This conversation marks the ninth interview in the series ‘Defining Moments: The First Start or the Turning Moment’. We meet Neryhs Wo, a multidisciplinary artist from Hong Kong who explores the delicate tension between the desire to be found and the doubt that true understanding exists. Moving through poetry, painting, and installation, Neryhs transforms the inevitability of loneliness into freedom, offering her practice as a form of unconditional love to life.
Her artistic sensibility is informed by the narrative depth of Hayao Miyazaki and the 'sharp tenderness' of poet Sarah Kay. Yet, it is the memory of her late friend Jeff and a transformative encounter with a stranger during her 2018 exhibition that truly anchor her work. From these emotional threads, she weaves stories that act as fragments of life, inviting audiences to find pieces of themselves within her vulnerability.
Currently transitioning from the academic sphere to the independent stage, Neryhs is revisiting her ‘red tape series’ and deepening her research on belonging and home. This interview has been carefully edited to preserve her reflective voice and genuine perspective. Now, in the artist’s own words.
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Q. Thank you very much for taking the time to speak with us. To begin our conversation and introduce you to our readers, we would be grateful to hear how you would like to introduce yourself as an artist, and what kind of work you are currently focusing on.
A. I am a multidisciplinary artist whose practice explores the contradiction of hoping to be found and understood but doubting the existence of total understanding between minds. I express through various media such as poetry, paintings, illustrations, public installations, and performances.
I was born in Hong Kong, continued my BA (Hons) study in Fine Art at Chelsea College of Arts of the University of Arts London, and graduated with First Class Honours in 2020. I then finished her MA degree in Art in Public Space with distinction at RMIT University in 2024. I am now an emerging artist.
I see my art practice as my therapy, and the works are the audience’s story time. I have always been working on my relationship with loneliness, which is an inevitability in life. I believe the deeper we understand ourselves, the more loneliness will become freedom.
I tell stories through my art. They are fragments of my life, and when I come across an emotion or an idea that I find it impossible to let it slide or to express it through conversations, I make it into art. Art is very similar to love; it is reasonable, beautiful, or even inspiring if it is understood, but if not, it means absolutely nothing. So I present, and let the audience do the rest.
I consider creating art as a form of unconditional love I give to life.
Recently, I’ve been researching about the development of the sense of belonging and its relationship with the concept of home. I experiment with ideas, mostly writing and mixed media paintings.
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how could you leave me with such a long way to go
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Q. Could you share with us the initial catalyst that set you on the path of an 'artist,' or a decisive moment when you became fully immersed in your work? We would love to hear about the experience, the emotions you felt, and the first image or sensation that comes to mind when you recall that moment.
A. I never felt like I belonged anywhere. I think this is one of the core reasons why I became an artist. Through art, I explore the contradiction of hoping to be found and understood but doubting the existence of total understanding between minds. I express through various media such as poetry, paintings, illustrations, public installations, and performances.
I remember I was around 13, reading an interview of the Japanese sculptor, Riusuke Fukahori. I was incredibly touched by the concept of his exhibition “Goldfish Salvation”. He explained,
“In the aquarium, similar to human society, there is a story of birth and death. As long as they live, these goldfish will continue to soil the fish tank, and if not changed, the water will only get tainted leading to death for all the goldfish. This is quite true for the human species as well… The goldfish that I paint are not really goldfish, but representations of people. I feel as though the fish tank is only foretelling what would happen to the earth in the future. We as human beings are the main source polluting our own air we breathe.”
I deeply empathized with how he sees society and the fate of the human race. As I was reading and watching his process of creating his sculpture, I found myself becoming one of the goldfish in his works. I cried, then realized that this is something I will do – to bring out feelings and thoughts that were ignored, unsettled, or silenced within others, and make them loud and clear. To know what there is, and who you are.
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solo
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Q. Have you ever experienced a slump or faced significant difficulties in your creative process? If so, how did you navigate and overcome that period? We are also curious to know if this process led to discovering your unique style or artistic direction, and whether you noticed any changes in your environment or in the reactions of those around you.
