Frank WANG Yefeng: Failing Toward Liberation

Digital avatars of artist shown on computer screen with wires connecting memento mori and neon lights, installation view of Frank WANG Yefeng, Avatopology at NARS Foundation, curated by Natasha Chuk.

Installation view of Frank WANG Yefeng: Avatopology at NARS Foundation, curated by Natasha Chuk. Courtesy of the artist.

Interdisciplinary artist Frank WANG Yefeng’s multicomponent conceptual work Avatopology results from a philosophical and playful journey of research, collaboration, and worldbuilding. At NARS Foundation, Wang’s solo exhibition explored digital nomadism, the creative potential of archives, and the satisfaction of unknowability. In an interview with curator Natasha Chuk, Wang shares how he grapples with perceived failure, the philosophies and wordplay that guide his thinking, Soviet hauntology, and in-betweenness. 

Natasha Chuk: How would you characterize your work and creative approach overall?

Frank WANG Yefeng: I'm an interdisciplinary artist. I work with various media, including 3D animation and video, sculpture, painting, drawing, and writing. Time-based work and installation are two core media used in my practice. You can often see whimsical digital characters and otherworldly landscapes in my video works and 3D animations. 

Some key themes, including in-betweenness, nomadism, and groundlessness, shape my approach to worldbuilding. This interest initially arises from a transnational existence and my persistent feeling of “not belonging anywhere.” I'm interested in turning these ambivalent spaces into a productive and emancipatory atmosphere for forming unique identities. It’s a reimagination of belonging and a way to probe new connections with our world and our very existence. 

Digital avatars of artist shown on computer screen with wires connecting memento mori and neon lights, installation view of Frank WANG Yefeng, Avatopology at NARS Foundation, curated by Natasha Chuk.

Installation view of Frank WANG Yefeng: Avatopology at NARS Foundation, curated by Natasha Chuk. Courtesy of the artist.

NC: Avatopology has multiple components, and none of them feel more dominant than the other. I’m curious what inspired this project and how it took shape. 

FWY: The project started with commissioning freelancers from an online marketplace called Fiverr to create 3D models of my digital avatars, using a blurry photo of me as a reference. I unconditionally accepted each completed digital asset and used them for animation. Throughout the process, I found that the many dialogues with these collaborators became the true essence of the project, now archived in the videos, installation, and zine. I was also intrigued by the fact that most of my collaborators were from the Global South. Many of them are digital nomads situated not at one fixed geolocation but at many locations simultaneously, digitally and physically.

For Avatopology, I was interested in exploring Fiverr’s capacities and problems, including its alienation of labor and its capitalist nature. From 2022 to 2023, I had the opportunity to research Yuk Hui’s concept of digital objects at Asia Art Archive in America and participated in a Zine Residency there. That’s how the Avatopology zine was produced. This research mobilized my interest in creating a new type of creative network. Given the social turmoil of 2020, we urgently needed new ways to look at our culture, identities, communities, and technologies. So, Fiverr became a perfect platform for my “social experiment,” if you will.

Artist zine with dark green cover and black fish bone pattern on a white pedestal, avatopology installation by Frank WANG yefeng at NARS foundation, curated by natasha chuk digital nomadism, fiverr, technology.

Artist zine by Frank WANG Yefeng, presented as part of Avatopology at NARS Foundation, curated by Natasha Chuk. Courtesy of the artist.

NC: During COVID, nomadism wasn’t entirely non-existent, but most people were at a standstill. The lockdowns created an interesting contrast to nomadism, which is about fluidity and mobility. The pandemic made us more reliant on digital networks but stopped us in whatever geographic location we were in at the time. 

FWY: The pandemic made us question our “normalities” and think more deeply about our existence. Your point about reliance on digital networks is also essential to consider. In my work, I’ve been dealing with the idea of “nomadism” and exploring my subjectivity through it.  But it’s important not to romanticize the concept of “nomadism” and the word “digital nomad.” The first challenge is the technical threshold — digital nomadism requires technical skills, reliable infrastructure like a high-speed internet connection and a capable computer, often multilingual abilities, and other resources. These are barriers that aren’t often addressed.

More critically, digital platforms like Fiverr present systemic issues. Fiverr’s gig economy functions similarly to other marketplaces like Amazon, but instead of selling manufactured goods, it deals with real people’s labor. The rating system enforces hierarchies, with the company's philosophy of connecting freelancers to businesses more efficiently. Formed in 2010 in Tel Aviv and becoming a public company within its 14 years of operation, Fiverr functions highly efficiently as a capitalist entity.

The benefit, though, is the flexibility. Technically, one can work from anywhere. The platform is an interesting space for dialogue, allowing for conversations with people worldwide. 

