Bodies in Darkness and Light 你的身体,我的锁骨

March 29, 2019 2019年3月29日
Wave and Reef 3, oil on canvas (120 x 150 cm)

On a hazy Saturday afternoon, Beijing’s 798 Art Zone feels like a small city center, buzzing with activity. There’s a refreshing excitement for art in the air. Chinese contemporary painter Xie Qi has agreed to meet in a coffee shop opposite UCCA to discuss her latest series of oil paintings, Clavicle.

“The themes I like the most are the big ones in life—tragedy and comedy together,” says the artist. Xie has been exploring the use of light and the human figure for years, giving her work a quality that’s both spectral and corporeal. For Clavicle, she added a new layer of drama by depicting the human body in various natural poses illuminated by expressive bands of light. The artist sees the clavicle as a line between portraiture and figuration, an axis holding the surrounding parts into focus.

在一个天气朦胧的周六下午,北京的 798 艺术区感觉就像一个缩小的市中心,人声鼎沸,热闹非凡,空气中弥漫着一股因艺术而生的兴奋气息。中国当代画家谢其此时正在 UCCA 尤伦斯当代艺术中心对面的咖啡馆里,讨论着她的最新油画作品系列《锁骨》(Clavicle)。


Purple Invading Red, oil on canvas (146 x 112 cm)
Timid and Strained 1, oil on canvas (88.5 x 69 cm)

Xie moved from Chongqing to Beijing more than 20 years ago to attend the Academy of Art and Design at Tsinghua University. She often wonders why she hasn’t left the city yet, especially since rocketing studio prices are making it increasingly hard for artists to support themselves. But she says the difficulties are worth it: “Comfortable is not good for art. Beijing relates directly to my work, and here I have to keep things simple.” Besides, she adds, the city gathers open-minded people from all walks of life, such as her friends, many of whom are her subjects for Clavicle.

20 多年前,谢其从重庆搬到北京,进入清华大学美术学院学习。她经常问自己为什么还没有离开这座城市,尤其是不断上涨的工作室租金让艺术家的生存变得日益困难。但她认为,承受这种困难是值得的:“舒适安逸并不利于艺术创作。北京与我的作品是直接相连的,而生活在这里代表我必须一切从简。”此外,她补充说,这座城市聚集许多来自各行各业的心态开放的人,譬如说她的朋友,其中许多位还成为了《锁骨》系列的模特儿。

Ruth Ruth in Blue, oil on canvas (77 x 155 cm)
Wave and Reef 2, oil on canvas (117 x 91 cm)
Timid and Strained 3, oil on canvas (117 x 91 cm)

Her process for this series began with setting the lights and photographing her subjects. “This was a moment different from ordinary life,” she says. “We could feel each other.” Based on the photos, she then drew on the canvas, paint the first layer, wait several days for it to dry, and then paint the second layer. It took her years to complete the entire series.

One of the most fascinating portraits is the profile of a man with a fearful expression, only partly visible in the ethereal darkness. Xie met the subject, French Lacanian psychoanalyst Michel Guibal, during an art residency in Paris. Guibal trained the very first school of Chinese students of Lacan. When Xie Qi took his photograph, he was ill and bedridden, but that didn’t prevent him from sitting for her. He passed away shortly thereafter.


其中最引人入胜的一张画像是一个男人的侧脸,脸上流露着恐惧的表情,在虚无的黑暗中若隐若现。这幅画的原型是法国拉康学派精神分析学家吉布尔(Michel Guibal),谢其是在巴黎一个艺术家驻留项目中与他相识。吉布尔是第一个给中国学生培训拉康的讲师。谢其拍摄他的照片当时他正身患重病,卧床不起。但他依然努力坐起来给她拍摄。在那不久之后,吉布尔就去世了。

Ruth, oil on canvas (120 x 120 cm)
Guibal, oil on canvas (120 x 120 cm)
Mr Meng, oil on canvas (110 x 90 cm)
Wave and Reef 1, oil on canvas (150 x 120 cm)

One might say that there is a psychological analysis behind Clavicle, as if the paintings were a direct representation of the mental state of the subjects. The artist, however, maintains that the identity and narrative of her subjects were never important to her—the body was not a means to an end; it was the actual end. “Appearance and shape, observed from different angles, are truly the main points,” she explains. “But of course there is always something behind it.”


Red Painted Body, oil on canvas (90 x 60 cm)

Xie’s dramatic use of light also powerfully conveys emotions. “The lights put the subjects on a stage, connoting a certain predicament or dilemma,” she notes. For her recent show in Shanghai, she expanded this use of light outside the canvas, with an installation of neon lights that immerses the audience in her world. She had the idea after learning that the gallery space had previously been a massage parlor and front for a brothel. She plays with the sordid history of the building, adding a new layer of lechery to the exhibition.

The Clavicle series is a breakthrough for the artist. She will soon release a catalog of the exhibition containing all the artworks. Given the explicit nature of the content, she’ll have to find an independent publisher, yet she doesn’t seem bothered much by this fact. “As an artist,” she says, “I have to find a way.”





Contributor: Tomás Pinheiro
Chinese Translation: Olivia Li



供稿人: Tomás Pinheiro
英译中: Olivia Li

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Sticky Situations 你爷爷的路

March 27, 2019 2019年3月27日

Occasionally censorship and draconian punishment can backfire and work in an artist’s favor. That’s certainly the case for Singapore’s Samantha Lo, otherwise known as SKL0, who went from facing jail time for her lighthearted street art to touring the world for gallery shows and mural commissions.

SKL0 never expected to become an artist. Before the whole uproar, she had studied food science and didn’t know what she wanted out of life. Street art caught her attention in 2008 when she started a blog about art in Singapore called RCGNTN. At first, she didn’t plan on joining the ranks of those she covered, but after a little while, she started slapping stickers around Haji Lane (a popular spot with the young crowd) to promote her website. That eventually evolved into stickers with humorous one-liners and observations about life in Singapore.

