Keith Lam is a media artist, and the co-founder and artistic director of the arts and technology studio, Dimension Plus.

His works have received awards at international art festivals, including the Prix Ars Electronica and the Japan Media Arts Festival. His art has been exhibited globally at museums and festivals such as the Hong Kong Museum of Art, The National Art Center in Tokyo, the Ars Electronica Festival, The New Technological Art Award Biennial in Belgium, FILE, ISEA, the Athens Digital Arts Festival and the Hong Kong Arts Festival. He was the recipient of the Hong Kong Arts Development Council Young Artist Award (2009) and Artist of the Year Award (2024).

Works by the studio Dimension Plus have also been exhibited in various cities, including Fukuoka Asian Art Museum, the Ars Electronica Festival, and MUTEK. Additionally, the team has curated several exhibitions, including Hello, Human at MoCA Taipei, Hylozoism: An Arts & Technology Exhibition at HKDI, Encounter Once in a Lifetime – Toyo Ito Architecture Exhibition (the opening exhibition of the Taichung Theater), Sensory Canvas at the Ming Contemporary Art Museum in Shanghai, and the arts & technology incubation program Playaround series. The studio is currently a venue partner of the East Kowloon Cultural Centre.

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

My first degree was actually in Information Systems. Like many students, I wasn’t entirely sure what I wanted to study after high school. However, a significant turning point came during my second year of university when I received a fully-funded scholarship to study Computer Animation and Visual Effects at NYU. This was the start of my artistic journey.

In the early 2000s, computer animation was incredibly popular, and I had a budding interest in it. I applied for the scholarship to explore that interest and, more broadly, to discover my true passion. It was in New York that I met a fellow Hong Kong student who studied media arts. He would take me to museums every weekend, essentially “brainwashing” me with information about the field. It was then that a lightbulb went off—I realized my skills in programming and data analysis could be applied to artistic creation.

My teaching post at City University, however, eventually occupied most of my time, and I had very little opportunity to create my own work. For years, I had held the concept for “Moving Mario,” but it remained just an idea. That changed in 2007 when I shared the concept with the curators of the Microwave International New Media Arts Festival. They offered me a chance to present the work in the “Project Room” section, which is dedicated to supporting emerging artists.

This opportunity pushed me to finally make the project a reality. I took a two-month summer leave and, with the help of an experienced engineer, learned hands-on electronics and mechanics to complete “Moving Mario,” my first official artwork after graduating with my master’s degree. The following year, I was incredibly fortunate to receive an award for the work at Prix Ars Electronica. This recognition made me seriously consider leaving my full-time teaching position to focus on my art. It was Escher Tsai who ultimately convinced me to take that leap. In 2009, we co-founded our studio, Dimension Plus, and I have been a full-time art practitioner ever since.  

What are the main themes or concepts you explore in your work?

To be honest, I don’t confine my work to a single, fixed theme. However, an interesting critique of my work once pointed out three critical elements: data, remediation, and sound. This analysis is very accurate, as I am particularly fascinated by the concept of remediation—the idea that technology can transform one medium into another.

If a traditional medium offers a single sensory channel to experience the world, then multimedia provides multiple channels. Remediation, in this sense, decentralizes and then reconnects our senses. This allows us to “watch music” or “listen to a painting.” It’s like adding new limbs or organs to our bodies—not in a literal cyborg sense, but as a way to free our senses and offer infinite possibilities for exploring the universe.

How do your personal experiences and identity influence your art?

My experiences studying in New York and teaching at the City University of Hong Kong have both profoundly influenced my art, particularly in broadening my understanding of the artistic spectrum. My time in New York, of course, expanded my horizons and introduced me to media arts. However, it wasn’t until I started working at City University that I began to question the notion that art must be solely tied to personal emotion.

I started there as a research assistant, and my passion for media arts led me to audit countless classes—from foundational to advanced, practical to philosophical—all of which were free! I continued to sit in on lectures even after becoming a lecturer myself.

However, the most influential experience for my own creative practice was my Master’s degree in New Media Arts, specifically the lessons I learned from my teacher, Wolfgang Muench. Wolfgang constantly challenged me by asking questions about every aspect of my work—from the overall concept to the smallest details, like my choice of materials, interaction methods, or the necessity of real-time interaction. I still carry those questions with me today, using them to challenge myself when I create new work and, in turn, to challenge my own students.

What is your creative process like? Do you follow a routine or work spontaneously?

I don’t have a fixed creative process, but I always start with a core concept. People often wonder if media artists begin with an interest in a specific technology. My answer is usually no, but it’s not a definitive “no.” It depends on whether the interest is in a technology’s superficial effects or a deeper understanding of its underlying structure.

This is a key aspect of being a media artist: you have to dedicate a significant amount of time to learning the technology. Twenty years ago, programming and even electronic engineering weren’t as accessible as they are today; artists had to learn from scratch. This situation is similar to the current landscape with AI.

My process starts with a concept, followed by a series of research to support and refine it, and then tackling the technological challenges. To me, it’s no different from conducting research in a university: you start with a topic, conduct research, experiment in a lab, and finally, present your findings. 

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

I would have to say “The Lighthouse.” Creating a lighthouse has always been on my wish list, but I honestly never thought it would be a feasible project especially I am not an architect and we don’t need more lighthouse in Hong Kong. While “The Lighthouse” was a temporary installation, it holds immense personal meaning because of its connection to the city where I was born and raised.

It was also a significant technical challenge. The venue was on the fifth-floor deck of a building along Victoria Harbour, making it incredibly windy and hot during the summer. Media art is often excluded from public art due to the sensitive nature of electronics, but we overcame all these technical hurdles, even with a typhoon approaching. The opening was ultimately canceled due to the storm, which, in a way, made the project even more meaningful—it felt as though the lighthouse was truly guiding and protecting our city.

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

Most of my works are installations, so the physical space and location are extremely important. If I’m creating a new work, the nature of the space is a central consideration from the very beginning. I find that a site-specific approach is the most effective way to exhibit my work and connect with the audience.

I’m not a big fan of reading artist statements at an exhibition, and this applies to my own work as well. I believe that text can guide and limit the audience’s interpretation and imagination. An artwork should be able to speak for itself through the senses, not through a statement. I would prefer to have no artist statement next to my work at all, or to make it an optional “extended reading” available via a QR code or website link. Ultimately, the overall sensory experience of visiting the exhibition—including the lighting, sound, and even the smell—is what matters most to me.

What advice would you give to emerging artists trying to establish themselves?

If you can, put everything aside and travel—even if it’s just to a nearby city. The culture and atmosphere of a single place can deeply influence the direction of the mainstream, and even the alternatives to it. Different cultures won’t necessarily give you a new direction, but they will definitely inspire or even shock you. Whether the effects are positive or negative, your personal “database” will be significantly enhanced. While the internet connects us with information, it can never truly replace the experience of being in the real world.

Text & photo courtesy of Keith Lam

Website: https://keithlyk.net
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