Ruihong Liu: hope that those who wear or interact with my pieces can find their own emotional projection

Ms. Ruihong Liu is a celebrated multidisciplinary artist and fashion designer whose work explores the intersections of memory, surrealism, and material innovation. By blending photography, textiles, and mixed media, she creates immersive narratives that redefine traditional notions of time, materiality, and identity. Her visionary approach merges contemporary fashion with fine art, resulting in a unique aesthetic that is both intellectually stimulating and visually captivating.

Liu’s work has garnered global recognition, most notably earning her 10th place in the prestigious 15th Figurative Art Exhibition hosted by Light Space & Time Online Art Gallery for her series YIN/YANG ~ TWIN FLAME. Her innovative artistry has graced the covers of Selin Magazine and Flanelle Magazine, with additional features in Rebel Magazine, Goij Magazine, and Mob Magazine, establishing her as a trailblazing figure in both the fashion and art worlds.

Transcending traditional boundaries, Liu’s work reinterprets cultural nostalgia through a futuristic perspective. With an expanding presence in international art and design circles, she continues to push the limits of her creative practice through pioneering interdisciplinary collaborations, solidifying her position as a leading voice in contemporary visual culture.

Today, we had the opportunity to speak with Ms. Liu about her work and creative journey.

Your work is deeply rooted in memory and documentation. What initially drew you to this theme, and how has it evolved throughout your career?

The initial motivation behind my exploration of this theme stemmed from my contemplation of the fragility of memory and the limitations of documentation. Memory is subjective and fluid, constantly reshaped over time, whereas documentation appears fixed yet remains bound by medium, authority, and selective narratives. I have always questioned: When memory becomes material, does it stay alive? When a record is preserved, can it truly resist oblivion? My work is deeply rooted in the irreplaceable nature of memory and documentation, a theme that has continually evolved throughout my career, manifesting in different layers across various projects.

In "Yin/Yang," I employ a visual language of modern surrealism and minimalism to examine the relationships between organic and synthetic, natural and artificial, fluid and solid. These elements are not only physical contrasts but also metaphors for the duality of memory and documentation. The coexistence of Yin and Yang mirrors the interplay between memory and records—they depend on each other yet exist in opposition. Memory is subjective, emotional, and in flux, while records are externalized and seemingly fixed, yet they remain susceptible to manipulation by medium, power, and selective framing. In this series, I attempt to illustrate how memory and documentation intertwine, shape each other, and oscillate between disappearance and preservation through visual contrast, distortions in light, and material tension.

In the digital era, our ability to document is more powerful than ever, yet true memory has become increasingly fragile. My work seeks to navigate this paradox: How can documentation be more than just a static archive and instead become a living, tangible vessel of memory? How can we ensure that the past is truly felt rather than merely stored?

You describe memories as fragile and susceptible to external influences. How do you translate this concept into your fashion designs?

In "Yin/Yang," I integrate the fragility of memory and the uncontrollability of documentation into materials, forms, structures, and contrasts, exploring how memory is eroded by time, shaped by external influences, and continuously reconstructed through its own fluidity.

1. Materiality: The tension between organic and synthetic

The fragility of memory is physically embodied in material selection. In "Yin/Yang," I deliberately juxtapose delicate, perishable fabrics with rigid synthetic materials, raw natural elements with highly industrialized components to demonstrate how memory is shaped and eroded by reality. This interplay between organic and synthetic mirrors the transformation of memory under external forces—it can neither be fully preserved nor completely erased, but is constantly restructured in different environments and narratives.

2. Form & Deconstruction: The fluidity and instability of memory

Structurally, my designs incorporate deconstruction and asymmetry. Some silhouettes shift as the wearer moves, mimicking the instability of memory, which cannot be fixed but is continuously reshaped by time. Certain garments feature detachable structures, symbolizing the fragmentation of memory, while others utilize layering, translucency, or unfinished edges, representing the blurriness and incompleteness of recollection—a reminder that memory can never be entirely captured.

3. Color & Light: The distortion of perception

Black and white, light and shadow are key elements in this series. I use extreme contrast, not only as a visual representation of Yin and Yang but also as a metaphor for memory’s duality—it can be beautified or distorted, clear as daylight or blurred by external factors. Some designs incorporate gradients, semi-transparency, or light-sensitive materials, allowing garments to change appearance under different lighting and perspectives, much like memory, which shifts according to time, emotions, and surroundings.