有些时候,艺术家如果遭受了“审查”和惩罚,反而更可能会让他们因祸得福。就像新加坡艺术家 Samantha Lo 的经历正是如此。她以 SKL0 的名字为人熟知,曾经因为自己出于好玩创作的街头艺术而面临牢狱之灾,也因此获得在世界各地的画廊巡回展览和壁画创作邀请的机会。

SKL0 从未想过会成为一名艺术家。在一切变得沸沸扬扬之前,她就读食品科学专业,还不知道自己到底想要怎么样的生活。2008 年,她开启了一个有关新加坡艺术的博客 RCGNTN,并从那时起开始关注街头艺术。起初,她并没有打算加入这些她所报导的艺术家行列,但没过多久,她开始在当地的哈芝巷(Haji Lane,青年文化的集中地)四处张贴贴纸,以宣传自己的博客。后来,她又在这些贴纸上添加了关于新加坡生活的一些有趣见解。

The stickers went viral and got her some attention, but it wasn’t until she stenciled the words “My Grandfather Road” on the ground in 2012 that her life changed. The phrase itself is just a play on the local saying “your grandfather’s road,” which is commonly used to tell off other drivers. Yet it sparked an investigation that led to an arrest, international media attention, and ultimately a brand new career.

这些贴纸后来被网友疯传,她因此获得了一些关注。直到 2012 年,因为那一句印在地上的“我爷爷的路”(My Grandfather Road),她的生活迎来了巨大的转折点。这句话本身只是从“你爷爷的路”衍化而来,当地人用来惩戒其他司机的一种说法。然而,这句话招致政府部门对她的调查,之后的逮捕,来自国际媒体的关注,以及最终让她走上了新的职业生涯。

“I was at home, upstairs in my room playing Grand Theft Auto, when my mom called from downstairs. I thought she wanted me to do some chores,” SKL0 recalls with a laugh. “I went down and saw six officers standing in our living room.” The police searched her room in their three-story home on the outskirts of the city and found all the evidence they needed to book her. “I spent about 22 hours at the station, but they were very nice about it. They said they liked my work and apologized for handcuffing me.”

She was charged with mischief and faced up to two years in jail for a couple of stencils spray-painted on the pavement. But people were outraged that someone was facing prison time for harmless works of art.

“我当时正呆在家里,在房间里玩《侠盗猎车手》(Grand Theft Auto)。我妈妈在楼下喊我,我还以为她要我帮忙做家务。” SKL0 笑着回忆道。“我下楼,看见六名警察站在我家的客厅。”这是幢郊区小三层房子,警察们搜遍了她的房间,找到所有足以带她走的相关证据。“我在警察局待了大概 22 个小时,但他们对我挺好的。他们说很喜欢我的作品,还为了给我带手铐而道歉。”


Before SKL0, street art in Singapore was generally relegated to alleyways and hidden spaces, but now the public was confronted with how the law impacted creative expression. Foreign vandals have been dealt harsher penalties for less defensible actions. But this case made waves because it involved a young, local artist who was seemingly caught in the system for making people smile. “It was such a high profile case that a lot of lawyers approached me on a pro bono basis,” SKL0 says. “It was so crazy, I was in the media for like a week. Established brands were even cashing in on my designs by selling them.” People surged to her defense and filed a petition with some 15,000 signatures protesting her punishment. A minister even asked for her sentence to be reduced.

在 SKL0 出现之前,新加坡的街头艺术通常都只能在隐密小巷或遮蔽的空间里进行。 而现在,公众开始思考法律如何影响创意表达的问题。有一些蓄意破坏公共财产的外国人,会因为这些“无正当理由的罪行”而受到严厉惩罚。但 SKL0 的案件反映的是一名当地青年因为一些幽默创作而被政府逮捕。“我的案件获得了很多关注,有很多律师找到我要为我无偿服务。” SKL0 说,“真是太疯狂了,我在媒体上被报道了将近一个星期。甚至还有品牌用我的设计来卖产品。”支持她的声浪不断涌入,人们提交了请愿书以期政府减轻对她的惩罚,最后一共获得了约 15000 份签名。甚至有某名部长为她出面以求减刑。

Ultimately, a year after her initial arrest, she was sentenced to just 240 hours of community service and fined $4,000 SGD, which she paid partly by selling T-shirts and collecting donations. “The rest I paid off with the commission opportunities I got after the case,” she says with a triumphant smile.

Opportunities came flowing in. The only problem was that SKL0 didn’t really consider herself an artist due to her minimal experience. She ended up spending an entire year learning new techniques, hoping to not be pigeonholed into the stickers and stencils that made her famous. Her artistic growth is evident in her body of work, which has expanded into sculptures, murals, and more. She’s shown a talent for using visual languages that viewers are familiar with in order to ask new questions.

Today, about a third of her works are funded by the government, and she works full-time as an artist. Her unlikely trajectory to success proves that sometimes what may seem like a stroke of bad luck can actually be a blessing in disguise.

在被逮捕一年后,最终她被判处 240 小时的社区服务和罚款 4000 新币。她靠卖 T 恤和募集捐款支付了部分罚款。“这次事件之后,我获得了很多工作邀请,我用赚的钱支付了其余罚款。”她带着胜利的笑容说道。



Instagram: @skl0_


Contributor: Mike Steyels
Chinese Translation: Olivia Li



Instagram: @skl0_


供稿人: Mike Steyels
英译中: Olivia Li

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Using Flash at Dusk 光,落在你脸上

March 27, 2019 2019年3月27日
Image by jagsgage / 图片由 jagsgage 提供

This story is part of a content partnership and media exchange between Neocha and VSCO. Their membership program, VSCO X, is designed to help you reach your creative potential. Take the next step in your creative journey by starting your free 7-day VSCO X trial today and gain access to the complete VSCO preset library, the newest editing tools, and inspiring educational content.

Flash has the potential to create uniquely balanced photos that blend natural and artificial light. Dusk creates the perfect environment for easily experimenting with this technique. Turn your flash on and learn how you can extend your next shoot past sunset’s golden hour.

本篇文章来自新茶媒体合作伙伴 VSCO 的内容交换。VSCO X 是一个专门帮助摄影爱好者发挥创造潜力的会员项目。现在就开启你的 7 天免费 VSCO X 试用创意之旅,即可获得的 130+ 预设滤镜,以及新的编辑工具、视频编辑和教程内容。


Using Flash/开启闪光

By default, the flash on your camera may not always go off when you want it to. Using VSCO’s camera, you can toggle through four different flash modes to achieve the look you want. For this particular technique, the Flash On mode is all we need, since we want the flash to go off no matter what. Other modes include Automatic, which fires the flash depending on the scene, or Torch, which is a flashlight style approach that is constantly on, making it great for composing in very dim environments.