Four colored pencil drawings of octopus and neuro network as digital metaphor, installation view of Frank WANG Yefeng, Avatopology at NARS Foundation, curated by Natasha Chuk.

Installation view of Frank WANG Yefeng: Avatopology at NARS Foundation, curated by Natasha Chuk. Courtesy of the artist.

NC: One of the main points Yuk Hui makes with his work is thinking about digital objects beyond the idea of data or information. How can we think about them in terms of being at a material remove? 

FWY: It’s a fascinating relationship. It’s not just about engaging freelancers but also about the evidence being generated as digital objects within this system. Yuk Hui contemplates the essence of digital objects, which, in its simplest form, is data. As ubiquitous as they are, their nature remains unclear for most of us. This ambiguity attracts me. 

For example, right now, we’re two digital objects connecting through this interface called Zoom, having a productive conversation. Some thinkers, such as Michael Sandel at Harvard University, emphasize the ethics of face-to-face communication and interaction, which I appreciate. But I also believe meaningful exchanges can happen in digital and physical communities alike. In a world that’s becoming increasingly tech-driven, how do we make more meaningful conversations? For me, that’s actually why I consider the most critical part of Avatopology to be the dialogues I had with the freelancers.

I was thinking about the term “digital nomad.” This term, first coined by ​​Tsugio Makimoto in 1997, really proliferated during the pandemic. To this day, it's often just seen as a new lifestyle. The usage is less about new creativity but more about creating more joy in the context of industrial capitalism, generating fortune while having fun. There has been little in-depth philosophical discourse on digital nomadism. And for me, exploring this idea ties to my overall exploration of “nomadic subjectivity.”

NC: What are some of the other philosophies that guide your thinking? How might you philosophize the idea of the nomad, or the digital nomad more specifically? 

FWY: I guess I take the nomadic way of life as a metaphor for intellectual freedom and boundless explorations. I also use it to scrutinize the traditional ideas of identity and belonging. As Vilém Flusser once said, “Exile is the breeding ground of new creativity.” It is about actively finding meanings from the unfamiliar and curiously making new connections. 

The essential risk of using a platform like Fiverr is that you are constantly working against a rigid, efficiency-driven model. But if you engage it with a critical mind, its hierarchy is quickly revealed. Many of my collaborators on Fiverr are from the Global South. They are often underpaid and thought of as cheap labor in the digital industry. 

Digital avatars of artist shown on computer screen with wires connecting memento mori and neon lights, installation view of Frank WANG Yefeng, Avatopology at NARS Foundation, curated by Natasha Chuk.

Installation view of Frank WANG Yefeng: Avatopology at NARS Foundation, curated by Natasha Chuk. Photo by Man-Ling Cheng.

But then our dialogue kicks in. When I first started talking to these freelancers to make this creative network, I had one goal: I aimed to encourage them to work with true agency, instead of as service providers. Regarding authorship, I tried to experiment with removing myself as the sole decision-maker in the creative process. I didn’t want to dictate every element of the work. That’s why I collaborated with freelancers—to see what they could come up with on their own.

However, there is an inherent paradox when it comes to bypassing a hierarchical way of thinking, as long as you operate through a platform structured around precisely this hierarchy. When I approach you, saying that I’d like you to make work via your own creativity, are you genuinely functioning autonomously, or are you still another node in that network? The danger in this process is that, too often, I find myself operating in ways not so different from the hierarchical system of Fiverr. 

In that sense, Avatopology was probably destined to “fail” from the very beginning. As artists or human beings in general, we don't like to exhibit our failures. However, through our discussion, I realized that when I can fully embrace failure and display it as is—I am liberated. That’s why this failure has become transformative for me. I feel I can actually start working on the project again, as the perceived failure is turned into something meaningful, which is the dialogue.

NC: It creates an opportunity to examine some of these questions, including what exactly failed?

FWY: It’s also about rethinking what we value as success or failure. On Fiverr, the “service provider” is required to deliver something bought with specific expectations, often following a very rigid anticipation of the exchange. The “service provider’’ then has to match that outcome precisely. For this project, though, I set a rule for myself to never reject any of the freelancers' delivery. I accepted whatever they gave me, trying to remove restrictive expectations from the process. But even then, I realized that this approach didn’t eliminate the pressures or concerns.

NC: There’s a certain rebellion to your work, some of which I attribute to your use of humor and absurdity, despite the more serious issues to think about: exploitation and the alienation of workers, the struggle of labor across geographic lines, and the idea of de-romanticizing digital nomadism. 

