Ye Wang

"In 2022, I approved my own resignation using my CEO system access. I let myself go." That is where this project begins.

Kite Bodies is a long-term design practice that materializes the invisible "upward obligation" inherent in meritocratic societies. In contemporary life, self-improvement is no longer a choice but a moral imperative. It compels constant operation, renders rest suspicious, and transforms stagnation into a personal failure. Kite Bodies seeks to disrupt this logic of continuous optimization through the ancient, non-linear craft of kite-making.

The kite carries an ancient imagination of ascent — progress, transcendence, and upward movement — yet it is equally fragile, unstable, and uncontrollable, always at risk of falling or disappearing.

The central installation combines a goldfish head and a dragon tail. The goldfish represents a self that has been tamed into visibility — polished yet stripped of its wildness — while the dragon tail embodies the illusion of extended power: titles, skills, and accumulated competitive capital. Through the acts of making, flying, and finally letting go, the project introduces a physically perceptible experience of tension, suspension, and release.

The project unfolds across three interconnected forms: a handcrafted kite installation presenting physical tension; a documentary and a single-shot film of 10,000 metres of kite string being released; and a participatory workshop developed in collaboration with local communities. Rooted in partnerships with traditional kite craftsmen, Kite Bodies continues to be activated across different cities and institutional contexts.

Kite Bodies is not a singular project, but an evolving methodological framework that explores how internalized systems of obligation can be temporarily suspended through material practice, embodied action, and non-performative time. The framework operates through three interdependent principles.

Traditional kite-making is a slow, material-led form of handcraft — through ancient techniques such as splitting bamboo and mounting silk, it demands that the maker relinquish control over outcomes and follow the logic of the materials themselves. It leaves behind only tension: the slight tremor of the taut silk. Its extreme complexity and fragility transform it into a "non-performative artifact" — a fragile metaphor for structural pressure that may snap at any moment.

The finished kite is a static installation. It is visual, aesthetic, and fragile. It presents resistance without explaining it.

Once the kite rises, control shifts. Kite-flying is a brief, practical, repetitive act shaped entirely by its environment — its only output is a moment of bodily release. It involves participants, conversation, and emotional experience — yet it produces no measurable outcome and nothing that can be evaluated. For both maker and participant, it is an experiential process of learning to accept open-ended results. The only honest output is the experience itself.

In the workshop, time is withdrawn from productive systems and reallocated into actions that generate no measurable outcomes. Participants convert performative time into collective making and flying. This process has no fixed duration, no staged progression, and no evaluable results. Value is not accumulated, but suspended.

These three principles are not bound to a single form. They can be reconfigured across different contexts — installations, moving image, workshops, and site-specific collaborations.

The kite hangs from the ceiling on an almost invisible thread, anchored at the base by a weight. It appears weightless, yet holds an enormous tension — extremely fragile, always on the verge of breaking. The dragon tail curves upward in a slow arc of six metres, presenting a quiet aesthetic of ascent, like a ladder disappearing into the air.

Behind the installation, two films play side by side, forming an immersive narrative space. There is nothing the audience needs to do. Only to stay — to look up at the kite or look down at the films.

The Kite Bodies workshop operates through a simple mechanism: participants register a period of time they wish to temporarily step out of performance logic and convert it into the making of a kite unit. There is no required duration, no stages of completion.

Participants work in relay, collectively making kite units in different forms — splitting bamboo, assembling frames, mounting fabric, tying bridles, test flying, painting. All completed units are gathered, connected, and collectively flown. The registered performative time becomes a non-performative flight of unpredictable duration.

The workshop is not fixed within art institutions. It unfolds in open spaces, festive moments, and informal public sites. Conversations, silences, and fragmentary sharing are not documented or organised into viewpoints. They dissipate as part of the action.

The Flow is a long-term research-based design project centered on Si Jing Jiao Luo (Four-End Warp-Twining) — part technical archaeology, part embodied narrative, part attempt to hold time still in an era that keeps accelerating. It begins with a single question: what remains of a technique too complex to survive efficiency?

Si Jing Jiao Luo is not simply a lost textile. It is a vanished body protocol — a system of instructions that could only be kept alive through muscle memory, strict rhythm, and an irreducible sequence of physical actions. This project re-enters that protocol as researcher, weaver, and witness: through fieldwork with living practitioners, structural decoding, material experimentation, and a translation chain moving from bodily action through language, code, spatial modeling, and fabrication.

