Andy Li Handcrafts Positivity, One Pennant at a Time

Though wall space is at a premium, seven colorful pennants, embroidered with equally colorful language, take pride of place in Kemp’s office. The pennants’ sayings range in sentiment, from inspirational and motivational to whimsical and unpredictable. Written on black fabric with red thread, one pennant reads, “No no …

“They’re just these fun, absurd statements,” Kemp explained.

The pennants are the work of 35-year-old Boston artist Andy Li, who has been creating them since 2017.

Li says his goal is to spread positivity through his work and encourage people to pass it on. “I believe good intentions can create more good intentions,” he said in an interview.

The pennants start with a vibrant nylon fabric base of a navy flag. Each piece is designed with a concentric triangle and a phrase written in capital letters, using polyester thread and a method called free-motion embroidery. It’s “like using a Ouija board,” he said of the process, which he said takes about four hours.

Li estimates he’s made about 300 pennants, ranging in length from 12 to 20 inches, costing $150 to $400 respectively, and he sells them mainly online and in boutiques.

Kemp’s collection includes The Animal (‘I’m only human, but animals taught me to be a good person’) and The Fun, which features the lyrics: ‘If you don’t enjoy it, is it worth it?’

Many words fall victim to the limitations of the convergent form of the pennant; hyphens are used often and liberally. Inspired by experiences, interactions, and specific words, Li sometimes spends months developing his statements, writing and rewriting them until they look and feel just right.

“If one sentence can help other people get the emotional release they need,” he said, “that’s something special.”

Dani Niedzielski, co-owner of the boutique tea shop The Captain’s Daughters in Provincetown, agrees that the short but meaningful sentences create a connection between artist and audience. The store has featured Li’s work since it opened in 2017. When shoppers view his work in the gallery, “there’s a moment of ‘wait, what?’ And then usually a smile and a laugh,” Niedzielski said.

In 2017, Li featured in a show called “Immigancy,” which featured the work of immigrants and their descendants, at Samsøñ in the South End. His pennant titled The Repeat (“Repeat after me, I’m here for a good time, not a long time”) was placed in the gallery’s window. Its inclusion in the show gave Li a boost of confidence and a sense of legitimacy: “I thought, ‘oh (expletive). I’m in this. I’m standing next to Ai Weiwei.’”

Then, in the spring of 2020, the Rose Kennedy Greenway team asked Li to create a public art exhibit at Auntie Kay and Uncle Frank Chin Park to celebrate the Year of the Ox. Li, who had slowed his artistic efforts at the start of the pandemic, happily prepared for the work, drawing motivation from his subject.

“The ox was about consistency,” he said, “not to be praised for the (quality of the) work, but for the work itself.” After six months of researching the animal and sewing 28 flags he made for display, The Herd flew high above the Chinatown Gate.

The opportunities have inspired Li’s latest venture, the No Call No Show gallery in The Distillery, a former rum warehouse in South Boston. Through the space, which opened earlier this year, he hopes to give emerging artists a platform to be seen and a sense of community with minimal barriers to entry.

The appointment-only gallery’s second (and current) exhibition, titled “Open Call Big Show,” opened in June and features 49 artists from Greater Boston, including painters, photographers, and sculptors. As the name suggests, he put out a call on Instagram for anyone willing to show his work. “The goal is to fill these walls floor to ceiling, salon style!” he wrote.

And then he did it.

“If you brought it in, it went up,” Li said.

Jillian Brosofsky is a writer living in Boston.