Interview with Yue

What drew you to 16mm analog film as a medium, and how does its dream-like texture impact your creative process and narrative choices?

I was introduced to analog filmmaking while pursuing my MFA at Emerson College through an Analog Filmmaking class. Before that, I had only learned the concept of film but had never seen or touched 16mm film in person—there was barely any access to it in China when I was growing up.

Working with 16mm film immediately brought a sense of nostalgia for me. Its tactile quality reminded me of my childhood when analog still photography was still common. But beyond its texture, it’s the unique workflow of analog filmmaking that has deeply influenced my creative process and storytelling.

One example is non-sync sound filmmaking, which I practiced in the intro class. Without the ability to record sound during production, I was encouraged to think differently—telling stories through silence, visual textures, or text on the screen. This shifted my perspective on how narratives can unfold.

Another significant aspect of analog film is its unpredictability. Unlike digital film, where results are instant, with 16mm you often have to wait days or weeks to develop the film and see the outcome. The results are rarely what you planned, and this has taught me to embrace mistakes and imperfections as part of the creative process. It’s a journey of discovery, pushing me to think actively and experiment with new approaches. Additionally, the physicality of film allows for expansion into installations and performances, giving me the freedom to experiment and reimagine storytelling in innovative ways.

How does working across Chinese and English allow you to explore personal narratives, and what unique challenges or opportunities arise from this duality?

I don’t feel many challenges , though I sometimes need extra time to organize my thoughts while writing or reading. Once I dive deeper into an idea, what I want to express usually comes naturally.

I see countless opportunities in this duality. I’ve noticed I embody different personalities when using each language, shaped by the social roles I play in these two cultures. In English, I feel brave, straightforward, and rational—I can say no or stand up for myself. In Chinese, I see a more sensitive, euphemistic and restrained side of me, shaped by years of social and cultural expectations. Creating in both languages feels like having a conversation with myself, allowing me to explore my identity from multiple perspectives.

Language itself is also beautiful—certain words or phrases carry unique meanings in each language, offering a rich and immersive experience as I play with them. I have made three pieces, “Time is a loop”, I wish, Blue Bird and Trace on My Body, all involve text and image for narration. I think I will keep explore this duality aspect of it.

How do collage and cameraless filmmaking techniques help you create spaces for imagination and new interpretations within your work?

They allow me to break away from traditional storytelling and embrace a more intuitive, experimental approach. By layering found images, textures, and materials directly onto film or creating abstract compositions, I can transform everyday elements into imaginative, unexpected visuals.

These methods encourage spontaneity and open the door to reinterpretation. The process itself and my intuition guide me. This hands-on approach fosters exploration and invites viewers to engage with the work on a sensory and emotional level, sparking their own interpretations and connections.

Your earlier works focused on self-expression but later evolved to explore themes such as spirit, body, and belonging. What drove this shift, and how has it influenced the direction of your practice?

As I matured as an artist, I began to see my individual struggles and stories as a part of a larger narrative and driven by a growing desire to connect my personal experience to universal questions. Themes like identity, migration, and cultural belonging started to emerge naturally as I reflected on my place in the world. This evolution has expanded my practice to be more inclusive and multifaceted, blending the personal with the universal while exploring the tensions between internal and external realities.

When working with abstract and nonlinear storytelling, how do you ensure your work resonates emotionally with your audience while maintaining its poetic quality?

When creating abstract narratives, I ground it with authentic emotions and human experiences, which I think it’s the key to engage my audience. Human’s brain actually doesn’t need that much rational or linear storytelling. We all have the ability to imagine and communicate. So the poetic quality and my way of pieceing metaphor, imagery, texture and sounds together naturally create a space for audience to interprete and have conversations.

Describe a real-life situation that inspired you.

I had lots of big arguement with people that are matter to me. It is extremly tough to fight against the eager to run away and really be open and valuniable to each other. I remember moments where I would sit with friends, hold their hands, and let the tears flow together. In those tears, we found relief and understanding. I find the beauty and power of our capacity to truly connect and express our emotions, and it became a central theme in my work.