Technology Advances While Allowing Feelings to Evolve  - Amy Hui Li

by Xuanyu Yang and Yirue Kim, rednote (@RUESHUXUAN)

8 May 2025

Over the past weeks of speaking with Amy, what surprised me most was her acute sensitivity to emotional nuance. Her universe is not simply defined by one, two, or three - it lives in the countless decimals between one and two. Amy obtained her MA in Painting from the Royal College of Art in 2023. During her studies, she began to focus on her own inner emotions and memories. Her first solo exhibition in London, ‘paradise lost’ with Unit Gallery, took despair and pain as its starting point. By allowing these damaged emotions to loop, she created a contrast to highlight the temporary nature of rare happiness. “I care deeply about how people confront and reflect upon their sorrow and fragility,” she explained. “How do we digest those feelings of despair - do we escape them, or grow stronger out of them? How can we extract value within hopelessness?” In her words, “To live is often to suffer; it’s both a burden and a daily reality.” And so, when viewing 'paradise lost', peeling back those layers of red reveals a journey: from wholeness to fragmentation, then to repairing and healing - a process of self-transcendence.

Amy’s creative anchor lies in the concept of ‘Expanded Painting’[1]. This approach breaks through the traditional confines of only brush and canvas, opening her practice to diverse materials and spatial dimensions. “The size of the material is no longer limited by the frame - it can even stretch to fill up an entire space. That gives the painting an infinite sense of possibility.” She explores how her emotions interact with various materials, letting their textures and the act of making spark chemical reactions with her body and mind. “Everything starts from the heart - the closer it feels, the better,” she said. One moment that stayed with us came when we asked how she developed her current series. She responded, “Your hands mustn’t stop. As you seek tactility, you simultaneously develop a relationship with the materials. In that, you find what resonates with your inner world.”

In our present era, with the rise of digital tools and AI, nearly anything can be generated within seconds. But this hyper-efficient system risks turning us into worker bees, dulling our capacity to feel, empathise and care. We may scoff at the old masters who spent hours -even months -perfecting a single line or colour. Yet theirs was not merely a technical exercise; it was a training of perception, an attainment of emotion. When asked about her forthcoming plans, Amy admitted that she prefers to keep on painting before she plans too far ahead. “The freshness and surprise of the creative process are incredibly precious. I only hope that each future work will be given enough time to fully merge with my inner world - to innovate while remaining honest until the work feels truly complete to me.” We look forward to the vivid or delicate emotions Amy continues to gather in life - and how she’ll one day transform them into strength through her art. To read her words is to see her face—there’s so much yet to come.

[1] ‘Expanded Painting’ – book by Mark Titmarsh, 2017.

photos by unit gallery 

R: What has been the most significant transformation for you during your MA at the RCA?

A: Rather than calling it the greatest transformation, I would describe it as the greatest challenge - adapting quickly to a new, open-ended environment for creative work, all within the constraints of limited space and time. It required me to shift from a habitual creative rhythm to one that is more responsive and attuned to everyday fluctuations. At RCA, things can happen at any moment, and remaining alert to that possibility for extended periods can make the creative process especially demanding. Though I missed having privacy and quiet, I gained much invaluable knowledge from my peers around me. 

R: As a painter, how do you balance preserving traditional techniques with exploring new media?

A: As you know, I explored the concept of “Expanded Painting” within my practice. Simply put, it’s about more than just the presence of pigment on canvas - it’s about pushing the materials beyond the confines of the stretcher frame, sometimes even extending them into the space of a room. This opens up limitless possibilities for painting. I believe artists shouldn't feel constrained by material or medium. Instead of starting with whether to use traditional techniques or modern approaches, we should first ask which method resonates more. I have a deep love and passion for colour and pigment, with a strong desire to control.  However, when the visual effect of oil on a flat canvas doesn't fully meet my needs, then I extract and transform elements from different media to express the picture in my mind. Eventually, this led to the formation of the current series. Brushes and paint are just as important as my tearing method. As for finding balance - Everything starts from the heart - the closer it feels, the better.