默认状态下,相机上的闪光灯会自行打开,哪怕有时候你并不希望有闪光。但使用 VSCO 拍照,你可以切换到四种不同的闪光模式,以实现您想要的光效。你只进入“开启闪光”模式,这个设定就会保证闪光灯会随着快门按下而一起闪光。其他模式下,包括让手机自动判断环境光的自动模式、还有持续不断的打光模式,都可以让摄影师在昏暗的环境轻松构图。

Image by cleverfolly / 图片由 cleverfolly 提供

Finding the Light/找到光源

What makes this look so unique is how both the artificial light from the flash and the remaining ambient light in the sky combine to make a balanced exposure. Without the flash, you would have to choose to expose for either the dark foreground, or the brighter sky in the background. Waiting for the right time of day is key to striking this balance and creating a dynamic mix of light.


Image by laurenfrazier / 图片由 laurenfrazier 提供

By waiting for the sun to set, the overall brightness in a scene is greatly reduced, but you’ll also observe that the sky will remain lit for some time. This is dusk, also called ‘blue hour’ for the deep blue color the sky often takes on. Your flash will be strong enough to illuminate your subject, while the rich colors of sky will also continue to shine through.


Composing for Foreground & Background/创作前景和背景

Image by janinesuris / 图片由 janinesuris 提供

Your flash is likely only powerful enough to light up your immediate surroundings, or foreground. Secondly, you’ll want to make sure the ambient light from the sky is also part of the background. By composing for both foreground and background, you take full advantage of the multiple sources of light. If your photo feels dim, try moving your foreground subject closer to the flash. Get creative with framing by changing up your perspective or juxtaposing your subject against a plain sky.


Image by haleybegun / 图片由 haleybegun 提供

Plastic Memories 山寨的真实

March 25, 2019 2019年3月25日

Made in Hong Kong is a zine produced by the Hong Kong artist Chan Hiu. Each issue contains a different toy, such as a plastic gun, a slinky, or a build-it-yourself camera, stirring the childhood recollections of a whole generation. Her idea with this combination is to write the history of Hong Kong’s “knock-off” toys and pay homage to a significant piece of culture that’s gradually disappearing from sight.

“‘Knock-off toys’ is a term for the substitutes for expensive name-brand items made by Hong Kong’s toy industry in the 1950s and 1960s,” Chan explains. “Back then the city’s toy industry was world-famous, but a lot of what it made was for export, with extremely high prices that most locals couldn’t afford. So the factories gave leftover materials to knock-off producers.”

Knock-off producers were an important link in Hong Kong’s toy industry, and you might say they bore witness to its rise and fall. “Yet today, when people talk about knock-off toys, they don’t usually have in mind the old ones from Hong Kong, but the rip-offs made in mainland China, according to my survey results,” says Chan. “So Hong Kong’s knock-off toys have begun to fade from the memories of a generation.”

《山寨玩具》(《Made in Hong Kong》)是一系列由香港艺术家 Chan Hiu 创作的 zine,每一期都搭载了一种怀旧感十足的玩具,如塑胶手枪、弹簧、和组合相机,勾起一代人小时候的记忆。这本玩具书意在书写“香港山寨玩具”的历史,向现在已逐渐消逝在大众视野里的重要文化致上敬意。

“山寨玩具一词来自50至60年代的香港玩具业,指的是高价正版玩具的替代品。” Hiu 解释道。“香港玩具业在当时是世界知名的,但大多是用于出口,价钱十分昂贵,一般巿民都负担不起。所以玩具厂会把剩下的材料分给山寨厂去工作。”

山寨厂是香港玩具业发展非常重要的一环,可以说是见证了整个产业的兴衰。“而在现今,人们提起山寨玩具一词,大多不会联想到香港的旧玩具,反而是中国大陆的翻版玩具(从我的问卷调查所得来的结果)。此一陪伴多数人童年的文化就这么随着岁月,消逝在上一代香港人的回忆录里。”Hiu 如此说道。

Chan’s been a toy lover ever since she was a kid. She still has memories of playing with all kinds of toys with her brother, competing in games whose rules they made up themselves. Even today, they sometimes look back on the adventures those toys were a part of. Those toys are a unique part of Hong Kong’s collective memory. But over the last few years, Chan has watched as the small shops that sold them—a common sight when she was little—disappear one after another. “Some have been pushed out by big corporations, some of closed up shop because they’re business wasn’t as good as it used to be,” she says.

“Toys bring people together. Whenever I bring up those classic Hong Kong knock-offs, there’s no end to the stories I hear. People here grew up with them, even if they paid them much attention. There’s not much documentation on the history of the city’s knock-offs, and I’m sure that if this irreplaceable part of history isn’t shared, it will quickly be forgotten by the next generation.”

To preserve these cultural memories, Chan has published Made in Hong Kong, a singular and highly unconventional zine. Here’s a short overview of the first three issues:

Hiu 从小就是一个玩具控,回想起小时候,浮现在脑海里的常常是和哥哥一起玩的各种玩具,他们还会自定规则去比拼,甚至到现在也会时不时提起那些有玩具参与的故事。这是香港人无可取代的集体回忆。可是在这几年间,她发现小时候流连的玩具铺开始一个一个地消失。“有些被大财团迫迁,有些是生意大不如前必须结业。”


为了保存这样的文化记忆,Hiu 发表了《山寨玩具》这样前所未见又意义非凡的作品。接下来将简单介绍目前三期:


Vol.1 山寨重塑 / Knock-off Remake

“Knock-off Remake” is a booklet that introduces Hong Kong’s knock-off toys. Its front cover contains a plastic toy gun, and its back cover also evokes packaging design. Flipping through this booklet is like flipping through the history of knock-off toys and seeing their development over time.



Vol.2 山寨时轴​​​​​​​ / Knock-off Timeline

The second installment of Made in Hong Kong, “Knock-off Timeline,” gives a chronology of the development of the city’s knock-off toys. The issue’s format evokes the classic slinkies of the 1970s.

山寨玩具系列第二期《山寨时轴》展示了香港玩具发展的时间轴 ,形式设计则参考了70 年代经典的玩具弹簧。


Vol.3 山寨留存​​​​​​​ / Knock-off Preservation ​​​​​​​

The latest issue of Made in Hong Kong, “Knock-off Preservation,” uses a toy camera to record the few remaining variety stores, stationer’s, and places that once sold knock-off toys. It aims to document them before they’re gone, and to raise people’s awareness. The zine is designed like a plastic toy camera: after assembling the pieces, which are printed on a 3D printer, the reader can turn a gear to move the film and delight in the photos inside.




