Feng Li works from the edges. of awareness, of performance, of what we call reality before it breaks into something strange. His photographs interrupt the everyday with a flash that exposes theater people walking by without noticing, catching them in a situation that feels both accidental and perfectly thrown. After almost two decades White Nighthe speaks with calm certainty about the world he documents: that human nature repeats itself endlessly, that truth functions more like an illusion, and that stillness is a temporary state at best. His images push the viewer into that in-between space where clarity and confusion lie side by side, and neither is resolved.
In this conversation with DSCENE magazine Jana KosticFeng Li reflects on performance, the irrelevance of responses, the artificiality embedded in every environment humans touch, and the absurd continuity of human behavior in cities. He talks about the threshold where the real becomes unreal, the instinct that tells him when to pick up the camera, and how two decades of images have broadened the emotional register of White Night, from satire and discomfort to something softer, almost romantic.
You once said a good question is more important than a good answer. What’s the most persistent question you still haven’t answered? – I have no more questions about this world. Once you realize that the world is nothing but an improvised troupe, all questions about humanity lose their meaning. In the end, we return to philosophy to ponder and explain everything before us: Who are we? Where do we come from and where are we going?
You often catch people on the edge of awareness, half in character, half lost in their own world. What truths do you think emerge in this in-between state? – It is a threshold, a convergence of the real and the unreal. I like to let what is real appear in a blurred or abstract state, opening up more space for the imagination. I only present what I see. I’m in no mood to explain it. Reality is nothing more than Schrödinger’s cat.
Everyone is an actor, including me. We are constantly playing our roles.
Do you think people play most of the time? Or do you think reality only leaks through in moments of distraction? – Everyone is an actor, including me. We are constantly playing our roles. The people who appear in my photographs inevitably also become my actors. I don’t have a script. I only press the shutter when their performance aligns with the narrative I am pursuing. Often, those who are photographed are unaware that they have entered my story. At times they know they are being photographed. I don’t care if it’s staged or sincere, what I want to express is not some so-called truth.
Do you think of yourself as a storyteller or someone who interrupts the story? – Every photo hides a story for me, more or less, like One Thousand and One Nights. All these little stories eventually merge into one whole. Of course, they can also be rearranged like tarot cards, creating new sequences and meanings at any time. I hope that each image contains a single point, from which countless stories can emerge.
Reality is nothing more than Schrödinger’s cat.
What moment makes you pick up the camera? – Only when I see it do I realize it’s time to act. before that, I don’t know anything. That’s why I always hold my camera waiting for that moment.
You have worked for years as a government photographer, capturing officials, factories and infrastructure. Which world seems more artificial to you? – Now I see no difference, where there are people, there are traces of human intervention. Our planet is everywhere scarred, covered with artificial scars.
As long as people are involved, nothing surprises me.
Much of the White Night series is photographed in Chengdu, but you’ve also worked in Paris, Tokyo, Berlin. What remains the same wherever you are and what surprises you? -What remains unchanged is the universality of human nature. Whether in Paris, Tokyo, Berlin, or the city where I live, human complexity is everywhere the same. My photos are not about geography. As long as people are involved, nothing surprises me.
After almost two decades of White Night, do you still feel like you’re chasing something? – From the initial search and observation to today, I no longer have lingering questions about the human world. Once you realize that all these issues, past, present and future, just repeat themselves endlessly, there is nothing worth investigating. Rather than a pursuit, it is more of a process of gradual development.
If White Night has been an ongoing conversation since 2005, what is it starting to say now that it didn’t before? – From the beginning of White Night until now, what I have sought to express is a sense of the surreal or unreal within reality. For me, the past of the past is also the future, and this logic always runs throughout my creative process.
White Nights in Wonderland brings together two decades of your work in one space. When you see these images side by side, what story do you think they are telling now that they didn’t tell before? – Over time, the photos, once few, accumulated and became richer. Viewers can see that the emotions in my images are not only absurd, satirical or sharp, but also romantic and poetic. From the early works full of power to the later ones filled with softer, more restrained emotions, the range has widened.
I only press the shutter when their performance aligns with the narrative I am pursuing.
The photos hover between humor, suffering and something anonymous. What do you hope viewers will take away from the exhibition space? – I leave this question to the audience. I never impose preconceived meanings on my work. Any response from the viewer is acceptable to me, as when I encounter these scenes in real life, most people around me remain indifferent.
In a time when everything is moving fast, do you think that stillness is becoming radical or even impossible? – Stillness does not mean regression, especially in times of rapid change. We need relative quiet to reflect and settle. What we need to watch out for is not “falling behind”, but rather the blindness caused by constant acceleration. Personally, I prefer to remain an observer, to avoid being swept into the torrent, but even then, it is beyond my control. In a raging current, relative stillness is almost impossible. Even the hardest, most angular stones are eventually smoothed by the flow.
Even if the world we live in is a mess, there are still countless things beyond humanity that deserve our attention.
When disorder becomes the norm, what does clarity look like? – You must realize that “peaceful times” is nothing but an empty phrase. But that doesn’t mean we give up courage or curiosity. Even if the world we live in is a mess, there are still countless things beyond humanity that deserve our attention and care – plants, animals, nature and the universe.
Originally published in DSCENE “The New Disorder” issue.
