While the Feminist Hunting Dogs keep marching on their crusade, they may discover that they are left alone, howling in the wilderness. In the bleak future of feminism, women in China find themselves trapped between the utility of womanhood, in the monolith of beauty, and in the struggle to break free.

Vines wind around classical sculptures. Leaves shimmer in balmy sunlight. Surrounded by “Save the Garden” signs, he looks a bit like the lion head on ESG’s logo, whose mane flows into leaves.

Huang wears a bob with short bangs, black-rimmed glasses, and dresses with mismatched buttons and circles of wrinkles, a nod to her artistic identity. “In the art world, art has become a mask for business,” she said. “I want to use business as a mask for real art.”

Beef’s intermittent genre changes create an eerily decorated Christmas tree, colorful but nothing merry.

Identity is a curved mirror—a projection of not reality, but self-perception. If we ever aim to look beyond skin colors, the least step we can take now is to recognize the nuanced differences within each reductive, overgeneralized, racially descriptive term.

I don’t know if the Cool Girl phase will ever pass. I don’t know if humans can ever stop pretending, and if we could, whether or not it would be a good thing. What I do know, however, is that letting out a scream because your situationship ghosted you, or shedding a tear or five about your ex that you’re still not over, is healthy—even if it’s not cool.

History of Art @Yale: Humbugs and Visionaries

Exploring the intersection between art and science.