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Artemin Gallery Presents Fuengfah Factory, A Solo Exhibition By Juli Baker and Summer

Poster credit: Artemin Gallery Artemin Gallery is thrilled to present the new exhibition, Fuengfah (Bougainvillea) Factory by Juli Baker and Summer, now on view. The exhibition is inspired by a 1975 documentary about the Hara Jean’s factory, which revealed the intense circumstances surrounding Thai female garment workers and the military-political climate of the time. During the period when the girls took over the factory, they continued to play music and read books, gestures that fostered a sense of hope and generated ripple effects that shaped the final outcome.
This exhibition serves as a thank-you letter from Juli to all the women who fought for themselves, and who also shaped her younger self as she searched for her identity through her own way of styling.
We are pleased to invite everyone to experience this journey and share in its joy.

A Lady Running Into the Wood, 2025, Acrylic on canvas, 113 x 170 cm Artist Statement:
I’ve always wanted to dress in a way that feels true to me. From childhood to my teenage years and into who I am today, fashion has been a way of exploring myself, trying on identities, emotions, and ways of being. Even when I imagine myself as an old woman in the future, I picture her through what she chooses to wear.
Studying fashion taught me that clothes are never just clothes. They carry labor, history, and the hands behind every seam. Clothes can comfort, reveal, hide, or resist.

Juli Baker And Summer at the exhibition This exhibition was inspired by a documentary about Thai female garment workers (Hara jeans factory)in 1975, during a brief moment of political awakening, when student and worker movements challenged military power. Some of the women were only fourteen. They took over their factory, produced their own jeans for sale, played music, read books, and fought for fair pay. Watching it felt like a coming of age film, except the main characters were working class women and everything was real.
Fuengfah Factory is where these stories meet. A shared imaginary factory where dreams are woven, identities are tried on, and lives are formed between labor, resistance, and small little joys in life. Like bougainvillea growing along factory walls, bright, delicate yet resilient, it is made by the people, for the people.
This exhibition is a thank you letter to the workers who stitched the clothes that shaped me and to the younger versions of myself who learned who they were through what they wore.

Installation view of Fuengfah (Bougainvillea) Factory 
Installation view of Fuengfah (Bougainvillea) Factory Venue
Artemin Gallery (111 1F, No. 32, Ln. 251, Jihe Rd., Shilin Dist., 111, Taipei City, Taiwan)Artist
Juli Baker And SummerExhibition Dates
January 10, 2026 – February 10, 2026Gallery Hours
Tuesday – Saturday | 11:00 – 18:00Website
https://www.artemingallery.com/Instagram
https://www.instagram.com/artemin.gallery/Contact
info@artemingallery.com(Text and images courtesy of Artemin Gallery)
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Johyun Gallery Seoul Presents Love of this Age, a Solo Exhibition by Lee So Yeun

Sheep Mask, 2025, Oil on canvas, 160 x 140 cm Johyun Gallery_Seoul presents Love of this Age, a solo exhibition by Lee So Yeun, on view from December 17, 2025 to February 8, 2026. Featuring twelve new works, the exhibition transforms the gallery’s enclosed white cube into a phantasmagoric and private sanctum. Through this spatial intervention, Lee summons layered personas of the self, shaped by accumulated inner records and memories of place. The exhibition title, borrowed from the poetry collection of the renowned poet Choi Seung-ja, resonates with the artist’s personal experience of capturing the flow of time and the unyielding intensity of emotion. This emotional tenor permeates the entire exhibition, where the pictorial frame functions as a medium that freely invokes invisible sensations and time.
The deep crimson walls, painted in Carmine—a vivid red pigment historically extracted from cochineal beetles—serve as a device that transcends a mere exhibition backdrop to physically manifest the artist’s intimate interiority. Within this visceral space, painting expands beyond the flat surface to become an experiential stage. The objects depicted are all personal items the artist has owned and used: a candlestick purchased in Amsterdam two decades ago, a brewery bottle, a Chamisul soju bottle, a green David Hockney monograph. These objets stand as evidence of the time that has passed through the artist’s life, forming sedimented layers of memories where different eras and places overlap. In particular, Hockney’s book marks a decisive turning point for Lee; she recalls a four-hour exhibition visit that shook her to the core, fundamentally reorienting her artistic bearing thereafter.

Black Dress, 2025, Oil on canvas, 220 x 400 cm Visitors are invited into this private, phantasmagoric, yet theatrical atmosphere created by golden, candle-lit shadows. These expressive shadows, as arresting as the objects themselves, and the light piercing through them, blur the boundaries between reality and unreality. This interplay evokes the viewer’s own senses, superimposing them atop the artist’s private recollections. At the center appears a figure, gazing at the viewer: it is Lee So Yeun’s self-portrait. However, this figure is less about the traditional identity of a self-portrait and closer to a narrative device. Unlike her early works, in recent pieces, the artist minimizes facial shadows, removes expression, and maintains the figure in a neutral state through backlit silhouetting. This strategy creates space for viewers to project their own emotions. Meanwhile, in a broad sense, since every object on the screen reflects the artist’s ego, the work may also be read as an expanded self-portrait.
Reconstructing the artist’s past memories, this exhibition simultaneously prefigures future structural changes. Previously, the figure was fixed center-canvas, but has now shifted—or rather, exited the screen—gaining posture and movement in the dynamic unfolding of the composition. In works without backgrounds, a single figure or object functions as the subject and center, directly presenting the emotion of the moment. Conversely, in works with backgrounds, figures, objects, and colors all operate as equal narrative agents, weaving complex stories across the entire screen. Lee plans to expand into larger objects such as pianos, horses, and large dining tables, and to experiment with installation and sculptural elements in future works. In the changes of color and lighting, and in the formal decisions where the entire screen has become more dramatic, one senses a desire to reclaim greater self-determinacy.
The artist invites the audience to approach the work sensually, intuitively, and instinctively rather than via calculated interpretation, which she deems excessive for her work. To think and experience the sensory whole created by the atmosphere of color, light, shadow, and space—that is the method of viewing appropriate for this exhibition.

Installation view of Love of this Age, Lee So Yeun, 2025, Courtesy of Johyun Gallery_Seoul What is Painting to Me? – Lee So Yeun
Every figure inhabiting my canvas is a self-portrait. Yet, these are not about the likenesses captured before a mirror. Rather, they are personas forged across the diverse landscapes and nations I have traveled and experienced. Manifesting at times as a young girl, a stranger, or a mask-like visage, they reveal the multiple strata of my identity.
For me, painting is not a mere technique of mimetically reproducing reality. It is a medium that summons invisible sensations and accumulated time. Within this pictorial space, the authentic self and the constructed self—the private individual versus the social face—intersect to generate tension.
Ultimately, painting is a form of play. Rather than adhering to a correct answer regarding perspective, color, or composition, I deliberately distort and destabilize these elements, staging scenes that coax out the diverse egos within me. Thus, I define painting as a magical language—one through which I navigate the countless versions of the self and reconnect with the world.
What is painting? To answer that question, and to excavate the myriad “Is” buried deeper within, I will continue to paint.

Installation view of Love of this Age, Lee So Yeun, 2025, Courtesy of Johyun Gallery_Seoul Emotion as Art, Lee So Yeun’s Persona
Weaving the public foundation of art through deeply private emotions compels us to re-examine the relationship between the individual and the world. This is not merely about contrasting collective history with personal sentiment; rather, it fundamentally concerns the stance of the subject who places that relationship at the center of their consciousness. To understand this, we might look to the literary concept of grammatical personhood, that is the linguistic structure that defines the distance between I (First Person), You (Second Person), and They (Third Person). In Lee So Yeun’s work, emotion functions like this grammar: it is a mechanism of affect that bridges the gap between the creator’s private intention and the viewer’s public immersion. Emotion here does not stagnate within the private self; instead, it expands outward, establishing the very conditions for identity precisely at the moment of contact with the world. The Persona is the anthropomorphized manifestation of this will—a bridge built to traverse the distance between the self and the Other.
In her practice, Lee So Yeun has long utilized the figure not as a realistic representation, but as a projection of her interiority. To borrow from the sociologist Erving Goffman (1922–1982), she constructs a Front—a term Goffman used to describe the performance space where an individual manages the impression they give to others. Through Dramatic Realization, Lee presents idealized or controlled versions of the self using costumes, masks, and staging, thereby curating the truth the viewer perceives. However, her latest works introduce a relational totality that shifts this dynamic. By blurring the semi-transparent boundary between her sense of self and the external world, she moves beyond mere theatrical performance into a realm of affective resonance. Here, the artist’s presence is not acted out on a stage but felt in the room, sublimating private emotion into a topography of contemporary identity that crosses historical time and space.
The exhibition Love of this Age (2025) at Johyun Gallery Seoul marks a decisive departure from Lee’s previous methodology. In the past, she employed a strategy of the spotlight, highlighting the persona-figure and the dramatic situation they inhabited. In contrast, the new works evoke a far more open atmosphere of communication. This shift occurs because the everyday objects constituting the artist’s life have now usurped the position of the Front once occupied by the figure, transforming from mere accessories into active agents of biographical testimony. These objects—supports for a layer of sensory collection—summon the artist’s persona from the realm of the surreal into the immediate here and now.
Featuring consumer goods imprinted with brand names and specific tastes (such as in Black Dress (2025), Fox Fur Stole (2025), Sheep Mask(2025), Black Wig (2025), Yellow Wig (2025) ), Lee compels the viewer to withdraw the conventional iconographic gaze usually reserved for the figure. Instead, these objects naturally activate an opportunity for the viewer to autonomously organize the totality of reality through emotional metaphor. This comprehensive reorganization of the object’s status on the canvas serves as a contemporary renewal of the Vanitas tradition. Unlike historical Vanitas which mobilized dead objects (skulls, rotting fruit) to preach the moral lessons of emptiness and transience, Lee So Yeun aggregates living objects—items of actual use and fragmented traces of life summoned from the layered depths of memory. These are not symbols of death, but aesthetic practices of vivid scene manifestation that prioritize the tactile presence of the living over the symbolism of the dead. Through works like the Parallel Still Life series, the artist readjusts the order that synchronizes the subject and the world, allowing phenomena to be perceived anew within a diversified semantic network of time and space.
As the artist herself has revealed, the title Love of this Age is borrowed from the poetry collection of the same name by Choi Seung-ja (1981). It is telling that Lee, who previously favored titles based on surface indicators, has now chosen one that reveals her emotions without concealment. This intuitive choice elevates the status of everyday life and objects from mere peripheral elements to central agents of meaning. “Love” in this context is not a passion limited by conventional hierarchy, but a fierce existential will to establish a transcendental relationship with the world. From this vantage point, Lee So Yeun’s painting traverses the crevasse between art and reality in a form that is both delicate and resolute.
Jang Jin-taek (Art Critic)

