the direct connection between designing and making. You have an idea, and then you build it yourself. That was exactly what I was looking for.
Jewellery was also something I could begin without a huge investment. I only needed a few basic tools, so I started making pieces in my garage. That’s where it all began. Since then, jewellery has taught me so much about developing my own design language.
Architecture still informs the way you think about form, structure and materials. When you are developing a piece of jewellery, where do those architectural instincts reveal themselves, and where do you consciously allow yourself to move away from them?
Architecture has always been much more than a job to me. It has shaped how I see and understand the world.
For me, architecture is about the relationship between space and people—how a space can affect the way someone feels, and how people can shape the spaces around them. I naturally pay close attention to how an object relates to the person who uses or wears it. That way of thinking sits deeply within my jewellery practice.
On a practical level, architecture taught me how to solve problems. Conflicts always arise, and decisions must be made. I bring that same thinking into jewellery. For example, the Glacial setting and the Monolith clasp were developed in a similar way to architectural details: you do a lot of work to make something look simple.
Architecture has influenced me in a way that doesn’t simply appear as shapes or symbols in my work. It’s more like a philosophy. It’s part of who I am, so I don’t consciously try to move away from it. I simply allow it to come through naturally.
There is an interesting relationship between jewellery and fashion in your work. A single piece can completely alter the attitude of what someone is wearing. How much do you think about clothing, silhouette and personal style when you design, and do you see jewellery as an accessory to fashion or something with an identity entirely of its own?
For me, fashion is one of the strongest forms of self-expression. What makes it so special is that we live in it. What we wear can show who we are, what we value and how we want to be seen. It can change how we feel and shape how other people see us. We get to decide what message we want to send.
When I design, I think about how a piece sits on the body and how it might change the feeling or silhouette of an outfit. But I don’t see jewellery as simply an accessory to fashion. I think it has its own identity, and when someone wears it, that identity becomes part of their own.
My designs always begin with something inside me. It might be a feeling, an emotion, a side of myself that I want to bring forward, or even a quality I don’t have but really admire. I sit with it for a while, then try to turn it into a physical form. Every piece has a seed of that intention within it.
Just this weekend, a longtime customer said to me, “We have nothing in common—how did we even become friends?” We both laughed, but it made me realise that the jewellery had brought us together. My customers come from many different ages, cultures and backgrounds, but they recognise something in the work. When someone connects with that feeling and chooses to wear it, the jewellery becomes a voice for them—a way to express something about themselves. That makes me very happy.
Your practice now extends beyond jewellery into furniture, objects and artworks. What does moving between these different scales allow you to explore creatively? Do ideas ever begin in one discipline and unexpectedly find their way into another?
After working with jewellery for eight years, it felt natural to start exploring form at different scales.
I try to keep the process very intuitive. Sometimes I’ll look at an earring and think, “That would make a great chair,” and then I’ll go and explore it. An idea can begin as a piece of jewellery and later become furniture, an object or an artwork.
Moving between different scales gives me a lot of freedom. It’s a very joyful place to be, and also a real privilege—one that I work hard to protect. It reminds me that an idea doesn’t have to belong to only one discipline. It can keep changing shape.
We are increasingly seeing people approach significant occasions with the same individuality they bring to their everyday wardrobes, choosing pieces because they express something about who they are rather than because they conform to convention. How do you imagine Kevin Thorne jewellery entering those more meaningful moments, particularly weddings and celebrations?
I haven’t been married yet—haha—but I have experienced love and been to some very heartfelt weddings. To me, a wedding feels like a mix of love, blessings, dreams, fun and a little bit of glamour. Those are the feelings I would want to draw from when creating jewellery for these moments.
I haven’t released a bridal collection yet, but I’m beginning to explore what one could look like. For a long time, bridal jewellery has felt quite formulaic. People often choose something “classic,” which makes complete sense, especially for a piece they want to keep forever. But recently, I’ve noticed people bringing much more of their own style and personality into weddings. I think this creates an exciting space to explore what bridal jewellery can be.
One recent piece that began this exploration is the Xuān Earring, Studio Work KT6385. I imagine Kevin Thorne jewellery being chosen for weddings because it feels like the person wearing it—not simply because it looks “bridal.” I would love to create pieces that still carry the feeling of that day many years later.
Jewellery has a uniquely intimate relationship with the body. It moves with us, touches the skin and can become deeply connected to memory. When you are working with form and materials, how conscious are you of the person who will eventually inhabit the piece?
I always have the person who might wear the piece, or the occasion it might become part of, in my mind when I’m creating. It’s a bit like making a movie—sometimes I’m inside the story, and sometimes I’m the storyteller, imagining the life this piece might become part of.
I’m often inspired by my customers, especially when I know who I’m creating for. Part of my role is to try to understand what someone is looking for, whether they can express it clearly or only feel it subconsciously, and then translate that feeling into a physical form.
The jewellery begins with me, but it becomes complete when someone wears it and makes it part of their own life and memories.
You grew up in China, developed your architectural practice in New Zealand and are now based between the two countries. Without assuming a direct aesthetic influence, how has living and working across different places affected the way you observe design, objects and the way people express themselves?
I believe every designer, artist or creative person has their own lens. Our culture and life experiences shape that lens, and it continues to change with us.
Growing up in China, I was exposed to traditional Chinese art, especially calligraphy and painting. That gave me a strong understanding of balance. The idea of Zhongyong—the middle way—also taught me that balance doesn’t mean avoiding conflict. It can mean finding a way for opposites to exist together.
Life in New Zealand is different in many ways—not better or worse, simply different. Living between the two places has made me more aware of how differently people see design, objects and self-expression. Moving between them keeps me curious. It makes me notice things I might otherwise take for granted, and that curiosity naturally finds its way into the work.
As you continue to establish and evolve Kevin Thorne, what feels most exciting to you about where contemporary jewellery is heading? What do you think a new generation wants from the pieces they choose to invest in, and what are you personally still trying to understand, challenge or push further within your own work?
What excites me about contemporary jewellery is how open it can be. It can sit between art, design, fashion and craft, and it doesn’t have to follow traditional rules. There is space for people to develop their own language and express something personal. That sense of independence really resonates with me.
I sense that a new generation wants more than something beautiful or valuable. They want pieces that feel personal, but they also want to understand the ideas, people and processes behind them.
I don’t take the privilege of being an independent artist for granted. I don’t want to decide too early what Kevin Thorne jewellery has to be. I want the work to keep evolving as I do, and I want to share that evolution with the people who connect with it.
For more information visit kevinthorne.com and @kevin_thorne_
