Issue No. 4: Rona Chang, Otto Finn
Chang makes colorful, one-of-a-kind coats, sweatshirts, accessories and more from upcycled textiles like Indian kantha quilts.
When I moved to Pittsburgh in 2019, I was so excited to explore all of the city’s diverse neighborhoods—for those who don’t know, there are 90 of them in total, and each one has its own unique character.
Lawrenceville, with its cool boutiques, coffee shops and restaurants, was one of the first I visited, and I remember walking into a shop called Make + Matter that was filled candles, tea towels, jewelry, ceramics and clothing, all made by local artisans. My eye was particularly drawn to the brightly patterned jackets made by Rona Chang of Otto Finn, one of Make + Matter’s owners. Inspired by Indian miniature paintings and Japanese woodblock prints, Chang’s pieces are made from vintage quilts and are totally one-of-a-kind.
Though Make + Matter has sadly closed, Chang’s creations are available through her website and, as of late last year, at the Otto Finn Studio + Shop in Lawrenceville, a space she shares with artist Thommy Conroy. You can get a sense of the beauty of her pieces online, but trust me, it’s absolutely worth stopping by the gallery to see them in person. Chang is also planning to host workshops and gatherings in the space—in fact, one called the Mend & Meal Social series kicks off this month. (Find more about it here.)
I visited Chang and her sweet German shepherd, Poker, at her studio and shop, where she graciously answered my questions about her bicultural childhood, her career, what inspires her and her tips for building a more sustainable wardrobe. Read on for all that and much more. (This interview has been edited for length and clarity.)
Name: Rona Chang
Age: 46
Zodiac sign: Aries
You grew up in Taiwan and then moved to Buffalo, New York. What was that like?
“My parents divorced when I was seven, and my dad stayed in Taiwan. In Buffalo, my mom and I lived on a block with lots of Asian families, so there was an immediate community, which was really nice.
“I became friends with a girl named Mimi who lived on the next block. Her family was really welcoming. We were pretty poor, so they would always treat me to things, and I had dinner at their house a lot. Her mom used to sew Mimi clothes, and she would also sew clothes for me.
“I don't think I realized how lucky I was [to have someone making clothes for me] until later. I still wish I knew where Mimi was.”
When did you move to New York City?
“After about a year in Buffalo, because my mom had a hard time finding work.”
Were you into arts and crafts as a child?
“When we first moved to New York from Taiwan, I went to a Saturday art class at a university in Buffalo—I was 7, and it was our first year in the States. There was construction paper and scissors, and I went to town. I remember being so excited about being able to cut things and having multiple colors of paper. That was my first time crafting. I don't remember there being any crafting in my life prior to that, or any art. It opened my motor senses—possibilities emerged.”
You began sewing as a kid, too, right?
“Yes—when I was 8, my grandmother taught me how to hand sew. I lost interest as a teenager when it got too technical, probably because I started so young.”
What were you making?
“A lot of dresses and skirts with fringe that were diagonal. I was watching a lot of Jem and the Holograms.”
How did you decide to focus on printmaking and photography in high school and college?
“When I was getting ready to apply to high school, I thought I should apply to a school called the High School of Fashion Industry because I was interested in fashion. Then a family friend said, ‘Rona, you should consider applying to LaGuardia High School because you’re really smart, it’s more rigorous than the other school, and it will introduce you to other forms of art,’ which I hadn’t considered. My mom didn’t know anything about the high school system [in the U.S.], and this advice was coming from friends who had taught her English at the library. They also had a son who was a year older than me, so they’d just gone through the process.
“So I applied to LaGuardia and got in, and I learned photography and printmaking and loved it. I spent all my time in the dark room.”
Then you went on to Cooper Union for college—what was that like?
“Cooper Union has a Saturday program for New York City high school students that’s free and taught by Cooper students. It's a great mentorship program because the Cooper students are ahead of you and older than you, but only by a little bit. You can take a portfolio prep class or other courses—I actually took a sculpture class. I got familiar with the school from being able to walk around the halls and take classes in its classrooms, and I loved it.
