Reflecting on your artistic journey, what key influences – whether artists, experiences, or ideas – have shaped your unique vision and ultimately led you to pursue the artistic path you're on today?

Reflecting on my artistic journey, I recognise that my path toward BioArt has been shaped by the convergence of my background in biology, material research, and visual art. My early experimentation with materials sparked a deep fascination with their varied expressive potential. Each substance, defined by its unique properties, opened new ways for creative exploration. However, it was the realisation of living organisms as a medium that truly formed my artistic approach. 

The living organism can grow, respond, and evolve, introducing an unpredictability that transcends the artist’s complete control. This tension between intentional making and biological spontaneity generates works with inherently unpredictable outcomes. I find this interplay deeply compelling, as it redefines the position of myself as an artist, from creator to observer. The resulting works are dynamic, shaped equally by creative intent and the untamed vitality of life itself. This dialogue between control and chaos has profoundly shaped my artistic practice and continues to guide the evolution of my work.

Your artistic practice is profoundly shaped by the symbiotic interactions between industrial byproducts and organic systems. How do these symbiotic interactions manifest creatively in your practice?

In an era marked by fast fashion and mass production, discarded textiles have become a significant environmental concern. These seemingly inert and decaying materials are often relegated to landfills, yet I see in them the potential for transformation. Industrial byproducts like textiles, though considered waste, can form unexpected symbiotic relationships with organic life forms, such as fungi and microorganisms, which sparked my interest in exploring the complex dialogue between industrial production and natural growth.

In my work Symbiosis, I constructed a dynamic material landscape using knitted fabrics, straw, and mycelium. As the mycelium grows, it engulfs, decomposes, and regenerates the surrounding materials—visually and conceptually highlighting the interconnectedness of synthetic and organic systems. This process challenges anthropocentric ecological perspectives and invites us to reconsider the boundaries between human-made waste and natural processes.

The work also opens a broader conversation around material life cycles. Mycelium, as a natural decomposer, not only breaks down textiles into reusable organic matter but also relies on the fabric as a nutrient-rich substrate for its own growth. This reciprocal relationship transforms waste into a carrier of new life. In this way, Symbiosis questions the conventional divide between waste and resource, proposing a speculative but hopeful vision: that human byproducts might integrate into nature’s self-renewing systems rather than stand apart as pollutants.

Through this practice, I aim to shift the narrative around consumption and disposal, using material interaction as both a creative method and a philosophical inquiry into how we coexist with the ecosystems we so often disrupt.

In your statement, you mentioned blurring the boundaries between art and science, crafting a space where ecological and artistic processes merge. Could you elaborate on this line of thought?

I see the boundary between art and science as fluid. It is a space where experimentation, observation, and curiosity intersect. Both disciplines seek to understand and interpret the world, and when combined, they offer powerful tools for rethinking our relationship with nature and sustainability.

In my practice, ecological processes are not just subjects of inquiry but collaborators in creation. Working with living materials like mycelium or microorganisms requires an understanding of their biological behaviors, but it also demands an openness to their unpredictability, which science often studies and art expresses. By integrating scientific knowledge with artistic intuition, I aim to create works that are not only aesthetically engaging but also rooted in ecological awareness and material sustainability.

This merging of disciplines creates a hybrid space—one where growth, decay, transformation, and time are not only observed but experienced. It challenges conventional methods of making and viewing art and encourages me and viewers to think more critically about the systems.

What can you tell us about your project called Symbiosis? Could you walk us through the creative process of these pieces?

Symbiosis is an ongoing exploration of material transformation and ecological interdependence. At the heart of this project is mycelium, which I use as both a medium and a collaborator. Mycelium’s remarkable ability to break down and regenerate organic matter makes it a compelling tool for rethinking waste, sustainability, and the boundaries between human-made and natural systems.

The creative process unfolds in three distinct stages. It begins with the textile in its original form. This textile is then combined with a living mycelial culture and shaped within a mold, forming a hybrid state that reflects both design intent and organic adaptation. Finally, the piece is left to grow freely, allowing the mycelium to consume, reshape, and redefine the form, creating a living artifact that visually records its transformation.

However, due to the mycelium’s sensitivity to environmental factors, challenges arise during the making process. Contamination, particularly from other molds, is a frequent issue that can cause production failures. Ensuring ecological safety and maintaining precise conditions are crucial. Despite these challenges, mycelium’s adaptability and transformative potential still make it an invaluable medium for me to explore sustainability and ecological responsibility.

One focus of your practice is the liminal space where decay and renewal coexist, challenging the notion of permanence in art. How does your embrace of impermanence influence your approach to documentation and preservation, and what strategies do you employ to capture the essence of your evolving artworks for future audiences?

Embracing impermanence is fundamental to my practice. I work with mycelium, which inherently shifts, decomposes, and regenerates over time. Rather than resisting these transformations, I see them as part of the work’s conceptual and material identity. This perspective challenges traditional preservation models and invites a time-based understanding of art.

In the future, to capture the essence of these evolving pieces, I have a plan to treat documentation as an extension of the creative process. I use video to record the complete transformation. This video allows viewers to witness changes that occur over days or weeks, preserving the artwork’s temporal dimension and emphasizing its dynamic relationship with the environment.