A. I believe I am currently going through one of the biggest challenges in my art practice, where I am coming out from the cocoon of the academic environment to the independence of the art field. And it is scary.
Even though being an art student did prepare me for some of the tasks I’d need to do as an independent artist, such as learning to introduce the concept of my artworks or ways to write up a proposal, the change of environment is still a huge factor to adapt to.
The academic environment provided a comfort zone to for the artist to be a student fully, which allows them to experiment and develop a style in art with given chances, support, and unlimited space for failures. Still, you can do all that as an independent artist, but the chances are earned by you, and you are also your own support. So, the failures are going to hit much harder and feel personal now.
I try my best to strike a balance between pushing and not pushing too hard. I am such a stubborn head when it comes to my art practice, and I find it quite difficult to alter for higher exposures or being more “relatable” in trendy topics. I feel quite frustrated at times when I get rejected from different kinds of open calls. But at the same time, I have such a clear vision for my art, and I have a strong belief in why I am doing what I do.
With failures, I learn to improve my skill of presenting a proposal with more in depth and detailed descriptions for a better outcome. I learn to reflect on the process and collect more information on the current situation of the art industry, and know my position in it. More importantly, it trains my mind to accept failures and transform them into energy that allows me to make sharper decisions and more choices for more productive results.
Q. The fears or difficulties encountered on one's journey are often deeply connected to the birth of a particular artwork. Could you tell us about a piece that was especially challenging to create, but through which you gained a significant realization or felt a great sense of reward? Please share the experience behind that work and what that moment means to you now.
A. It would be the work, from______to _____。,which was an interactive installation that exhibited at Spilt Milk held at the 5th Base Gallery in London back in 2018. The installation includes original illustrations, sculptures, audio, and found objects.
It is still the work that I resonate with the deepest so far. Of course, it is not perfect and there is room for technical improvement, but I remember how devoted and dedicated I was in the entire process of development, starting from looking at all the messy and intimate emotions, gathering thoughts, and writing the story, to turning them into different parts and layers and presenting them via different media for the most complete experience. I do enjoy this work through and through.
I still remember the thrill, the excitement, and the nervousness when seeing the audience looking at and listening to my work. It’s like watching strangers stare at me naked with a magnifying glass, as the work is so intimately and transparently created. It was all of me at the time.
The responses from the audience were very touching as well. Some came to me with questions about the concept of the work, some came to find me with hugs, but one audience’s reaction was unforgettable. A girl who was in her late twenties, I remember she was the last audience on the last day we were showing, as I was waiting to take down my work. After some time, she came looking for me, she cried, I was shocked, and then she said ‘Thank you for creating such a piece that speaks to me.’ And that has been engraved in my heart since then. The written part of the story was written in three different languages, including English, Cantonese, and Japanese. Different languages represented a different part of me with a specific character and tone. This audience speaks all three of them as well. And she really took her time with my work as she found most of the hidden clues (such as the recorder in the suitcase and the other little things in it), and so she was able to understand the most out of the story.
It was right there and then, I understood the magic of art, of its capability of connecting two strange minds, and how it allows people to understand and feel each other’s inner world and energy in ways that nothing else can replicate.
This work has become one of the greatest motivations for me in this journey of creating art. It taught me the beauty and wholesomeness of being found and understood with art. And how it gives such powerful meaning to the moment.
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from______to _____。 |
Q. It seems that such an experience would have been a significant 'turning point' for you. Following that turning point, how did your artistic world and methodology change? Could you please elaborate on any specific ways your work has evolved since then?
A. I used to be such a selfish person in sharing emotions. I find it very difficult to express and show my true feelings (now talking about it, it’s probably due to some childhood trauma lying deep down), I turned to creating art, but it’s still an extremely stressful task for me to present my emotions without hiding so many hidden clues within the work. A part of me really wants to be found and understood, but a part of me is always afraid that my feelings and thoughts would be twisted and neglected.