R: As an artist, how should one choose the 'appropriate medium', and how does one develop a 'personal style'?

A: If a 'style' hasn’t yet taken shape, I believe it’s best to begin by experimenting and practising. Never stop making - while searching for a tactile connection, also develop a relationship with materials and seek the materials that resonate with your inner self. From those experiments, extract and refine the elements that most effectively express your language, then reorganise and combine them. I guess to set rules and limits for yourself - such as colour palettes or scales. All these seemingly minor decisions become parts of yours. It may sound easy, but it’s indeed a life-long battle.

R: How do you value the power of emotions that influence your work?

A: Whether a work is considered 'successful' is a significant challenge for any artist. To me, “success” can be understood as a “breakthrough” or the “completion” of a piece. After creating a 'successful' piece, the next challenge is how to extend that into a follow-up or a series of interconnected works that go even deeper. I don’t see art as good or bad, but rather whether it resonates with the viewer. That kind of resonance is very subjective and doesn’t always align with the artist’s original intentions. But when a painting evokes or connects with the viewer’s emotions, that’s where its strength lies. The most precious moment for me is when during a gallery day, I found myself pauses in front of a painting that made me emotionally moved. The emotions a viewer experiences can open up a second path to understanding a piece - one that doesn’t belong solely to the artist and goes beyond what the artist can control or foresee. That kind of connection is rare and truly powerful. 

R: "Which of your works has moved you the most? Are there any particularly vivid memories from the creative process you could share?"

A: For me, each of my works carries a strong sense of emotional truth. They are deeply connected to my inner world, and through them, I’m able to channel some of the hidden, negative emotions I experience. I bring them into being - they are like extensions of my body. In my paintings, I explore the emotional texture of inner trauma and wounds, using layered gestures and marks to confront vulnerability and fear. From there, I seek healing and hope, even within what feels utterly desolate. My materials are extremely fragile, but that fragility, when examined closely and intimately, holds a great power. One piece I remember particularly vividly is ‘exposed’. It transformed from a damaged painting from before - a piece I salvaged and then used to explore a new series.  I extracted usable sections from the ruined work, expanding them into something entirely different. It was with this piece that I began to play with both the front and back sides of the canvas. The work also became the main image for my exhibition flyer.

R: "Tell us about your experience and feelings about being invited for a solo show."

A: Lowkey, I felt truly blessed to have a solo exhibition in London - it honestly felt like the stars had aligned for me.  It’s an incredible privilege. My solo brought together the essence of two years’ work in London - a total of twenty pieces. When I realised these works might soon travel across the world, no longer in the palm of my hand, I felt a bit reluctant to let go. But there was also so much freshness and intensity in those emotions. If I get the opportunity to work towards an exhibition again in future, I’d be up for it. I think it would be a lot of fun. Hopefully, more to come.

R: "What was the most unexpected feedback you’ve received from your audience?"

A: During my solo show earlier this January, one of my paintings was hanging alongside the gallery window. A friend came by and said to me, “Your painting looks like a piece of amber with hidden objects in it” I paused for a bit and think that was a beautiful comment. The piece, ‘i’m burning for no one’, looks entirely red at first glance, but there are many layers within the organza - oil, textiles, and embedded materials like felt. The organza itself is semi-opaque, so when viewed up close or under certain angles, hidden felt and texture details emerge. It’s not something you can spot easily. The element of “amber” especially struck me—conjuring up the passage of time, as if my work had somehow been preserved across centuries. That moved me deeply.

R: "What are your plans for the next project?”

A: There are some things that I hesitate to say out loud, for fear that I might not follow through. The sense of freshness and surprise in the creative process is something I truly cherish. Ideally, each new piece I produce will allow ample time for internal reflection, gradually evolving into a work that resonates deeply and feels truly complete. Since this series began here in London, I hope to continue developing. I’m often reminded of a quote from the Chinese artist Chen Danqing that has stayed with me: “In the end, what truly moves us is still love.” So yes - love passionately, and love our world!