I kept hearing friends talk about the differences between the art scenes in Berlin and Paris, so I visited a few times, met some artist friends, and also stayed in Berlin.

Engaging, questioning, living

In sculpture, I tend to approach the work by considering the materials and their historical context, while in painting, I focus more on the perspective and language of the image.

Of course, I have been reflecting on this question especially after moving to France, because French and Mandarin are vastly different languages. I see painting and sculpture as separate languages, and this has made me think about how to communicate the meaning of my work through the artwork itself, so that people don’t need a specific cultural background to understand it. This has been the language I’ve been trying to refine in my creations this year.

I make time to visit Berlin every year. It seems to have more underground spaces and a strong influence from underground culture, which gives experimental artists greater room to survive and create. In contrast, Paris offers fewer such spaces. I believe this is closely tied to the art ecosystem and economic factors. Although Paris has become more international in recent years, the rising rent makes it increasingly difficult for many artists to sustain themselves—especially those in the experimental phase, who need more space and resources to take risks and make mistakes.

Victor Auberjonois first reached out to me on Instagram with an invitation to exhibit, and after some discussions between him and my representing gallery, Nicodim, we began exploring the uniqueness of both the space and the project. I’ve always been drawn to historically charged or atypcal spaces—they inspire me deeply. I believe that artworks dialogue with different meanings depending on the space they inhabit, and I’m constantly seeking new contexts and interpretations, which often lead to fresh insights and reflections in my practice.

This sculpture further explores the transformation of the relationship between humans and nature through metaphor. The horse stall, once a space of labor and close interaction between humans and animals, is now reimagined as a hollow shell — symbolizing disciplined nature, the erased body, and the alienation brought by industrialization. By reinterpreting this structure, the work turns a once-living space into a symbol of control, loss, and historical rupture.

The coal-covered floor and rusted walls are not only material choices but also symbolic expressions — they carry the traces of time, the corrosion of power, and the slow collapse of traditional structures under modernization. Through the use of discarded, repurposed materials, the artist transforms forgotten remnants into metaphors of memory, history, and political inquiry into existence.

In essence, SPINE BOUNDARY does not convey political messages directly, but through its use of material, metaphor, and spatial reconstruction, it raises profound questions about domestication, control, forgetting, and disappearance.

I never want to impose how I think people should feel. What I find more interesting is listening to what they tell me they feel.

Yes, I would consider the size and safety of the artwork since it’s in a public space. Other than that, I feel quite very free to create.

Of course, I noticed these elements and felt excited because they add more layers of interpretation and complexity to the work. They also allowed me to step away from painting practice and think about other issues. Last year, I worked with ceramics, a different material, and this year, in this sculpture, I used animal skin, which is also related to the body. This gave me a new understanding of bodily perception and is part of my exploration of the relationship between materials and perception in my creative process.

I hope to see many works that explore different aspects of humanity. Human nature is complex and ever-changing, which is probably why we are always fascinated by it. But I believe the simplest reason is that a good artwork is one that moves people.