What pivotal moments or experiences led you to become the interdisciplinary artist you are today?

Being an interdisciplinary artist is the way I choose to engage with the world. It gives me freedom to explore any subject that sparks my curiosity and to express my ideas through creative, evolving forms. Each of my projects begins with a concept, and from there, I choose the materials, mediums, and formats that best serve the idea. This approach naturally led me to work across disciplines, constantly learning new skills and technologies to bring each vision to life. The flexibility and openness of this process continue to shape who I am as an artist.

In your statement, you mentioned that your work is an exploration of nature, expressing your understanding of the world as well as the state of being. Could you elaborate on this conceptual approach?

The “nature” I explore goes beyond the physical environment of Earth. It includes the universe as we know it, and even extends to places that exist only in theory and cannot yet be observed, such as quantum dimensions or parallel worlds. I’ve been endlessly curious about the world since childhood. When I look at a waterfall, I’m not only struck by its powerful beauty, the roaring movement, the mist, the rainbow, but I also start asking questions: Why does water fall downward and not upward? What causes its shape and flow to behave the way it does?

I like to closely observe the individual paths of water droplets. Some fly back into the air as mist and eventually become clouds. Others follow the stream to the ocean, or get pushed to the banks and nourish plants. Some land on people’s heads and are shaken off. These droplets remind me of ourselves, how each of us moves through life in our own way. We call it a “waterfall”, not a collection of droplets, just as we speak of humanity without seeing the individuals within it.

Sometimes we talk about nature as something separate from us, something we need to live in harmony with. But in my view, we are made of the same elements and are subject to the same laws and forces that shape stars, tides, and weather. The laws of the universe are also the laws of our existence. Through my art, I explore this interconnectedness, blending scientific inquiry, philosophical reflection to examine the patterns and mysteries that shape both the world and our lives. In doing so, I seek to understand our fleeting presence in the universe.

Your work, profoundly influenced by scientific theories, utilizes technology to create experiences that evoke a sense of wonder. Can you describe how you translate complex scientific concepts into engaging artistic experiences for your audience?

I don’t see myself translating scientific concepts, I see both science and art as ways of exploring the world through curiosity. I once heard on The Science of Everything podcast that scientists are essentially curious children, and I believe that same curiosity exists in all of us, whether or not we pursue science professionally. When I study scientific theories, they don’t feel like cold facts, they feel like new perspectives, new ways of observing the world through thoughtful questioning and experimentation. 

In my art, I’m not trying to present conclusions. Instead, I build experiences that reflect my own process of discovery. I use technology and immersive formats not to explain science, but to open a space for wonder, where people can encounter a concept in their own way. I’m always aware that there’s no absolute truth; that’s why I aim to create experiences that allow viewers to draw their own connections and insights. For me, that personal engagement, where people bring their own questions and leave with their own meanings, is the most accurate reflection of how we understand the world. 

Can you tell us more about your process of capturing both the ephemeral fragility and the beauty of our existence in your works?

For me, ephemeral fragility and beauty are inseparable. Without impermanence, the things we value the most–like courage, kindness, and the preciousness of life, would lose their depth. This perspective shapes how I approach my work, and my process often begins with curiosity, sparked by a concept or place that draws me in. 

For example, in Forever Momentary Space, I traveled to Iceland and witnessed blue icebergs calving from glaciers, massive, luminous, and constantly shifting. The ice cracked and thundered, collapsing into the lagoon with dramatic splashes. It was a place where beauty and fragility were both visually and physically undeniable. To express my response, I projected a rotating, lab-made CO2 diamond onto the melting ice, a symbol of eternity, yet in this context, merely a digital illusion, fleeting like the ice itself. 

What can you tell us about the performative work, Into Orbit? 

I sang in choirs for over ten years, starting when I was six. I took part in many performances and competitions, and while those experiences were intense and often stressful, they left a lasting impression. As I grew older and began to view performances from a more reflective, third-person perspective, with a deeper understanding of music, I started to rediscover the joy of singing with others. It felt like adding your own unique voice to something larger, creating harmony through difference. This idea became the starting point for Into Orbit. 

The work is centered around a 6-foot diameter circle, a form I’m drawn to for its symbolism, a shape without beginning or end, where every point can be seen as both origin and return. As the conductor, I guided performers to activate sounds in a circular motion using electrically conductive materials connected to a custom MIDI system. Each point in the circle corresponded to a unique sound, from NASA’s Webb Cosmic Cliffs sonification, to Antarctic penguin calls, to weather history broadcasts.