In addition, I will develop a printed brochure as an experimental archive. Unlike standard exhibition texts, this brochure will serve as both a scientific and artistic resource, outlining the biological processes involved, the materials used, and the environmental conditions required. It will provide a more analytical lens through which viewers can engage with the work, highlighting the intersection of art, science, and ecology.

Meanwhile, my aim is not to preserve a fixed form, but to maintain an experience, a process, and a dialogue.

Beyond the conceptual and aesthetic aspects of your work, what kind of emotional or spiritual connection do you hope to foster between people and the materials that surround them? 

My work seeks to foster a deeper emotional and sensory connection between people and the overlooked materials that surround them, especially those deemed waste. By integrating living systems like mycelium with discarded textiles, I invite viewers to experience materials not as static objects but as participants in a continuous cycle of decay and regeneration. By engaging multiple senses—sight, touch, and scent—I aim to cultivate an intimate awareness of nature’s agency. This embodied experience encourages viewers to reconsider how they live with and within their environments. 

Through this process, I hope to shift perspectives: to see waste not as an endpoint, but as a beginning. Sustainability, in this context, goes beyond reducing consumption. It becomes about reimagining our relationship with materials, recognizing their capacity to transform and give rise to new life.

Importantly, the work draws attention to the limitations of anthropocentric solutions. It emphasises that the true transformative power lies not in human-designed interventions, but in the regenerative intelligence of the natural world itself. BioArt occupies a unique position in this dialogue, revealing the wisdom embedded in biological processes and offering alternative pathways toward ecological balance.

You describe your sculptures and installations as 'evolving ecosystems' that shift in form, scent, and texture over time. How do you relinquish control over the artistic process when working with living organisms like mycelium, and what unexpected discoveries or challenges have you encountered as a result of embracing this element of unpredictability?

Mycelium is highly responsive to environmental variables such as humidity, temperature, and the specific types of textiles it encounters. These conditions can result in unexpected transformations in texture, scent, and form—sometimes enriching the work, other times leading to its decay or structural collapse. Mold contamination, in particular, presents a persistent challenge, often disrupting both the aesthetic outcome and the project timeline.

Rather than resisting this unpredictability, I intentionally incorporate it into the conceptual foundation of my work. By embracing these uncertainties, I create space for biological agency to shape the final piece, often leading to unforeseen and compelling developments.

One memorable example occurred during the transportation of an exhibition. When two components of the piece were accidentally separated, the physical connection broke. To my surprise, within just a few days, the mycelium began to grow toward the fracture, though it could not fully repair it. This moment revealed the regenerative power of living materials.

Your commitment to ecology and the environment are central aspects of your artistic practice. What advice can you offer to artists who aim to cultivate a more environmentally conscious practice?

Cultivating an environmentally conscious artistic practice begins with a fundamental shift in perspective, from viewing nature as a passive resource to engaging with it as an active collaborator. In the face of mounting climate challenges such as overconsumption, escalating waste, extreme weather events, and widespread ecological disruption, it is increasingly evident that many of the solutions we seek are already embedded within nature itself. For instance, the regenerative capabilities of fungi, the cyclical efficiency of ecosystems, and the resilience of natural processes offer a blueprint for sustainable creation.

For artists, this calls for a more profound attentiveness to biological systems, allowing natural processes to guide both material selection and conceptual development. Working in dialogue with nature fosters practices that are not only environmentally responsible but also conceptually rich and meaningful. Equally important is the willingness to abandon the idea of permanence.

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

Art plays a vital role in contemporary society by offering alternative frameworks for understanding and engaging with the world, especially when it intersects with science. Unlike traditional scientific inquiry, art draws on conceptual thinking, symbolic associations, and sensory experience, allowing for questions and insights that might otherwise go unexplored.

BioArt exemplifies this intersection, enabling the fusion of artistic and scientific approaches. Working with living systems such as fungi or microorganisms, bioartists visualise complex biological processes while also generating new research questions and exploring innovative, sustainable materials. They challenge disciplinary boundaries and propose new ways of thinking about life, technology, and ecology.

However, this practice also raises important logistical and ethical considerations. Artists must account for the sensitivities of living media, including containment, contamination risks, and responsible disposal. Meanwhile, ethical questions, such as manipulating life forms or unintended ecological consequences, require thoughtful engagement and often collaboration with scientists and bioethicists.

In my view, by embracing both the creative and critical dimensions of working with life, BioArt is a powerful tool for advancing sustainability and social consciousness.

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

I encourage readers to embrace the collaboration between art and nature. Each offers distinct ways of understanding the world, but together, they create a more holistic perspective. Approach your artistic practice like a research experiment: stay curious, analyse deeply, and allow your ideas to grow without limitation. Most importantly, stay true to your vision. Simplicity and clarity in art often speak louder than trying to please everyone.

Read more about the artist here.

Cover image:

Symbiosis, 2024. Fabric, Straw, and Mycelium, 22 X 36 X 17cm by Zixiang Zhang.

All images courtesy of Zixiang Zhang.