Echoes of Displacement: Yinuo Chen’s Fusion of Art and Technology
Issue 01 Distortion
Yinuo Chen
Writer: Joven Delay
Editor: Jiani Wang
Image Credit: Artist
Uncertain about her artistic path, Chen initially pursued a degree in liberal studies at NYU, hoping to carve a niche in communication and writing. However, the outbreak of the COVID-19 pandemic disrupted her plans, forcing her to return to her homeland of China. Amidst the upheaval and solitude of quarantine, Chen stumbled upon digital art, a revelation that ignited her creative journey anew. Transitioning effortlessly from traditional mediums to digital realms, she reminisces, “I started to play around with just drawing random things [...] and sculpting 3D sculptures in Nomad.”
Grateful for her time abroad, Chen acknowledges the invaluable exposure to diverse technologies and English-based media courses that enriched her journey. As she navigates the ever-expanding horizons of art and technology, Chen remains deeply rooted in her experiences while embracing the boundless possibilities of the digital age.
MY BODY IS NOT MY HOME VOL. 1
Amidst these creative explorations, Chen took to Instagram to share promotional materials for the short film, a move that unexpectedly catapulted her into online stardom, amassing an astonishing 3 million views. Reflecting on this whirlwind of attention, she remarks, “Accidentally, I blew up online—it was very unexpected.”
Driven by a profound sense of displacement stemming from her experiences straddling dual cultures during her formative years, coupled with a poignant observation of the dearth of non-white female bodies in both physical and digital realms, Chen wove these intricate emotions into a narrative audio-visual odyssey. In “My Body Is Not My Home vol. 2,” viewers are invited to accompany a simulacrum on a journey of self-discovery, as it grapples with the process of becoming the “Other.”
Revealing the underlying motivation for her artistic endeavors, Chen expresses her frustration with the prevalence of artworks featuring Asian-inspired female characters crafted by individuals who do not share her lived experiences. Determined to reclaim her narrative and present her unique perspective, she asserts, “I wanted to make my own version, I wanted to tell the story in my own visual words.” Through this creative endeavor, Chen confronts the objectification of her body and trauma, transcending cultural confines to explore the visceral realms of self-expression.
As anticipation mounts, the final piece is poised for release in the forthcoming months, promising to captivate audiences with its evocative storytelling and striking visual aesthetics.
MY BODY IS NOT MY HOME VOL. 2
The outcome was a mesmerizing fusion of sight and sound—a surrealistic audiovisual spectacle that unfolded with whispers and unveiled a visage distorted by aqueous currents. A peculiar, distorted entity, boasting three heads and multiple arms adorned with eyes, meandered, and danced across an otherworldly expanse. Bathed in the glow of a solitary light, the scene unfolded in a disorienting dance, as the camera swirled and spun, painting a picture of eerie beauty. ARCA’s ethereal vocals served as a haunting backdrop, a lamentation that hung heavy amidst the enigmatic imagery, evoking a sense of yearning and longing.
Chen’s initial rendition of the film was deeply personal and emotionally charged, born out of the tumultuous ex- periences she faced in her personal life. For two intense months, she threw herself into the project, driven by the internal turmoil she was grappling with at the time. The finished version was eventually presented to her class, and upon graduating, Chen took a step back from the project. However, in August of 2023, she came to the re- alization that her journey with the film was far from over.
The therapeutic nature of the first version was evident to Chen, who was surprised at the depth of emotion she had poured into it, remarking, “I didn’t know I had that much anger in me that I wanted to let out.” Utilizing a digital version of herself as a conduit for her emotions, she found a way to navigate the complex tangle of feelings that had been simmering within her for so long. This digital representation served as a vessel for her anger and horror, allowing Chen to reclaim a sense of ownership over herself, declaring, “I didn’t want to have my own body contained anymore.” The final abstracted iteration of the film became a poignant digital memento for Chen, a means of commemorating and embracing that version of herself—a manifestation of unapologetic and raw emotion.