The work culminates in a multi-layered research installation — a disassembled loom structure, woven fragments, and fieldwork film — making the invisible protocol visible as a material confrontation. It proposes reintroducing an incompressible time structure into contemporary technological life, and asks what is at stake when complexity, labor, and efficiency are weighed against each other.

This project re-enters a discontinued body protocol that cannot be reduced, accelerated, or fully translated.

The core of Si Jing Jiao Luo lies in chain-linked twining: four warp threads form a single operational unit, undergoing precise positional exchanges and interlocking in three-dimensional space. This physical logic produces high structural stability, while also generating an extremely high density of labor. The resulting textile appears visually minimal — thin, even, and nearly patternless. A highly complex sequence of operations produces a surface that is almost unreadable. This contradiction — high structural complexity / low visual legibility — defines its essential characteristic.

c. 3500 BCE (Yangshao Culture, approx. 5500 years ago): Carbonized textile fragments excavated from the Wanggou and Qingtai sites in Xingyang, Henan, identified as early forms of four-end gauze structures.

Warring States – Western Han Dynasty (c. 475 BCE – 9 CE): Twining techniques matured; the Mawangdui Han Tomb No. 1 yielded finely woven gauzes, including ear-cup pattern gauze and peacock motif gauze.

Tang–Song Dynasties (618–1279 CE): Peak development; Yue gauze (Yue Luo) widely circulated, alongside the emergence of brocaded gauze (Zhijin Luo).

Ming–Qing Dynasties (1368–1912 CE): Gradual decline; replaced by structurally simpler two-end leno (e.g. Hangzhou gauze / Hang Luo). Loom systems disappeared, the technique was discontinued, and no systematic technical documentation was preserved.

This research focuses on two key moments of re-emergence in modern contexts.

Japanese textile master Kitamura Takeshi re-identified this structure through research and reintroduced it into contemporary practice through redesign, applying it to high-end obi (kimono belts).

Chinese weaver Zhou Jiaming, commissioned to reproduce similar textiles, reverse-engineered the structure from surviving fabric samples and independently reconstructed the weaving method; he was later recognized as an Intangible Cultural Heritage inheritor, contributing to a number of textile reconstruction projects.

Its mode of survival mirrors its own structure: non-reducible, non-skippable, and only accessible through direct engagement.

Loss: What is actually lost when a technique is excluded for its incompatibility with systems of efficiency?

The Protocol's Continuity: When a highly complex technique exists only as embodied memory — a "muscle algorithm" — rather than as written or documented knowledge, how can it avoid disappearing with the body that holds it? In the context of digital modeling and code-based systems, is it possible to construct a translatable form of such an intangible protocol?

Transformation: How does the structural logic and cultural meaning of Si Jing Jiao Luo shift when material, scale, and medium are altered?

The Dislocation of Value: The condition of high input / low visual output is often dismissed as inefficiency. Does this form of "unreadable labor" point to an alternative system of value that has been overlooked?

Reclaiming Sovereignty: From the disappearance of the artisan's identity to the devaluation of bodily experience, humanity has gradually surrendered the capacity for complex operation within systems of efficiency. By re-signing this harsh "body protocol," can we find a physical fortification for human labor sovereignty at the intersection of artistic archaeology and contemporary design?

To re-enter a technique that left no written record, the work began with the body — building an archive from the inside out, then testing how far that logic could travel.

A working archive of the weaving logic has been established, translating a process that exists only in the body into a form that can be read, transmitted, and analyzed: decomposition of the minimum weaving unit; mapping of warp-twining pathways; repeated execution and documentation of simulated weaving; textualization of mnemonic phrases and repetitive bodily sequences.

Testing whether the structural logic of Si Jing Jiao Luo can generate new aesthetic and functional values outside the context of textile as clothing material: replacing fine threads with coarse wool to enlarge weaving scale; using aluminum strips as weaving units, shifting into rigid structural forms.

Introducing computational and automated tools to further examine the structure within systems of efficiency, testing whether its physical logic can be translated into digital processes, and whether its temporal structure is altered or compressed: encoding the weaving logic using JavaScript; visualization through p5.js; spatial modeling in Rhino / Grasshopper; partial fabrication through 3D printing.

