“4 Crimes To Individuation” is the result of four years of intensive research, fieldwork, and theoretical exploration, structured through the lens of alchemical symbolism. This book is not just an analysis of selfhood but an alchemical dissection of the forces that shape, distort, and often sabotage individuation.
At its core, the book intertwines the historical and mythological framework of the Viking Age with contemporary discourse on identity. Through firsthand study of Norse artifacts, ancient manuscripts, and burial sites, it reconstructs the rites of transformation that once defined personal and collective existence. These findings serve as a symbolic vessel, mirroring the alchemical stages of dissolution, purification, and reformation—mapping the journey of selfhood as a process of destruction and reconstruction.
Rather than approaching individuation as a linear path, this work engages with alchemical analysis to expose how identity is continually broken down and reshaped under societal, psychological, and technological pressures. The book challenges the modern illusion of self-determination, revealing how contemporary systems—family structures, cultural narratives, economic forces, and digital algorithms—function as unseen crucibles, forging and restricting individuality through invisible yet pervasive means.
Through a synthesis of historical study, philosophical critique, and symbolic reconstruction, “4 Crimes To Individuation” examines whether true selfhood can exist outside the predetermined formulas imposed by civilization. It is both an inquiry and an invocation, urging readers to confront the deep structural forces that define their existence and reconsider the very nature of transformation in an age that commodifies identity.
27x15cm
108 Pages
2022
By Dongbay (Yubo Xu)
I started with wasted skateboard trucks, coiled electric wires, and pelts reclaimed from poachers—materials saturated with the remnants of industrial excess and ecological fracture. These fragments, weathered by use and abandonment, bear the marks of a world shaped by relentless production and extraction. As an artist, I handle them with curiosity rather than condemnation, crafting installations that pull viewers into the intricate layers of the Anthropocene—a geological epoch defined by human impact yet riddled with opportunities for reconsideration. My practice is anchored in a childhood spent amid Northeast China’s industrial terrains, where the earth’s vitality pulsed alongside the ceaseless roar of machinery, forging my understanding of its dynamic, wounded nature. This essay explores my creative process, tracing how my interaction with these materials, shaped by an interdisciplinary background spanning applied chemistry and visual arts, opens a dialogue about the complex bonds between humanity and the more-than-human world, driven by a commitment to ecological renewal.
My childhood unfolded across towns where coal dust thickened the air and factory rhythms reverberated through the ground, a landscape both alive with energy and scarred by exploitation. Those formative years revealed the land as a living entity—shifting, resilient, yet deeply vulnerable—its rivers stained by runoff and its horizons dimmed by smog. That perception now steers my collection of salvaged steel, animal pelts, and human hair, materials chosen not for mere aesthetics but for their embedded narratives of disruption and endurance. When I braid copper wires with hair or pair industrial debris with organic remnants, the work emerges organically, guided by the textures and histories of the components rather than a premeditated design. This process navigates the tension between synthetic and natural realms, becoming a hushed inquiry into what coexistence might entail in an era of crisis. The interplay of these elements—rigid metal against soft fur, conductive wire alongside fragile strands—arises from their inherent properties, offering a tactile exploration of our fractured relationship with the environment.
This assembly evolves into a ritualistic practice, breathing new purpose into modernity’s castoffs through a meticulous, hands-on approach. Inspired by traditional totems—objects that once tethered communities to ecological wisdom—I turn to skateboard trucks, rusted galvanized pipes, and discarded wires, integrating pelts covered with Navajo-inspired motifs to form what I call “Synthetic Totems.” These hybrid structures become dynamic arenas where meaning transforms, urging us to consider whether industrial residues can foster a renewed connection with the earth. The creation process is deliberate yet open-ended; I spend hours tracing the logics of the pelts, testing the weight of the steel, and adjusting the weave of wires and hair until a balance emerges. The pelts, once part of wolve and sheeps, rest beside human hair, easing the separations between species and suggesting a kinship that transcends conventional boundaries. The invitation is subtle—step into this space, feel the interplay of lives and systems, and ponder our shared entanglement across the organic and the manufactured.
That entanglement grows more pressing amid the cascading losses of our time—forests leveled, species extinguished, waterways clogged with waste. This collapse transcends ecology, fraying the deeper ties that once embedded humanity within the natural world, a rupture I frame as an “Apocalypse of Faith.” This concept envisions a cycle where belief rises, falters under excess, and faces a crisis that beckons renewal—a lens through which I view our current disconnection from the earth’s rhythms. Anthropologist Anna Tsing has observed, “We live in landscapes of disturbance” (Tsing 2015, 155), a statement that aligns with the multifaceted ruptures my work engages. My installations confront this moment, gathering poached pelts and industrial wires into forms that thrum with the presence of what’s been lost. By reshaping these materials into ritualistic structures, they hint at transformation, pointing toward a future where technological capacity merges with ecological care rather than widening our alienation. The act of reconfiguration—connecting wires, stitching pelts—becomes a meditative gesture, a tentative step toward mending what has been severed.