Contributor: Yang Yixuan
English Translation: Allen Young

Behance: ~/chanhiu


供稿人: Yang Yixuan 
中译英: Allen Young

Daydreaming with Tagtraum 她从树上摘下一把大提琴

March 22, 2019 2019年3月22日

Korean illustrator Kang Seoyeon, who works under the name Tagtraum—”daydream” in German—brings an ingenious, surreal imagination to her idyllic scenes of animals and plants, creating works that flutter to life.

来自韩国的插画艺术家 Tagtraum (Kang Seoyeon) ,解释自己的笔名其实是德语,意思就是白日梦。超现实绝妙的想象,动植物和谐共处的图景,都融成了她画中的一景,翩翩然动了起来。

Kang likes giving her imagination free rein, and she especially likes the magic of animation in films like Monsters, Inc., Spirited Away, and Alice in Wonderland. “I enjoy being immersed in the world that these authors have created, having fun,” she explains. Quiet by disposition, she began making art to share with others the extraordinary worlds inside her head. “I close my eyes and open the door to my own fantasy world, and start to imagine things that can’t happen in real life. It’s like escaping reality. My imagination makes me happy when I’m tired after a hard day. I immerse myself in my fantasy world, and when I’m finished imagining, I draw what I experienced there.”

因为喜欢幻想,Tagtraum 特别喜欢奇妙的动画电影,比如《怪物公司》,《千与千寻》和《爱丽丝梦游仙境》等等。我很享受我进入作者创造的这个世界并从中得到乐趣的时刻。平时安静沉默的 Tagtraum,开始画画是因为想和人们分享她脑海中的奇妙世界。我闭上眼睛,打开了自己幻想世界的大门,开始想象现实生活中那些不会发生的事。这就像逃避现实。当我厌倦了艰难琐碎的日子时,这样幻想就让我快乐起来。我会深深跌入了我的幻想世界,画下我在幻想世界中所经历的一切。

Behance: ~/tagtraum208
Facebook: ~/tagtraum208
Instagram: @tagtraum208
Grafolio: ~/tagtraum208


Contributor: Chen Yuan
English Translation: Allen Young

Behance: ~/tagtraum208
脸书: ~/tagtraum208
Instagram: @tagtraum208
Grafolio: ~/tagtraum208


供稿人: Chen Yuan
英译中: Allen Young

Common Space 中西合璧的浪漫

March 20, 2019 2019年3月20日

Trajan (Jia Chuan) is a Chinese artist and illustrator who lives and works in London. In his multimedia works, he records gradually disappearing public residential spaces and the stories they contain. His inspiration comes largely from Chinese housing complexes like the one in Anhui province that he grew up in—hulking concrete structures packed with tiny living spaces. His finely drawn, powerfully poetic illustration style, with its bright colors and vintage sensibilities, shows the influence of his multicultural background.

Trajan(贾船)是一位来自中国、目前在伦敦工作生活的插画师和艺术家。他结合利用各种媒介,记录下变化的时代细节——那些逐渐消失的公共生活空间和发生在其中的故事。从小在安徽长大的 Trajan,灵感很多都来源于他曾经生活的建筑群:恢弘的水泥框架,紧凑小巧的生活空间,两者密切关联。而他接受的多元文化教育,也对他的艺术风格产生了巨大的影响,色彩明亮却古风绵延,画风细腻却诗意盎然。


Contributor: Chen Yuan
English Translation: Allen Young



供稿人: Chen Yuan
中译英: Allen Young

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VSCO — Kodak Ultra Color 100 Kodak Ultra Color 100 胶卷模拟

March 20, 2019 2019年3月20日

This story is part of a content partnership and media exchange between Neocha and VSCO. Their membership program, VSCO X, is designed to help you reach your creative potential. Take the next step in your creative journey by starting your free 7-day VSCO X trial today and gain access to the complete VSCO preset library, the newest editing tools, and inspiring educational content.

With its striking hues and complementing of skin tones, Kodak Ultra Color 100 – KU1 offers vibrant color that doesn’t appear unnatural. Kodak Ultra Color casts a soft pink glow but with subtle contrast, making it great for natural light. Try toning down the highlights for added balance. See some examples of the preset in action below.

本篇文章来自新茶媒体合作伙伴 VSCO 的内容交换。VSCO X 是一个专门帮助摄影爱好者发挥创造潜力的会员项目。现在就开启你的 7 天免费 VSCO X 试用创意之旅,即可获得的 130+ 预设滤镜,以及新的编辑工具、视频编辑和教程内容。

由于其鲜明的色调和为肤色设置的补色,Kodak Ultra Color 100–KU1 提供了充满活力的颜色,但并不会显得不自然。Kodak Ultra Color 有柔和的粉色光晕并产生微妙的光线对比,使它就像自然光一样。尝试降低亮点,以增加白平衡。往下滑动,查看更多使用滤镜后的相片效果。

Before / 修图前
After / 修图后

Getting Down & Dirty 跟着音乐竖起你的脏手指

March 19, 2019 2019年3月19日



To mark the launch of Skullcandy‘s wireless Push™ earphones, we teamed up with the brand to present a series of stories celebrating those in the creative community who push themselves to the limit and break boundaries.

In the first episode, we caught up with skateboarder Wang Di, while in the second we heard from tattoo artist Yao Meihui. In this third installment, we talk to Shanghai-based rock band Oh! Dirty Fingers about music, creativity, life, and persevering on this path.

为庆祝蓝牙无线耳机 Push™ 的重磅推出,Skullcandy 与 Neocha 正式携手合作,为你带来几位艺术家、运动员和音乐人,打破极限,自我出声的故事。


From left to right: Zhang Haiming, Alexandre Leal de Almeida, Bing Xiaohai, Guan Xiaotian / 左到右: 张海明、赵子龙、邴晓海、管啸天

On the very first listen of Oh! Dirty Fingers, you can tell that they’re not your average rock band. From the lead singer’s muddy voice to the breakneck drumbeat and distorted chords, they’ve thrown out the rules of songwriting with their brash, rowdy style. They have little regard for mainstream tastes, and their music constantly pushes the limits of the rock genre. That’s what makes them a presence you can’t ignore in today’s indie scene.

Founded in 2013 by frontman Guan Xiaotian, Oh! Dirty Fingers started out as a college band. After cycling through a roster of members, the group now features Guan on vocals, Bing Xiaohai on guitar, Zhang Haiming on bass, and Alexandre Leal de Almeida on drums.