4. Dynamism: The unpredictability of memory

I explore the dynamism of memory in "Yin/Yang" by allowing certain designs to alter shape with the wearer’s movement or even be reconfigured. This unpredictability echoes the fluidity of memory, reinforcing its delicate and unstable nature. Just as our recollections are subject to reinterpretation over time, garments take on new meanings in different environments and bodily expressions.

Memory is not just a theme in "Yin/Yang"; it is embedded in the garments themselves

Through the contrast between fragility and rigidity, the interplay of form and deconstruction, the shifting of light and perception, and the unpredictability of structure, I depict the vulnerability of memory, its susceptibility to external influences, and its transformation through retention and erasure. This is not just a metaphor for memory itself but also an experiment in how garments can “remember” the shape of the body, the changes in the environment, and the passage of time—thus becoming a living record.

Your creations are often described as intimate and contemplative. What emotions or experiences do you hope to evoke in those who wear or engage with your work?

My work often carries a sense of intimacy and introspection because it is deeply rooted in the interweaving of memory, the body, and time, attempting to capture fleeting emotions that cannot be fully articulated. I hope that those who wear or interact with my pieces can find their own emotional projection within the layers of texture, form, and material, rather than passively receiving a fixed visual or conceptual narrative.

In "Yin/Yang," I employ contrasts between organic and synthetic, fluid and solid, transparent and concealed to evoke a sense of tension between uncertainty and balance. As the wearer dons, touches, or observes the garment under shifting light, I want them to feel the fragility of memory, the fluidity of the body, and the delicate interactions between individuals and their environment. This series is not merely a visual experience but an experiment in perception—as the garment shifts with bodily movement, as light refracts differently through materials, does the wearer begin to reconsider their relationship with space and time? This experience is inherently personal, as it depends on the individual’s perception rather than a singular, predetermined interpretation.

I hope my work fosters a deeply immersive emotional experience, allowing the wearer or viewer to step out of the ordinary and into a more introspective, fluid temporality. It may evoke a familiar nostalgia or a subtle sense of unease, but regardless, it is never merely a static object—it is a medium through which memory, the body, and perception interact with one another.

Can you walk us through your creative process? How do you begin conceptualizing a new collection or piece?

My creative process begins with the exploration of a central theme. Each collection or piece is a visual manifestation of a concept, memory, or emotion. Before I begin designing, I first establish the idea I want to explore and conduct in-depth visual research around it.

1. Concept Development & Visual Research

Once I have identified a theme, I immerse myself in photographs, films, books, music, and artworks, searching for visual elements that resonate with my concept. From these sources, I extract the emotions and atmospheres I wish to convey. This phase is one of deconstruction and reconstruction—I compile and collage images, colors, and materials to create a visual inspiration board that gradually forms the mood of the project.

2. Material Experimentation: From Concept to Tactility

After defining a visual direction, I begin exploring fabric and materials. Material is not just a medium; it is an integral part of expression, determining both the tactile and structural qualities of the final work. I search for textures, surfaces, and structures that align with my theme and conduct various experiments to test their adaptability. For instance, in "Yin/Yang," I utilized extreme contrasts in materiality—soft vs. rigid, transparent vs. opaque—to express the fluidity of memory and the rigidity of documentation.

3. Design & Draping

Once I have selected the materials, I move into the design phase. I begin with hand-drawn sketches, exploring silhouettes, structures, and details, then transition into draping—allowing the fabric to flow naturally on the body and observing how it shapes form. Often, the nature of the material dictates modifications to the original concept, leading to iterative refinements.

4. Pattern-Making, Prototyping, and Refinement

After finalizing the design, I create an initial prototype to test the structure’s feasibility. During this process, I make adjustments to patterns and construction to ensure that the piece accurately conveys the intended emotion and concept. This stage often involves multiple trials and refinements to achieve the most precise balance between form and expression.

5. Final Execution: From Experimentation to Garment

Once the prototype is refined, the piece enters the final production stage. Even in this phase, I continue to observe the details, craftsmanship, and construction, making necessary refinements to ensure the piece remains true to the original vision.