“I applied to a bunch of art schools, but we were still pretty poor at that point, and I didn’t get financial aid from most of them—there was no way I could afford to go to college otherwise. I got lucky and got into Cooper, and I continued to pursue photography and printmaking.”
After college, you worked as an assistant photographer of Asian art in the Photograph Studio at the Metropolitan Museum of Art—will you tell me about that?
“I got accepted to a high school apprenticeship program at the Met, and I had a mentor at the museum who was really kind and encouraging. I ended up working for her a little bit throughout college, too, and we stayed in touch. That's how I ended up getting the job at the Met. My mentor introduced me to my then-boss.”
What was the work like?
“My job was to document all the flat work in the Asian art collection. I photographed Chinese hand scrolls section by section, delicate palm leaf paintings, Indian miniature paintings, Japanese woodblock prints…
“When you're doing something like that over the course of months and years, you're seeing the entirety of a collection through time. You're also getting a pretty good visual education and an art history education if you talk to the curators. That was amazing. Even when I was working there, I always knew I was lucky to be walking through halls filled with centuries of beautiful art.”
That’s so cool.
“It’s a lot of looking! But I was handling the art, too. They trained me to do it safely.”
How did working with those pieces go on to inform what you do today?
“I was already drawn to a lot of the pieces, like the Indian miniature paintings. The perspective in a lot of them is kind of wonky, but the dimensionality and colors appealed to me. Same with the Japanese block prints. Those were the pieces I lingered on.
“I feel like, in some ways, it’s come full circle now that I’m making these open kimono-style pieces—inspired by Japanese haori—out of gorgeous, handcrafted Indian textiles. It’s not an exact translation of what I did back then, but it feels like what I can make out of my experience there.”
What brought you to Pittsburgh?
“I got married.”
My husband did the Pittsburgh boomerang, too—I get it!
“After the Met, I worked for a company called Chicago Albumen Works in another digital archiving job—it was based in the Berkshires, and I ran its outpost in Chelsea. We contracted with smaller museums and institutions that didn't have their own in-house photography studio or crew. That was another great working experience. I got lucky. All the bosses I've ever had were always so kind.
“Our lease came up in Chelsea, and I didn't think we should renew it because we didn't have enough work to warrant the rent for that space, so I ended up leaving when the lease was up. After that job ended, I found out I was pregnant with our first child, and after he was born, we moved here.”
How did you find the transition of moving from New York to Pittsburgh?
“We lived in downtown Beaver Falls when we first moved, and it was hard. Beaver Falls is very depressed, and there wasn’t much of a neighborhood downtown. But we moved there because my in-laws owned this giant warehouse, and we could live there rent-free.”
And what made you decide to start Otto Finn?
“Well, my husband studied ceramics and also did sewing jobs. At the time, he was designing lighting—like, modern, porcelain slip-cast Scandinavian lighting. He started doing it in New York, but part of the reason we moved to Beaver Falls was so he could have production space. So Otto Finn was originally a lighting company, and I was making tea towels for the home goods portion of the site. Then our son, Otto, started crawling, and his pants would slide off when he moved. We started making him these harem pants from my husband's fabric stash, which included lots of designer seconds, with an elastic waistband, and they stayed on.
“So we started making children’s things, and people were like, ‘You should sell these!’ Eventually the lighting business faded away, because my husband started doing other work. He got less involved, and I got more involved. Plus, I liked making things.”
When did you move to Lawrenceville?
“We lived in Beaver Falls for about a year-and-a-half, and then we moved down to Lawrenceville and bought a fixer-upper house—my husband worked on it for months before we could move in. Meanwhile, his uncle bought the Radiant Hall building, so we lived with him during the renovations on our house, and I got to have a studio there. It was great because if my son was napping, I could run to the studio to work, or after I put him down at night, I could go downstairs. That got me into a studio practice.”
What made you decide to start selling adult clothing?
“When we opened Make + Matter, Rebekah [of Flux Bene] and Kelly [of Kelly Lane Design] said, ‘Why don’t you start selling adult clothes instead of children’s clothes?’ At that point, I was selling tea towels and T-shirts that were all around the $20 mark, and Rebekah and Kelly were like, ‘You’re never going to make enough money on such low-ticket items.’