The next phase of the project is to make the "body protocol" visible, turning it into a physical presence that can be perceived, approached, and engaged with. Materials sourced from everyday life in the Netherlands will be introduced, with a focus on those that are modest, quiet, marginalized, and overlooked by industrial systems. These materials will be used to re-execute the body protocol.

Through the continuous execution of the protocol, new textile fragments based on the structure of Si Jing Jiao Luo will be produced. By repeating this process, the narratives of "holding onto time" and "resisting forgetting" are enacted in reality, allowing these fragments to become caesuras within the ongoing flow of technological acceleration and efficiency-driven society.

The long-term development of the project unfolds along two directions.

From "Protocol as Text" back to the Body (Embodied Protocol): At the current stage, the "body protocol" has been translated into code, mnemonic phrases, and structural documentation. In the long term, the project aims to return this protocol to the body — allowing it to exist beyond text and tools as an executable, independent language. The pathway for this return is through collaboration with dancers: translating the warp-twining movements of Si Jing Jiao Luo into choreographed group formations, where rhythm, sequence, and spatial relations are reconstructed through collective bodily coordination.

Material Development of Structural Potential: Following initial translation and testing, the project will move into a phase of material development, exploring the potential of the Si Jing Jiao Luo structure within contemporary materials and production contexts. This phase will involve collaboration across textile engineering, material science, and design research, in order to examine structural stability, scalability, and new functional possibilities.

The phoenix coronet is a representative headpiece for female roles in Chinese opera. It marks identity, making the wearer recognizable and imprisoning them within their role. This project plants the coronet into a contemporary context — making the invisible logic of meritocracy something that can be worn and seen.

This meritocratic coronet is made of shrink plastic and blue-and-white porcelain. Identity symbols are extracted from the real formative experiences of five Chinese "top students" and the institutional contexts surrounding them — badges, certificates, diplomas, proofs of wealth — stripped of function, leaving only the visual residue of having been recognized.

In an approximately five-minute solo operatic performance, the designer wears the coronet. Through gesture, posture, and movement, these identity symbols spread across the body like parasitic organisms. What follows is a bodily ritual: removal, suspension, re-sensing.

Extraction: Identity symbols are extracted from interviews and institutional contexts. Function removed. Only the visual residue remains.

Materialization: The coronet is made from shrink plastic and blue-and-white porcelain. The symbols acquire physical weight — they must be borne, and they can break.

Embodiment: Through the coronet and costume, these symbols are bound to the body, translating back and forth with the narrative structure of Chinese opera throughout the performance.

Connected takes a Chinese university dormitory as its core spatial setting and constructs a digital theatre examining the condition of remaining trapped after bypassing the Great Firewall through VPN access. The work consists of a dormitory translated into a two-dimensional information interface, together with continuously playing, manipulated three-screen video images produced within this space.

In China, the Great Firewall (GFW) has long shaped how information is accessed and understood. Even when individuals reach the outside internet through VPNs, crossing the firewall does not open up a more expansive cognitive space; instead, people often move quickly into new information cocoons, emotional mobilization, and polarized positions. A person who once sought to understand the world gradually becomes unable to maintain moderation, integrity, and rationality. This shift is not a personal moral failure, but the result of prolonged exposure to contaminated information structures.

Connected deliberately abuses technical means by polluting news images through code and altering spoken language in video using AI, allowing emotional noise to reproduce itself. The dormitory, as a highly standardized and reproducible private space, compresses this process into a closed system, transforming the experience of being trapped after crossing the firewall into a directly perceptible condition.

After technological access barriers are breached, what kinds of situations and conditions allow information segregation and polarized positions to continue to exist?

Within a platform-driven internet environment, how do language and images deviate from their communicative functions and gradually shift toward attack, pollution, and semantic distortion?

In a media environment that is highly fragmented and where emotion precedes facts, how is individual behavior shaped into a structural outcome rather than the result of personal choice alone?

2D Minimal Political Unit: The visual information of a four-person dormitory is flattened into a confined stage layered with documents and data streams, forcing viewers to read the space rather than observe it.

Violent Translation (AI): AI is used to manipulate language in public footage, causing political figures to read hatred-driven texts sourced from online comment sections. A violent semantic substitution — exposing how extreme emotion reverses course and overrides public language.

Image Pollution (Python): A Python-built image database treats news fragments as pixels. Grand narratives — the Statue of Liberty, national flags — are decomposed through enlargement into cheap emotional debris: Da Bai, ankle shackles, spam. Semantic distortion emerges through shifts in granularity.

