Blogger in Wheelchair Documents Difficulties of Life in Shanghai

On November 26, Shanghai-based blogger Zhao Hongcheng posted a video documenting her worst experiences of 2021 as a person who uses a wheelchair. The video soon went viral on Weibo, a Chinese microblogging platform, accumulating more than 4.2 million views at the time of writing.

“After you watch this video, you might understand better why people with disabilities don’t go out that much,” wrote the blogger as a caption for her video. “I made this video not just to complain. Instead, I hope to raise awareness so we can make more progress in the future.”

In the video, Zhao visits Tsutaya Books, the Monet & Impressionist Masterpieces exhibit, and a stand-up comedy show at ET Space.

While at Tsutaya Books in Shanghai, a Japanese bookstore that promotes a sophisticated lifestyle, she is told she cannot bring her wheelchair into the store.

“We were worried that she might hit something on the first floor. It’s for her own safety,” the store director explains, though the video later shows the first floor is spacious enough for people to walk around freely.

bookstore

The first floor of Tsutaya Books. Screengrab via Weibo

Her visit to the Monet & Impressionist Masterpieces exhibit held at a historical building in Shanghai doesn’t go smoothly, either, to say the least.

The blogger, who visits on the weekend, is told she cannot enter the exhibition because there are too many people. Shocked, her companion Xie Lipeng checks with the staff, only to be told that “There are too many people at the exhibit, and having a person who uses a wheelchair here will affect others’ experiences.” Yikes.

Ironically, the exhibit was selling discounted tickets to people with disabilities.

Monet & Impressionist Masterpieces exhibit

Blogger at the Monet & Impressionist Masterpieces exhibit. Screengrab via Weibo

The final story she shares is of a visit to ET Space for a stand-up comedy show. While at the venue, Zhao is told that if she wants to use the restroom, she will have to go with someone to ensure she doesn’t fall.

What’s worse, the theater does not have an elevator, meaning that to get to the second floor, someone would have to carry her. The staff, however, note that the venue’s policy prohibits them from helping because they could be held responsible if something happens.

ET Space

The blogger is carried to the second floor of ET Space by her companion. Screengrab via Weibo

While the blogger eventually accesses the venue in all three incidents, the video still highlights that people with disabilities have to navigate inaccessible venues and discriminatory policies in Shanghai.

Chinese netizens responded angrily to the video, with many criticizing the policies and empathizing with the blogger.

“In China, no matter how developed the cities are, there aren’t a lot of people with disabilities going out,” one netizen commented under the video, “I think these [the stories in the video] are probably the reason why.”

Another echoed, “I hope more people can see this video. We focus so much on infrastructure development, and we need to make sure we can better accommodate marginalized communities.”

In response to Zhao’s video, other people with disabilities also shared their frustrating experiences in China.

“As someone who uses a crutch, I was told I couldn’t use my crutch inside the Ningbo Museum of Art because it would damage the floor,” wrote one netizen.

At the end of her video, Zhao tells viewers, “To be honest, when I was not allowed to go into certain places, I also doubted myself sometimes. Why did I bother to come? But I was only trying to meet a friend, go on a date, visit beautiful places, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

And she’s right — there is nothing wrong with that at all.

Cover image: screengrab via Weibo

24/7 Livestream Makes Shanghai’s ‘Loneliest Tree’ Slightly Less Lonely

There is no shortage of bizarre livestreams on the internet, from the ‘bulbcam’ in California (a stream of the world’s oldest known lightbulb) to Alaska’s ‘brown bear cam.’ The ‘lonely tree cam,’ a 24-hour live video broadcast of Shanghai’s loneliest tree, was recently added to this unique club.

Shanghai Chenshan Botanical Garden launched the 24/7 live broadcast on November 17. The tree, located on a hill in the botanical garden, is reportedly a Catalpa speciosa — a species native to the midwestern United States.

The livestream is available online and features the solitary tree atop a grassy slope. The composition of the livestream shot leads one to believe that the tree is entirely alone on the hillside, although this is not the case: There are other trees on the hill, but the wide spacing between them creates the feeling of ‘loneliness.’

A Catalpa speciosa at the University of Idaho Arboretum and Botanical Garden

A Catalpa speciosa at the University of Idaho Arboretum and Botanical Garden. Image via Wikimedia

After coming across online chatter about the tree on Chinese social media, we decided to check out the livestream to see what all the hype is about. After watching a few minutes of the live footage today, we can see why people are so enthralled: The lone, leafless tree has a certain beauty in the cool autumn air, with the grassy ground low in the video’s frame and the big sky featured prominently.

