【Exhibition】2025 Outstanding Art Prize

Li, Jhao-Ci
《Succumbing to the Will of the Victor》
Echinopsis pachanoi grafted onto myrtillocactus, Anti-bird spikes, Echinopsis pachanoi grafted onto myrtillocactus, Echinopsis pachanoi grafted onto myrtillocactus, Gymnocalycium mihanovichii var. friedrichii onto myrtillocactus, Alluaudia procera, Stainless steel, Claw hook, Self-adhesive bandage, Rodent spikes, Ornate column
Dimensions variable, 2025

Grafting, assembling, uprooting, reinserting, replacing—these gestures are not merely horticultural or sculptural operations, but processes of control, displaced survival, forced growth, and the aestheticization of violence. They resonate with my ongoing concerns about history, power, and colonial entanglements.
Through grafting and assemblage, the work integrates the suspended states of botanical pseudo-death and regrowth with ready-made deterrent objects such as anti-theft spikes. This forms a vocabulary of installation suspended between the organic and the inorganic. Within the space, it generates a fragile tension—each exhibition reveals a new state shaped by the plant’s continued transformation and its evolving, often compelled, form.

Lin,I-Tsen
《Echoes of Light》
Self-made charcoal pencils (Broussonetia papyrifera), paper pulp mounted onto wooden panel
70×70×2cm, 2024《Beyond the Time》
Self-made charcoal pencils (Broussonetia papyrifera), paper pulp mounted onto wooden panel
120×140×2cm, 2024

When I gaze into the forest light and shadow, the sunlight filters through the leaves, and a breeze stirs, making the backlit outlines of the leaves ripple. The overlapping and dispersing light and shadow cause the trees’ forms to appear and disappear, as if time itself is flowing within. This perceptual experience prompts me to ponder how to extend the rhythm of light and shadow in my work. The charcoal I use comes from branches I personally carbonized, transforming plants into tools for depicting themselves. The paper pulp is made from old documents and fibers from plants I’ve grown, embedding time and memory within its deconstruction and recomposition. In the picture, light and shadow are no longer mere subjects to depict but appear like traces flickering in the forest—whispers left behind by materials and time.

Chang,Jui-Che
《Bookmark all tabs》
Paper, epoxy, specimen
Dimensions variable, 2025

This work explores how humans perceive and store information from reality through two intertwined modes: compression and reproduction.

On one hand, I collect roadkill animals and preserve them as specimens. These flattened remains becoming imprints of natural life along the routes of civilization.

On the other hand, I gather low-resolution advertisement images online and transform them into three-dimensional object , attempting to reconstruct the poses of the animals before death.

Both the physical remnants and the degraded digital images share a parallel condition in the information age. They overlap and converge as channels through which people imagine or piece together a lost original state — attempts to simulate or re-present a version of reality that can no longer be directly accessed.

Chen, Kuan-Lin
《The Thickness of Paper》
Pigment print, print on light box, photo book
Dimensions variable, 2025

The former Weißenstein AG paper factory is located in Pforzheim in the Black Forest, Germany. The factory was founded in 1861 and operated until the 2000s, when it was abandoned. To this day, the factory is virtually empty, and the future of the building is still undecided. Chen photographed the paper factory with B&W film which expired over 20 years ago, resulting in blurry images with the surface of the film affected by molds and grains. Chen tried to build a connection between the history of the expired analog films and the abandoned paper factory. He printed the images, glued them to a wall, ripped parts off again and rephotographed the images with another rolls of expired film several times. This kind of repetitive process creates a lot of layers while the contrast decreases – until the final image is hard to recognize.

Chen, Hsing-Yu
《Trace-002》
Site-specific, Printmaking, Paper
Dimensions variable, 2025

“Traces-002” is derived from mottled and damaged traces found in everyday life, and constructs islands that do not exist in reality through the associative qualities of images. The cracks peeling from the wall and the mottled marks presented through printed images on the opposite side form a visual and conceptual connection through the ideas of “destruction” and “reproduction.”

By emphasizing the commonality of these traces, these seemingly worthless remnants are brought back into the viewer’s gaze through magnification. Through this process of viewing and reproduction, the work aims to reconsider the way individuals are positioned and exist, and to reflect on whether those often overlooked things may also carry a value worth observing.

Tseng, Tzu-Chia
《Ripple》
Paper, Ink
450×225cm, 2025

Do we truly have absolute freedom of choice? Or are each of our decisions shaped by the intangible interplay of external factors and influences? Ripples arise from my questioning and reflection on “individual choice.” I once believed that to be an independent individual meant to have the freedom to choose. Yet as my thinking matured, I began to doubt: are my choices purely the result of my own will? Are there traces from others that influence my judgments? The work is composed of multiple independent images, juxtaposed and assembled, attempting to evoke a latent interconnectedness that creates responses and attractions between the images—as if being reorganized by a larger context.

Huang, Tzu-Yu
《Metal Manifesto: Chapter III – The Materialized World》
Video installation, chrome-plated sphere, matte-gray sphere, stainless steel
Dimensions variable, 42’31”, 2025

This work explores metal as a futuristic symbol of the digital age through a transdisciplinary dialogue spanning materiality, technology, and spirituality. Utilizing computer-generated imagery, the work simulates metal’s optical behaviors in digital modeling while invoking alchemical philosophy to frame metal as a crucible where matter and consciousness converge. Its high reflectivity and structural integrity render it an ideal virtual material, embodying humanity’s perpetual pursuit of technology and the unknown.

The installation merges industrial materiality with digital virtuality, repurposing tools like HDRI capture and ray tracing as contemporary alchemical instruments. A semicircular metal tube—an open alchemical symbol (☉)—anchors the structure, while a circular projection screen acts as the “digital furnace’s” portal. Twin spheres symbolize the “reflected present” (a chrome-plated orb) and the “computed future” (a matte HDRI capture ball), constructing a liminal space between factory and temple, matter and spirit. This hybrid field interrogates the dialectics of materiality and transcendence in the technological era.

Lai, Ka-Po
《Sanctities》
Dual-screen video, 2025

“Sanctities”is a dual-screen video installation exploring religious experiences. The work centers on the Penrose triangle as its core motif – an impossible geometric figure that appears “valid” only from specific angles, metaphorically representing sacred experiences in faith. The two vertical screens present the same scene: one reveals a sacred moment from a believer’s perspective, where the Penrose triangle and tea-offering ritual embody transcendence, echoing the Chinese cultural sentiment of revering deities as elders and expressing devotion through tea offerings. The work examines how the boundary between the sacred and the secular transforms based on the observer’s beliefs, inviting viewers to reflect on the nature of faith through shifting perspectives.

Li, Ning-Jyun
《Animated bopomofo》
Video Installation, digital print, 2024

Tapping the keyboard, the Zhuyin symbols on the screen do not form a string of characters but appear one after another. Each symbol follows the previous one, its features momentarily lingering in the viewer’s eye. Like animation, the Zhuyin moves.
The word “animation” derives from the Latin word “animātiōn, meaning the act of giving life to that which is inanimate. Tapping the keyboard without the intention of writing is like infusing “life” into the still, lifeless symbols.