Lee So Yeun Artist Profile ©Lee So Yeun About Artist
Lee So Yeun (b.1971)
https://www.johyungallery.com/artists/53-lee-so-yeun/biography/Lee So Yeun’s self-portraits, reminiscent of identification photos, vividly depict snapshots of her life’s journey and the epochs she has navigated. Depicted with bold forms and luminous hues, the objects laden with multiple meanings evoke a subtle theatrical atmosphere and an unusual intimacy. It weaves together elements of similarity and contrast, delicately balancing between closeness and estrangement. Lee So Yeun majored in fine art in South Korea and continued her studies at the Münster Kunst Academy in Germany. Her nomination for Düsseldorf’s “Emprise Art Prize” catalysed her recognition within the German art sector. By 2005, she earned the “Young Artist Award” from the Columbus Art Foundation in Ravensburg. From 2006, she collaborated exclusively with Düsseldorf’s esteemed Conrad Gallery, achieving international acclaim at renowned art fairs including the Cologne Art Colony in Germany, Show Off in Paris, ARCO in Madrid, and Scope and Pulse Art Fairs in New York. She has showcased solo exhibitions at Kunsthaus Essen (2014), Johyun Gallery (2014), and Space K (2013). She also participated in notable group exhibitions at the Gyeonggi Museum of Modern Art (2018), Sejong Centre (2017), Amway Museum (2016), Pohang Museum of Steel Art (2015), and Gallery Lux (2015). Currently, her works are part of collections at TCB collection in Japan, Achenbach Art Consulting in Germany, the Columbus Foundation, and t.VIS.t Communication in Madrid, Spain.
Venue
Johyun Gallery_Seoul, B1 The Shilla Hotel, 249 Dongho-ro, Jung-gu, SeoulArtists
Lee So YeunExhibition Dates
17 Dec, 2025 – 8 February, 2026Gallery Hours
Tuesday – Sunday | 10:30 AM – 18:30 PMWebsite
https://www.johyungallery.comInstagram
https://www.instagram.com/johyungallery/Contact
info@johyungallery.com(Text and images courtesy of Johyun Gallery_Seoul)
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Whitestone Gallery Presents a Group Exhibition: Almost Spring

Poster credit: Whitestone Gallery Whitestone Gallery is pleased to present Almost Spring, a curated selection from the gallery’s collection, unfolding across multiple floors as a gradual shift in mood, material, and color. Like the season it alludes to, the exhibition inhabits a moment of transition—where stillness begins to loosen and subtle vitality surfaces.

Jiang Miao, Mindfulness, 2023, Acrylic on aluminium panel, carving, 90.0 x 90.0 cm The B1 space is dedicated to abstract works that emphasize texture and materiality. Featuring works by Yayoi Kusama, Jiang Miao, Soonik Kwon, Tsuyoshi Maekawa and Katsuyoshi Inokuma, this floor invites viewers into a tactile landscape shaped by repetition, gesture, and surface. Here, matter feels dense and contemplative, echoing the quiet persistence beneath winter’s pause.

Karen Shiozawa, Dune, 2024, Alkyd resin, acrylic, oil on wooden panel, 116.7 x 91 cm Moving upward, the 2nd floor opens into a more dynamic visual rhythm. Works by Aruta Soup, Karen Shiozawa, and Jaehyun Lee explore pop-inflected color, movement, and layered textures in distinct stylistic languages. The atmosphere becomes lighter and more animated, suggesting energy beginning to circulate—forms stretch, colors vibrate, and compositions breathe more freely.
The exhibition culminates on the 4th floor, which focuses on print works by internationally recognized artists including Damien Hirst, KAWS, and Yayoi Kusama, among others. Bright, graphic, and playful, these works foreground pop sensibility and reproducibility, offering a sense of openness and immediacy that completes the exhibition’s gradual ascent toward color and clarity.
We hope visitors enjoy this exhibition as a moment just before spring fully arrives.
Venue
Whitestone Gallery Seoul, 70 Sowol-ro, Yongsan-ku, Seoul, KoreaArtists
Yayoi Kusama, Damien Hirst, Lee Ufan, Julian Opie, KAWS, Florentijn Hofman, Tsuyoshi Maekawa, Katsuyoshi Inokuma, Kwon Soonik, Lee Jaehyun, Jiang Miao, Aruta Soup, Ahhi Choi, Karen ShiozawaExhibtion Dates
24 January – 28 February, 2026Gallery Hours
Tuesday – Sunday | 11 AM – 7 PMWebsite
https://www.whitestone-gallery.comInstagram
https://www.instagram.com/whitestonegallery.officialContact
https://www.whitestone-gallery.com/pages/contact(Text and images courtesy of Whitestone Gallery Seoul)
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Interview | Hong Kong-based Artist Ailsa Wong
Ailsa Wong (b. 1997)’s practice spans across paintings, videos, image-making, games, and installations. Wong explores ways to connect consciousness with primitive emotions to fill the vacuum of belief. Wong’s means of communication draw inspiration from fractured life experiences, wherein meaning is repeatedly dissolved and re-established.
Wong’s solo exhibitions include “1” at DE SARTHE (Hong Kong, 2025), “Disembody” at Cattle Depot Artist Village (Hong Kong, 2025), and “00:00” at Yrellag Gallery (Hong Kong, 2024). Wong participated in duo solo exhibition “This Bitter Earth” at Gallery Exit (Hong Kong, 2019), joint exhibition “I Don’t Know How to Love You Teach Me to Love” at Das Esszimmer (Germany, 2024), and “Ways of Running and Embracing” at Floating Projects (Hong Kong, 2023).
Wong currently lives and works in Hong Kong.

Ant Mill, 2025, 3D video game Can you tell us about your background and how you started your artistic journey?
I’ve enjoyed drawing since I was a child, and during my secondary school years, I was particularly drawn to illustration. My practice began to expand more significantly when I studied Fine Arts at the Chinese University of Hong Kong. There, I developed a strong interest in working across different media, including painting, digital formats, image-based works, and installation.
After graduating, I have some opportunities to exhibit my work. Some projects came through invitations, while others were self-initiated or developed collaboratively with others through funded exhibitions. I just continue making work by responding to opportunities as they arise, allowing my practice to evolve naturally.

Antigora, 2025, 2D Visual novel game 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 new media practice revolves around three closely connected themes: techno-animism, the relationship between virtual worlds and human consciousness, and artificial intelligence as both a material and a collaborator. I am interested in how contemporary technologies shape belief systems, perception, and inner spiritual experience, especially in a time when traditional frameworks of belief feel fragmented.
I don’t have a fixed preference when it comes to medium. I work with paint, rust, fabric, metal, clay, electronic devices, AI-generated images, 3D models, sound, readymade objects… Each medium carries its own texture, character, and material presence. I’m interested in bringing these different textures together to construct a world within the exhibition space that viewers can experience as a whole rather than as separate elements.

Caves, 2025, 2D Visual novel game Can you describe a recent project or artwork that you are particularly proud of?
That would be my recent solo exhibition at DE SARTHE, which took place from May to July 2025. The exhibition transformed the gallery into an immersive, cave-like environment inspired by the interior of an ant nest, bringing together interactive video games, sound installation, moving sculptures, and mixed media works.
Through this exhibition, I explored ideas of techno-animism and collective existence, using the ant colony as a metaphor for interconnected systems of living, mechanical, and digital entities. Works such as the interactive games Antigora and Ant Mill invited viewers to navigate fictional belief systems and closed feedback loops, while sound and sculptural elements functioned almost like ritual objects within the space.

