Yujie Zhou: Weaving Resistance, Reframing Memory

Yujie Zhou (they/them) is a Chinese visual artist based in Helsinki, Finland. Working with photography, textiles, video, and publishing, their practice explores performativity and language, often in relation to history, identity, and power. Drawing from the tension between their nationalist upbringing in China and life in Finland, Zhou reframes dominant narratives through layered, research-driven works.

𝗣𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗮 𝗯𝗶𝘁 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗰 𝗽𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗲!

I am a visual artist working across textiles, photography, and moving image. I approach my practice as a means of contesting power and censorship through the lenses of surveillance, state narratives, and collective memory. Drawing on both personal and socio-political histories, I explore how systems of control are embedded in image-making, algorithmic structures, and propaganda.

Weaving, particularly Jacquard weaving, plays a central role in my work, functioning both as a medium and a metaphor. I often transform censored digital texts and images into tactile, encrypted textile surfaces. The Jacquard loom’s historical connection to binary code and computing serves as a recurring point of reference. By embedding glitches and pixelation into the woven surface, I use the medium as both a shield and a form of resistance.

𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗬𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝗰𝘆?

I was drawn to New York because of its diverse diaspora communities and the wealth of grassroots activism and archives here. I wanted to research the impact of censorship and historical amnesia on cultural identity, particularly Asian diaspora histories.

My long-term project Panoptic Segmentation examines censorship and disciplinary mechanisms tied to surveillance and indoctrination—a topic that first became personal to me when I studied abroad in Chicago and gained access to websites banned in China. That moment cracked open a world of histories and events I never had access to. Since moving to Finland, access to a diverse perspective and community-specific archives has been limited. New York offered an opportunity to work with archives and communities I could reach, and to connect with collectives actively preserving underrepresented histories. I came here to seek out those spaces, engage with the materials, and learn from the communities.

𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙪𝙥 𝙩𝙤 𝙞𝙣 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝙔𝙤𝙧𝙠 𝘾𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙙𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙚𝙬 𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙝𝙨?

During my residency, I visited archive spaces including Asia Art Archive in America, the Lesbian Herstory Archives, and Interference Archive—researching their collections and attending events they hosted. I joined self-defense workshops organized by Fearless Queerness (at Bluestockings Bookstore and the Bash Bash Revolution Zine Fest) and took part in gatherings organized by Angry Asian Womxn. These spaces became crucial to my process—not only for the material they offered, but for the conversations and connections they sparked.

I also attended Nvzi Zhuyi, a Chinese feminist stand-up show, in my first weekend here, and joined fundraisers organized by Queers for Liberate Palestine. These moments of shared language and political stances made me feel I can have a space where I feel safe.

Chinatown became a special space for me, whether for my favorite tofu skin dish, tea with new friends, or simply walking its streets. I also enjoyed the Museum of Chinese in America to see its exhibitions on racism and immigration history.

Parks became a counterbalance to the city’s intensity. I loved walking in Central Park and in Fort Tryon Park near my apartment; those are the spaces that helped me recharge. And I loved cycling from Manhattan to my studio at Pioneer Works in Red Hook, thanks to the bike I got at Frank’s Bike Shop. That commute became an unexpected joy.

𝗖𝗮𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝘂𝘀 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗵 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝘃𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗱𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗹𝗼𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗱𝘂𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝗰𝘆?

My time here has focused on research into censorship, racism, and queerness—particularly as they intersect in diaspora histories. I’ve been speaking with members of Asian American communities whose stories resonate with my own questions around racialized visibility and archival erasure.

In the archives, I encountered rare and censored materials—from queer zines in East Asia to personal stories in Nüshu script—that I had never seen before. These discoveries opened up new directions for my work, both in terms of content and methodology.

The events I joined, like those organized by Angry Asian Womxn, reinforced my interest in collective resistance and care. Humor, protest, and skill-sharing became as much a part of my research as the documents in the archives.

𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁’𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝗺𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝗱𝘂𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗡𝗬𝗖?

It was so memorable watching Nvzi Zhuyi, moved by how powerful those often unspeakable experiences were told in our own language, from our own perspective.

Another moment that stayed with me was seeing a full house at Asia Art Archive in America for the event: “Vaguely Asian”: A Gathering and Presentations to celebrate Leadership Camp VI. The sense of visibility and solidarity in that room felt rare and deeply affirming.

𝗗𝗶𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝘂𝗻𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗮𝘀, 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀, 𝗼𝗿 𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗮𝗯𝗼𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗴𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲?

I came across censored materials published in East Asia, as well as records of early queer life in China—findings I hadn’t anticipated, but which will shape my future work. I met artists, writers, and organizers across the diaspora whose perspectives have expanded my thinking. I also built friendships, reconnecting with people from previous chapters of my life and meeting others through events or studio visits. I cherished moments like walking in Central Park or sharing a meal in Chinatown with new friends.

𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗽𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝗲𝗻𝗴𝗮𝗴𝗲𝘀 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗵𝗶𝘃𝗲𝘀, 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲𝘀, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗱𝗶𝗴𝗶𝘁𝗮𝗹 𝘁𝗼𝗼𝗹𝘀 — 𝗼𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗻 𝗶𝗻 𝗽𝗼𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗰 𝗼𝗿 𝗰𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀.

This residency allowed me to move between institutional and grassroots archives, and to think critically about how we access history. That process echoed my interest in using digital tools not for preservation alone, but for disruption and re-imagination.

𝗛𝗼𝘄 𝗱𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗮𝗰𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝗯𝗲𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗹𝗼𝗴 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗱𝗶𝗴𝗶𝘁𝗮𝗹 𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸?

I often use digital tools for processing, coding, and design, but my works—especially Jacquard weavings—are handwoven. The Jacquard loom, often considered a precursor to modern computing, operates on binary code. I’m drawn to weaving becomes a physical resistance to a binary system.

𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁’𝘀 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂?

After some rest, I’ll be focusing on production for my project An Oriental Girl, which will be part of the group exhibition Invisible Race at the Finnish Museum of Photography in September 2025. The work continues my research into racialized visibility, archival silences, and self-representation.

Later this year, I’ll join residencies at Stiftung Künstlerdorf Schöppingen Foundation in Germany and at Treasure Hill Artist Village in Taiwan in early 2026. I look forward to expanding this research across different cultural contexts, carrying forward the ideas and connections seeded here in New York.

Pictures: Yujie Zhou, from the series An Oriental Girl [detail], 2025

Website: yujiezhou.xyz

Interview questions by Emma Termonen
Published: August 27th, 2025