“I never thought about whether it’d be hard,” says Guan. Music wasn’t a conscious choice after college—he just followed his heart and found himself on this path. “I’ve always liked music. I never gave much thought to life after graduation—all I knew was, I didn’t want to do anything else, and I’d never be satisfied unless I did something involving music. When I like something, I can’t give it up.”


脏手指乐队最初在 2013 年由主唱管啸天成立,当时还是一支学生乐队。之后经历几次团员的更迭,现在则加入了吉他手邴晓海、贝斯手张海明以及鼓手赵子龙。


Listen to some of our favorite tracks from Oh! Dirty Fingers below / 点击即可试听脏手指的几首歌曲

In 2017, the band signed a deal with Maybe Mars to release How’d I Turn So Bad? On this raucously crude album, they don’t just talk about crushes and flings, they shout all their dirty secrets at the top of their lungs for everyone to hear. On the track, “I Like Your Girlfriend Too,” Guan sings,

I like your girlfriend too,
I want to see her when she sleeps.
I’ll talk to her when you’ve got nothing to say.
Bring flowers when you’ve given up on romance.

Or the song “Undercover Cop”:

From a righteous vantage, looking down at all this scum
Wipe them out, wipe them all out
Wipe out this whole generation
Wipe out the dancers with their smutty moves
Wipe out the books that lead them astray

“I imagined what it’d be like if I were an undercover officer at a club,” Guan recalls of his initial inspiration. “If I had to spend all night watching that depraved grinding, I probably couldn’t take it.” Often the explicit, raw lyrics are inspired by their own lives. The band has no deeper message, and they don’t pretend to offer the truth and insight that society expects of lyricists. They’ve always stuck to a simple artistic principle: make music about the world they know. In a music scene full of romantic ballads, only a group this unflinchingly frank can satisfy an audience’s thirst for the new and the real. Almeida notes, “We don’t stick to one style. But we always use the same formula: keep it simple.”

2017 年脏手指与独立音乐厂牌兵马司签约,发行专辑《我怎么学的那么坏》。这确实是一张“藏污纳垢”的专辑,生活本就不只有小情小爱值得一提,他们把平常躲在缝隙里的那些小奸小恶也抓出来,写成歌,呐喊给我们听。在一首俗称“用来破坏爱情”的《我也喜欢你的女朋友》里,他们是这样唱的:





Drummer: Alexandre Leal de Almeida / 鼓手: 赵子龙
Drummer: Alexandre Leal de Almeida / 鼓手: 赵子龙
Bassist: Zhang Haiming / 贝斯手: 张海明
Bassist: Zhang Haiming / 贝斯手: 张海明

A fan on their way to an Oh! Dirty Fingers show once received some good advice: don’t wear white shoes—they’ll get trampled and covered in dirt. But don’t worry if your shoes get smudged, because these live performances are the essence of Oh! Dirty Fingers: passion, chaos, and a need to push the envelope.

Their strings tend to break, their drumsticks split in two, their instruments take a beating at every show. On stage they always go all out—they never hold back. Guan describes the exhilaration of singing to a crowd. “You feel like you can touch the sky. There’s nothing in your way, there’s nothing you can’t do. You’re unstoppable, you can shatter boundaries. ” Their ground-thumping concerts make your eardrums feel like they’re going to burst, pushing listeners to their auditory limits.



Vocalist: Guan Xiaotian / 主唱: 管啸天
Vocalist: Guan Xiaotian / 主唱: 管啸天
Guitarist: Bing Xiaohai / 吉他手: 邴晓海
Guitarist: Bing Xiaohai / 吉他手: 邴晓海

Some people call them a punk band, some people call them punk’s bastard children. Guan laughs and says, “We’re just a rock band, it’s as simple as that. In music, I think it’s really important to stay free, stay fresh, and stay creative. And freedom doesn’t respect stylistic boundaries. You can’t limit your art.”

They take a pure and sincere approach to music, and this is their most important quality as artists. Oh! Dirty Fingers has never surrendered their own creativity to cater to the market or to other people’s tastes. Nor have they ever shied away from exposing the restless, reckless spirit of youth. They follow their own rhythm, and even though they’ve faced their share of doubt from the outside world, they stubbornly keep making their music. “It’s not that we don’t care at all what others think, we just care less than most people,” Guan notes. “If you worry too much about what everyone says, you won’t make it in this business.” It’s better to boldly express yourself than to keep quiet and go unnoticed.



Music isn’t an easy path. In China, a lot of young artists find a day job to get by and just make music on the side. Oh! Dirty Fingers is a full-time band—music is their whole life. For all the members, this is probably the only way: their music and lives are inextricably bound together. “Songwriting is a calling for me,” says Bing, and Zhang feels the same, “Music is just an authentic response to life.”

Guan nods in agreement, “Finding another job and just doing music in my spare time would be a little strange, in my opinion. If you don’t give it your all, the things you write split off from your life. If you can’t convince yourself, how can you convince anyone else? Creating gives our lives meaning, so to speak. It means challenging restrictions. For us, pushing limits is about constantly creating, never stopping, and doing the unexpected.”


管啸天也如此同意,“找一份其他工作,闲暇时再做做音乐,在我看来怎么说都有点奇怪。如果你不全心投入,写出来的东西和生活脱节,连自己都说服不了,该怎么说服别人?创作吧,可以说是我们一个重大的生命意义,本身就是一种对极限的挑战。Pushing Limits 对我们来说,就是不停地创造,不停地创作,和出人意料。”

Shop the Push™ wireless earphones at Skullcandy’s Tmall page or official website.

想收获一副属于你自己的 Skullcandy 蓝牙无线耳机 Push™,敬请登陆天猫或者官网订购。

Weibo: ~/脏手指武工队
Facebook: ~/thesefingersaresodirty


Contributor: Yang Yixuan
Videographer: Damien Louise, Paul Gardette, Yang Bingying 
Photographer: David Yen
English Translation: Allen Young

微博: ~/脏手指武工队
Facebook: ~/thesefingersaresodirty


供稿人: Yang Yixuan
摄像师: Damien Louise, Paul Gardette, Yang Bingying 
摄影师: David Yen
中翻英: Allen Young

Turning the Tables 本地人/异乡人?