According to a post from a news account on Weibo, a Chinese microblogging platform, “Because of how ‘lonely’ [the tree] is, it has become popular among Chinese netizens, and a lot of people have come to take pictures with it. On November 17, Chenshan Botanical Garden started a livestream for this lonely tree. Netizens can spend time with this tree online, and they can also leave messages for it.”

Lonely Tree Shanghai

Screengrab via Weibo

On Weibo, the hashtags ‘A tree in the park is famous for being lonely’ (#公园一个树因孤独感走红#) and ‘Botanical garden has a 24-hour livestream for a tree’ (#植物园24小时直播一棵树#) have 2.5 million and 1.6 million views, respectively. (With so much attention, we assume Shanghai’s loneliest tree is slightly less lonely.)

“I saw a quote today that said, ‘Freedom is when you are lonely but standing tall, and you are not afraid of anything.’ That [quote] reminds me of this tree,” wrote one Weibo user.

“The tree is not lonely; it is beautiful,” commented another netizen on the livestream.

In addition to joining the ranks of quirky online broadcasts, we hope Shanghai’s solitary Catalpa speciosa may one day be counted among such celebrity trees as California’s massive General Sherman, British Columbia’s famous Golden Spruce, and England’s ancient Ashbrittle Yew.

Cover image: screengrab via Shanghai Chenshan Botanical Garden’s livestream

Back from the Grave: Hong Kong Heavy Metal Returns with a Vengeance

On Halloween night, Hong Kong’s metal scene returned with a bang after two years of pandemic isolation, its hardcore fanbase gathering once again for an unholy Metal Masquerade.

“We are home, we are inclusive… we all bleed metal blood. This is Hong Kong!” proclaimed local legend Soni Yasaratne, owner of Infree Records and the night’s MC, as he officially kicked off a five-band séance of chaotic frequencies.

Fans at Metal Masquerade in Hong Kong on October 31

Fans at Metal Masquerade in Hong Kong on October 31

Hong Kong’s metal scene is unique in a local soundscape long occupied with Cantopop, indie rock and now hip hop. Cantopop — a hydra of dreamy ballads, love songs, and upbeat dance hits sung in Cantonese — dominates the Hong Kong charts, holding a firm 90% of the local Top 100 on streaming app KKBOX and 86% on Tencent’s JOOX. While hip hop continues to break into the mainstream, rock hits are confined mainly to soft indie and smooth pop selections.

Hong Kong metal emerged in the late 1990s and early 2000s, as pioneering bands such as Hyponic (1996), Evocation (2002), Cadaver (2003), and Shepherds the Weak (2005) injected a volatile blend of death, doom, and thrash metal mayhem into the city’s underground. In 2014, death metal outfit Evocation went further afield, putting Hong Kong on the global metal map after stunning crowds at Germany’s Wacken Open Air — one of the world’s premier metal festivals.

At home, however, the scene exists largely on the fringes in small venues and DIY spaces. With little support from major labels and society at large, it relies on its diverse array of bands and fans to keep the spirit alive.

In 2012, local bands formed the Hong Kong Metal Alliance (HKMA) to bring the community’s various styles together and amplify an underground movement often constrained to hidden corners of industrial buildings in Kowloon and the New Territories.

Fans at Metal Masquerade

The HKMA is a critical piece of the scene’s core and initially gained traction by building awareness of both established and rising acts. “There’s such an amazing sense of community and camaraderie behind the scene with HKMA … They have treated us with respect and supported us forever,” says Glenn Bogador, guitarist of veteran thrash act Shepherds the Weak.

Frederick Tsang, the drummer of newcomers The Ancient Mental, agrees: “We’re really thankful that the HKMA features us as performers. It is not only a huge inspiration for us but also for metal lovers in Hong Kong and shows that we are not alone.”

Lead singer Richie Peril and guitarist Glenn Bogador of Shepherds the Weak

Lead singer Richie Peril and guitarist Glenn Bogador of Shepherds the Weak

This fall, the alliance sought to inject new energy into a scene challenged by rolling waves of lockdowns. In a city already scarce on livehouses, two venues that served as homes for the community — This Town Needs in Kwun Tong and The Wanch in Wan Chai — shuttered in February and August 2020, while indefinitely closed borders led to cancelled tours.

Through it all, bands stayed active by releasing new albums and music videos while engaging fans in the digital space through livestreamed festivals and online playthroughs of their top songs.

With prohibitions on live music receding, the HKMA decided to revive the metal scene’s eclectic diversity of sound with the riotous Metal Masquerade. “We want that variety to kickstart the metal scene that has been put to a halt over the past few years,” says Jason Wan of the HKMA.

The Halloween show featured a mix of classic and rising bands — the Ancient Mental, Cadaver, Cryogenic Defilement, Protoss神族, and Shepherds the Weak — and exhibited styles that ranged from instrumental progressive metal to deathcore.