Embryos, 2025, Clay, epoxy, photo transfer on canvas, 160 x 210 cm I was particularly satisfied with how the exhibition worked as a unified experiential system rather than a display of individual artworks. It allowed me to fully integrate digital media, physical materials, and spatial design to create an environment that visitors could inhabit, reflecting my ongoing interest in belief, consciousness, and technology as living systems.

Millipede, 2024, Second hands, quartz clock movements, clay and sand, Size variable Who or what are your biggest influences, both artistically and personally?
I would say Mark Rothko. I learned his work during my university studies, and it fundamentally shifted how I understand art: not as an imitation of the existing world, but as the creation of a new experiential reality.
A few years ago, I visited Rothko Chapel in Houston and it felt almost like a religious experience. The relationship between the space, the paintings, and the viewer created an intense sense of emotional resonance. Since then, I’ve become much more attentive to how exhibition environments shape perception and feeling, and how space itself can function as an integral part of the artwork.

Rope, Flash and Rock Wall, 2024, Mixed media on fabric, 77 x 68 cm What is your creative process like? Do you follow a routine or work spontaneously?
My creative process varies depending on the medium, but it is mostly intuitive and spontaneous. I don’t follow a fixed routine, and I often allow the material I’m working with to guide the process.
For painting, I usually have no drafts, approaching it almost like automatic drawing. For my rust paintings, for example, I apply chemical liquids onto metal plates and allow the natural rusting process to unfold unpredictably. I then respond to the forms that emerge, and further develope the composition.

Sleek/Keels, 2024, Mixed media on metal, A series of two, 40 × 40 cm each When working with games, such as my 2D visual novel game Caves, my process becomes more curatorial. I generate a large volume of AI-produced images, then select and categorize them, pairing them with text and narrative fragments. Meaning emerges through this process of selection, association, and sequencing rather than from a fixed plan.
For installations, I usually begin with a rough draft, but the work evolves through discussions with technicians with technical considerations. The final outcome often differs from the original idea.

1, a solo exhibiton by Ailsa Wong at DE SARTHE What projects are you currently working on, and what can we expect from you in the future?
I am currently developing a new game project that draws on research into cosmology, archaeology, and paleontology, as well as creation myths from Eastern and Western traditions. I’m interested in exploring how ancient narratives about the origin of the world can be reinterpreted through contemporary digital systems through this project.
Looking ahead, I plan to keep working across different media and continue to develop my research around virtual worlds as inner landscapes, artificial intelligence as a form of collective consciousness, and techno-animism.
Text & photo courtesy of Ailsa Wong

Website: https://ailsaw.com/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ailsa.ww/
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Tang Contemporary Art Presents Group Exhibition: Tracing Places, Weaving Times

Poster credit: Tang Contemporary Art Tang Contemporary Art presents Tracing Places, Weaving Times, curated by Cynthia Liu and Terry Chong, on exhibit from 17 January 2026 – 1 March 2026, in Bangkok. This group exhibition brings together three Thai artists—Sornchai Pongsa, Butsapasila Wanjing, and Amalapon Robinson—whose practices explore how identity is formed at the intersection of place, culture, and memory.
Whether bridging rural borderlands and urban density or myth and lived reality, the exhibition offers a multilayered portrait of Thailand as experienced through the next generation of artists born between the 1990s and 2000s. Moving between the past and the present, between the personal and the collective, the exhibition invites viewers to consider how Thailand’s many stories are carried, reshaped, and reimagined across generations.
Across Thailand’s diverse regions, cultural identities emerge not only from formal histories but from the intimate details of daily life—traditions passed on quietly, stories shared casually, materials handled out of habit and necessity. These nuances, often invisible from the outside, form the true texture of the Thai identity. Grounded in this idea, the featured artists draw from the spaces they grew up in—mountainous borders, northern villages, Bangkok’s layered urban sprawl—yet render their memories through contemporary visual languages. Each distinct, yet interconnected, their practices echo, diverge, and intersect, forming an open-ended narrative about belonging, change, and continuity. Together, they present Thailand not as a single story but as a complex and evolving constellation of histories, ethnicities, and lived realities.

Sornchai Pongsa, Ritual Laborers, 2026, Stainless steel sheet, transparent nylon line, stainless steel objects, 120 x 120 cm Sornchai Pongsa: Diaspora, Displacement, Becoming
Hailing from a Mon community along Thailand’s Western border, Sornchai Pongsa’s work emerges from a lived experience shaped by cultural inheritance, displacement, and adaptation. His conceptual practice draws on the intertwined history of his family and people—stories marked by movement, negotiation, and survival. Drawing from familial stories, local histories, and the complexities of modern existence, Sornchai’s pieces evoke a sense of loss and adaptation, yet also resilience and redefinition. Through powerful visual forms and mixed media artworks, he captures the simultaneous ache for what is left behind and the urgency to forge new identities and preservation of traditions in unfamiliar landscapes. His pieces become vessels for memory—at once fragile and forceful—inviting viewers to witness the multi-layered experience of diaspora within the Thai context.
Building on his earlier work Mon Spirits Totem (2016), Pongsa presents a technologically infused meditation on “statelessness,” conceptualizing the body and territory as absent hardware and the spirit as enduring software. Through ethereal installations of suspended structures and volumes of light, he visualizes the migration of identity from the physical to the metaphysical, raising profound questions about the persistence of ritual and belief in a digitized era. His work emphasizes both loss and adaptation, showing how cultural memory endures even when physical borders are absent.

Butsapasila Wanjing, Welcome Drink, 2026, Oil on canvas, 40 x 60 cm Butsapasila Wanjing: Memory, Myth, and the Remaking of History
Butsapasila Wanjing approaches memory as something formed not only through official histories but through the informal stories embedded in everyday life. His practice draws from Lanna culture, folkloric and mystical beliefs, childhood memories of Chiang Mai, and raw materials collected from the northern landscapes he grew up in. His works—textured, layered, and enigmatic—entice viewers to look closer, searching for traces of narratives that have been transformed, suppressed, or forgotten.
A central focus of his recent work is the rewriting of historical memory spaces. Butsapasila’s exploration extends beyond Thailand’s borders. His exploration of overland trade routes examines the longstanding cultural and economic relationships between Thailand and mainland China. From ancient exchanges of goods and knowledge along the Tea Horse Road—glazed ceramics, tea-making traditions, the role of horses—to their later integration into the vast Silk Road network, he traces how these routes shaped communal life in the borderlands.
In the present, he observes how the Belt and Road Initiative has reshaped these ancient corridors into pathways of capital, cross-border investment, and sometimes illicit or informal economies. What were once routes of cultural circulation have become sites where geopolitical power is contested and negotiated. Through paintings and mixed-media presentations, Butsapasila renders these overlapping histories visible—revealing the delicate interplay between memory, state power, regional identity, and the shifting forces that continue to shape northern Thailand.

Amalapon Robinson, Chinatown, 2026, Oil on canvas, 100 x 100 cm Amalapon Robinson: Urban Light, Inner Loneliness
In contrast to the northern landscapes and border narratives of Sornchai and Butsapasila, Amalapon Robinson turns her gaze toward the dense urban rhythms of Bangkok—a city of constant illumination. Growing up between two cultures, Amalapon investigates identity and belonging within a metropolis defined by artificial light. Her hauntingly beautiful oil paintings capture intimate domestic scenes and everyday urban moments, using the interplay of radiance and shadow to reflect the emotional undercurrents of city life.
In her work, light becomes both a physical necessity and a metaphor for searching—searching for connection, clarity, or simply a sense of place amid the city’s overwhelming glare. While there is always light in darkness, Amalapon reveals how urban brightness can coexist with profound loneliness. Her paintings resonate with quiet intensity, suggesting that in a world saturated with illumination, the most meaningful forms of luminosity may be internal.
Together, these three artists illustrate the many ways Thai identity is shaped—by geography, by memory, by generations of cultural inheritance, and by the changing landscapes of modern life. Their works bridge past and present, local and national, rural and urban, inviting viewers to consider how individual stories intersect to form a broader cultural tapestry.
Tracing Places, Weaving Times does not offer a singular definition of Thai identity. Instead, it opens a space for reflection—on where we come from, what we carry, and how our surroundings continually shape who we are becoming. Through the perspectives of the next generation of Thai artists, the exhibition presents the Thai experience as a place of layered histories, evolving cultures, and rich, interconnected experiences.
Venue
Tang Contemporary Art BangkokArtists
Sornchai Phongsa, Butsapasila Wanjing, Amalapon RobinsonExhibtion Dates
17 January – 1 March, 2026Gallery Hours
Tuesday – Sunday | 11 AM – 7 PMWebsite
https://www.tangcontemporary.comInstagram
https://www.instagram.com/tangcontemporaryart/Contact
bkk@tangcontemporary.comAbout the Artists

