Yage Si

Your project “What Have They All Experienced” deals with themes of destruction and healing. What inspired you to use chairs as the central medium for this exploration?

Chairs are one of the most essential objects in daily life. They are closely tied to human presence and experience, so for me, they naturally became a metaphor for people. In this project, the chair stands in for the human body and spirit.

Can you describe the emotional process of subjecting the chairs to violence and then performing acts of care on them? How did that affect you personally?

This work is rooted in a Christian reflection: human beings inevitably go through suffering and become deeply broken, yet God heals us through many different means. He gathers our fragments, brings us out of darkness, and restores us with love. My process mirrors this journey—I subject the chairs to violence, then stitch and mend them as a symbolic act of care. For me, it was a way of experiencing love as guidance, healing, and ultimately rebirth.

The use of medical gauze, bandages, and stitching techniques creates a strong association with the human body. Do you see the chairs as metaphors for people’s lives and struggles?

Yes, absolutely. This is a process of treatment and recovery. As I mentioned earlier, the chairs stand for human beings. On the path of life, everyone experiences pain and struggle, but healing and restoration also follow. This series is ongoing, and I plan to explore different forms of treatment in future works.

Why did you choose metallic spray paint as the final layer in this project? What does it symbolize in the context of rebirth?

The original chairs were wooden, so coating them in metallic spray paint created a stark contrast with their natural material. For me, it symbolizes transformation after suffering. Rebirth means not simply returning to who you were before, but becoming something different—stronger, and perhaps more radiant.

The photographs you included resemble old, fragmented memories. How important was the act of documentation to the meaning of this work?

The photographs are integral to the project. They represent memory—specifically painful memories. Painful memories often leave the deepest marks, and they are the ones that can most directly reach the inner life of the viewer. By including these images, I hope to evoke reflection and even positive emotional responses through the confrontation with pain.

Your work often merges fiber art traditions with sculpture. How do you see the relationship between softness (fabric, thread) and hardness (wood, furniture, destruction) in your art?

For me, this duality is essential. It’s full of contradiction and tension, which reflects my own personality—I often feel pulled between opposites, carrying inner struggles that I can only express through materials. Combining soft and hard, fragile and strong, destructive and restorative is almost like a self-portrait of my inner world.

What was the audience’s reaction when encountering these transformed chairs? Did they interpret them in the way you expected, or were there surprises?

The audience spent a long time looking at the works and the photographs. In the exhibition space, there was a sense of quiet, as if people were thinking deeply. That was exactly what I hoped for—not necessarily that viewers would interpret the work in a single way, but that my reflections could spark their own.