March 18, 2019 2019年3月18日

On a blistering Sunday afternoon, the staccato beats of Jersey club are kneaded together with the flashy textures of Congolese soukous inside Elevator, one of Shanghai’s most popular—but now defunct—electronic dance venues. A group of young women is huddled behind two DJ mixers on opposite sides of the room instead of on the dance floor.

Started in March 2018, NÜ SHÙ (女术) is a Shanghai-based non-profit DJ collective that teaches women, femme-identified queers, or non-binary individuals with or without musical experience. In addition to Elevator, NÜ SHÙ has also hosted club nights and free workshops at DADA Shanghai, ALL Club, and Daliah. Their curricula range from lectures to technical equipment introductions to practical workshops where participants can bring their own flash drives of .mp3s to practice on CDJs. Prominent Shanghai-based female DJs including MIIIA, DIFAN, JI NA, and the 16-year-old Gouachi have been invited to share their expertise as guest instructors.

一个酷热的星期天下午,揉杂着 Jersey club 断续的节奏与 Congolese soukous 的华丽音效,上海曾最受欢迎的地下电子舞场之一:Elevator 里放着这样的音乐——但现在它却早已关门了。一群年轻女子却并没有挤在舞池里,而是站在两个 DJ 的混音器后面。

NÜ SHÙ 女术”于 2018 年 3 月成立组合,是一个总部位于上海的非盈利性 DJ 集体:她们教授女性和非二元性别的酷儿人群,无论有没有音乐经验皆可。除 Elevator 外,“女术”还在上海 DADA、ALL 和 Daliah 举办俱乐部之夜和免费工作坊活动。他们的课程包括讲座、技术设备介绍、实用研讨会等,在那里,学员们可以携带自己的储存设备来播放 mp3 文件,以练习 CDJs。上海著名的 DJ 们,包括 MIIIA,DIFAN,JI NA,以及年仅 16 岁的 Gouachi 都被邀请来分享他们作为客座导师的专业知识。

The trio running the collective—DJs Asian Eyez, Amber Akilla, and Daliahfind it difficult to pinpoint an exact moment when NÜ SHÙ was conceived. Having all been connected either as housemates or via shared social spheres, the three DJs had common projects and focuses that made the workshop an obvious collaboration. “There’s just like this spirit and energy of women artists that I love to support,” says Asian Eyez. “Why shouldn’t we put together our connections and create something new? This workshop is another step for me—really focusing and reaching out to these girls—this makes me happy.”

Each of the founders brings their own unique sets of skills and connections to the project, pulling together everyone’s resources to fill in any gaps. On top of the founder themselves, NÜ SHÙ also collaborates with friends who are DJs, designers, and photographers to work together across different creative disciplines and create a bigger, self-sustaining organization. “I don’t really see myself as a talker or teacher, and that’s why I like to express myself in putting these kinds of events together,” says Asian Eyez. “I already have contacts when it comes to venues, DJs, and the teachers we need. As long as I’m in this industry, why shouldn’t I support all these women, when I have the ability to?”

“We meet a lot of girls, queer, and non-binary people who just don’t even know where to begin when it comes to DJing,” says Amber Akilla. “They love music but don’t know where to start. I think that just being able to create a space where people feel comfortable to learn new things, share ideas, and meet people is important. That’s more of what we’re trying to create, rather than create DJs.”

小组的三位成员 DJ Asian EyezAmber AkillaDaliah 已经记不清是什么时候有了成立“女术”的想法。三人当初因为共同的社交圈子和作为室友相识,曾一起做过项目,加上相似的理念,最终一起成立了“女术”工作坊。“我一直很希望能支持女性艺术家的精神和能量。”Asian Eye说道,“那为什么我们不结合起来,一起进行新的创作?这个工作坊对我来说是迈出了新的一步——真正去关注和接触这些女性艺术家,这让我感到特别开心。”

作为创始人,她们分别为这个项目带来自己的专长和人脉,将大家的资源整合在一起,互补长短。除了创始人之外,“女术”也会与她们的 DJ、设计师和摄影师朋友合作,让跨越不同创意领域的人走在一起,共同创造出一个更大的、自我维持的组织。“我不觉得自己是演讲家或教师,但是正因如此,我喜欢通过组织这些活动来表达自己。”Asian Eyez 说,“我有场地资源,也有认识的 DJ 和老师。既然我身处这个行业,为什么不趁我有能力的时候去支持一下这个行业里的女性呢?”

Amber Akilla 说:“我们遇到过很多女性,还有 LGBTQI 群体(即同性恋、双性恋、跨性别者、酷儿和无性恋者),他们都不了解怎样才能成为 DJ。他们喜欢音乐,但不知道要从哪里开始。我觉得如果能够创造一个自在的空间,让大家去学习新的东西、分享观点与认识朋友,这样做很必要。所以,事实上,与其说我们在努力培养 DJ,还不如说是想打造这样一个空间。”

From left to right: Asian Eyez, Daliah, and Amber Akilla / 左到右: Asian Eyez, Daliah, and Amber Akilla

NÜ SHÙ is not the first organization of its kind. It follows a longer history paved by the ideas and work of their predecessors, including Discwoman in New York, SIREN in London, and North America-wide Intersessions. After attending an Intersessions workshop in Los Angeles back in 2016, Amber Akilla connected with that group’s co-founder Chippy Nonstop for advice on establishing a workshop structure, and eventually started NÜ SHÙ. As it and similar groups grow, the participants lift each other up, banding together to create a larger global community and support system for non-cis-male DJs.

“女术”并不是同类组织的首创。在它之前,已经有很多类似的组织,包括纽约的 Discwoman、伦敦的 SIREN 和北美地区的 Intersessions,在长时间的运作中,这些组织作出过许多的努力,也留下了很多想法。2016 年,Amber Akilla 参加了在洛杉矶举办的 Intersessions 工作坊。在开始“女术”之前,她也曾就工作坊组织结构的问题咨询过 Intersessions 的联合创始人 Chippy Nonstop 的意见。随着像“女术”这样的本地社团的发展,参与者可以相互扶持,联合起来创造一个属于非顺性男 DJ 的大型全球社团和支持组织。(注:顺性男即 Cis-male,指出生时生物性别是男性,自己也觉得自己是男性的人群。)

At NÜ SHÙ’s first club night, at DADA Shanghai in August 2018, Intersessions instructor Bambii headlined with support from Asian Eyez and Amber Akilla, NÜ SHÙ instructors JI NA and Gouachi, and an open deck at the beginning of the night reserved for NÜ SHÙ students to gain DJ experience in a live club setting. NÜ SHÙ’s roles as both a workshop and event organizer allow for a self-sustaining line of continuity and consistency within the community, in which opportunities for learning can directly link to opportunities for performing.