The entire process is not merely a technical sequence but a journey of exploration and dialogue. From concept to imagery, from material to form, from experimentation to realization, each step deepens the narrative. Ultimately, I hope my work is not just clothing but something that can be perceived, experienced, and even remembered.

Coming from China and now based in New York, how have your cultural experiences shaped your artistic vision and approach to design?

My upbringing and cross-cultural background have profoundly shaped my artistic vision, design philosophy, and creative process. Growing up in China, I was deeply influenced by the philosophies of duality and coexistence, materiality and spirituality, memory and oblivion embedded in traditional culture. However, moving to New York expanded my perspective, pushing me to explore how to find my own language within the intersection of Eastern and Western influences.

From China to New York: Finding Balance in Duality and Fusion

Chinese culture instilled in me an understanding of yin-yang, fluidity, and time as cyclical forces. In my designs, these ideas manifest not only through black-and-white contrasts but also through the interplay of organic and synthetic, strength and fragility, concealment and exposure. In "Yin/Yang," I use opposing materials—soft vs. rigid, transparent vs. veiled—to express the fluidity and instability of memory. This dualistic approach is something I absorbed from Eastern thought and later refined through my creative practice in New York.

New York, in turn, exposed me to a more experimental, boundary-pushing approach to design. The city's fashion language is bold, forward-thinking, and unrestricted, allowing me to break conventions—whether through deconstruction, reconstruction, or integrating dynamic elements that transform garments as they move with the wearer. This has shaped my perception of identity and selfhood—not as fixed constructs, but as entities in constant flux, influenced by shifting cultural and environmental contexts.

Memory & Documentation: Cross-Cultural Reflections

When I left my familiar surroundings for New York, memory became one of the most important themes in my work. I began to recognize that memory is not solely personal but is collectively shaped by culture, environment, and time. I often ask myself:

When a memory is documented, does it remain the same? When documentation fades or is forgotten, does it transform into a different kind of memory?

These questions became the driving force behind my creative practice.

My Approach to Design: Fashion as an Experience, Not Just an Object

In China, traditional craftsmanship emphasizes precision, patience, and the harmony between material and spirit. This has given me a heightened sensitivity to material selection and treatment. But in New York, I began to think about how fashion could go beyond static objects and become an interactive medium—one that responds to the body, space, and time. I often incorporate modular, deconstructible, and sensory elements into my designs, encouraging the wearer to engage with the garment through touch, movement, and perception.

Ultimately, I want my work to hold the tension between the personal and the collective, memory and reality, the East and the West. Yet this tension is not about conflict, but fluidity—an ongoing interplay of fusion and transformation, much like my own journey.

Memory can be both personal and collective. Do you find that your work resonates differently with audiences from different backgrounds?

Yes, I have indeed noticed that "Yin/Yang" resonates differently with audiences from diverse backgrounds, which perfectly reflects the dual nature of memory—it is both personal and collective.

At its core, "Yin/Yang" explores opposition and coexistence, not only through the visual contrast of black and white, light and shadow but also as a metaphor for organic vs. synthetic, natural vs. artificial, fluid vs. solid, disappearance vs. preservation. This dualistic approach evokes different interpretations and emotional responses depending on the viewer's cultural background, yet ultimately, they all find a personal projection within the tension and balance presented in the work.

For some, the personal aspect of the work resonates most deeply. They connect the contrasts within the piece to their own experiences of identity, growth, transition, and the fluidity of self within different cultural, environmental, and situational contexts. Some feel a sense of uncertainty, much like memory itself—never absolute, always shifting between clarity and obscurity, reality and imagination.

For others, especially those from different cultural backgrounds, the interpretation tends to shift toward collective memory and societal structures. Eastern audiences often approach the work through the lens of Yin and Yang philosophy, seeing it as an exploration of balance, interdependence, and transformation—perhaps even linking it to traditional concepts of cycles, regeneration, and impermanence. In contrast, Western audiences tend to perceive it through the lens of minimalism and surrealism, contemplating themes of technology vs. nature, the artificial vs. the organic, and the tension between emotional depth and structural precision. Despite these varying perspectives, they all gravitate toward the duality and interdependence embedded within the work, not as rigid opposition but as an active, evolving dialogue.

