The Hong Kong born and London-based artist Lysander Wong’s inventive paper cut-out films, which merge mixed-media techniques with charming animations, may appear like they’re set in an alternative universe, but Lysander’s core focus is set firmly on how individuals take up space on Earth. Through the lens of Lysander’s trans and queer experiences, themes of fragility, tension and humanity are playfully tackled between the visual and physical, with paper standing in as the ultimate metaphor of the flimsiness of bodies.
His first film OverThreaded (shown at London International Animation Festival 2024) takes the world of fibre art, textiles and our relationships to tactil…
The Hong Kong born and London-based artist Lysander Wong’s inventive paper cut-out films, which merge mixed-media techniques with charming animations, may appear like they’re set in an alternative universe, but Lysander’s core focus is set firmly on how individuals take up space on Earth. Through the lens of Lysander’s trans and queer experiences, themes of fragility, tension and humanity are playfully tackled between the visual and physical, with paper standing in as the ultimate metaphor of the flimsiness of bodies.
His first film OverThreaded (shown at London International Animation Festival 2024) takes the world of fibre art, textiles and our relationships to tactile materials to imaginative heights. A main character (of sorts) is established through a sewing needle, which multiplies and flies across the screen before the film becomes densely populated with knit, nets, mesh, bits and bobs, all teeming and socialising like microscopic lifeforms. In one segment, small strings of wool wiggle from one side of the side to the other like aquatic creatures. Even the credits are animated as the sides of the frame are cluttered with the entire toolbox of a textile maker, vibrating excitedly.
There’s an incredible sense of giving life to the inanimate in Lysander’s work. In his film Foreign Bodies, which he animated on a multi-plane set up, every element of the animation feels distinct due to the casting of its shadows, giving the film an unique third dimension despite appearing 2D. Described as a short about “the horror of having a body”, the existential dread of existing materially is no better captured than through the analogue – the crumpling of paper communicates the decay of skin, string stitching brings the viewer even closer to the extra-sensory experience of injury and painted action lines in the background accentuate the depths of dissociation. You can really believe that paper and wool has a menacing life of its own in these surreal shorts, which make Lysander a definite stand-out in a world of digital media and one to keep your eye on.