SORNCHAI PHONGSA
b. 1991, Thailand
Sornchai Phongsa was born and raised within the Mon ethnic community in Thailand, an upbringing that shaped his engagement with migration, displacement, and hybrid identities in Southeast Asia. Drawing on his heritage and academic training and having graduated from Silpakorn University with a BFA in 2015 and an MFA in 2017, Phongsa develops a visual language that interweaves personal memory, collective history, and socio-political narratives.
Working across installation and mixed-media, he employs vernacular materials and performative spatial strategies to recontextualize spiritual traditions and interrogate the politics of belonging and territory. Key projects include Mon’s Spirits Totem (Bangkok Art and Culture Centre, 2017), Montopia (Cité Internationale des Arts, Paris, 2018), Le Flash (École nationale supérieure des Beaux-Arts, Paris, 2018), and Alien Capital for the Bangkok Art Biennale (2018).
Phongsa has participated in residencies at Tokyo Arts and Space and Cité Internationale des Arts, with works presented in exhibitions including Dogma Yard (Gallery Seescape, Chiang Mai) and MythMakers—Spectrosynthesis III 神話製造者——光.合作用 III (Tai Kwun Contemporary, Hong Kong, 2023).
In 2025, he presented his solo exhibition Diaspora at River City Bangkok, investigating displacement and hybrid identities among marginalized communities. He continues to develop research-driven projects exploring memory, migration, and the shifting cartographies of place and identity, extending his critical engagement with contemporary social and cultural transformations.

BUTSAPASILA WANJING
b. 2000, Chiang Mai, Thailand
Butsapasila Wanjing graduated from Silpakorn University in 2022 with a Bachelor’s of Fine Arts. His work delves into the historical and cultural landscapes of Thailand, addressing political, social, and environmental themes.
Butsapasila is interested in the processes through which collective memory of the past transforms over time, leaving traces and effects that persist into the present. His practice draws on diverse sources, including historical narratives shaped by conspiracy theories found in blogs and online media, supernatural beliefs transmitted through oral traditions, and local myths and fragmented histories that cannot be fully integrated into dominant, centralized historical narratives.
By also examining personal memory, he seeks to connect individual experience with broader social and cultural dynamics, reflecting on how the past is continually reinterpreted from multiple perspectives in the present and how these shifting understandings shape contemporary perceptions of history and identity.

AMALAPON ROBINSON
b. 1995, USA
Born 1995, Thai-American artist, Amalapon Robinson graduated from Silpakorn University in 2019. She has exhibited in group exhibitions in Thailand, at VS Gallery, Bangkok Art and Culture Centre, and Silapakorn University. Working primarily in oil painting, her practice explores quiet emotional landscapes within urban night scenes, with a focus on artificial light from windows, street lamps, and interior spaces.
Raised in an apartment in Bangkok, Amalapon draws from long-term observation of dense urban environments. Her paintings often emerge from moments of looking at the city from a distance, through windows or during night-time travel where artificial light becomes a symbol of living and working, carrying traces of life, hope, and dreams within the city. Through muted palettes and softened contrasts, her work captures a sense of calm and stillness embedded in ordinary, often overlooked urban spaces.
Amalapon explores the interactions between light and darkness – investigating how we use and engage with artificial lights in our everyday lives, and how urban society is dependent on this use of light. Though there is light in darkness physically, living in a city can result in a feeling of loneliness and isolation. This juxtaposition between the physical use of light and its metaphorical meaning is represented in her works, as she seeks more luminosity within the city.
About Tang Contemporary Art
Since its founding in Bangkok in 1997, Tang Contemporary Art has opened 8 spaces in Beijing, Hong Kong, Bangkok, Seoul and Singapore to promote the development of experimental art in different regions. In the past 28 years, Tang Contemporary Art has organized groundbreaking exhibitions in its gallery spaces, and also cooperated with important art institutions in China and abroad to accomplish outstanding art projects. The gallery strives to initiate dialogue between artists, curators, collectors and institutions working both locally and internationally. A roster of groundbreaking exhibitions has earned Tang Contemporary Art internationally renowned recognition, establishing its status as a pioneer of the contemporary art scene in Asia.
As one of China’s most influential contemporary art platforms, Tang Contemporary Art maintains a high standard of exhibition programming. Tang Contemporary Art represents or collaborates with leading figures in international contemporary art, including Ai Weiwei, Huang Yongping, Shen Yuan, Zhu Jinshi, Chen Danqing, Liu Qinghe, Liu Xiaodong, Chen Shaoxiong, Wang Yuping, Shen Ling, Shen Liang, Wu Yi, Xia Xiaowan, He Duoling, Mao Xuhui, Wang Huangsheng, Yang Jiechang, Tan Ping, Wang Du,Yan Lei, Yue Minjun, Wang Jianwei, Yangjiang Group, Zheng Guogu, Lin Yilin, Sun Yuan&Peng Yu, Qin Ga, Wang Qingsong, Yin Zhaoyang, Feng Yan, Guo Wei, Chen Wenbo, Ling Jian, Qin Qi, Yang Yong, Peng Wei, He An, Zhao Zhao, Xu Qu, Chen Yujun, Chen Yufan, Xue Feng, Cai Lei, Li Qing, Wang Sishun, Xu Xiaoguo, Lí Wei, Liu Yujia, Wu Wei, Yang Bodu, You Yong, Li Erpeng, Jade Ching-yuk Ng, Michelangelo Pistoletto, Adel Abdessemed, Niki de Saint Phalle, AES+F , Michael Zelehosk, Jonas Burgert, Christian Lemmerz, Michael Kvium, Sakarin Krue-On, Rirkrit Tiravanija, Natee Utarit, Kitti Narod, Gongkan, Entang Wiharso, Heri Dono, Nam June Paik, Park Seungmo, Jae Yong Kim, Diren Lee, Dinh Q. Lê, Rodel Tapaya, Jigger Cruz, Ayka Go, Raffy Napay, H.H.Lim, Etsu Egami, etc.
(Text and images courtesy of Tang Contemporary Art)
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Listening to the Now: Eight Artists Reframing Asian Contemporary Art in 2025

In the slow unfolding of 2025, the contemporary art landscape revealed itself through a constellation of practices that pushed, pulled, and reimagined the boundaries of form, material, and lived experience. Within the evolving ecology of Asian contemporary art, this year unfolded as a site of negotiation between inherited histories and speculative futures, between localized knowledge and global circulation. Rather than a singular movement, 2025 revealed an attentiveness to multiplicity, where artists moved fluidly across geographies while remaining deeply tethered to place, lineage, and lived context.
Below are eight artists who have shaped the trajectory of contemporary Asian art in 2025. Working across sculpture, painting, ceramics, sound, and hybrid modes, each bringing a distinct language to bear on the relevant issues that weighed on us all this year. What binds them is not a singular aesthetic but a shared insistence on art as a space of reflection, rupture, and renewal.

GWON Osang, Reclining Figure-Watch, 2022-2023, Archival pigment print, mixed media, 192 x 52 x 88 cm, ⓒ GWON Osang. Courtesy of the Artist and Arario Gallery GWON Osang
Seoul-based sculptor GWON Osang continues a decades-long inquiry into what sculpture might become when unshackled from its own traditions. Across his ongoing series, Deodorant Type, The Sculpture, New Structure, and Relief, Osang dissolves the weightiness of classical materiality, replacing it with photographic skin and aluminum frameworks that gesture toward both surface and depth. Within the lineage of postwar Korean sculpture, marked by both material rigor and conceptual restraint, Osang’s practice stands apart for its insistence on hybridity and illusion. In 2025, his work appeared in group exhibitions at institutions like Arko Art Center in Seoul, a year-long collaborative project with Roy Gallery’s new venue PS ROY in Seoul, and was featured at Art Busan with ARARIO Gallery, which has been central to his international representation. Osang’s practice persists in its quiet destabilization of expectations, inviting viewers to feel the present age through the “margin” of sculpture itself.

Kawita Vatanajyankur, The Machine Ghost in the Human Shell, 4K Video and Holographic installation, 2024 Kawita Vatanajyankur
Media and performance artist Kawita Vatanajyankur expanded her practice this year into immersive projects that probe the systemic forces shaping labor and the body. Rooted in global capitalism’s unseen mechanisms, the Bangkok-based artist’s ongoing series, such as Performing Textiles and Field Work, alongside new 2025 works like Flight and Echoes, give form to the often invisible lives entangled in production, exploitation, and ecological collapse. Her work resonates strongly within Southeast Asia’s artistic landscape, where questions of labor, gender, and extractive economies are deeply embedded in everyday life. Vatanajyankur’s projects traveled widely in 2025, engaging public consciousness through collaborations with technologists, activists, and researchers. These conversations inspired curators to include her work in exhibitions across Asia and beyond, including Believe in a River at Guangdong’s Hengqin Cultural and Art Center and Protest is a Creative Act at the Museum of Australian Photography. These developments signal a growing institutional recognition of performance-based practices emerging from the region, culminating in preparations for her upcoming solo exhibition at Shanghai’s Yuz Museum in 2026.

