For a long time, my understanding of animation has been firmly rooted in the concept of ‘characters’. Whether in terms of narrative progression or the expression of emotion, it seemed to be taken for granted that a distinct human protagonist was required to guide the audience into the story. However, as my creative work and research deepened, I gradually became interested in a different question: what would happen if animation were no longer centred on ‘characters’, but instead turned its attention to the environment, perception, and non-human beings themselves?
This kind of thinking originally stemmed from my interest in ‘perception’. I found myself drawn more readily to things that are difficult to describe precisely. Such as the rhythm created when the wind stirs vegetation, the sensation of humidity in the air, the spatial atmosphere formed by mist and light, or a scent that, though invisible, can influence one’s mood. Unlike traditional characters, these elements possess neither language nor a defined identity, yet they are still capable of altering the audience’s experience of space and emotion.
After engaging with theories related to posthumanism, I began to rethink the relationship between humans and the environment. Many narrative works of the past have taken it for granted that ‘humans’ are the sole subjects, whilst nature, matter and the environment serve merely as backdrops; posthumanism, however, seeks to dismantle this centralised structure. The environment is no longer merely an object to be viewed; it possesses the capacity to influence, shape and even ‘respond’ to humans. For me, this perspective has also begun to alter the way I understand animation. I began to focus more on ‘relationships’ themselves, rather than merely individual characters. Emotion does not necessarily stem from dialogue and performance; it may also arise from space, texture, sound, and the physical sensations experienced during the viewing process.
This research direction also influenced my graduation film, *Scent*. In the film, I sought to downplay traditional character-centred narrative, instead guiding the audience into a more sensory spatial experience through a non-human entity composed of ‘scent’. Rather than a clear plot progression, I focused on the relationships between particles, light, air currents and the rhythm of the environment, hoping that the audience would experience the film through atmosphere rather than explanation. This also led me to reflect further on whether animation could become a medium that not only ‘tells stories’ but also reorganises ways of perceiving the world.
At the same time, I gradually realised that posthumanism does not simply mean ‘removing humans’, but rather re-examining the spatial relationship between humans and the world. It has led me to focus on entities that were previously easily overlooked, such as plants, smells, spaces, technology, and even the viewer’s own bodily perceptions. In the future, I hope to continue my research into non-human perception, immersive emotional experiences and environmental interaction, whilst further exploring how animation can transcend traditional character-centred narratives and shift towards a more open and multi-sensory mode of expression.