Additionally, the interplay of light, shadow, and materiality further diversifies how different audiences experience the work. For some, its dynamic nature makes it feel constantly in flux, like a space that is continuously reshaped, much like our memories—forever evolving and never truly fixed. For others, the stark contrast between black and white becomes a visual metaphor for remembering and forgetting, existence and erasure. This dual reading makes "Yin/Yang" an open-ended experience, where each viewer brings their own narrative into the work, discovering their own sense of Yin and Yang within it.

Ultimately, I find that individual memory often finds echoes within broader cultural narratives, just as collective memory is shaped by countless personal experiences. No matter where a viewer comes from, they will find themselves within the dualities and fluidities of "Yin/Yang", sensing a familiar yet unspoken equilibrium. This is precisely what I hope the work conveys: memory does not belong to a single individual or culture—it exists in a constant state of contradiction, coexistence, and transformation.

Fashion is often seen as transient, yet your work aims to preserve the ephemeral. How do you balance the fleeting nature of fashion with your goal of creating timeless artifacts?

The fleeting nature of fashion does not mean it is incapable of carrying lasting emotions and memories. On the contrary, my work seeks to find enduring expressions within impermanence. I do not attempt to preserve fashion in a static, timeless state; rather, I aim to create a sense of perceived permanence within its ephemerality and fluidity—when a piece evokes a memory, an emotion, or an experience, it transcends time.

In "Yin/Yang," I employ light and shadow, transparency, deconstruction, and reconstruction to ensure that garments transform based on their surroundings and the wearer's body, remaining in constant motion. They function as "unfinished" records, garments that do not merely exist but continuously evolve through touch, shifting light, and environmental influence. Like memory, they undergo formation, erosion, and reconstruction over time.

I believe that true "eternity" does not solely exist in physical form but in experience—a garment may fade, wear out, or even disappear, but the sensory and emotional imprint it leaves behind endures. My goal is to capture the beauty of the transient, allowing its impermanence to become a vessel for continuity—to create memory within flux and transformation, and to find balance within the ever-changing.

What role does nostalgia play in your creative process? Do you find yourself revisiting personal memories, or are you more inspired by the memories of others?

Beautiful memories are not an endpoint in my creative process but rather a catalyst. They are not just a revisitation of the past but a means of understanding how time, emotions, and experiences continuously reshape our perception. I am not fixated on reproducing a singular moment; instead, I am more interested in how memories linger, transform, and intertwine with new experiences in our minds.

I often revisit my own experiences, but I am equally influenced by the memories of others. A conversation, a scent, the way light falls on an object—any of these fragments can evoke a moment that has long faded, though that moment itself may be incomplete, a mere trace, a sensation rather than a full picture. It is precisely this incompleteness that fascinates me. Human memory is never precise; it is always filtered through emotion and distorted by time. What interests me is this uncertainty—the way memories exist in flux, constantly reshaping themselves.

At the same time, I am deeply moved by the stories of others, especially when their experiences resonate with my own emotions. I have come to realize that individual memory is often interwoven with the collective, and despite differences in upbringing and cultural background, the way people experience emotions—longing, loss, anticipation, reunion—is profoundly universal. I find inspiration in this shared human experience rather than limiting myself to purely personal recollections.

For me, memory is not just about nostalgia; it is a contemplation of how time shapes us. In my work, I seek to assemble and transform these fragments, constructing new narratives that continue to evolve in the present rather than being confined to the past.

Your work extends beyond traditional fashion design into installation art. How do you see the relationship between fashion and other artistic disciplines?

I have always believed that fashion is not merely a covering for the body but rather an extension of space, memory, and emotion. There are no clear boundaries between fashion and other art forms; instead, they interpenetrate and serve as mediums for one another. In my creative practice, clothing is not just a functional object but also an experience, a narrative method, and even a form of installation art. It has the power to record the flow of time, carry the relationship between the individual and space, and provoke new dialogues within different contexts. My work consistently explores the intersection between fashion and installation art.

"The Boudoir of Recollection": Blurring the Lines Between Fashion and Installation Art

"The Boudoir of Recollection" is an installation artwork that not only delves into the preservation and fading of memory but also seeks new forms of narration amid the absence of time, space, and the body. It is not merely an assembly of physical materials but rather a woven tapestry of images, poetry, sounds, and objects, creating an immersive experience of both private memory and collective history.

