Yicong Li
Year of birth: 1999
Where do you live: Chicago, United States
Your education: Master of Fine Arts in Fashion from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago; Bachelor of Fine Arts in Fiber from the Maryland Institute College of Art
Describe your art in three words: Healing, transformative, intuitive
Website | Instagram
Yicong Li | Connection | 2022
Your work beautifully blends fiber art with performance and ritual. When did you first realize fiber could be such a transformative medium?
I first began exploring wearable sculpture during the pandemic, when masks became a powerful symbol of both safety and intimacy. That moment made me reflect on how something worn on the body could offer not only physical protection but also emotional transformation: a way to shield oneself while also revealing the underlying consciousness. Around the same time, I discovered Chinese Nuo Opera, an ancient ritual performance in which villagers don hand-carved masks to embody deities and perform ceremonies of healing and protection. This traditional performance art practice deeply resonated with me, leading me to experiment with fiber as a medium for performance and ritual. Since then, I’ve been using fiber to explore ideas of healing, empowerment, and transformation—inviting the body to interact with texture, material, and myth.
Yicong Li | Witness | 2022
Many of your pieces resemble masks or second skins. What role does identity play in the way these forms are designed or worn?
Identity plays a significant role in my work. Many of my pieces function as masks or second skins precisely because I’m interested in how we present, protect, and transform ourselves. These wearable forms allow the body to shift, conceal, or expand beyond its everyday identity. When someone wears one of my pieces, they often move differently, inhabit space in new ways, or even take on another persona. This is inspired by traditions like Nuo Opera, where masks are not just decorations but vessels for transformation, allowing performers to become gods, spirits, or ancestors. In my work, I carry forward that sense of possibility. The pieces aren’t just garments; they’re invitations to explore aspects of the self that are hidden, vulnerable, or in transition. I think of them as soft armor, designed to protect while also revealing something more intimate and internal. Through texture, color, and scale, I try to create forms that feel alive, shifting identity not only for the wearer but also for the viewer.
Yicong Li | Bound | 2023
You’ve mentioned being inspired by Nuo Opera and its mythological elements. How do you reinterpret those traditions in a contemporary context?
In my work, I reinterpret those traditions by focusing on the emotional and psychological dimensions of transformation in a contemporary context. Rather than directly replicating traditional masks or rituals, I abstract their essence through fiber techniques: soft textures, layered surfaces, and sculptural forms that wrap around the body. I use materials like wool and mohair to evoke both comfort and protection, and I work intuitively, letting the materials guide the transformation. In the contemporary setting, I invite performers and artists from many different backgrounds to experience and activate my soft sculptures. In this collaborative space, the power of transformation is not bound by the specific cultural background I am exploring but is created through the interaction between my work and the individual wearing or moving within it—their personality, culture, and identity. This exchange opens up new possibilities and meanings, allowing the pieces to evolve and resonate in diverse ways.
Your piece “Vegetate” won First Prize at the Warwick Center for the Arts. Can you talk about the concept behind it and how it evolved during the making process?
I have always been deeply interested in nature, and many of my works are inspired by natural themes. Vegetate specifically channels the power of plants: ancient beings that have witnessed the Earth’s growth since the beginning, yet remain so still that they are often overlooked. The title itself plays on the dual meaning of the word “vegetate”: on one hand, to grow and thrive quietly and steadily, and on the other, to be inactive or overlooked. This duality reflects the tension between stillness and vitality that I aimed to explore.
During the making process, I was drawn to fiber’s ability to mimic organic textures and rhythms. Using knitting and crocheting techniques, I created layered, soft forms that suggest both roots and leaves, grounding and reaching simultaneously. I aimed to convey the energy of plants being still yet growing, actively living through the piece. As the work evolved, it shifted from literal representation to evoking a sense of gentle persistence and healing energy. Vegetate embodies the idea that growth often happens beneath the surface and that embracing stillness can be a powerful act of self-care and renewal.
Yicong Li | Cassiopeia | 2025
As someone who teaches children, how do your experiences in the classroom inform your artistic practice?
Working with young students, especially those facing social and emotional challenges, has heightened my awareness of human resilience, vulnerability, and the many ways people express themselves beyond words. Observing their growth and struggles has made me more empathetic and attuned to the complexities of human emotion. I incorporate art and art therapy into my curriculum, making the learning process both fun and meaningful for my students. I encourage creativity and inclusivity by emphasizing that there are no wrong answers in the art-making process. This approach fosters confidence and open expression, values that also shape my own artistic work. Often, I reflect on my day with students while creating, allowing those experiences to influence the textures, forms, and emotions embedded in my pieces. Teaching and art are deeply intertwined parts of my journey toward understanding and supporting the human experience.
Yicong Li | Vegetate | 2024
There’s a strong psychological and healing dimension in your work. Have you ever witnessed a viewer or wearer have a particularly emotional or personal response?
When I first started crocheting masks, I brought one with me to a picnic in the woods with friends. One of my friends decided to try it on, and without any prompting, she began moving and dancing freely. It was a beautiful, almost magical moment. She seemed to dissolve into the environment, as if she, the mask, and the woods had become one entity. Watching her express herself so openly through movement and body language made me realize how powerful these wearable sculptures can be. Afterward, she shared that the mask gave her a sense of safety and space to explore her emotions and express herself in ways she normally would not, almost as if she were having a conversation with her subconscious.
That experience was truly transformative for me. It revealed the deep emotional and psychological energy that my work can hold and sparked my ongoing interest in exploring the connections between human psychology, subconsciousness, and art. Since then, I have been more intentional about creating pieces that invite healing, self-reflection, and empowerment, recognizing that art can be not just seen but felt and experienced on a profound, personal level.
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