“The community has been very quiet,” Wan adds. “The inspiration of the theme ‘Metal Masquerade’ comes from the masks we all wear these days … With the pandemic, many organizers and venues have been forced to pause indefinitely. This is devastating to the metal scene, being a minority already. We hope to show that the Hong Kong metal scene is still alive, healthy, and strong.”

Protoss 神族

Protoss 神族

Despite setbacks, the scene holds an impenetrable resilience.

“Hong Kong has some of the most committed community members — all of the metalheads come out of the woodwork when a show is on,” says Bogador. “Some may disagree, but I think Hong Kong’s metal scene is thriving at the moment … The bands go all out, putting their craft at the forefront of who they are. The level of musicianship has evolved tremendously and will continue to grow.”

The Masquerade began with cascading symphonic waves from The Ancient Mental, formed in 2018 by four local metalcore veterans to create a new sound in Hong Kong.

The band is entirely instrumental, a positioning that drummer Frederick Tsang describes as “challenging to express ourselves without any lyrics, but really fun to attempt to define. We can focus more on our skills and the technical arrangement for each member. With instrumental music, listeners can make their own interpretations and engage more of their imagination.”

Lead guitarist Adam Aaron of The Ancient Mental

Lead guitarist Adam Aaron of The Ancient Mental

The Ancient Mental’s atmospheric frequencies, cymbal crashes, and high-pitched tremolo action gave way to the insanity of Cadaver, who stormed the stage donning matching orange jumpsuits and gleaming masks of surrealist Salvador Dalí.

The band, formed in 2003, specializes in death metal, with sounds of extreme distortion, evil riffs, and dark growls featuring throughout their set. Their breakout album — The Doppler Effect (2013) — expanded their reach beyond Hong Kong into the Chinese mainland, with a Mandarin-language release on Beijing-based label Mort Productions.

Cadaver

Cadaver

Darkness enveloped the audience with back-to-back costumed sets from Cryogenic Defilement and Protoss神族, whose demonic visions, slamming death metal, and primal screams whipped the roaring audience into a fierce storm.

Cryogenic Defilement was the night’s most riotous act, featuring brutal tracks off their 2018 album Worldwide Extermination while sending volleys of rounds from airsoft machine guns, rolls of toilet paper, massive inflatables and torn pillows into a roiling crowd.

Randy Leung of Protoss神族 shrouded in darkness

Randy Leung of Protoss神族 shrouded in darkness

Brutal death metal from Cryogenic Defilement

Brutal death metal from Cryogenic Defilement

At last, local thrash legends Shepherds the Weak closed out the Masquerade, unleashing tracks — including “The Path of Most Resistance” — that fueled a front-row mosh pit with fast-paced shredding and double-bass punches.

Lead singer Richie Peril and bassist Terence Salinas of Shepherds the Weak

Lead singer Richie Peril and bassist Terence Salinas of Shepherds the Weak

Formed in 2004, Shepherds the Weak is one of the oldest and most well-known bands in the scene. An all-Filipino outfit, most of its members come from the first wave of musicians who migrated to Hong Kong in search of greater opportunity.

“I have heard some refer to our style as Uncle Metal,” guitarist Bogador laughs. “When you play with the same guys for 20 years, you start sharing all the joys and pains of life together, [and] a name like Shepherds the Weak becomes a rallying cry.”

Headbangers

Headbanging devotees thrashed against the barrier as the final songs rang out. After four hours of nonstop electric destruction, the Masquerade came to a close with positive charges ripping through the air. Hundreds of fans streamed out of the sold-out arena, coming together once again to share beers, exchange stories, and kick back.

Headbangers

A revitalized energy is now buzzing in Hong Kong’s metal scene, with new music and performances on the horizon.

“We are sure fired up to get writing — I foresee new material coming out in early 2022,” said Bogador from Shepherds the Weak.

Speaking on the community, Randy Leung, vocalist of deathcore band Protoss神族, strikes a similar tone: “We can see the new blood of the metal scene. The underground will be bigger than in recent years — we are looking forward to more shows and the next generation of metal.”

“Music is what pulls people together, and live music is our church,” HKMA’s Jason Wan explains. “We hope this show will fire up the metal scene and make it more active. We want the fans to bring home with them that it will be even better than before. Covid didn’t kill us but made us stronger!”

All images courtesy of Joe Soriero

How “Street Dance of China” Strived for Global Unity

“The fusion of foreign and Chinese culture doesn’t take much; a guqin and two people will do.”

This statement was used by Mandopop singer Han Geng — one of four captains on Street Dance of China Season 4to introduce a duet between Chinese choreographer Ma Xiaolong and French hip hop dancer Zyko. While his team’s three-minute dance may have inspired it, it also perfectly describes the theme of the latest season of the popular street chance variety show, created by Chinese streaming site Youku.