“When I was growing up, I always felt like it was a competition between women,” says Amber Akilla. “You have to be protective of your own space or whatever you’ve created for yourself because you’re always pitted against each other, especially in the industry. I feel like men have much more space to just create what they want even if what they’re doing already exists. It’s slowly changing through social media—you see more women and non-binary communities sharing and collaborating more.”

去年 8月,“女术”在上海 DADA 酒吧举办了第一次的活动。由 Intersessions 讲师 Bambii 带领,在 Asian Eye 和 Amber Akilla 的支持下,“女术”的 JI NA 和 Gouachi 担任主讲,在当晚让“女术”学员在俱乐部现场学习 DJ 经验。因为同时作为工作坊和活动组织者的角色,让“女术”在社区内实现了自我持续的连续性和一致性,在这种形式下,学习与表演的机会往往是连在一起的。

“在我成长的过程中,我总觉得女人之间充满了竞争。”Amber Akilla 说,“你必须时刻保护好自己的空间或任何你自己的创造,因为大家都像是在互有争斗,特别是在这个行业。但对男性来说,他们却似乎有更多的空间来自由创造,即便他们所创造的是一些已经存在的事物。而随着社交媒体的发展,这种情况慢慢地得到了改变——你可以看到越来越多的女性和跨性别人群在共享和协作。”

Although it’s found inspiration in Intersessions and Discwoman,  NÜ SHÙ is still localized and rooted in Shanghai—meaning that the steps, decisions, and priorities in community-building can look different. For each workshop, they invite two instructors to teach at opposite ends of the space, one in Mandarin and one in English. Contrasting against Discwoman’s explicitly political focus and speaking out against sexism, NÜ SHÙ has emphasized that rather than resisting gender structures, their priority is on learning and connecting through music.

“Our experiences as women mostly exist outside of China, so it’s really important to me, as a weird visitor who’s local but non-local, to not force any identity politics onto people here,” says Amber Akilla. “How gender inequality and feminist issues exist in China is just different from the West, and it’s not my place.”

虽然“女术”的创立灵感来自于 Intersessions 和 Discwoman,但它仍是一个扎根于上海的本地组织——这意味着团体的运作步骤、决策和在社区建设的优先级可能会有所不同。每次工作坊,“NÜ SHÙ 女术”都会邀请两名主讲,分别在空间的两端以普通话和英语授课。并且,与 Discwoman 针对性别歧视的鲜明政治立场和反对声音不同,“女术”是强调而不是抵制性别结构,其首要重点是学习,以及如何通过音乐把人们连接起来。

“作为女性,我们大部分的生活经验是在中国以外的地方,在这里,我们是‘奇怪的游客’,既是本地人也是异乡人,所以我们不想将自己的政治观点强加于这里的人们。”Amber Akilla 说,“中国的性别不平等和女权问题与其它西方国家的情况是不一样的。所以这里并不是我的主场。”

Moreover, the founders agree that gender inequality is not as embedded in China’s young and developing music scenes as it is in the US and Europe’s long history of club music. “I feel like for us in Shanghai, it’s much more welcoming for women—as a female DJ you’re not questioned as much here from my experience,” says Amber Akilla. “Even though the scene isn’t as ‘bro-y,’ we can say that most spaces are inclusive of men, and a lot of the time, women and minorities feel intimidated to start their own thing—so that’s why this project is femme-queer-focused. This is our trying to lead by example. You don’t have to try to get on lineups that are male-dominated, you can create your own line-up.”

Creating a space is step one of the continuous process that is “community”—sustaining a community is work that requires constant reflection and dialogue. Because of the founders’ personal experiences, NÜ SHÙ started out as a DJ workshop, yet they acknowledge the possibilities of expanding outside of Shanghai and trying other formats and skill sharing. They also want to take their time in figuring out the best way to develop and maintain the existing community.

此外,“女术”的创始人一致认为,在中国这个年轻和新兴的音乐领域,性别不平等并不像美国和欧洲这些有着悠久俱乐部历史的地方一样根深蒂固。Amber Akilla 说:“我觉得在上海,女性 DJ 会更受欢迎一些——从我自己的经验来看,女性 DJ 在这里受到的质疑会更少一些。虽然这个行业不能算是完全男性的天下,但我们可以说,大部分地方都是男性为主的,很多时候,女性就像少数群体一样,不敢去开始自己的事业——正因为这样,这个项目才会以女性 LGBT 群体为重点。我们想要通过行动告诉其他人,你不必试图在由男性占主导的世界里排队等候自己的机会,你完全可以创造出属于自己的天地。”

创建这样的空间只是打造“社区”的其中一步——要维持这样的社区,需要不断反思和对话。因为创始人的个人经验,“女术”最开始是作为一个 DJ 工作坊的形式存在的;但是,她们也表示,将来会有可能扩展到上海以外的地方,她们在尝试其他形式的技能分享活动,同时也在努力思考发展和维持现有社区的最佳途径。

Instagram: @nvshushanghai


Photographers & Contributors: Jasmine Lin, April Lin
Additional Images Courtesy of NÜ SHÙ
Chinese Translation: Olivia Li

Instagram: @nvshushanghai


摄影师与供稿人: Jasmine Lin, April Lin
附加图片由 NÜ SHÙ 提供
英译中: Olivia Li

Feel the Night Breeze 露骨的晚风

March 15, 2019 2019年3月15日

“I don’t believe you can depersonalize your work—that’s too idealistic,” says Wu Liewei, whose photos, like everything about him, pulsate with energy. This energy might be understood as the collision of the frenetic and the still, like a breaker crashing against a reef.

“My works pay homage to intuition and the subconscious,” he says, though he’s also been known to click the shutter 70 times just to get the image he wants. What Wu really wants seems to be to satisfy some unmet craving.