In this piece, I use documentary photography as evidence of time. These images do not capture specific individuals but instead depict landscapes, spaces, abandoned places, corners of cities, and incidental traces that I photographed during my travels. These photos are not singular stories but rather clues left behind by time, bearing witness to unspoken histories. They are hung, folded, and partially obscured within the installation, like archives being browsed, forgotten, and rediscovered.

Alongside the images, I created a series of poems, presented openly on rice paper, unfiltered and honest, carrying the weight of memory and the echoes of time. These verses are not merely a record of personal memory but a broader emotional imprint, a gaze at the fleeting and a whisper to the unspeakable. I hope that when people stand before these poems, they are not just reading but feeling, recalling, and perhaps finding their own fragment of memory, a familiar yet elusive emotion.

These poems, intertwined with my documentary photography, create a bridge between private memory and public space. They are both my narrative and an open text, inviting viewers to project their own experiences onto them, forming new interpretations. Their presence turns the work into not only a visual immersion but also a resonance of emotion and language, a space to be touched, read, and remembered.

Sound as a Vessel of Time and Memory

Sound is also an essential element of this work. I used a 2:34-minute recording captured on

the morning of my grandfather’s funeral, as my family and I stood by his grave, waiting for the auspicious moment to lay him to rest. The soundscape included the chirping of birds in the quiet morning forest, the whispers of wind, and the overlapping murmur of relatives speaking in dialects. Sometimes clear, sometimes blurred, these sounds interweave yet remain isolated, creating a sense of both connection and solitude. This recording is not a deliberate archive but rather a time slice accidentally captured, representing both mourning and the mundane, both individual memory and a collective experience. It forms the soundscape of the installation, flowing through the images, poetry, and materials, transforming the viewer from a visual observer to an auditory participant.

A Living and Evolving Space

This work is not a static object but a constantly changing space. The materials age, the sounds fade over time, the words on the paper wear away with touch, and the photographs blur under shifting light. These inevitable changes are not flaws but rather integral parts of the piece, allowing it to truly carry the flow of time. This nature led me to contemplate: When memory cannot be truly preserved, can we use images, poetry, materials, and sound to reach out and touch those fleeting moments?

I have always seen artistic boundaries as fluid. Fashion, installations, images, and literature are not separate entities but can instead come together to build a more complete narrative. Although "The Boudoir of Recollection" is installation art, it does not stand apart from my other creations. It continues to embody my explorations of the body, memory, and time. Fashion does not always need to be tied to the body; it can also become part of a space, and installation art does not have to be static—it can continuously generate new meanings as viewers read, touch, and perceive it.

Ultimately, I hope this work can transcend physical existence, becoming a space that can be experienced, sensed, and remembered. I want each viewer to find their own story among its fragments, connecting with their own memories and narratives, and to walk away with a sense of having interacted with time and memory themselves.

If you could have one takeaway message for those who experience your designs, what would it be?

If my work could leave one essential realization for those who experience it, it would be this: Memory is never static, and documentation is never a fixed truth—everything is in flux, fading, reshaping, and we ourselves are part of this process.

I hope that viewers come to understand that neither personal memory nor history is absolute; instead, they are constantly constructed, deconstructed, and reinterpreted. Each person’s perception, emotions, and lived experiences influence how they engage with my work, and it is precisely this uncertainty that makes every encounter unique. Much like our own memories—worn down by time, distorted by external forces—their disappearance does not signify an end, but rather the beginning of a new narrative.

Memory does not belong solely to the past; it is always present in the way we perceive the now. If my work allows someone, even briefly, to recognize this fluidity—or if it prompts them, at an unexpected moment, to recall a forgotten detail—then that is how it has truly been remembered.

Male Model: Daniel Feng @dinodnsr

Creative Director/Photographer: Nemo Chen @nemo.cxx

Assistant: Jiawei Ji @easyeasie

Assistant: Jiaang Dong @rskris007

Visual Architect: Director of Visual Model/Accessory Designer: Shu Wang @s.w_wang

Fashion Designer/Makeup Artist/Hair Stylist: Ruihong Liu

@ruihong1iu