Yang Song Is About to Become a “100,000+” Artist as His New Work “Halo” Goes Viral.

It’s not common for a serious artist to become a trending topic. But through the internet, Yang Song has for the first time felt his artwork embraced by netizens from all directions. The audience’s participation has become an unexpectedly meaningful part of this work.

His new installation, located in the public space of the 798 Art District, uses radiating steel wire that captures and reflects light from various angles, forming a captivating halo that sparks imagination. “It’s like I’m understanding my work all over again—it feels like a collaboration with the stars.”

The first time I met Yang Song, he wasn’t as aloof as his photos might suggest.

People who know Yang Song call him a “man like the wind.” He’s tall and lean, casual rather than formal, and moves with brisk energy. He loves to ride motorcycles—and sometimes brings a companion who also enjoys speed: his dog, Caiwa. His top speed record is 260 km/h, and his leather jacket bears the marks of many journeys.

Yang Song began with a traditional sculpture background, once deeply immersed in the raw, hand-crafted power of clay. But in 2014, he created Metamorphosis, submerging clay human figures in water. As they dissolved, he felt a resonance with the bodily withdrawal that occurs at high speeds—and began exploring the aesthetics of speed through de-physicalization.

At high speeds, visible objects blur and vanish. Yang Song captured this sensation in the form of overlapping steel wires and cotton threads—juxtaposing softness and sharpness—to create visual landscapes that feel like they’re disappearing before your eyes.

Yang Song’s relationship with speed is full of contradiction. Take his “Extinction Point” series, for instance: a set of wall-mounted installations created in collaboration with his father. They meticulously placed thousands of hair-thin steel wires by hand. This tension between the fast and the slow—the high-speed world and the painstaking manual process—reflects his view of technology as both liberating and alienating. “Speed” becomes a metaphor for the disembodiment of our digital age and the fragile beauty of physical experience.

Yang Song “Turner and moving car” Stainless steel plate, steel wire 92x122x9cm, 2021

Then, one day, a beam of light entered the equation—and ignited a whole new spark of expression, grounded in the lively, expressive DNA of Yang Song’s Northeastern roots.

Interview

798arts: How did light evolve from an accident into the centerpiece of your work?

Yang Song: Actually, there was no plan to include light at first. I was focused on images, on capturing the feeling of speed and presence. The halo appeared as an accidental byproduct of a material change. But light introduced a new dimensionality. It brought human and natural interaction. That was a kind of elevation.

798arts: What inspired the creation of Halo? Any surprises along the way?

Yang Song: The opportunity came when 798 invited my gallery to create a public installation. I’d already had this idea, and I really wanted to turn the series into a three-dimensional piece in a public environment—it all just clicked. What I didn’t expect was how many people would show up to engage with it.

One internet commenter called it “the speed of light.” I was stunned—he’d seen the skeleton of my entire work. He said, “When I look at it, I realize I’m watching the light, and the light is watching me.” Fans of the Three-Body Problem came and gave their own interpretations. This kind of “accidental arrival” might come from some higher-dimensional connection. It feels like the audience is participating from another dimension, helping the work evolve new meanings.

798arts: Halo is incredibly beautiful—moving, even. But what do you hope people feel from it?

Yang Song: I used to be obsessed with the conceptual framework of a piece. But this time, I realized the concept isn't the most important thing. Beauty—true beauty—is a high-level thing, especially the kind found in nature. Light, the sun, snow-covered mountains, rivers, a flower in spring… they all touch something universal. That’s what I wanted this work to achieve: a simple, direct connection.

Conceptual art often relies on text, but that can strip away emotional resonance. With Halo, the real protagonist is the sun. Its light and heat transform the structure and generate a halo that moves people. At that point, does my original idea about “speed” even matter? What’s beautiful is that people have brought their own concepts to the piece.

798arts: A hundred years after Futurism, we’re once again in a frenzy over AI and tech. What’s your take?

Yang Song: Back in the Futurist era, people were thrilled by acceleration. Today, I think we’re excited and fearful at the same time. I like motorcycles, for example—they’re fast but dangerous. But maybe the danger is part of the thrill. I don’t always know if I’m lost in speed or found in it. Am I dissolving or becoming more self-aware?

The world is moving so fast now, it feels out of control. But I hope we can still insist on physical experience. Maybe disembodiment is inevitable in a post-human era—our bodies might be too slow for future civilizations. Still, the body matters. We feel the world through it.

798arts: What would we lose if handmade work disappeared forever?

Yang Song: The body gives us a direct connection to the world. The joy of eating fruit today is the same as it was for our ancestors 10,000 years ago. But now we perceive everything through tools—there’s always a layer in between. We may gain new perspectives, but we lose something too.

798arts: Since Halo has been installed, have you seen it differently?

Yang Song: I’ve realized that people don’t always see the halo on cloudy days—and that makes it more magical. When the sun comes out and the halo appears, people realize it’s tied to the weather. That kind of encounter is rare and special.

Editor: Wu Tong 

Text has been proofread by the interviewee 

Photo credit: Artist