Ephemeral Encounters
“Travelling is such a perk for me,” says Yuge Zhou, chuckling with a bright smile. Stemming from her organic inkling for motion and new connectivity, Zhou’s work is informed by nostalgia and a sense of place. The Chinese-born video and installation artist would go on to talk about the magic of relationships in flux—the human bonds forged across states, countries, and continents, through encounters that are oftentimes transient.
Now based in Chicago, Yuge Zhou creates lens-based work that captures the glorious and engulfing beauty of nature and cityscapes alike. In this interview, she shares her journey into artmaking, her exploration of interpersonal interactions, and the simultaneity within urban existence.
Recently, Zhou received the 2024 Joyce Foundation Artadia Award. Her current exhibitions include Reflections on Practice (on view at 21c Museum Hotel, Chicago, through December 31, 2024), Daily Rhythm (on view at ART MATTERS Contemporary Art Museum, Hangzhou, China, through May 2025), and In the Spirit of Friendship (on view at Dom Museum Wien, Vienna, through August 31, 2025).
Xuezhu Jenny Wang: Has art always played a role in your life? How did your journey in the arts start?
Yuge Zhou: I grew up as a child singer in China. My parents are musicians, and I was the lead singer on a popular TV show called Little Dragon Boy (小龙人). However, my parents encouraged me to pursue a “real” career, so I studied Information Science and earned a bachelor's degree. Then, I came to the US to pursue an MS at Syracuse University. Moving here was a turning point for me because it gave me the freedom to explore new interests. During my time in Syracuse, a friend gifted me a black-and-white film camera, and I started photographing the cityscape, landscape, and people. Being in upstate New York, Syracuse had this snowy, natural environment that fascinated me.
As I accumulated a photography portfolio, I decided to enroll in a community college in Syracuse while still pursuing my master’s degree. I spent about a year there, building a more substantial portfolio. My professor there encouraged me to apply for MFA programs, and that’s how I ended up at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago. The process has been quite spontaneous and organic.
XJW: That’s such a fascinating journey. What made you decide to work with lens-based media in your practice?
YZ: I have an intuition for framing. When I pick up a camera, it comes to me naturally. At SAIC, a professor introduced me to video art. I became fascinated by how time shapes a narrative. While still images can tell a story in one frame, video allowed me to explore how stories evolve and progress. Over time, I expanded my practice into media installations and filmmaking, working on short narratives and other projects.
XJW: If a viewer accesses your video work halfway through, or if they can’t stay to finish watching the full piece, do you ever feel like part of your work is lost because of how time-based media engages audiences differently?
YZ: It's definitely a negotiation. People’s attention spans are shorter now, especially with the constant doomscrolling. But I’ve seen people engage deeply with immersive video installations for a really long time, while others may only stay a few seconds. Once a piece is finished, it becomes a collaboration between me and the audience. If someone resonates with the work, they’ll stay longer; if not, that’s okay. I’ve come to accept that.
XJW: Many of your works evoke themes of construction and architectural meta-narratives. How did you become interested in built environments and urban settings?
YZ: I grew up in Beijing during the second stage of China’s economic reforms. When I left Beijing, it was around the time of the 2008 Olympic Games. That event was hugely significant and completely transformed the city. I saw firsthand how Beijing evolved into a modern metropolis with high-rises—some of them very experimental and wonky—springing up everywhere. Then, I moved to Syracuse, a small and quiet place. It was a complete cultural shock for me. This contrast made me curious about observing spaces—whether they were natural landscapes or urban environments—and how people interacted within them.
Migrating between Chicago, Beijing, and Syracuse, I became increasingly fascinated by the fragmented, transient nature of urban life. Cities, though large, are full of overlapping micro-narratives—brief encounters with strangers, fleeting moments of connection. These moments constitute the rhythm of urban existence, and I'm interested in exploring this sense of simultaneity and the ephemeral nature of city life.