“So I began working with Hannah at East End Cooperative Ministries—I would show her my designs, and she would help me translate them into patterns since at that point, I hadn’t really sewn any garments since middle school. She also taught me a lot about the manufacturing process.
“We opened Make + Matter in summer 2018, and I made the first jacket around October or November of that year. I started with American quilts, but then moved onto kantha quilts, which I was more interested in, both design-wise and as a material to work with.”
Was sustainability important to you from the beginning?
“Yeah. I thought, ‘If I were to buy new fabric, I would only use organic, because I’m putting these pieces on my kid, too.’ But I also thought, ‘What would distinguish me from other makers?’ Plus, we had the giant stash of fabric of my husband’s. It was a good way to use it.
“Working with Kelly and Rebekah [who both embraced a zero-waste philosophy] at the shop also taught me a lot about sustainability and upcycling. Rebekah and I are still good friends, and we talk about those things constantly.”
You’ve said the traditional jackets your father wore in Taiwan inspire your pieces, in addition to your museum work. Will you describe them?
“My dad had four seasonal jackets—each had a different weight, and he had them custom-made. He was friends with the tailor in our town. The jackets were long—like, ankle-length—and they crossed over and buttoned on the side.
“My dad was a cool guy. He was full of charisma and dressed differently than most people, who didn’t wear traditional clothes like that. He also had a big hat collection, wore thick-rimmed glasses and had a handlebar mustache. He was very distinguished; he cared about what he looked like.
“He was often invited as a speaker to weddings, funerals and political events—he was very politically active, and a big relationships guy.”
What’s the best part about owning a business in Pittsburgh?
“When we started Make + Matter, we built a nice community because we were working with local artists. I'm also still in touch with almost everyone we wholesaled or consigned with.
“I’ve also been in different mentoring groups, and we try to encourage each other and help each other out. Some of us are in a Slack channel, and we’ll ask, ‘Do you have suggestions for photography?’ or ‘Where do you find a table that looks like this for a shoot?’ There’s a sense of generosity. I didn't feel that in New York, even though I grew up there.”
What’s the most challenging thing?
“Profit margin. It isn’t high—these are labor-intensive pieces.
“Marketing has also always been challenging for me. My pieces definitely have a particular audience. I've learned more and more about that audience through the years, and I'm understanding how to reach them more and more, but that has been a huge learning curve.”
Do you feel that the city of Pittsburgh is friendly to small businesses?
“Yes. It's affordable in terms of studio rent—I can't imagine finding a studio in New York City that’s the price of a Radiant Hall studio. And because space is so affordable, it allows you to experiment. There’s less pressure if something doesn't pan out; depending on how much leeway you have, you can keep experimenting. I think Pittsburgh affords that to artists.”
Do you feel like the city is an ally for the Asian community?
“On the whole, yeah. In the city.”
How has motherhood shaped your work?
“Well, my work is based on the Pittsburgh Public Schools schedule! But really, the nature of being a mom has informed what my parameters are in terms of my time and my resources. I created a job that’s flexible with my kids’ schedule. They remind me to be present a lot more.”
“The business probably didn’t turn a profit until recently because I was giving so much time to my kids—they are my priority, and I couldn’t give Otto Finn 100 percent for a long time. Now that my kids are both in school, I’m slowly giving Otto Finn more. Every year, my time expands a little.”
What’s your favorite part about what you do?
“I mean, it allows me to bring a dog to work, which I really love! Plus, the community aspect has been amazing—like continuing to build relationships."
“Also, the flexibility I have if my kids are sick or they don't have school. It doesn't mean the work has stopped; I have to make it up at a different time. But I don't feel guilty.”
Rona shares three tips for building a more sustainable wardrobe.
Start with what you have. “Wear it for as long as possible, and then mend it if you can.”
Buy used when you can. “Thrift instead of buying another new item and bringing more pieces into your wardrobe.”
Think about what you actually need. “Consider the gaps in your wardrobe as opposed to what you want.”