"Anime Gaze" Favorite 

A unique piece captured significant attention at the Central Academy of Fine Arts undergraduate graduation exhibition in June. The work featured an "anime-style" girl's skull linked to a human skeleton and internal organs, all encased within a thin film. As visitors entered the exhibit area, her breathing and gaze would alter accordingly. The thin film screen contracted as her chest rose and fell while her pupils flickered incessantly; this piece was aptly named "Anime Gaze". Videos of the exhibit posted on Bilibili quickly garnered substantial interest, with related video views now reaching the millions.
Some people said, "Finally, someone said something about it." They think anime's 'oppressive' nature attaches value to this project. Yet, many argue that anime is merely a form of digital amusement. Why should we extract elements from this medium for real-world criticism? Is it a ploy to stir up gender controversy for views and clicks?
After the controversy ended, we reached out to the artist Ju-chan. Our conversation revealed her inspirations behind this piece. It provided a glimpse into her journey as an anime consumer and scholar, dealing with questions and misconceptions while persistently advocating for female otaku fans.
The following are Ju-chan's own words.

01 A Storm As Long As Cat Urine
I didn't anticipate "Anime Gaze" sparking such intense debate. It's my final project, and all I could think about while setting up the exhibits over several nights was getting back to my dorm for a good night's sleep.
Initially, most of the feedback I got was offline. Everyone was friendly, though some were a bit freaked out. The most memorable reaction came from a mother and her daughter. After stepping into the interaction circle, the mother exclaimed, "It's disgusting! It gives me goosebumps!" My friend, her daughter, and I couldn't help but laugh at her reaction. It's interesting how my work can elicit strong emotional responses from people.
....
A few days later, an art blogger told me they had posted a video of my work on Douyin (Chinese TikTok). It seems interactive art is still quite novel to the public, as the video quickly gained significant attention. Even my family members have heard about it.
At that time, I noticed top comments like "the beloved will desperately generate blood and flesh" and "the anime girl crossed dimensions to meet me". Surprised by these interpretations, I shared screenshots with my friends. Little did I know, this was just the start of the storm!
The following day, the video was uploaded to Bilibili. I immediately became a target of intense trolling. They accused me of not being a genuine "otaku" but rather an opportunist exploiting otaku fans by stirring up gender conflicts and creating hype. They even suggested that I was just a poor-performing student trying to graduate by catching eyeballs in this manner...
This is the first time in my life that I have been caught in such a giant vortex, and I don't know how to deal with it for a moment. I tried to explain my thoughts, theories, background, and otaku identity in the comments section. I even messaged the video uploader in person, asking them to pin my comment at the top. But this only seemed to stir up controversy and put me in a cycle of defending myself, leading to more trolling.
I began receiving harassing DMs, with people scrutinizing my account age, investigating the streams I'd watched, and even searching for me on my school's public WeChat account. Some even threatened to damage my exhibits at the exhibition. Due to safety concerns, I avoided attending most of the latter half of the exhibition.
My friends were also worried about my mental state and helped report numerous abusive comments targeted at me every day. About a week after the exhibition ended, a friend found an article written by a notable influencer in the otaku community. She hesitated but at last told me about that. When I heard this news, all my suppressed frustrations peaked, and I couldn't hold back tears any longer. I burst out crying.

02 "I Feel an Immense Contradiction and Tearing Inside Me."
I consider myself an "old-school otaku."
As a child, I enjoyed watching shows like Saint Tail, Neon Genesis Evangelion (EVA), and Cardcaptor Sakura. By sixth grade, I became interested in the Touhou Project and Vocaloid. During junior high school, I became engrossed with galgames (interactive games featuring beautiful girls). My favorite characters were Rei Ayanami from EVA and Satori Komeiji from Touhou Project.
To engage with fellow anime fans, I started making fan art. It's fair to say that anime has significantly influenced my life path, inspiring me to practice drawing and ultimately pursue a career as an artist.
However, anime culture is not always positive for me. As a young, impressionable child without any sex education, I was exposed to numerous products catering to "strong male fantasies". Attracted "cute girls", I unknowingly absorbed a great deal of sexual content. I stumbled upon and read material involving women's abuse on an internet forum while only in fourth grade. To add complexity to this situation - biologically, I am female.
My early exposure led to a fetish for short-haired Loli characters. It made me realize that my sexuality was drawn towards certain aspects of fictional characters who could never return my affections. In the world of anime, where girls were represented with moi elements, I felt a stirring within me that differed from lesbian romantic fantasies. It's hard for me to pinpoint my place among minority groups, which causes significant distress.
During my university years, I shared a picture of myself wearing a JK skirt on social media. An old high school classmate, also an otaku, commented: "Uniform temptation, hso (so lewd)." His comment deeply offended me. It felt as if his casual gaze objectified me in an intrusive and unsettling way.
I knew exactly what he was doing because I would do the same thing. The moment I wore the JK uniform, its erotic implications within anime culture were amplified by viewers to such an extent that it eclipsed my identity. Suddenly, I wasn't his respectful "otaku classmate" anymore; instead, I became just another girl in a "JK skirt".
At that moment, I realized how these moi elements had lured me into his world of desire, where I felt strangely misplaced. Despite being a woman, I was trained to objectify other women. As a "victim," I was also molded to be the "perpetrator," finding pleasure in hurtful behaviors.
Since then, I have never worn a schoolgirl skirt again.
However, there are still too many symbols like "JK skirts" in otaku culture. People who consume and get used to these symbols aren't born accepting them; they acquire them through conditioning and training like Pavlov's dogs or cage-returning pleasure response mechanism.
But for me, deriving pleasure from such symbolism is highly paradoxical. I find myself both the offender and the victim, internally conflicted and unable to enjoy anime culture in peace. I believe female otakus of our era all wrestle with this dilemma to varying degrees based on their consciousness. This sentiment has haunted me for ages, shadowing my every step toward maturity.
This feeling of being torn apart fuels my creativity, transforming it into a unique art expression. It's a powerful emotional pivot that sustained me during six months of graduation project development, leading to the creation of "Anime Gaze".