XJW: So it seems like you are interested in both natural and constructed landscapes, how they coexist, and how they inform the human presence.
YZ: Exactly. Each place has its unique identity, and I try to capture that sense of place in my work. Chicago, for instance, has a blend of natural and built environments. I love that harmony. Syracuse, on the other hand, is more landscape-driven.
I’m also interested in how people create social networks within these spaces. My collage work reflects the continuous and intermittent nature of these networks and their interactions with the environment.
XJW: This reminds me of your 2017 work, Underground Circuit, which wonderfully captures these encounters within a very public structure, which is the subway.
YZ: Thank you! Filming it was quite an adventure. In NYC, you are technically not supposed to bring a tripod in subway stations unless you have a permit from the MTA, so I got stopped a couple of times. It made the whole process a bit risky and challenging, but I was so captivated by the idea.
Because subway platforms in New York face each other, it’s like watching a performance; people on the platform across from you look like actors on a stage. That theatricality of urban life really intrigued me. The black-and-white configuration looks like contact sheets—a very classic representation of my early work.
XJW: Much of your work concerns the investigation of geosocial history and realities. A lot of social and political changes have taken place since the onset of COVID-19, and given the election and the ongoing wars, has this affected your practice?
YZ: The pandemic marked a major shift for me. I started when the East of the day meets the West of the night because I was inspired by a phone conversation with my mom about how long we hadn’t seen each other. I pictured two figures standing on opposite sides of the Pacific Ocean, longing for each other but separated by a vast distance. In the piece, the camera moves across the horizon, connecting the sunrise and sunset to reflect distance and connection.
As travel bans began, I made Moon Drawings. The full moon represents family reunion in Chinese culture, so I took a suitcase and dragged it in concentric circles across the ground near Lake Michigan. Later, I created Love Letters, featuring two dancers communicating through body language. My work has grown increasingly personal. While my earlier projects focused on cityscapes and environments, my work now is rooted in personal stories about home and in-betweenness.
XJW: What topics are you exploring/planning to examine now? Could you share more about your future projects?
YZ: Right now, I’m also working on The Chinese Lady, a short film about Afong Moy, the first recorded Chinese woman in America. She was brought over in 1834 by traders as a “marketing tool” and was on public display for 17 years before her record disappeared. Without archival footage, I used a ginkgo tree—native to East Asia and brought to New York around the same time—as a metaphor for her story. Another ongoing project stems from a personal frustration: my name is often mispronounced in the US, even by close friends. I’m creating a playful documentary of my friends attempting to say my Chinese name on camera, to tap into the larger conversation of language, relationships, and cross-cultural identity.
My other project was shaped by the recent Democratic National Convention in Chicago, which happened on the same street as my apartment building. I’ve lived there for nearly ten years but had no idea it was so close to the Consulate of Israel. The protests during the convention were intense. My building was surrounded by police, and I found myself caught between protesters and officers. I always carry my camera, so I began documenting what I saw. At one point, people mistook me for a journalist, and I got sandwiched between the police and protesters. It was chaotic—I honestly felt like I could have been hurt. Later, I filmed from my apartment, getting a bird’s-eye view of the street.
This experience inspired an idea for a short film exploring how spaces transform. I want to tell the story from the perspective of my apartment building, treating it as a character. Most days, it’s just an unremarkable place on a quiet Chicago street, but during that week, it became the center of political tension—a battleground. The contrast between the ordinary and the extraordinary fascinates me.
XJW: Where is “home” for you?
YZ: “Home” is such a loaded word for me now. I’m not sure I have a single answer. It’s where my community is—Chicago feels like home because of my artistic community, friends, and studio. Beijing is also home because that’s where my family is, although I sometimes feel out of place because the city has changed so much. Still, I feel like I have two homes, but I don’t fully belong in either. I think this tension will take a lifetime to resolve, but my art helps me explore it.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.