Quan Lim, Stony Sleep, 2025, Oil on canvas, 121.9 x 152.4 cm, Courtesy of the artist and Cuturi Gallery, Singapore Quan Lim
In Singapore, painter Quan Lim emerged in 2025 with The Flood, a major solo exhibition of a new body of work at Cuturi Gallery in Singapore that deepened his interrogation of identity, myth, and narrative fragmentation. Using layered, gestural surfaces and figurative fragments drawn from art history, mythology, and everyday life, Lim’s work inhabits moments of rupture where memory and history collide, where storytelling becomes a way of understanding the self and others. Operating within Singapore’s tightly calibrated cultural ecosystem, Lim’s practice opens space for ambiguity, emotion, and dissent. His paintings this year, dense with allegory and dissonance, reflect a practice attuned to the instability of existence, conveyed through richly textured canvases that resist easy resolution.

Sun Yitian, Storm, 2025, Acrylic on canvas, 205.4 x 158.4 cm, Courtesy the artist and Esther Schipper, Berlin/Paris/Seoul, Photo © Andrea Rossetti Sun Yitian
Sun Yitian is a Beijing-based painter who continued her ascent this year. Her highly detailed depictions of quotidian objects turn toward ever more expansive explorations of desire, commodity, and cultural imagination. Known for hyper-real surfaces that oscillate between seduction and unease, Yitian’s works engage the deep structures of consumer society while reflecting personal history and collective nostalgia. Her 2025 exhibitions, including The Life of Things at Museum Voorlinden in The Hague, As She Descends with Qinhuangdao’s Aranya Art Center, and a solo show Romantic Room at Esther Schipper Gallery’s Berlin space, underscore how artists from China continue to navigate global visibility while retaining a sharp critique of spectacle and excess. This year reinforced her international profile and demonstrated her remarkable ability to render “thingness” itself into a language of the psychological with new, personally resonating depths for the artist.

Dae Uk Kim, NORI totem, 2023, Synthetic hair, color rope, Dimensions variable, © Hyundai Motor Company Dae Uk Kim
Based in Eindhoven, sculptor and storyteller Dae Uk Kim’s practice is a testament to the power of form to articulate the diverse narratives of identity and body politics. Kim weaves personal history with broader ecological and social registers, transforming materials like synthetic hair, ropes, and hybrid forms into embodiments of lived multiplicity. As a Korean artist working across Europe and Asia, Kim’s work reflects a diasporic condition increasingly visible in contemporary Asian art. In 2025, his practice broadened through collaborations with artists and brands alongside public dialogues that animate sculpture as an exchange between body, memory, and environment. His work had been exhibited in shows including Can the Monster Speak? with Delft’s RADIUS CCA, Check In, the Forgotten Guest at Gallery Remicon in Jeju, South Korea, The Tail by Maison the Fuax hosted by Framer Framed in Amsterdam, Fragments of Form at DOEN in Rotterdam, The Body Project presented in Munich, and a solo show with OSISUN in Seoul titled Grandma’s Cabinet. Kim’s work resonates as both introspective and outward-facing, with larger steps towards collective dialogues this year and anticipatory projects that extend beyond the field of sculpture into immersive, interdisciplinary presentations in the future.

Lisa Chang Lee, World Atlas No.7, 2024, A series of 10 collages combining analog photographs, textiles, pencil drawing, vintage notebook, mapping pins, cutouts from World Atlas, and Post-it stickers, 55 × 70 cm each Lisa Chang Lee
Working between London and Beijing, Lisa Chang Lee’s interdisciplinary practice this year spanned across sound, ecology, language, and technology. Through field research, installation, and AI-informed processes, her work examines listening as a political and poetic act, attuning audiences to the subtle interdependencies that shape environments and histories. Positioned within broader conversations around environmental degradation and knowledge systems in East Asia, her practice foregrounds care, slowness, and relationality. A founder of the ongoing research platform South of the Sea, Chang Lee’s projects in 2025 spanned institutional exhibitions and ecological storytelling frameworks that emphasize indigenous knowledge and collective listening. A selection of her recent projects was on view this year at the He Xiangning Museum of Art, followed by the Guangzhou Image Triennial and, in 2027, at the Beijing Art, Science, and Technology Biennale. Her work continually foregrounds the entanglement of place, memory, and perception, leveraging her research and interdisciplinary collaborations to ask us to consider how art might become a medium of care.

Takuma Uematsu, SCULPTOR’S SNACK, 2025, Tin can, corn kernels , 11.3 x 7.6 x 7.6 cm, Open editon © Takuma Uematsu, Courtesy of Yumiko Chiba Associates Takuma Uematsu
Building upon the Fluxus-inspired playfulness and philosophical curiosity that have guided him for decades, Osaka-based artist Takuma Uematsu embraced his move to embody energy and coincidence in his practice this year. Through sculpture, installation, and relational works, Uematsu explores boundaries between object, viewer, and environment, privileging encounter over completion. His practice occupies a unique position within Japanese contemporary art, where humor and conceptual rigor coexist as modes of quiet resistance. His 2025 project, The Sculptor’s Snack, considered the dynamics of everyday materials and communal experience, inviting laughter, reflection, and dialogue, and was presented as part of the WE THE DAY exhibition at the OAG Art Center Kobe.