My practice is rooted in a pursuit of ecological justice, moving away from human-centered views toward an interdependent understanding of life. As an artist who sees myself as an eco-warrior—not a title of grandeur but a call to shared responsibility—I address the violence of industrialization: ecosystems silenced by exploitation, their remnants scattered across landfills and black markets. Yet, my aim extends beyond documentation to a deeper intervention. By blurring boundaries—species, bodies, synthetic forms—the work creates a space to rethink companionship with the earth and its inhabitants. It positions humans as participants rather than overseers, recognizing wolves and sheep as kin whose lives intersect with ours in fragile, profound ways. This recognition emerges not from abstract theory but from the physical act of working with these materials, feeling their weight and texture as they coalesce into forms that defy separation.
This perspective views care as a multifaceted act, reaching toward the overlooked and discarded in ways that challenge conventional hierarchies. The pelts, severed from their ecosystems, coexist with hair and wires in a bittersweet tension, complicating reductive ideas of connection. They demand recognition—not as objects of sympathy, but as partners in a reciprocal network unbound by dominance. My installations offer no fixed resolutions; they unfold possibilities, exploring how we might live alongside the neglected or the invasive—the rusted pipe, the sun-dried pelt, the stray hair—cultivating a justice grounded in mutual agency rather than control. This exploration is tactile and iterative; I adjust and reconfigure until the materials settle into a form that feels alive, a process that mirrors the adaptability required to navigate our ecological present.
Ultimately, my art manifests as a subtle interplay of synthetic and organic elements, a rhythm cradling both loss and potential. The works pulse with the traces of what’s been taken—ecosystems dismantled, lives commodified—yet they also bear a forward-looking vitality, a quiet insistence on possibility. They serve as openings to pause within the Anthropocene’s fractures and envision a cadence where our creations harmonize with the earth’s enduring patterns. I seek not to rewind to a vanished past—an impossible return to pre-industrial purity—but to craft a present that respects all life—species, body, synthetics—in a shared coexistence. Through this, I engage in a broader discourse on companionship beyond the human, pursuing renewal within the vibrant, intricate connections we all inhabit, a pursuit that remains as much a question as a conviction.
Bibliography
Tsing, Anna Lowenhaupt. 2015. The Mushroom at the End of the World: On the Possibility of Life in Capitalist Ruins. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.
“Crafting Rituals of Redemption in the Anthropocene”
This essay explores how discarded industrial remnants—skateboard trucks, electrical wires, and poached pelts—can be reconfigured into artistic rituals that challenge the fractures of the Anthropocene. Drawing from my background in applied chemistry and visual arts, I examine how materiality holds embedded narratives of disruption, endurance, and potential renewal. By weaving together salvaged steel, animal pelts, and human hair, I create “Synthetic Totems” that blur the boundaries between species, industry, and ecology. The work is guided by an ethos of reconfiguration rather than nostalgia, offering a space to reconsider humanity’s entanglement with the more-than-human world. This essay situates my practice within a broader dialogue on ecological justice, companionship beyond the human, and the possibilities of ritual in an era of ecological collapse.
Essay
2025
The Mentawai Research Project is an ongoing field study that delves into the lived realities of one of the world’s most isolated yet culturally rich indigenous groups. My research focuses on direct, unfiltered human interactions with societies that exist at the margins of modern civilization, revealing not only their deep connection to nature but also the inevitable imprints of contemporary influences and contradictions within their way of life.
Through an immersive investigative approach, I have explored the significance of Mentawai’s traditional tattooing practices, a form of ancestral storytelling etched onto the skin, and Jaraik, the symbolic objects hung at household entrances, which serve as markers of belief, protection, and identity. These elements, though deeply rooted in the tribe’s history, reflect an evolving tension between preservation and transformation—traditions threatened by external forces yet dynamically adapting to the shifting world around them.
This research is not an act of nostalgia but an effort to document and engage with the wisdom embedded in these traditions, recognizing them as a form of heritage that belongs to all of humanity. While cultural erosion and dilution may be inevitable, the knowledge and philosophies carried within these practices remain invaluable. By situating myself within the rhythms of Mentawai life, this project seeks to capture their embodied knowledge, sensory experiences, and spiritual frameworks, contributing to a broader discourse on the future of indigenous wisdom in a rapidly homogenizing world. The work remains ongoing, expanding its inquiry into the fluid intersections of identity, ecology, and time.
2024 -
“Transmutation, Purification & Projection 蛻變,提純與鍛造” is a research-driven exploration of alchemical practice as both a metaphysical inquiry and a symbolic design process. This hand-bound manuscript, inspired by the aesthetics and structure of classical Chinese texts, reconstructs alchemical methodology as a universal medium of communication—one that transcends cultural and temporal boundaries.
Rooted in the historical and philosophical dimensions of alchemy, this work investigates its role beyond early proto-chemistry, positioning it as a system for understanding the underlying principles of transformation. By examining alchemy’s layered structure—material, symbolic, and metaphysical—the research draws parallels between the alchemical pursuit of essence and contemporary design thinking. The book reinterprets alchemical processes as models for creation, questioning how humans engage with signals, symbols, and meaning in everyday life.
Through historical analysis, comparative study of alchemical analogs, and a conceptual framework that bridges ancient wisdom with modern interpretation, this work offers a neutral and poetic lens on the ways alchemical symbolism continues to shape our perception of the world. It serves as an invitation to reconsider transmutation not just as a physical operation, but as a dynamic process of perception, communication, and existential inquiry.
20x20cm
72 Pages
2020