FWY: On one hand, I enjoy the research process. Oftentimes, the visual evidence of the research is shared with the viewers in the final works. At the same time, I’m drawn to humor, playfulness, and absurdity. It feels like a natural extension of my own personality and my attitude toward the world. I want to preserve these honest qualities as a creator: to embrace curiosity and engage with the world's anarchic nature.

Lately, I’ve been reflecting a lot on the true meaning of creativity. It’s actually about allowing yourself to be a little “stupid,” to not always “knowing.” Maybe that’s why I find myself moving away from being overly explanatory in my future work.

Digital avatars of artist shown on computer screen with wires connecting memento mori and neon lights, installation view of Frank WANG Yefeng, Avatopology at NARS Foundation, curated by Natasha Chuk.

Installation view of Frank WANG Yefeng: Avatopology at NARS Foundation, curated by Natasha Chuk. Photo by Man-Ling Cheng.

NC: Your work feels somewhat autobiographical. There are subtle hints of self-portraiture: the blurred image prompt, conversations with Fiverr creators, and mind maps that show the relationships connecting your ideas.

FWY: They are a bit autobiographical as they often reflect my honest contemplations and experiences. I do want to keep my works open-ended enough, not only for the viewers but also for myself, allowing me to open up to ambiguity and childish curiosity. 

NC: I’m curious about your background in sculpture. Avatopology is installed in a way that posits information as connected but floating/suspended. If we were to give shape to digital objects in transit, they might look like this. The piece materializes both digital networks and digital nomadism.

FWY: I studied sculpture for my BFA in Shanghai, being part of the last generation shaped by what a curator friend Xin Wang calls “Soviet hauntology”—a cultural doctrine and aesthetic rooted in socialist realism. It influences how things are represented and imposes an uncanny way of seeing and thinking. In college, I began making digital imaging and animation works “secretly” with tools like Photoshop and Maya, which became outlets for my imagination. My sculptural training helped me pick up virtual 3D programs quickly, as it gave me a strong understanding of depth, volume, and the spatial relationship between objects.

With this background, I’m drawn to the interplay between virtual and physical spaces. In Avatopology, digital objects are brought back into tangible space. I thought a lot about the use of space, the relationships between elements, and the dynamic, non-static nature of this structure. These days, I’ve stopped worrying so much about breaking away from the realist sculpture training; instead, I focus on transforming it with new tools and interesting techniques.

I also noticed an important function of a platform like Fiverr: It serves as an archive, especially one of dialogue. Bernard Stiegler uses the term “tertiary retention,” which refers to a form of managing memory and ideas that relies on technology. An archive is not only a storage device, but also a source of new ideas when people return to it later. It’s a material form that transmits and transforms knowledge. I love this idea, and it directly led me to make the zine at Asia Art Archive in America (which is itself a wonderful archive). Therefore, to me, the most meaningful part of Avatopology is the archived dialogues with all these freelancers. 

NC: This calls to mind Jacques Derrida's concept of archive fever and the archivization of everything. Today, everything's tracked, logged, or time-stamped. The contents of archives might be interesting, but they will eventually be used to train AI to create some new “problem-solving” mechanism. The archive becomes the digital object that eventually replaces us as nodes in the system.

FWY: Yuk Hui also wrote an essay titled Archivist Manifesto. As you said, we now have all these technologies that make archiving much easier, and everybody is an archivist in the network space. Therefore, “What are you archiving?” and “For what are you archiving?” are two essential questions that everybody has to ask themselves. 

NC: And we can also ask: What are we not choosing to archive? What isn’t archivable at all? Now, let me pivot and ask what you’re working on next. How is Avatopology evolving or feeding into other projects or ideas? 

FWY: The installation can expand! I’m very keen to develop Avatopology and start a second volume of the zine. I’d love to work on more of the avatars that I collected during the collaboration. I haven't finished even half of them yet.

Meanwhile, I'm also working on a new project, a large-scale multimedia installation. That project is about building a world based on an uncanny “in-between” space, such as the desert, to challenge our concepts of the past, present, and future, as well as our sense of belonging. A lot of footage I’ve shot for this new project was actually taken in real no man's lands.  

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

Frank WANG Yefeng: Avatopology was curated by Natasha Chuk and was on view at NARS Project Space. A live performance by musician Dan Lippel and composer Douglas Boyce took place on October 18, 2024.


Natasha Chuk

Natasha Chuk, PhD is a New York City-based media theorist, arts writer, educator, and independent curator whose work examines the intersection of art, philosophy, and creative technologies. She is the author of Vanishing Points: Articulations of Death, Fragmentation, and the Unexperienced Experience of Created Objects (Intellect, 2015) and the forthcoming Photo Obscura: The Photographic in Post-Photography (Intellect, 2025).

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