by Ilaria Ferri

Xin Zhang, born in 2000, is a young Chinese artist studying Painting and Visual Arts at the Academy of Fine Arts in Bologna (2024/25). She holds a degree in 2D and 3D Animation from Changchun University of Technology (2019-2023), a high school diploma with Italian language studies, and a master in Painting and Visual Arts. Her artistic practice blends digital and traditional techniques, creating works that are full of movement, color, and emotion. She has exhibited personal projects, such as “The Dance of Butterflies,” and teaches art to children, sharing her creativity and artistic sensitivity.

You took part in the 12th edition of the COMEL Award with Tent of Blades, an installation that transforms a domestic and welcoming element into something potentially threatening. How did the idea for this work come about, and what reflection lies at its origin?

The starting point for this work was a reflection on “inner safety” and on what it means to “hide from oneself.” Everything began during my studies in Italy: I was living in a shared apartment, and my room was the only place that truly felt like mine. I couldn’t stand the idea of someone entering my space without permission, so I began hanging curtains and drapes to separate my private realm from the outside world. That’s where the idea for the piece was born: placing soft curtains next to sharp blades, transforming a warm and reassuring object into something that instead evokes a deep sense of threat and discomfort.

In Tent of Blades, the rigidity of metal and the softness of fabric coexist in a precarious balance. How important was it for you to construct this tension visually and spatially?

This constant contrast between softness and rigidity is the true heart of the work. Visually, the lightness of the fabric clashes sharply with the cold, cutting nature of the metal, while in the surrounding space this opposition creates a tension you can almost touch. I believe this deeply reflects my inner state. It is precisely in this fragile balance between soft and hard, between holding on and letting go, that the soul and true vitality of the work reside.

Tent of Blades

The theme of the 2025 edition of the COMEL Award was “Aluminium, the Silent Strength.” In your work, the metal supports, connects, and structures, but does not impose itself visually. Do you identify with this idea of discreet yet resilient strength? What is your relationship with aluminium as an expressive material, and how does it dialogue with the overall meaning of the installation?

I strongly identify with the concept of “the strength of silence.” Aluminium is not a material that shouts or draws attention in an ostentatious way, yet it is there: it supports, unites, and gives shape to the entire work with a discreet but unshakeable force. And that is exactly what I wanted to express: unspoken emotions, small traumas, our quietest selves. These are things that don’t stand out, but work in the shadows, supporting us and shaping who we are. In this piece, aluminium is not the visual protagonist, but it is the essential skeleton; with its measured and quiet nature, combined with the blades, it completes the narrative of our “most secret interiority.”

You describe Tent of Blades as “a figurative representation of a psychological state,” in which the blades symbolize repressed emotions, traumas, and neglected parts of ourselves—small “whispers in space.” Can the reversal of meaning of an object that is normally protective also be read as a sign of psychological or social change? What would you like the audience to perceive or understand when observing the work?

Curtains are our shield against the world, while the blades represent the emotions we repress and the traumas we choose to ignore. Taking an everyday object that should make us feel safe and overturning it, making it dangerous, is for me a warning: repressing too much, hiding behind endless masks, eventually turns our own shield into an inner wound. This is not just a personal dynamic of mine, but a reflection of the alienation and façades so widespread in today’s society. My hope is that viewers do not stop at fear or curiosity, but see themselves in the work. Because that fragility and unease, concealed behind a reassuring and delicate appearance, are profoundly human and something we all share.

Tent of Blades (detail)

A curtain is something one passes through: it implies a choice, a gesture, an approach. Do you imagine the viewer as a distant observer, or as someone called to physically confront the work and the risk it suggests?

I absolutely do not want the audience to try to walk through the work. The danger is real and intentionally present: attempting to pass through it would be extremely risky. This boundary that cannot be crossed is a fundamental part of the piece. I invite people to come close enough to feel the tension and threat, but without touching anything. The danger here is not fake—you can truly sense it. And it is precisely this feeling of risk that forces the viewer to stop being just a spectator and to confront what they carry inside.

Your journey has taken you from China to Italy, from 2D and 3D animation to painting and installation. Has this crossing of languages and cultures changed your way of understanding boundaries, separation, and the very concept of space?

My journey from China to Italy, moving through 2D and 3D animation, painting, and finally installation, has completely changed my way of seeing “boundaries” and “space.” I used to think a boundary was only an obstacle, something meant to divide. Now I understand it is above all a place of encounter. Between different cultures, artistic techniques, our inner world and the outer one, or between public space and private emotions, there is never a clean cut. They are all transitional zones, alive and full of tension. Space, for me, is no longer just a backdrop—it has become part of the work itself, a true language for expressing what I carry inside. Living between different cultures and art forms pushes me to explore these blurred areas, those “in-between” spaces that have yet to be defined.

Tent of Blades (detail)

Looking to the future, do you feel the desire to further deepen the spatial and installation dimension of your work? Which themes or tensions do you feel are most urgent to explore today?

In the future, I want to continue exploring installation and spatial art. For me, the most urgent themes remain the same: the relationship between our inner world and the external one, and that subtle boundary where we live, always suspended between public and private. In an era increasingly focused on appearances, where we all feel a bit more alone and distant, I want to use art to reach those silent, fragile, and genuine human emotions. Because in the end, I believe that’s the true meaning of everything: being able to meet and truly know one another.