Fine Art, UK

PROJECT 04: Sparrows, Frogs, and Wildcats — A Machine of Desire

Project Description

Centred on the intrinsic link between appetite and sexual desire, the project explores the inner conflict and reconstruction of the self in human beings as "machines of eating and sex" caught up in chaotic desire. Through installation, sculpture and multimedia, the artist transforms bodily organs (such as the "gaping mouth", "swollen belly" and "narrow throat" that symbolise desire) into the physical structure of a machine — a metaphor for humanity's endless pursuit of sensory stimulation and the dissolution of the self.

Core Concepts

Giving Desire Physical Form

The machine's main structure (gaping mouth, narrow throat, swollen belly) symbolises all-consuming, unrestrained desire and chaotic instinct.
The machine's "low-energy" operating state alludes to the emptiness that follows the satisfaction of desire, and to the eternal tug-of-war between reason and impulse.

Research Basis

Drawing on psychological research (e.g. Kang et al., 2016) that analyses the dissociation between "wanting" and "liking", the project examines the dual physiological and psychological drivers of desire.
The artist references the visual language of Eva Fàbregas, Klára Hosnedlová and others, blending biomorphic forms with an industrial aesthetic.

Creative Logic

Conflict and dissolution: The struggle between self-awareness and chaotic instinct; the machine's "unstable states" (such as the sting symbolised by needles and the metaphor of a spreading virus) express the uncontrollable nature of desire.
Cross-media expression: Combining video (link) with installation, the work creates an immersive sensory experience of the body as the "backdrop of desire".

Final Presentation

Konzert-Rosenberg: The finale, framed as a mechanical symphony, layers multiple senses (sound, light and shadow, touch) to simulate the swelling and collapse of desire, echoing the philosophical proposition that "chaos is the source of creation".

My Journey and Takeaways

Stage 1: Seeds of Chaos (Background Research and Theoretical Groundwork)

Timeline: early in the project, about 1–2 months
At first, I was deeply drawn to the hidden link between appetite and sexual desire — why are humans dominated by these two instincts again and again? They are like two entangled undercurrents that both drive life forward and devour reason. I immersed myself in psychology papers, and when I read Kang and colleagues' research on the dissociation between "wanting" and "liking", I suddenly realised that the essence of desire may not be satisfaction but an eternal pursuit.

Struggle: The theory was too abstract — how could I turn it into a visual language? I drew countless sketches of gaping mouths, swollen bellies and narrow throats… but they always felt stiff, like anatomical drawings with no soul. Then I saw Dirk Staschke's ceramic installations, and their paradoxical mix of decay and abundance struck me: a desire machine shouldn't be cold — it needs the warmth of flesh and blood.

Stage 2: Birth of the Machine (Giving the Concept Form and Hitting a Creative Block)

Timeline: mid-project, 3–4 months
I decided to turn bodily organs into machine parts. The throat, as thin as a pipe, symbolises the suffocating grip of desire; the belly swells like a furnace, devouring everything yet never full. I built the first model from silicone and welded metal, but it looked like a horror-film prop, with no poetry at all. My tutor sneered: "Your machine looks too much like a machine."

Epiphany: One day at the market, I watched a fishmonger slit open a fish's belly, and the moment the guts slid out, it clicked — the vessel of desire must be fragile. I tore off the silicone and replaced it with translucent resin, letting light pass through the swollen belly to reveal vein-like patterns. A needle mechanism randomly pierces the surface, alluding to desire spiralling out of control and destroying itself.

Stage 3: Symphony of Chaos (Cross-Media Integration and Final Presentation)

Timeline: late in the project, 2 months
In the final stage, I wanted the audience to "experience" desire rather than "watch" it. In the video, a virus spreads from the mouth into creeping vines, set to the sound of breathing made of industrial noise; the floor around the installation is strewn with grains of wheat that rustle as people walk across them, as if they were being caught in the thorns of desire. While we were adjusting the lighting, the team complained: "It's too dark — you can't see the structure at all!" I insisted: "Chaos doesn't need clarity — clarity is the enemy of desire."

Climax: On the day of the exhibition, some people stood trembling in front of the machine; others covered their ears and fled. One girl said, "It reminds me of the night I got my heart broken — I kept eating chocolate, and the more I ate, the emptier I felt." At that moment, I knew the machine had come alive.

Takeaways

Grafting art onto science: Psychological theory was no longer just words on paper; it became the scalpel with which I dissected desire.
The betrayal of materials: Resin, needles, grains of wheat — they taught me that the choice of material is itself a metaphor.
Embracing chaos: I used to strive for perfect control, but I finally understood that the truth of desire lies precisely in the vitality of losing control.

Afterword

After the project ended, I often dreamed that I had become that machine: my throat so narrow I could barely breathe, my belly stretched until it was translucent — yet as the gears turned, there was a strange sense of peace. Perhaps creation is, by nature, a revel in which we conspire with chaos.