“去个人化太理想主义了,我不相信。” 这句话来自邬烈威,他是一位摄影师。他的作品和人一样,透出精力旺盛的样子。这种旺盛可以理解成是疯狂和沉寂的相互冲撞,就像浪花拍打在礁石上。他说:“我做作品更尊崇直觉和潜意识” 。但同时,他也会因想要的一瞬镜头而重复按 70 次快门。欲求不满才像是邬烈威追逐的目的。

Wu grew up in Ningbo and moved to Hangzhou for college, but he dropped out after one year. “It was really boring, and at the time I just sort of wanted to be free,” he says. He always liked to explore on foot, and in summer 2013 he began using a camera to record his observations, taking pictures like crazy, as a sort of urban adventure. “I remember I had a Canon 600D, one of the most basic cameras,” he says. He didn’t begin seriously studying photography until he ordered a twin-lens reflex camera. Given how outgoing and talkative he is, it’s hard to imagine him ever being shy, yet he says before he picked up a camera he was quite withdrawn. Photography opened up a valve, and the words and thoughts he used to keep inside came pouring out.

宁波长大的他,大学来到杭州,一年多后选择了辍学,“特别无聊,加上当时又有点渴望自由吧”。2013年夏天,爱到处转的邬烈威开始用摄影记录观察,疯了似的去哪都用相机拍,像是种都市冒险,“我记得那台还是最普通的佳能单反 600D”。然后他又在网上看到胶片的双反相机,买了台后,正式琢磨起摄影。现在的他很健谈,网络上和生活中都是。但你不会想到现在看起来外向又健谈的邬烈威,在接触摄影前,内向而不太说话。摄影就像打开了他体内的某个水龙头,积蓄的话语与观察哗啦地流了出来。

The first thing that catches your eye in Two-Dimensional Code Maze, Wu’s first series, which he began shooting in 2013, are the naked bodies. “Only when you strip off your clothes are you your true self,” he explains. Young, bare-skinned figures appear against a variety of backdrops: city towers, abandoned houses, wooded areas on the outskirts of town. Everything feels both natural and out of place, and it’s hard to imagine what the models would look like with clothes on. “I want viewers to cast aside their labels, to be in this setting and explore how that person relates to that place at that time,” he says. For him, each photograph is a mirror. But what do all these mirrors reflect?

Wu says he can see himself continuing to shoot this series as long as he lives. But he also has another project underway, which he calls The Best of Times.

他最早的系列是 2013 年的《二维宫坊》。连续的裸体,是视觉上对这个系列的第一印象,“去除衣服表现的自己,才是真的自己。” 脱下外衣的年轻身体出现在城市楼宇、郊野绿林、废弃空房之中,一切看上去自然而又带来冲击。我们想象不到穿上外衣,他们会是什么模样。“我想让人去掉原本一切的标签,处于环境中,探索当时那个人和那个地方之间的关系。” 邬烈威说摄影是镜子,那么这一面面镜子,反射出了什么?《二维宫坊》他说会拍到死,除此之外,还有《最好的年代》。

In 2013, the same year he started Two-Dimensional Code Maze, he began documenting his peers, and the photos he’s taken make up the series The Best of Times. “I’m actually a pessimist,” he explains when asked about the title, “but I wanted give this series a more positive name.” The photos focus on his friends, though some are of online contacts who volunteered to model. “I’ve shot a lot of people. Some have kids, some have their own business, some have been abroad for school, and some have even spent time in prison.” Since photographing them, Wu has quietly followed their lives. “I’m thinking of tracking them down in a few years and shooting them again,” he explains.

Most of these snapshots are intentionally styled and posed. Perhaps, as Wu says, “there’s no such thing as a truly candid photograph.” But what is truth? In this pile of images, one figure holds a toy gun and gazes into the distance, while another one looks up, mouth open, standing in a corner. A third face is covered in coins. Are these not true? “Sometimes I feel I’m really not taking pictures—I’m more of an observer, using the camera as a recording device.”

同年,他开始用摄影记录身边的年轻人,这个系列就是《最好的年代》。我问他为什么取这个名字,他说:“其实我是悲观的,但我想作品名积极一点”。这个系列他基本是拍的朋友,也有自发找过来想被拍的网友,“我拍过很多人,他们有些已经生儿育女,当老板的、出国留学的、甚至进牢的。”拍完后,邬烈威仍然会默默关注他们的生活,“我想着过几年再找这些人拍拍。”你能看到,这个系列定格的瞬间大多是刻意为之的造型、身体形态。也许就像他说的:“没有真正意义上的抓拍” 。但什么才是真实呢?这一大堆照片,举起玩具手枪的眼神、靠墙角仰着的头和上扬的嘴角、落满钱币的脸,就不是真实吗?“我有些时候觉得我真的不是拍照的,我更像是一个观察者,只不过摄影当是个记录工具而已。”

Two-Dimensional Code Maze and The Best of Times explore individuals, identities, and social labels, and they seem liberating both for Wu and for the people he shoots—like scratching an itch. Even more liberating was completing his handmade book, Explicit Night Wind, in late 2016. At only 92 pages, it’s surprisingly heavy, and it takes about an hour to look over carefully. “People often say my work is explicit, but what does ‘explicit’ mean?” This question is one of the reasons he created this book. He says he’s seen people looking through it be brought to tears.

《二维宫坊》和《最好的年代》主要是探索人、身份和社会标签,也像是给年轻人和他自己挠痒而伴随的释放。而更让他自己释放的是 2016 年末,这本亲手做的手工书——《露骨的晚风》。整整 92 页,男生一只手拿都会觉得重。如果你仔细读下来,需要大约一个小时。“经常有人说我的作品露骨,但什么才是露骨呢?”,这个疑问是他做这本书的原因之一。他还告诉我,有人读着读着就当他面哭了。

Beyond the large number of photographs and images of people, in this book he tried something new: he recorded the wind blowing over various natural obects, put the recordings on a palm-sized circuit board, and stuck it in the book. “The first page had sound. I sampled the wind and put the recording on a circuit board. But then it broke.”
Paging through the book gives a more intimate feel than seeing the photos in a gallery. It shows images on all kinds of materials and forms a sort of “graphic narrative.” Going through it page by page triggers a visual response and personal memories. “By flipping through this book, you’re actually creating wind,” says Wu. These images lead us through boredom to a world of imagination and vitality.



Last year Wu stopped grabbing his camera every time he goes out. He used to think that taking pictures and documenting things was important, documenting. Now he says, “I often forget to take my camera. When I see something I want to shoot, I just stare and blink, and I feel like I’ve got it.”

It’s like they say: to take a good picture, you have to see a good picture.



Weibo: ~/邬烈威
Instagram: @wuliewei1123


Contributor: Yang Liazhi
English Translation: Allen Young

微博: ~/邬烈威
Instagram: @wuliewei1123


供稿人: Yang Liazhi
中译英: Allen Young