Sensory Overload: Large-scale mosaics and high-density information generate physical discomfort and sustained visual pressure.

Founded in 1964 on East Chang An Avenue, the Friendship Store was China's premier commercial gateway for international clientele, witnessing the transition from a planned to a market economy. The architecture embodies mid-20th-century Bauhaus and Constructivist aesthetics — characterized by minimalist facades and beige terrazzo flooring — forming an irreplaceable material record of China's early modern consumer memory.

Urban Contraction: Declining commercial vitality along East Chang An Avenue as surrounding historic retail sites close or face demolition.

Identity Fragmentation: Multiple rebranding cycles resulted in a confused visual identity and a narrowed audience focused exclusively on traditional crafts.

Spatial Constraint: Traffic patterns limit footfall; despite being walkable/cycling-friendly, the site is disconnected from major parking by the arterial Chang An Avenue.

Data harvested from surrounding micro-ecosystems (embassies, CBD white-collar, and business travelers) indicates a shared preference for pet-friendly, cycling-friendly, and slow-paced independent brands.

Positioning: Transitioning from a "Landlord Model" to a "Branded Non-standard Mixed-use Destination."

Functional Matrix: Structured as 60% Commercial (Retail/Showroom), 30% Office (R&D Studios), and 10% Public/Cultural space.

Subtractive Renovation: Extracting original Bauhaus elements and unifying the visual system while removing redundant stylistic layers.

Capex: 5.8 million RMB (total renovation cost).

Break-even: Projected at Year 3.5.

Risk Assessment: A vacancy rate exceeding 12% poses a risk to cost recovery; cumulative profit projected at 1.5 million RMB by Year 5.

Short films are not drafts for features. Filmmaking does not belong only to the cinema. Minute departs from these two convictions, aiming to redefine the short film as an independent artistic medium: creating an autonomous platform for image-makers working across diverse forms, and reframing the relationship between moving image, urban space, and public spectatorship.

Lu Lake is a mixed-use community on the outskirts of Chengdu, centred on an artificial lake connecting a theatre, cinema, gallery, lawn, and public plaza. Audiences moved between venues by boat — not as a logistical convenience, but as a structural part of the programme design. Different sections occupied different spaces: non-fiction, fiction, and experimental video installations in indoor venues; pitching sessions and forums in the public plaza; a film-adjacent market along the lakeside lawn.

As guests and audiences moved through the site, they shifted between subjects, between atmospheres, between ways of entering a work. Watching became a journey with a route — not a transfer from one room to the next.

Competition: Fiction, non-fiction, and artistic video — open call, online selection, custom-built selection system.

Exhibition "Places (Non) Places": Newly commissioned video installations and cross-disciplinary art film.

Screening: Curated independent shorts and feature films composed of short films.

Training Camp: Directors invited to shoot new work within a fixed time frame, on the theme of "time."

Inspiration Market: Screenplay pitch selection offering production opportunities to emerging directors.

Forum: Open panel discussions on short film and video art.

Apichatpong Weerasethakul, Palme d'Or winner at Cannes, was invited as Annual President. Bi Gan, director and poet (Wild Punk, Special Prize, Cannes 2025), served as content advisor and ambassador. The Art Committee comprised 40 members — directors, cinematographers, producers, critics, artists, and musicians — selecting 38 films for competition. Over three months of open submissions, 5,377 qualifying works were received.

The festival ran for one week. On-site audience exceeded 20,000. During the Training Camp, five crews completed new films under severe COVID lockdown conditions in Chengdu. One work, Now Here, was selected for the New Generation section of Berlinale 2023.

Volkswagen's visual identity, unchanged for 35 years, was updated for the first time. Three short films were commissioned to interpret the renewal across music, dance, and costume. This is the music video.

To reconcile the folk nostalgia of Those Flowers, the retro jazz sensibility of its reimagining act Mr Miss, and the cyberpunk visual direction — while delivering the brief's core message: young, forward-looking, futuristic.

"Flower" replaced "love" as the central image — real, artificial, blooming, wilted, and preserved flowers — breaking the original song's assumption of a singular golden past and introducing a dual sense of time and existence.

Mr Miss's style was shifted from retro jazz to Acid Jazz, finding a musical language compatible with the cyberpunk visual direction. A sealed box was built as the set, abstracting both timeline and narrative.