Since the work, from______to _____。, and the emotional encounter followed by it, it opens me up a little bit. Actually, before the opening of the show, and we were going around to see others’ work, a friend of mine, who was also showing her work at the exhibition, saw mine, and she said to me that she’s really happy for me because she could see that I’m finally happy. The experiences with that artwork made a tiny crack in my shell of self-protection, and I have learned that my art practice is my safe space to feel and express, no matter how intimate and personal those emotions are.
Q. Following that turning point, did the core message or values you wish to convey through your art also change? If so, what do you consider the most significant shift?
A. Since then, I have become more expressive and bold in being honest and loud and clear about what I want to say with my work.
Moreover, rather than seeing my art practice as just my own therapy, that experience has inspired me to be more open-hearted and see my artworks also as an invitation for the viewers to join me in this journey of self-discovery.
It is definitely a shift in perspective, which has led to a continuous transformation to my art practice.
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| 99, 44 & 46 Blanks |
Q. Could you tell us about any individuals, artworks, or environments that have been influential in shaping your identity as an artist? We are also interested in learning how these influences are woven into your current work.
A. There is an individual who not only has a significant influence on my art practice but also plays an essential role in my life.
I met Jeff, Jeffrey Philip Tang, back in 2016, when we were both enrolled in the foundation diploma course at Central Saint Martins. He was in the fashion group, and I was in the fine art group, but we were also flatmates in the same flat in the same accommodation. We were inseparable since the first night we met. We became very close to each other, we were both new to London as he is from America and I was from Hong Kong, and we speak each other’s language in art and also in daily life. We inspire each other and grow together as artists, as friends, and as two souls who love each other with all our hearts. Sadly, he passed away suddenly in 2023, and I have changed ever since.
At the beginning of this interview, I explained how loneliness and my lack of sense of belonging led me to the world of art, but Jeff is the one person who came the closest to me and made my soul feel accompanied. He showed me the strength and warmth of love that I never imagined existed, and inspired me to live and create art with the freedom and love I did not know before.
So, yes, he is the most important soul and now exists in many of my works in ways that can only be felt.
On the other hand, there are a couple of artists who influence me artistically. Hayao Miyazaki has always been my inspiration since I was little. His clever way of using metaphor to convey strong and philosophical messages to society is something I enjoy seeing as an audience. But it is his persistence in creating exactly what he believes the world should see in his unique way that I admire the most. I love the stubbornness he puts into protecting and building his works with certain techniques and styles. And, I believe, it is his way to protect his inner world, too. I resonate with this on different levels.
Sarah Kay, the poet, also inspired and showed me the strength and softness that words can carry through. Her works, especially Postcards, and her duet performance with Phil Kaye, When Love Arrives, have something I call sharp tenderness within the poetry. Her words are like a sharp arrow that is made out of scented air - it hits exactly where it needs to and disappears before you can see it landing on the ground. But you’d feel it, and you will still feel it after reading it a hundred times. (I tested.)
Q. What role does the audience play in your creative process? How does the act of sharing your work with others impact its meaning for you?
A. It is all about the desire of “being found and understood”.
The artwork I created is my cry for help, and the audience is the ears. The ones that heard might come over to look, or even give a hand or a hug, or some might scream or yell or cry or talk or just smile back. It really depends on what the audience understands from my work.
Everyone has their own stories and lessons in life to learn, but maybe sometimes need a little push or hint to have the courage to look right at it. Through interacting with my works and hopefully getting inspired by my actions, my audiences can become more engaged with their own stories. My works are only a short introduction or a little motivating force for the audience’s long journey of self-discovery.
Q. Thank you so much for sharing such thoughtful insights with us today. As we conclude our conversation, building on your past turning points, in what new directions do you hope your artistic world will evolve? What new ideas or uncharted territories are most exciting to you right now?
A. I am currently going back to the red tape series that I left untouched for some years. I am trying to break through in art practice and in life with the past experiences and create a more solid style that helps me to convey my ideas and my unique character more accurately via my artworks.
Breaking through is never easy, and extremely time and energy consuming, but I will try.
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| 90 Thoughts on Lies |
ContactArtist : Neryhs Wo
Instagram : @neryhs_wo
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