Compared to many animated works that emphasise dramatic conflict and character development, I have always been more drawn to ‘atmosphere’. Often, what truly makes a work stick in my memory is not a specific plot point, but rather the atmosphere, the light, the humidity, the sound of the wind, or a mood that defies precise description. I have gradually come to realise that my interest in animation does not stem entirely from the narrative itself, but rather from how space influences perception and how the environment connects with emotion.
This inclination has also led me to revisit certain concepts within East Asian philosophy. Take, for instance, the concept of ‘qi’ (气). It is not an entity that can be seen directly, but rather a state of energy that flows between space, the body and nature. It exists not only in the wind, water and plants, but also in the interplay between emotions and perception. This understanding of ‘fluidity’ and ‘interconnectedness’ resonates deeply with my current reflections on the atmosphere in animation.
At the same time, I have developed an interest in the concept of ‘the unity of heaven and man’ (天人合一). In many Western narrative structures, humans are often portrayed as the masters of their environment, with space serving primarily as a backdrop for the characters’ actions; yet in East Asian philosophy, the relationship between humanity and nature is one of mutual influence and interpenetration. The environment is not merely a static presence; it, too, shapes human perception and emotion. Rather than emphasising individual will and objectives, I am more drawn to a state of emotion that is ambiguous, fluid, and beyond complete control.
This line of thinking has gradually influenced my visual expression. I find myself increasingly inclined to use mist, particles, translucent materials, slow pacing and low-saturation lighting to construct space, rather than relying on rapid editing or intense conflict. I hope the audience can enter a viewing state closer to ‘feeling’, rather than merely following the plot’s progression. To some extent, this mode of expression also connects with the concept of ‘Haptic Visuality’ proposed by Laura U. Marks. She argues that images are not merely ‘viewed’, but can also evoke bodily sensory experiences through texture, blurriness and atmosphere.
In my animation practice, I have begun to translate these ideas into more concrete visual experiments. For instance, by utilising floating particles, shifts in the quality of light within the air, and the slow movement of environmental rhythms, I seek to construct a spatial state that exists between reality and perception. I hope that animation will be not merely a narrative medium, but also a space for emotional and sensory experiences.
In the future, I hope to continue my research into the relationship between East Asian philosophy, environmental perception and immersive storytelling, and to further explore how animation can establish a more open and multisensory viewing experience through atmosphere, space and bodily perception.