On the very last evening of 2025, a uniquely meaningful art exhibition was brought to life by ten art students—Suspended.
Initiated, curated, and executed entirely by us, this exhibition holds countless detailed and precious moments to remember.
It all began with a conversation with my co-curator Angelina.
Our generation owns the truest feeling of “Suspension” in youth.
We live between “hometown” and “distant lands”, yet separated by an indescribable sense of alienation. The imprints of our hometown fade into traces of emotional disconnection as we head abroad; while the traditional paths have been quietly rewritten, the distant future we face is a fog-shrouded void. At this moment, we stand on a platform named “the present,” encountering the figures of passers-by, along with their confusion, anxiety, and anticipation…
Like pressing a pause button before stepping out into the world, we formally embrace our state of uncertainty and leave something behind in this phase of high school, in a language uniquely our own.
On this note, we prepared works across diverse mediums, including painting, installation and video, grounding and unfolding our fleeting, cloud-like ideas within the narrative of the platform.
We also invited eight more peers from the school to join us, who contributed their unique creative voices that strike a chord of sincere emotional resonance.
Some presented works developed in their school courses, while others brought entirely new, original pieces. The artists’ distinct styles intertwine and collide, enriching the exhibition’s narrative space: the meandering thoughts lingering on the white walls are transformed into colored threads stitched into watercolor paper (by Fiona Liu); the layers of melted wax on the canvas become the resonance with the hazy visions of the future (by Lembo Liao).
One week before the exhibition opened, Angelina and I stayed in constant contact as we managed the designs, promotions, and purchase every little odd and end needed for the setup — from the hanging tracks and curtains to custom merchandise, each exhibition label, and the exhibition hall’s directional signs.
Finally, with our leadership and everyone’s participation, the exhibition hall was transformed into a unique space that was entirely our own.
The greatest challenge we encountered during the setup was that the wrong connectors for the PVC pipes were bought. But we eventually set up the two-meter-tall display rack with our collaborative effort.
These little mishaps cropped up one after another, yet the two fulfilling, busy days flew by in a flash. The sheer excitement and sense of accomplishment pushed all worries about the imperfections behind us. Doing something that I was so much drawn to made me forget the hunger and fatigue I used to feel.
The opening ceremony was held on the 31st of December.
From refreshments and the performance to the opening address and on to the audience’s free tour, the hall was always filled with lively conversations and emotional connections.
We received not only blessings and flowers from our dear guests, but also their deep resonance. Seeing each other through the sight and touch of our works made all our dedication truly worthwhile.
As the dusk gently fell, we said farewell to the audience one after another. By the time I got home, the New Year’s fireworks were already bursting in the night – before we realized it, we had already welcomed the new year. For some strange reason, there was a tinge of sadness, as if this suspension had only just begun, yet had to end soon.
A few days after the Christmas break, Angelina and I headed straight to the exhibition hall right after school, only to give our exhibition a bit more company. Like the dust in the sunlight, time seemed to have paused in the afternoon air, yet it still slipped quietly through our fingertips.
On the afternoon of January 9th, the pale green door curtain at the exhibition hall’s exit was taken down. Emptied bit by bit, the room returned to the way it looked when we first met it.
This experience has brought us invaluable gains, leaving a truly special stroke in the prologue of our lives. Looking ahead to the future, we will grow more professional and mature, reaching a larger scale of audiences — this is surely something to hope for. But when and where will our next exhibition be? It will likely be held in distant foreign lands. And when the time comes, will we still be able to capture the genuine feelings and warmth of this first time?
To me, this memory crafted by our own hands will reappear in countless moments to come, carrying me back to this very platform where I once stood at seventeen. Once more, I will see the figures of everyone surrounded by the soft, warm white light, letting all these tiny images stay and last.
- Article / Yvonne Yang
- Pictures / Yvonne Yang & Angelina Deng