Yin-chen Li, View from the bottom No. 12, 2024, Ceramic with copper, tin, acrylic frame, 39.2 x 31.2 x 4.6 cm, Photo credit: Tu Yue-shiuan Yin-chen Li
In Taipei, Yin-chen Li’s ceramics practice this year advanced an intimate inquiry into perception, psyche, and material responsiveness. Blending gestural mark-making with the unpredictable nature of clay and firing processes, Li’s work captures fracture, displacement, and fusion as metaphors for relational dynamics between viewer and form, interior and exterior, control and chance. Within the context of contemporary Taiwanese ceramics, her practice bridges craft lineage and conceptual abstraction. Each piece operates as both trace and threshold, inviting viewers into an active encounter with material embodiment. Her work was presented as part of the Piecing Landscapes: Experience in Layers at Gallery Unfold in Kyoto, featured in the Art Osaka 2025 contemporary art fair, in a solo exhibition titled Next Art Tainan: Hidden Sea at SOKA Arts, and was the Tainan New Arts Award winner.
Across these eight practices, 2025 witnessed art that was simultaneously rigorous and tender. Their work held contradictions without dissolving them, which honored both form and fugitive experience. Seen together, these artists offer a snapshot of contemporary Asian art as a field defined not by uniformity, but by complexity, one shaped by migration, memory, and material consciousness. Whether through the layered narratives of paint, the corporeal provocations of performance and video, the sculptural interchanges of material and identity, or the resonant listening evoked by sound and ecology, this year in contemporary art affirmed a generative possibility: that art’s deepest work remains its capacity to hold us in reflection, and in reflection, to invite transformation.
Review by Shannon Permenter
Shannon Permenter is a freelance writer and art historian based in Arizona. After completing her Masters in History & Theory of Contemporary Art from the San Francisco Art Institute she has channeled her passion for the arts into a career helping artists, curators, and nonprofits share their work with the world.
Interviews with Asian Art Contemporary
- GWON Osang: https://asianartcontemporary.com/2025/09/05/interview-seoul-based-artist-gwon-osang/
- Kawita Vatanajyankur: https://asianartcontemporary.com/2025/03/03/interview-bangkok-based-artist-kawita-vatanajyankur/
- Quan Lim: https://asianartcontemporary.com/2025/11/04/interview-singapore-based-artist-quan-lim/
- Sun Yitian: https://asianartcontemporary.com/2025/06/23/interview-beijing-based-artist-sun-yitian/
- Dae Uk Kim: https://asianartcontemporary.com/2025/11/18/interview-eindhoven-based-artist-dae-uk-kim/
- Lisa Chang Lee: https://asianartcontemporary.com/2025/07/15/interview-london-and-beijing-based-artist-lisa-chang-lee/
- Takuma Uematsu: https://asianartcontemporary.com/2025/08/13/interview-osaka-based-artist-takuma-uematsu/
- Yin-chen Li: https://asianartcontemporary.com/2025/06/26/interview-taipei-based-artist-yin-chen-li/
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Interview | Hong Kong and London-based Artist Yvonne Feng
Yvonne Feng (b.1989) lives and works between Hong Kong and London. She completed her MA at the Royal College of Art in 2014 and her practice-led PhD, Tracing the Unspeakable: Painting as Embodied Seeing, at the Slade School of Fine Art, UCL, in 2020. She is an Associate Lecturer at Camberwell College of Arts, UAL, and formerly Senior Lecturer in Fine Art Painting at the University of Brighton.
In her painting practice, Feng takes possession of life and societal events, infusing them with her own imaginary and subjective experiences. Through playful experimentation with figural forms and painterly gestures, she searches for representations that defy singular narratives and predefined meanings of events, making visible the intricate human condition within the midst of these occurrences.
Feng received the William Coldstream Memorial Prize (2017) from the UCL Art Museum and the Excellence in Drawing Award (2015) from The Arts Club. She has exhibited internationally, including at Goethe-Gallery, Hong Kong; HART Haus, Hong Kong; The Supper Club with HART Haus, Hong Kong; Rabbet Gallery, London; The Salon by NADA & The Community with Current Plans, Paris; The Koppel Project, London; Daniel Benjamin Gallery, London; A.P.T Gallery, London; and the Freud Museum, London, among others. Her work is held in the UCL Art Museum Collection and various private collections worldwide.
Impulse, 2025, Acrylic and oil on canvas, 160 x 200 cm, Courtesy of the artist Can you tell us about your background and how you started your artistic journey?
I was born in Guangdong, China and moved to Kent, UK in my teens. Growing up, I didn’t see “artist” as a real profession, since there were no museums or art scene in my hometown, but I always found myself drawn to the school art room. It became a place where I could breathe, a refuge from the rigid, academically focused curriculum of Chinese schooling, and a space where I could create and express myself.
Following that instinct, I went on to study Fine Art at the Slade School of Fine Art, UCL. During my undergraduate years in London, I immersed myself in museums and galleries, seeing art in person for the first time and learning art history and contemporary practice
from tutors, visiting artists and peers. I absorbed everything like a sponge, trying to discover my own voice as an artist.
During my Master’s studies at the Royal College of Art, the sudden incarceration of a family member became a turning point. I felt an urgent need to process, question and find my agency through drawing, painting and writing. That experience solidified my commitment to art making as a way of thinking through life events and as a form of self- empowerment.
Index of Lost Words, 2024, Acrylic and oil on canvas, 50 x 60 cm, Courtesy of the artist What are the main themes or concepts you explore in your work?
My recent work explores the notion of ‘Docile Bodies’ in a trilogy of exhibitions that approaches the theme through barrier, gesture and sight. Through a synthesis of bodily symbolism, pandemic-inflected motifs and fluid painterly gestures, I probe embodied memory and the ongoing negotiation between control and agency. I set up the canvas as a stage, incorporating symbolic boundaries and confined spaces that become a backdrop for contemplating how bodies conform to or resist predetermined rules, structures and restrictions. In doing so, I explore the intricate entanglement between the body and the spaces it inhabits.
The imaginary figure or the recurring motif of the hand, bare or gloved, serving as a performative agent, for negotiating the inextricable relationships between the individual and the external crisis, the inner self and the collective, navigating the thresholds between
self‐indulgence and restraint, autonomy and authority, performing a delicate choreography of mutual regulation. By situating the body in familiar yet dislocated environments, or by embodying existentially entrapped situations, I question whether the body is controlled or autonomous, disciplined or free.
Exhibition view of Möbius Loop (2025), Courtesy of the artist and HART Haus How has your artistic style evolved over time?
The style of my work has evolved in response to my ongoing search for communicative and representational strategies, especially as the themes I explore shift over time. I am constantly looking for new ways to represent past events that have become overly familiar through mediated images, sometimes so familiar that we stop questioning them or feeling anything toward them. I seek forms and gestures that can evoke shifting, ambiguous meanings and hold multiple layers of reference. As a result, one series may focus more on bodily gestures, while another leans into symbolism.
What remains consistent is the presence of drawn and bodily elements. My process always begins with drawing, drawing receptively. The body is not only a recurring motif but also a medium I paint with. Through it, I allow its imaginary contours to open up, and I experience, in a corporeal way, the pains, pleasures and struggles of both myself and others.
Mobius Loop, 2023, Oil on canvas, 180 x 100 cm, Courtesy of the artist In what ways do you think the art world has changed since you started your career?
The art world has become more inclusive and globally interconnected since I began my career. When I was an undergraduate student, I encountered very few Asian tutors, and it was rare to see exhibitions by Asian women artists in London. I am glad to see that the landscape has diversified, and I feel honoured to have worked as a lecturer myself, witnessing students from many cultural backgrounds having their work exhibited and recognised.In the summer of 2024, I began working between Hong Kong and London. I have been struck by how vibrant the Hong Kong art scene is, from international galleries to grassroots project spaces. I once believed I needed to be in major art centres like London to build a career as an artist. London still offers a great deal, but places like Hong Kong are thriving too. Being there has opened up new conversations with audiences and allowed me to reconnect with my heritage in meaningful ways.

Automation, 2022, Oil on canvas, 150 x 150 cm, Courtesy of the artist What challenges have you faced as an artist, and how have you overcome them?
It often takes a long time to turn ideas into artworks and then have the opportunity to exhibit them. I remind myself to trust my intuition and to have faith in myself and the work.How do you stay inspired and motivated to create new work?
I stay inspired by seeing exhibitions that intrigue me and by staying attentive to what is happening socially and politically around me. I question what I see, what remains unspoken or is forced into forgetting, and I seek out shared feelings and memories.Text & photo courtesy of Yvonne Feng

Website: https://www.yvonne-yiwen-feng.com/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/yvonne.ywfeng/
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Interview | Beijing and Shanghai-based Artist Dongbay (Yübo Xü)
Dongbay (Yübo Xü) is an artist and eco-warrior based between Beijing and Shanghai. Born in the Northeast of China and shaped by a nomadic upbringing, his practice explores humanity’s fading connection to nature amid accelerating industrial and digital transformation. Through installations, films, and writing, he combines organic materials with urban detritus, developing concepts such as primitive futurism and ritual minimalism to examine how ecological wisdom can be reimagined in the Anthropocene.

髡锁 Quene Locks, 2023, Recycled animal materials and mixed media, 250 x 200 x100 cm Can you tell us about your background and how you started your artistic journey?
I was born in an industrial town in Northeast China, a place where wetlands, oil rigs, and machinery existed in the same breath. My family moved frequently, shaping my relationship with land as something fluid rather than fixed. This nomadic rhythm became the foundation of my artistic practice.
My path into art did not begin with theory; it began with daily life. I grew up observing the streets, the people, and the shifting landscapes around me, and I started creating simply out of an instinct to respond to what I saw. Graffiti, drawing, and small interventions in public space were my earliest forms of expression, long before I had the language to describe why I was making them.
Over time, these intuitive practices became a doorway into deeper questions. The environments I moved through, industrial relics, expanding cities, and later, remote regions during fieldwork, made me aware of how quickly our connection to land and non-human life was disappearing. What began as a personal habit of looking gradually evolved into a more serious inquiry into ecology, belief, and the emotional cost of modernization.
Today, my installations, films, and field-based projects continue to grow out of this mixture of lived experience, street-level observation, and long-term research into how humans navigate the Anthropocene.

髡锁 Quene Locks, 2023, Recycled animal materials and mixed media, 250 x 200 x100 cm What are the main themes or concepts you explore in your work?
My work revolves around two guiding concepts: primitive futurism and ritual minimalism.
Primitive futurism imagines a world where ancient intuition and modern systems coexist, where mythology and technology are not opposites but parallel forms of ecological memory. Ritual minimalism strips away excess narrative to restore a sense of spiritual density in contemporary art.
More broadly, I examine themes of ecological rupture, industrial debris, spiritual displacement, material reincarnation, and the fading ability of humans to perceive the non-human world. My installations become a space where the synthetic and the organic collide, forcing us to rethink coexistence in an era of crisis.

Synth Totem, 2024, Recycled animal materials and mixed media, 280 x 250 x 80 cm How do your personal experiences and identity influence your art?
My identity is shaped by migration, industrial landscapes, and long-term fieldwork in different ecological communities. Growing up in rapidly changing oil towns taught me that land is alive, which is volatile, resilient, and wounded.
This background makes me sensitive to environments where the connection between land and life is disappearing. I spend extended periods living in remote or peripheral regions, learning from people whose ecological wisdom still survives modernization. These lived experiences, not documentation, become the emotional and structural logic of my work.
Rather than positioning myself above the material, I approach creation as a collaboration with land, memory, and the overlooked. The “eco-warrior” aspect of my identity is not a statement but a responsibility I carry into the work.

Synth Totem, 2024, Recycled skateboard trucks and mixed media, 280 x 120 x 6 cm Are there any specific materials you prefer working with in your installation work? Why?
I often work with recycled industrial waste, like steel cables, electrical wires, skateboard trucks, and recycled organic remnants such as animal hides, bones, and human hair.
These materials are embedded with stories of exploitation, abandonment, and resilience. Industrial debris carries the imprint of overproduction; animal hides salvaged from poaching reflect ecological violence; human hair connects the work back to the body.
By weaving these fragments together, I create hybrid structures, part creature, part relic, that embody both decay and rebirth. Using what has been discarded allows the work to become a form of alchemy, transforming residues of destruction into carriers of new meaning.

