Annan Shao (b.1998) is a new media artist based in Shanghai. Her works explore the evolution of individual motivation by combining the mediums of new media animation and mixed media installations. Through the creation of virtual ecology and mixed media field narratives, she maps reality with allegorical hypothetical spatial and temporal events.

She graduated from the China Academy of Art with a Bachelor’s degree in visual communication and a Master’s degree in fine art from Chelsea College of Art and Design, University of the Arts London.Her works have been exhibited at  Shangh Art Gallery, Tank Shanghai, Guangdong Contemporary Art Centre, Gravity Art Museum (Beijing), Zabludowicz Collection (London), etc.

In 2025, her work Reptile Cafe is selected in Athens Digital Art Festival under the animation category “Eden’s Fringe”. In 2024, Reptile Cafe won the Nescience or the State of not Knowing international digital art call curated by MMMAD Art Festival. In 2023, her work Customised New Routine won the From Micro To Macro and Back digital art call by SMTH Art in Spain, and her work Highway Sushi won the NAFI Future prize from Nanjing Art Fair International. She is currently active as an artist and designer on international platforms.

Can you tell us about your background and how you started your artistic journey?

I was born in 1998 in Nanjing, Jiangsu Province. I received my BA in Visual Communication from the China Academy of Art and my MA in Fine Art from Chelsea College of Arts, University of the Arts London.

My artistic journey began quite early. I’ve always loved drawing and crafting — I decided I wanted to be a painter when I was six (before I didn’t know how broad “art” could be; now I would describe myself as a new media artist).

I was unexpectedly admitted to a design department for my undergraduate studies. At first, I felt a bit lost and resistant, because I was more skilled with hands-on crafts than with digital tools. But later I realized that Visual Communication is actually a broad field — not just traditional graphic design. What I gained most from my time at the China Academy of Art was the ability to translate ideas and concepts into visual narratives, and to become proficient with digital media.

Eventually, I felt drawn back to contemporary art, so I pursued MA Fine Art at UAL. When I arrived in London in 2020, the whole city was under lockdown. With nothing much to do, I started watching online 3D tutorials. I found that I had a natural sensitivity for spatial imagination — after a week of learning, I made my first animation work Artificial Horizon. The positive feedback I received from my early new media works gave me confidence to continue down this creative path.

What are the main themes or concepts you explore in your new media art? Are there any particular media you prefer working with? Why?

My practice explores how social motives evolve, often through the creation of virtual ecologies and mixed-media field narratives. In recent years, my works have developed from personal experiences and daily sensations, expanding private imagery into reflections on broader social conditions.

Each year, I create an annual project centered on new media — mainly 3D animation — combined with installation and interactive or physical extensions. For me, moving image and installation always mirror each other: the narratives in my videos often expand into physical space, while the spatial structures of my installations feed back into the image.

Creating larger-scale environments and more complex site-specific settings feels like a crucial step forward, as it links virtual storytelling with real, sensory experiences — building an immersive and coherent language that connects imagination with lived reality.

Can you describe a recent project or artwork that you are particularly proud of?

My recent project Reptile Café is one that I’m proud of.

Reptile Café uses reptilian behavioral symbols and virtual beverage brands to discuss the post-human instinct under the soothing influence of contemporary beverage culture. In the animation, viewers experience the café’s service process from a first-person perspective — exploring their desires and hallucinations through visualized flavors, mapping behavioral patterns governed by the “reptilian brain.”

The hope is that, after immersion, the caffeine-washed reptilian brain might still allow us to contemplate the possibility of observing this system from outside.

I’m satisfied with this project because everything I envisioned in the early concept phase was realized: the large-screen video exhibition (won the digital art open call Nescience or the State of Not Knowing, touring eight city complexes in Spain including Madrid and Barcelona), the online interactive show (presented with the new media art platform Slime Engine), the physical installation exhibition (in Trapping Fever at ShanghART Gallery), a food-themed workshop and window project(at Gravity Art Museum, Beijing), and even an art café presentation (at Tank Shanghai).

How do you get inspiration for creating futuristic scenes in your 3D animation work?

I don’t deliberately pursue a futuristic aesthetic — the scenes are always built in service of the story. What matters most to me is world-building: I want everything that appears in the animation — from the environment to the characters — to be designed by me, not taken from real life. Only then does it belong to my world. Perhaps that’s where the sense of “alienation” or “futurism” comes from.

The design of each scene develops from the project’s central concept. For instance, Highway Sushi has an urban and restrained visual tone because it tells a story about informational closed loops through food. Customised New Routine features bluish-purple, unfamiliar natural environments, reflecting the theme of self-creation and individual interpretation of the world. Meanwhile, Reptile Café uses warm, organic, and slightly creepy tones — it looks delicious but unsettling — echoing its focus on instinctual control through dessert and beverage metaphors.

As a digital artist, how do you approach exhibiting your work? What are your goals when showing your art in digital and physical spaces?

I wouldn’t define myself as a purely digital artist — rather, a cross-media artist. Besides 3D animation, I also work with installation, and recently I’ve explored interactive and edible art. In the future, I’d like to experiment with games and performance as well. Each annual project begins with a moving image as the core, then expands into more tangible and participatory media.

Online, my collaboration with Slime Engine is a good example. Instead of simply screening the animation on a webpage, we created interactive experiences: visitors could “order” a drink, be flushed into the café’s hall through a stream of liquid, watch their chosen beverage being made, explore the back kitchen, be “fed” by the gecko maid, experience sensory hallucinations — and finally receive a virtual flash card of their customized drink. I hope online exhibitions can fully leverage the advantages of digital media: to be engaging, playful, and participatory.

Offline, my moving images have been shown in various contexts — from city façades (large outdoor screens) to gallery and museum projections. When exhibiting in art spaces, I pay close attention to the relationship between video and installation, aiming to build site narratives that link the two.

What projects are you currently working on, and what can we expect from you in the future?

I’m currently working on my 2025 annual project, Hamster Run. It revolves around self-confrontation and temporal dissonance, combining animation (or game) with installation. Using rodent behavioral symbols and nonlinear virtual storytelling, it depicts how humans wrestle with their own instincts and darker impulses, and the anxiety of being out of sync with time.

Last year, I adopted a golden hamster — a nocturnal animal. Many nights, while I was facing my screen, I heard her running frantically on her wheel, and felt my restless thoughts tied to her small, trembling body. Caring for her felt less like keeping a pet and more like comforting a version of myself unburdened by social responsibility, concerned only with instinctual needs. Yet when she acted stubborn or clumsy, I saw in her my own irrational nighttime self.

This projection led me to doubt the continuity of the self across time. We often cannot bear our past selves — even the person we were a moment ago. As external conditions shift, we chase a vaguely “better” state, yet dissatisfaction follows us everywhere.

A hamster runs desperately when anxious, as if it could escape its cage — but when it stops, disoriented, it finds itself still in the same place.

Rodents’ nocturnal habits mirror human cycles of insomnia, bingeing, anxiety, and self-judgment. This project builds a symbolic space to explore one’s relationship with different temporal selves — especially the parts we refuse to forgive or face.

Looking ahead, I want to create site-specific exhibitions structured like narratives. By combining installation, 3D animation, and performative elements, I imagine building environments that can be worn, consumed, or self-sustaining — almost like habitats where audiences are guided into sensory systems governed by soft discipline. Within such spaces, I test how instinct and attention are shaped by technology, consumption, and design.

Text & photo courtesy of  Annan Shao

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/shaoannan/