Liyan Ye
Shanghai, China
How does photography relate to your artistic identity?
Photography relates to my artistic identity as a space of freedom and exploration alongside filmmaking, video essays, and writing as a columnist. While writing feels like home and videography functions as a pathway through the garden, photography is my most adventurous lifeworld. It is a playground where I can experiment spontaneously and intuitively, without worrying about results or final outcomes. Through photography, I allow myself to be candid and present, embracing chance and immediacy as essential parts of my creative identity.
In your project, you talk about ‘fragile acts of optimism in times of crisis’. How does that relate to art and youth in the place where you live?
Shanghai is often presented as a major tourist destination, defined by iconic sights such as the Bund or Nanjing Road, but the city also offers hidden, low-budget alternatives like the Yangtze ferry or Jinshan Beach. These places, often overlooked, reveal that if budget travel is possible in Shanghai, it is possible throughout China. The title Better Than Nothing, borrowed from an online review of one of these inexpensive attractions, reflects this idea: when escape options are limited, having something, even if imperfect, is still better than nothing. These alternatives are especially frequented by the working class and migrant workers, young people who move to large cities in search of opportunity and who often face overwork, intensified after COVID. While leisure and travel are commonly framed as forms of relief, they are frequently shaped by social media consumption and broader systems of exploitation, leaving questions like “Are we really getting better?” and “Who are we?” unresolved. In this context, art, ideally a source of relief, inspiration, and passion, can sometimes fall into the same logic, becoming another consumable image. Yet art does not need to be confined to white cubes or polished spectacles; it can exist as a simple transmission of feeling or a space for free play.
What does ‘Better than Nothing’ mean to you?
The project speaks to those who struggle to recognize or define their own status and identity while attempting to break away from what they were constructed, expected, or told to be. This tension has been a central concern for me. What initially began, three years ago, as a personal project functioning almost as an alibi to escape post-COVID stagnation, both physical and mental, gradually evolved into a process of self-recognition. Through this journey, I started to understand what truly draws me in: certain people, places, and events connected by a shared atmosphere, energy, and sensibility that resonate with my own experience. As these recurring elements came together, a narrative began to emerge.
In China, there was a really strict regulation regarding covid, you had to have access to a phone to prove that you were healthy. But actually during the pandemic was the first time I grabbed a camera to work on my project, and it was also the medium to relieve the stress of using my phone. Everything was full of anger, stress, news and mass consumption through technology. So I decided to drop my smartphone and switch to a very old phone that only allows calls and text messages. I later signed up as a volunteer to go out in the street just to take photographs.
In terms of archiving, I guess that the core for an archive should be authenticity and I realized that the moment that I put down my phone and walked out the door was the time that I encountered myself to authenticity. The moment I stopped listening to the media, complaints and the preconception that the world is just a bunch of who is good or who is bad discussions. So it was the need of seeking for authenticity that made me want to photograph reality and create an archive.
What is a story that has inspired you to build a visual narrative?
There are a lot, because the covid project was an alibi to get out of my house. But after I finished it, I printed every picture and started showing it to everyone I photographed, which I was surprised by the positive responses. I don’t know, maybe when you photograph policemen you do not expect that they will like the pictures, but they did. So, I like the idea of using photography as my alibi so I am able to go out and observe and work on different projects.
For the last three years I have travelled a lot to work on this project and what I encountered is that the people that I have photographed are also looking for excuses to “get away”, it may be for vacation, or to pursue their dreams or to look for a certain type of transcendency. It is a way to escape from the stagnation of the covid. The inspiring part for me is to meet and encounter the people that I photograph and the repercussion of my work to them.
‘Hungry for Creation’ makes reference to those artists that want to devour the world with their art. What are you really passionate about as a young artist? How are you able to transmit that passion?
This desire also implies being devoured by the world in return, tasting both its sweetness and bitterness, while becoming aware of my own senses, my own capacity to feel and respond. I am deeply passionate about the creative process itself: constantly looking through my chosen medium as both a window and a mirror, venturing into the unknown while simultaneously discovering myself. Drawing on John Szarkowski’s distinction between photographers who look outward at the world and those who look inward, I see my practice as a movement between these two positions. While I cannot guarantee how my work will be received or transmitted, I can commit to the process, to passion, care, and, above all, authenticity. I hope that this authenticity resonates, first with those close to me and eventually with wider audiences, creating a shared frequency of connection.
Creating spaces to exhibit what unites us
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