03 Accidental Contemporary Art
My primary research interest lies in postmodern body theory and body art, with no particular focus on the "male gaze". I'm more interested in the interplay between the body and power, as well as applying body theory to otaku culture studies.
In middle school, after reading Engels' "The Origin of Family, Private Property and State", I began to reflect on the societal roles fathers play in families and marriages. This got me into various feminist theories.
"Body" has always been an important area of study within feminism. Being biologically female, it's only natural that my artwork reflects a female perspective. However, it wasn't until I received criticism that I recognized my work could be perceived as a feminist project.
Initially, I planned to create two proportionate female dolls entwined in plastic bags with a suggestive undertone. As an avid Yuri fan, my first exposure to erotic anime was through Yuri content. However, it's more accurate to say this content caters to heterosexual male fans rather than true Yuri enthusiasts, as it typically involves two females and one male character.
After my mentor approved the design and I completed the model, I sought to print it at a 3D factory in Hangzhou. However, the estimated cost was an exorbitant forty-nine thousand Chinese yuan for printing! Realizing this was beyond our budget, I decided to reconsider the plan. It was already April; time was of the essence. Then it struck me: did I need a whole body? Half-bodies would probably suffice. Contemporary art/body art often embraces fragmented limbs, after all. Moreover, creating entire bodies could easily lead us into visually vulgar and aesthetically pleasing territory.
I don't want this piece to veer into the realm of the "pornographic". So, I've merged actual human elements like skeletons and internal organs, which are typically unseen, with ni-jigen symbols to create a visually unusual effect. For the skull section, I incorporated features such as air-intake hairstyles and square eyes from earlier ni-jigen animations that defy today's "low-aggression" drawing styles. The artwork and images adorning her neck are fan sketches drawn specifically for this image by my senior @盳孑阈熄. This is intended to add a layer of simulacra to the work.
Regarding the interaction, the initial design only involved modifications to pupils and video devices. Thus, she wasn't originally designed to "breathe". This feature emerged after the 3D-printed model was mishandled during delivery due to careless packaging. When I received it, the spine had broken entirely off.
I was devastated at that moment. My first instinct was to contact the delivery service about it. However, as I'm uncomfortable with conflicts, I considered fixing it myself or using glue as a last resort. During this process, I discovered that if her spine were broken, she could move instead - all it needed was threading a steel wire through and pulling once more for her to mimic breathing; this also added visual impact. Excited about this potential value, I exclaimed, "This is great!".
Then, I wrapped her up with a thin plastic film, which contracted and expanded to give the model a "breathing" effect. This feature was well-received by many exhibition visitors. Whenever I recount this incident to friends, I often say: "I'm truly grateful for the delivery service; contemporary art indeed thrives on unpredictability."

04 The Non-accidental Us
The exhibition ran from June 7 to June 20. Surely, you've heard about what happened in between. My friends humorously remarked, "It felt like you were scolded in a different place every day." Yet, the chaos only lasted around ten days before it died down. Folks online only dwell on things for a short time.
It took a good cry to have the courage to read the article about me, penned by an otaku community influencer. Initially, I was hesitant, fearing they might use sincere or academic language to challenge my knowledge or artistic approach. But after calming myself down, I felt it necessary to confront their words head-on. To my surprise, there was little depth; their views were shallow and trivial. It appears that my overthinking and misplaced reverence caused my earlier anxiety.
This experience also illustrated the difficulties of broaching these subjects within the otaku community. It was disheartening to consider that many trollers could have been friends from forums like Tieba or Bilibili, where we identified as fellow otakus in anime discussions. Yet, a hint of female "subjectivity" could incite an uproar among them. This incident revealed that our perceived camaraderie within the otaku community may have been a facade.
On a different note, I received immense support from many of you - thank you! During the harshest criticisms, an unknown girl sent me two hundred yuan. How sweet! Newton's fourth law must have suggested that the world can't spin without women. Despite accusations of seeking attention and a quick profit, this two hundred yuan was the only "easy money" I earned throughout the entire time.
Perhaps I held my ground due to the lack of conversation or research in this area in China. Reflecting, I was on the brink of collapse then, yet I felt obligated to conceal my struggle. Even though they wouldn't comprehend, I persisted in reaching out to them. My words were intended for those who are just like me, not for them. If I had surrendered, others aspiring to make feminist projects might have been disheartened by how easily a flood of negative feedback can mute one. Would their courage to create wane? As long as I'm standing strong here now, my message should be "I am not afraid", not as a rebellion against them but as an inspiration for others like me.
In retrospect, this incident is a significant turning point in my personal development. Initially, the graduation project was simply a product of my private experiences. However, I never anticipated the attention it would garner; it feels like I've taken more considerable strides than expected and achieved something greater. As for my future aspirations, keep reading, practicing, and interacting; navigate through life by creating; find a uniquely mine position.

*Yuri otaku is a term used pejoratively to describe those who perceive everyone as lesbians or self-deprecatingly among fans who enjoy lesbian-themed content.