Goddess Who Sells Time, 2025, Recycled animal skins and mixed media, 350 x 200 x 180 cm Can you describe a recent project or artwork that you are particularly proud of?
A recent project I am developing is Goddess Who Sells Time, an installation shaped by my field research in India, especially in environments where caste, labor, and belief intersect. The work draws from the symbolism of Chhinnamasta, reinterpreting her cycle of creation, preservation, and destruction as a contemporary logic of self-exposure and resistance.
The installation uses local bamboo scaffolding, recycled animal hides, industrial debris, and regional calendar pages, materials deeply tied to everyday survival in lower-caste communities. The Trinity Puzzle section incorporates blue Dalit-associated text fragments arranged in scrambled sequences, requiring viewers to “spend time” reconstructing meaning. This reading process becomes a quiet act of confronting the social cycles that structure caste hierarchies.
Rather than representing a single encounter, the work reflects the broader political and spiritual tensions I observed on-site. It is both a ritual structure and a social commentary, exploring how marginalized groups sustain belief, dignity, and resistance within systems that attempt to contain them.

Goddess Who Sells Time, 2025, Recycled animal skins and mixed media, 350 x 200 x 180 cm What do you hope people take away from your art when they experience it?
I hope my work slows people down, just enough for them to sense the nearly imperceptible rhythms that still exist beneath the noise of modern life.
I am not offering solutions or nostalgia. Instead, I create openings where viewers can feel the tension between decay and vitality, between the synthetic and the natural, between technology and myth.
If people walk away with a renewed awareness, an understanding that coexistence requires reciprocity rather than control, then the work has done its job. Ultimately, I want my works to reactivate a form of ecological perception that our era is rapidly losing.
Text & photo courtesy of Dongbay (Yübo Xü)

Website: https://totemdongbay.com/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/totemdongbay/
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Interview | Hong Kong-based Artist Xie Chengxuan
Xie Chengxuan, born in Guangzhou in 1997, graduated from the Department of Fine Arts at the Chinese University of Hong Kong in 2020 and completed an MA in Painting at the Royal College of Art, London, in 2023.
He works primarily in acrylic and mixed media on canvases and papers. His practice is grounded in deconstruction: objects are reduced to their elementary visual units—points, lines, planes, colour blocks, textures— then reassembled. Because each viewer’s cultural and personal lexicon differs, the resulting images resist a single reading. The independent elements continue to interact in the finished work, keeping the surface in unresolved dialogue.
The act of painting is digestion. Influences—political, social, intimate—are taken in, broken apart, and reconstituted through repeated returns to the canvas. Each layer records a shift in thought; closure is refused. Prettiness is avoided; the visible struggle is the point.
Works by Xie Chengxuan are held by the Ashmolean Museum (Oxford), Shanghai Outbound Museum, X Museum (Beijing), and private collections.

Jump Ship, 2025, Acrylic charcoal on canvas, 100 x 80 cm Can you tell us about your background and how you started your artistic journey?
Two kindergartens, three primary schools, two secondary schools. Guangzhou, Auckland, Hong Kong. Art degree at the Chinese University of Hong Kong. A year in South Carolina. Painting master’s at the Royal College of Art.
My mother was pregnant with my brother when the one-child rule said no. We left for Auckland with four suitcases, one way. In school there, older kids read to younger ones after lunch. My reader liked pop-up books—dinosaurs jumped, houses opened. I waited for that moment every day. When it was my turn to read, I gave the same book to a white boy. He looked at me and said to his friend, “It’s a Chinese.” I didn’t know the word then, couldn’t even write it. Later they sent us back to Guangzhou to learn.
Now I see I never belonged anywhere—and that is good. Flags do not touch me.
At university, Hong Kong burned. The biggest revolt ever. We shouted in the streets—Chinese or Hong Konger—but my New Zealand self fit neither side. I wanted truth, found only noise. In the end, I kept one thing: I am human. That is all.
Why paint? Every move killed friendships before they began. There was no one to talk to, so paint talked for me. Loneliness makes artists. It made me.
Moving taught me to drop ideas fast. Better ones came, I took them. My first real start was a summer in Chongqing: sketching with teachers, copying masters, drawing the model, learning to look.
Copying is not copying—it is living inside another man’s hand. To know Picasso, I must stand where he stood. Many fear influence and guard a small self. But the self is only what it steals; I steal from the best.
Why keep painting? Because things stolen must be digested. Painting digests. You watch me digest—that is the picture.

The Rush, 2023, Mix media on synthetic paper, 62 x 78 cm What are the main themes or concepts you explore in your work?
Human nature. The phrase sounds empty, but I am sick of the post-Duchamp game of sticking clever labels on pictures. No human being is that simple, yet the world shoves us into tick-box lives. War news always comes in two slants; the only fact is that the slant shapes us.
Our job is to chew the slant and see what remains. That chewing is where human nature shows.
I wrestle on the canvas, and the scars of that wrestle become the picture. I look into war, then women’s rights, then children—more and more—but all are only carriers. I give no final verdict; I show the argument as the painting progresses. To paint war with planes and blood would be false—and an insult to the dead. The “human nature” I show is only mine.
Zen has taught me to be here, now. Walking meditation drops the destination; the walk itself is the point. In art, this means that the act of making must matter more than the finished thing. The process is the reflection on life.
Subjects? Private moments, public scandals, war, petty daily satire. Art must not float above life. Tied to life, it cannot repeat itself—human nature has too many faces.

Tinned Kiss: make the expiry date little longer, 2024, Mix media on canvas, 180 x 170 cm How has your artistic style evolved over time?
From the start, I distrusted the factory routine: sketch, fill, texture, finish. A nude model, two minutes of line—that is the picture. Later tracing and colouring only prettify and kill the sense.
Modernism forced every canvas to answer: not what you paint, but why you paint so, and what the act means. I was once asked, “Why is painting called painting?” The word keeps the gerund even as a noun. The picture is still arguing with itself.
Line, plane, and colour do not cooperate—they talk. The canvas stays unresolved because it mirrors the argument in the room. We move from A to B to C; the subject may shift—no matter. You do not remember every day of your life, yet every day has made you. A stroke now answers everything that ever touched me. Months later, a new thought arrives; I repaint, and the picture turns.
This endless argument is closer to how people actually are—full of doubt, revision, and contradiction.
Bruce Lee broke something open for me. Early on, I sketched outdoors, then turned sketches into studio pieces—a ladder aiming at an imagined end. But combat is give and take; a planned routine is not art. I tried to smash the ladder: workshops, rubbings from stone and bark, answering outdoor textures indoors. Soon I saw that this caught only the skin of things.
Lee said a punch is the whole space answering back—even the bird on the branch. Later, answers came from culture, family, history. Studying Derrida’s deconstruction welded all these answers into what I do now.

Childrenland III, 2024-2025, Mix media on canvas, 230 x 140 cm Can you describe a recent project or artwork that you are particularly proud of?
Every canvas gets everything I have. Larger ones take longer, grow denser, but I am not proud of any.
Take Childrenland III as an example. It looks at what birth-planning did to women. “Did to” already turns them into objects; the shame goes on.
On the left side: women in a birthing machine. One head is a transferred image of Guanyin, the female Bodhisattva. Below, the date of the one-child rule—when second pregnancies were dragged to abortion. On the right: red characters quote the Chairman, now urging three children. My mother said it was too raw and asked me to destroy it. I painted crosses instead, letting some words bleed through—another mark of the argument.
The same local offices that once hauled women to abort now knock on doors begging for babies. On the top left are two men’s heads; on the right, a giant hand toasting them with a glass. At the centre stands a woman stepped out of the machine, glaring at us. Beneath her are ghosts of earlier paintings—old arguments showing through.
The five Childrenland canvases grew together, back and forth. They began with war, moved to a children’s hospital bombed in Ukraine, then to child welfare, and finally to women. One argument, still moving.

After Party: Lan Kwai Fong, 2024, Mix media on canvas, 78 x 100 cm What role do you believe art plays in social and cultural change?
I stopped believing art can change society long ago. It may sting a few consciences or open a new window for some, but capital runs the show and art cannot touch it. We use art to ask where we fit in this machine.
Friends and I joke that artists are parasites. How many farmers, workers, and drivers must give their hours so one man who adds nothing to survival can smear paint—simply because he refuses to be a cog? The question is not what art changes, but why it is allowed a meaning bigger than bread.
Remember Eden: Adam and Eve were told not to eat the fruit. The serpent came, the bite, the sin. With free will, they were bound to eat sooner or later. God knew, yet gave the gift. Free will matters more than happiness. Painting on is the search for that bigger meaning.
Art may nudge culture a little, but only within the cage of politics and money. Tang poetry reached its peak when eighty percent of people were illiterate and poets were officials. Literacy had to wait until the Qing collapsed. Art history is the story of the few who had patrons. Their work echoed through centuries but barely brushed the lives of their own time. Art is not a lever for social engineering. Humanity is too tangled; art looks at the tangle, finding meaning or amusement.