The sequence of the performance mirrors a poetic version of Earth’s timeline: beginning with glaciation, moving through the rise of animals, humans, science, and finally returning to its watery, star-lit origins. Into Orbit is both a sonic ritual and a reflection on our place in time, reminding us that we are a part of a vast, ongoing cycle. 

You aim to transport audiences to new and uncharted territories. What kind of emotional or intellectual journey do you hope your audience experiences when interacting with your immersive installations?

I prefer to leave the emotional or intellectual journey open to the audience. It’s similar to reading a novel, no matter how specific the words are, each reader imagines the characters and story in their own way. My installations are like shared spaces: I offer what I’ve seen and experienced through exploring the world, but I don’t dictate how others should feel or interpret it. I’m always moved when someone shares a thought or emotion sparked by my work that I hadn’t considered.

In life, we often experience things both in solitude and in connection, like sitting around a campfire, sharing food and stories under the stars. Everyone takes away something different, that individual experience within a shared moment is what I hope to achieve with my work. 

What are some of the biggest challenges you face when working with technology in your art? How do you balance the desire for innovation with the need to create meaningful and lasting artistic experiences?

Every time I work with technology, it presents a challenge. Since the materials, mediums, and forms in my work are entirely driven by concept, the technologies I use must also change from project to project. Figuring out which tools to use, where to learn them, and how to apply them in the most practical way is often difficult, especially as an independent artist without institutional support or a technical team.

I don’t see it as a balance between innovation and experience, every technology I use is chosen to serve the experience. I believe most technologies we use today are ultimately designed with that same goal.

Reflecting on your body of work, is there a specific project that represents a pivotal moment in your artistic evolution? How did that experience influence the direction of your subsequent work?

The Forever Momentary Space project I did last year in Iceland brought me closer to my long-held dream of creating work in natural environments while engaging with scientific ideas. At the ethereal Jökulsárlón glacier lagoon, I witnessed glaciers cracking and collapsing into the pure blue water, their fragments drifting and breaking apart, and on Diamond Beach, ice gleaming like gemstones against black volcanic sand, constantly reshaped by powerful waves. In this raw and expansive landscape, I could see the world stripped down to its essence.

This experience expanded my interest in not just observing the present state of nature but imagining the future. This shift led to my current work, the space debris project, which speculates on a time when humanity has lost Earth and now survives in space. Seeking a connection to their past, they create furniture using the most accessible material, space debris. Over time, their physical form has changed so much that they no longer remember furniture's function. The first sculpture is a stool inspired by Vanguard 1, the second successful U.S. satellite and now the oldest piece of space debris. Made from aluminum 5052-H32, titanium, and elements of Vanguard’s design, like its antenna and solar cell, the stool is intentionally non-functional, fragile, and held together without screws.

It’s a form of furniture as memory: broken, incomplete, and symbolic. The piece reflects on the loss of purpose, the repurposing of waste, and the traces we leave behind. This project shows how I use material and narrative, not only to capture the present but to question what remains when everything familiar is gone.

Art and artists play various roles in the fabric of contemporary society. How do you see artistic practices advancing sustainability and social consciousness?

I don’t believe artists alone hold much power to make direct societal changes, that’s why many artists choose to become activists. But what artists do have is flexibility in expression and communication, which allows us to approach sustainability and social consciousness in unique, meaningful ways. Instead of focusing on tangible outcomes, artistic practices can blend research, aesthetics, and concepts to create layered experiences that invite reflection and dialogue.

Art can present these issues in quiet, contemplative spaces and immersive environments, where audiences engage with the topic in a different emotional and sensory context. We can also develop non-literal forms of communication, such as interactive technologies or visual metaphors. In this way, artists help expand the conversation, opening new channels for awareness and empathy that may not lead to immediate action, but can shape deeper, long-term shifts in perception.

What message or call to action would you like to share with our readers?

If I were to share a message, it would be less of a call to action and more of an invitation, to pause and consider the strangeness of being here at all. In a universe so vast it stretches beyond comprehension, something emerged, fragile, finite, and aware. That something is us. We are made of the same material as stars, yet we dream, question, and create.

As Professor Brian Cox said, “What does it mean to live a finite, fragile life in an infinite, eternal universe?” And paradoxically, while we are physically insignificant, “just specs of dust,” as he puts it, we are also “a means by which the universe understands and explores itself.”

Know more about the artist here.

Cover image:

Forever Momentary Space, LED backlit prints, 2024.

All images courtesy of Weina Li.