Works

00 Replica Series is an experimental simulator that imagines non-human computational lifeforms as fragile, intimate, and in need of care. Drawing from close studies of hacked and modded Tamagotchi handheld pets, Zhang constructs a hybrid replica woven from her own DNA data–reimagining the replica’s physical structure, electronics, and embedded game. The work asks how much of our humanity is projected into technological companions and what it means for humans to nurture machines. Positioned between artifact and organism, the work reframes care as a reciprocal relationship between humans and machines.

Wong’s sculptural video work reimagines the Taiwanese folk practice of placing packs of 乖乖 (guai guai, meaning “be obedient”) snacks—particularly the green coconut-flavored bags—on machines and electronics to ensure flawless operation. Animating these everyday “good luck” offerings as softly breathing forms, the piece draws on the cultural belief that guai guai commands machines to behave without error, while echoing deeper societal demands for unquestioning obedience. Through rhythmic pulses of breath and a mythic narrative of eternal conformity, Wong explores how the imperative to “be guai” permeates not only rationalised technological systems but human life itself—from childhood rewards to lifelong pursuits of purity and harmony. The work reveals the persistence of ritual, anxiety, and control in modern infrastructures, where superstition quietly sustains efficiency, prosperity, and the endless cycle of never being “guai enough.”

Bishoujo Does Not Incarnate is a playable work that dissects the familiar bishoujo (美少女 or ‘beautiful girl’) avatar popularised in the social gaming platform VRChat and turns it inside out. Through humour and absurdity, the game peels back the bishoujo's smiling, glossy skin to reveal its skeleton and hollow interior. Played using a custom-modded PlayStation controller, the game forges new and unexpected connections between player and avatar parts, while simultaneously disrupting immersion in the virtual body. Interwoven conversations between characters reflect on the materiality of the virtual avatar and the strange history of the bishoujo icon. By foregrounding the virtual avatar’s artificial anatomy, Line of Piers interrogates the tension and strange intimacy that come from inhabiting virtual bodies.

Flesh Drive is a video installation that treats the human body as both an interface and a spectacle of consumption. Projected onto a fleshy soft latex screen embedded with vein-like wiring, the work oscillates between a journey through a digestive tract and an avatar performing an ASMR mukbang. The sound and imagery are deliberately suspended between attraction and discomfort, balanced at the threshold where the viewer becomes entangled as both consumer and the consumed. Rather than an idealised or abstracted body, Ho renders the body close up, zoomed in, porous, and excessive. Flesh Drive situates the viewer as caught between attraction and repulsion, between consuming images and being implicated within them.

litany for a failing machine is a sound installation that examines the theological logics embedded in contemporary narratives of technological progress, with a particular focus on artificial intelligence. The work stages a breakdown between political authority and moral urgency through a descending, recursive sermon delivered in an AI-cloned voice. Emitted from a towering monolithic structure, the sermon is structured as a chain of semantic transformations that mirrors liturgical repetition. Over time, the language degrades, losing moral clarity and sliding into semantic instability and absurdity. Situated within the artist’s ongoing research into necrosonics, the installation approaches sound and voice not as representational media but as infrastructural mechanisms through which power and belief are organised. The cloned voice becomes a site of extraction, severed from consent and embodied presence, and operationalised to reproduce affect rather than meaning. As a necrosonic formation, it functions as a conduit through which authority is constructed and circulated while progressively destabilising its own conditions of legitimacy.

Aunty 101 is a VR film with an explorable set, situated in Drift Alley—a speculative Southeast Asian cyberpunk back-alley world inspired by Little India in Singapore. The environment is populated by precarious NPCs, side-hustlers, griefers, and micro-economies operating at the fringes of the metaverse: SideQuest HR firms, Auto-Fishing Shops, Loot Crate Pawnshops. Acting as a beginner’s guide to this unstable world, Aunty 101 is its oldest ghost, where she repairs misaligned limbs, haunted wallets, and leaky inventories while dispensing half-remembered wisdom. The work explores survival, care, and orientation within marginal digital futures.