Pool: Vest Girl, 2024, Mix media on canvas, 90 x 70 cm How do you approach exhibiting your work? What are your goals when showing your art in public spaces?
A good picture must strike the viewer—make them think, make them gasp, but always bring them back to what it is to be human. The best place is the studio: mess, coffee rings, the fight in plain sight. Studios are pigsties, canvases block the light—impractical, yet the rawest truth lives there. Still, a solo show comes closest.
Many painters find a trick, repeat it, and call it style. One glance at an art fair and you know the hand: money, yes; surprise, no.
My view is simple—stop making pretty pictures. In Chinese we say “zhuo”: clumsy, unpolished. Strip ornament, strip polish. Prettiness smells of fear of the buyer’s eye. Raw marks come closer to the plain self, therefore to plain humanity.
Painters who freeze a manner turn factory. Drop the chase for beauty and the whole scaffolding of “style” wobbles. Ugliness is revolt; revolt is motion.
In public, I want people to see how I meet the world—chew it, spit it back. I want them to watch me wrestle on one canvas until they see a man and think of themselves. If someone leaves my show and says, “That fellow is worth knowing,” I have done my job.
Text & photo courtesy of Xie Chengxuan

Website: https://www.xiechengxuan.com/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/artjx/
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Interview | Seoul-Based Artist Moon Mean
Moon Mean (b.1999) is a Seoul-based painter, whose works reconstruct large and small events that happen to him and his surroundings using materials of his own making. He prepares solid and light atypical blanks by layering macerated Hanji and paints on them with turbid pigments he calls metallic tempera. Like the moon hanging over a smudged horizon, the silhouette of the ceiling in his room at night with unknown time, the ripples in the river as someone else would have seen, scenes with no name or owner are slowly transformed by the artist’s hand into uneven images.
For him, reality is an opaque mass of too many superimpositions to grasp clearly. Fragments of images stored in his phone or glimpsed on social media overlap and intermingle in a foggy field of faded light, transforming them into abstractions. Flowing on the edges of painting and sometimes borrowing from sculpture and installation, Moon’s work questions the gap between reality and fiction, truth and misunderstanding, seeing and being.

Tomorrow no.6_Two steps back for one step forward, 2024, Black ink and metallic tempera on handmade paper, 178 x 90 x 20 cm, © Moon Mean Can you tell us about your background and how you started your artistic journey?
Honestly, I would say “by chance.”
Before I started my artistic career, I worked as a tattooist for about 5 years – this was the very first practice that led me to art. I entered university without much thought and was making works as class assignments. However, I gradually realized that what I was doing was more than just coursework.
I feel like I become genuinely myself when I’m working, and it is something that makes men feel alive more than anything else. Tattooing had also been one of the creative practices for me, but it had to involve “clients”, which became inherent constraints in my practice. Art-making, on the other hand, has been an affirmation to myself. It allowed me to work in a much freer and more self-directed way.
Though I’ve come this far by chance, looking back, the phrase “by chance” encapsulates the time I spent experiencing the difference between the two creative practices. Perhaps it was through that experience that I gained a clearer sense of direction and confidence in my path as an artist.

Tomorrow no.5_So that my work does not become a meaningless struggle, 2024, Black ink and metallic tempera on handmade paper,178 x 90 x 15 cm, © Moon Mean Are there any particular mediums you prefer working with? Why?
I’m drawn to the materiality and inherent logic of traditional mediums, such as painting and sculpture. These mediums, which rely on the involvement of the body, reveal the process of thinking through hand, and are therefore closely tied to the subjective experience of making—something I value deeply.
My approach to these kind of mediums also connects with how people view the artwork. I prefer viewers to move freely through space and experience the work at their own pace, rather than following a fixed point of view, narrative, or a flow of plot.
In my current practice, I work primarily with painting, but often borrow the methods of sculpture and installation to create paintings with volume.
Unlike conventional paintings, which presuppose a frontal point of view, my work allows observation from multiple, shifting perspectives—much like sculpture, where no single viewpoint dominates.For me, the practice of painting is not just about “painting”. It is a process through which thought unfolds and form takes shape. I move between the acts of painting and sculpting, allowing matter and image to exist on the same plane, coming together into a single, cohesive form. In this sense, I see myself not only as a painter but also as someone who treats images as one of those sculptural materials. This attitude toward the medium lies at the core of my work.

Tomorrow no.8_(Im)Possible, I guess, 2025, Black ink and metallic tempera on handmade paper,138 x 210 x 30 cm, © Moon Mean How has your artistic style evolved over time?
My first solo exhibition, Doesn’t matter though (2024), explored the tactile senses of skin using paper that I made by hand. The idea stemmed from my past experience within tattoo culture and my obsession with body images, and it was about a process of investigating the boundary between skin and surface.
The series (2023–2024) on the show initially began with sculptural works that reassembled fragments of my own and others’ bodies. As I continued working, however, I was drawn to the inherent qualities of paper itself—its texture, relief, and absorbency—and began expanding its possibilities into a painterly context. In that sense, it was a chance for me to break free from self-imposed limitations, and at the same time was an opportunity to expand my artistic practice as a whole.
As I concluded the series following the exhibition, I found out that the wooden canvas I had made were warping during production. In addressing this issue, I naturally began questioning the very structure of the support—the frame of the painting itself—which led me to carve and construct the supports by hand.
From there, my practice evolved toward what I now describe as the “standing shell.” These works explore ambiguous forms that exist as both painting and sculpture, both material and image—forms that stand upright on their own.

Konckin’ On Heaven’s Door, 2024, Black ink and metallic tempera on handmade paper, 65 x 50 cm, © Moon Mean, Courtesy of the artist and ThisWeekendRoom, Seoul Can you describe a recent project or artwork that you are particularly proud of?
I wouldn’t say it’s something I’m particularly proud of, but there is a series I’d like to introduce. It’s titled IMAGE HANDLING PRACTICE—as the name suggests, it’s a set of sketch-like studies that train my sensitivity in handling images.
Looking back, form has played a significant role in my practice. At various turning points, formal concerns have shaped the work, and material exploration has often served as its foundation. For that reason, I’m always careful not to let my practice remain at the level of purely material or formal experimentation.
To prevent the Tomorrow series—which physically takes the form of a “shell”—from ending up as something that looks convincing yet hollow, I work on IMAGE HANDLING PRACTICE in parallel, as a way to refine my sense of image-making as a painter. This series serves as both a form of ongoing training and a process of self-correction, helping me to build toward stronger, more grounded works. Furthermore, the IMAGE HANDLING PRACTICE sketches are conceived as a flexible structure that can be re-incorporated into my main working system, serving as a material that oscillates between image and matter.

IMAGE HANDLING PRACTICE 11, 2025, Black ink and metallic tempera on handmade paper, 43 x 39 cm,© Moon Mean How do you stay inspired and motivated to create new work?
I’m the kind of person who tends to have a lot on my mind, and perhaps because of that, I draw inspiration from a wide range of things.
Sometimes I find interesting points or a conceptual idea from a single sentence or a word, and at other times, inspiration comes from music—its melody, emotion, or lyrics. I also find new possibilities in small, fleeting moments of everyday life, and occasionally from scientific fields that seem far away from my work, such as relativity or string theory. At times, I start brainstorming from looking at certain social or cultural phenomena.
Although there are many different sources of inspiration, they ultimately end up on everyday life and human experience. Looking back, I think it all leads to a broader reflection on how I perceive and live within the world.
More specifically within the realm of visual art, I construct what I call a motif pool—a collection of diverse visual information.
It includes everything from scenes I’ve directly encountered to images imprinted on my retina through a screen. From there, I select, combine, deconstruct, and reconstruct visual materials as part of my process. I also reference works from other media—such as sculpture, photography, and video—adapting parts of their structure or sensibility into my own painterly language.
Tomorrow no.10_To whom I’ll never know, 2025, Black ink and metallic tempera on handmade paper, 136 x 84 x 36 cm, © Moon Mean (2000px) What projects are you currently working on, and what can we expect from you in the future?
I’m currently continuing my long-term series titled Tomorrow.
In this body of work, I carve the support by hand and create a thick paper that retains the traces of hand, embodying the passage of time and physical gestures within the material itself. On these surfaces, I paint using a material I call “metallic tempera”—a mixture of metal powder, gouache pigments, and animal glue. Through this process, I aim to let the traces and temporality of oxidation naturally permeate the surface.During the painting process, I layer images captured from different sources and moments. In the final stage, I remove the internal support, leaving only a hollow shell. This emptied shell detaches from the wall and stands on its own—what I call a “standing shell”—marking the moment when a painting becomes a self-supporting structure in space.
As the metallic tempera merges with the surface of the handmade paper, the work acquires contradictory qualities: it may appear like an ancient relic, both solid and fragile, thick yet thin. I’m drawn to this paradoxical point where materiality and processual temporality become entangled.
Although these works take the form of paintings, they carry the gestures of sculpture. There is no fixed point of view. Depending on where one stands, the image shifts, twists, or becomes partially obscured. The viewer therefore get to choose what to see and from where to see it. Within this imperfect act of viewing, I question the act of seeing itself—what and how to see. The Tomorrow series is a process of exploring how a subject perceives the world, and how I, as that subject, stand within its uncertain boundaries. At the same time, it is an ongoing experiment on how painting can exist within space. Through the form of “a painting that rests on the floor on its own,” I hope to allow viewers to move freely through the space, encounter the works at their own pace, and discover new meanings within them.
Text & photo courtesy of Moon Mean

Website: https://www.m00nmean.com/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/moon__mean/