At a time when global geopolitics is rife with conflict and division, Street Dance of China strived to create cross-cultural friendships in the most unlikely of ways — dance. This may sound like the plot from a cheesy movie from the 1980s, but when SDC opened its fourth season earlier this year (it first kicked off in 2018), the show debuted with a different twist — international dancers.

Dancing for Peace

The latest season of SDC invited top dancers from all over the world, including ACKY and the Gogo Brothers from Japan, Poppin’C from Switzerland, and Bouboo from France, to compete with Chinese dancers to “dance battle for peace,” as the recent season’s slogan states.

While the show carried on previous concepts like exciting dance battles and choreographed team dances, it also introduced a heartwarming element of cultural exchange between people who, instead of sharing a spoken language, communicate through body language.

ACKY

ACKY in Street Dance of China Season 4. Image via Weibo

Many of the foreign participants have said that their motivation for joining the show came from the fact that it was a rare opportunity to bring together such a legendary group of international dancers on the same stage. For example, MT-POP from Vietnam said he was excited to join the show to learn from legends like ACKY, and, in fact, many participants said they grew up watching ACKY’s videos.

However, amid the exciting portfolio of performances, just as powerfully prominent in the fourth season was the cultural exchange between national and international dancers that created a unique fusion of Chinese street dance.

Many Chinese participants were excited by the prospect of dancing with international dancers and decided to incorporate Chinese influences into their choreography, a style referred to on the show as Zhongguo Feng (which translates as ‘Chinese style’). Zhongguo Feng is a genre of Chinese music that emerged in the early 2000s, which fuses traditional Chinese musical styles with modern musical trends in its instrumental composition.

One standout example was Ma Xiaolong’s solo performance “Chess” in the qualifying rounds, which centered on a Chinese chess game with tai chi-inspired movements. Participant Gai Gai described the performance as “[Ma] infused culture into his choreography,” and it was this uniquely Chinese flavor that piqued the interest of many foreign dancers for whom it was their first time witnessing any Chinese dance.

For instance, France’s Rochka said he’d never seen Chinese-style dance before coming to the SDC stage. “That is my first time to really be in the [sic] Chinese culture, and I enjoyed that so much.”

An Endearing Fusion of Cultures

Many contestants this season chose to employ Zhongguo Feng themes in their performances, often with storylines highlighting the collaboration between Chinese and non-Chinese dancers.

“A Bite of China” from Captain Lay Zhang’s team, for instance, was choreographed by Chinese, Japanese, and Vietnamese dancers. The storyline centered on Chinese dancers Huang Xiao and Bboy George as ‘waiters’ introducing Chinese food to international teammates MT-POP, KENKEN, and Bunta.

MT-POP reflected on this, saying, “This time, it’s not only about dance … They teach me some things about Chinese culture.”

Street Dance of China

, KENKEN, and MT-POP performing together. Image via Weibo

And who knew that the popping style of dance that originated in California in the 1960s would integrate so seamlessly with Chinese dance?

Watching this fusion created something of a meta experience as we saw cultural exchange happening off-stage and on-stage.

We witnessed duets with Japanese popper ACKY playing a ‘sweeping monk’ alongside his Chinese’ disciple’ Ma; French hip hop dancer Zyko portrayed a student of the Chinese guqin; while Swiss popper Poppin’C explored Chinese movements through classical Italian aria “Lascia Ch’io Pianga.”

Beyond the Stage

Naturally, this fusion of Chinese dance and street dance was a team effort shaped by team-building activities both inside and outside the studio. ACKY stayed after-hours to write individual notes in Chinese characters for each of his teammates, for example, and a scroll in Chinese calligraphy for the captain of his team Han Geng at the conclusion of the show.

Han Geng during the most recent season of Street Dance of China

Han Geng during the most recent season of Street Dance of China, which concluded on October 30. Image via Weibo

Chinese dancer Bboy Keven, on the other hand, brought his teammates to try Sichuan hot pot for the first time. “The purpose of eating this is to explain to Boris and KENKEN the story about the Three Kingdoms in ancient China while eating hot pot,” he explained.

At the dinner table, Keven and his other Chinese teammates used their bowls and vegetables to represent the horses in the myth and wooden skewers as arrows from the rivals. Japanese choreographer KENKEN reflected, “I’m happy to have such a good chance to learn something about Chinese culture.”

Bboy Keven

Bboy Keven. Image via Weibo

Cultural exchange through food also occurred between the captains and dancers. In one episode of Let’s Chat, a more casual spinoff of Street Dance of China, Poppin’C joined the team captains to eat hot pot and brought tiramisu in exchange. “I want to share this with you because before, back in the day, I shared this with my family. It was made by my grandfather and grandmother,” he said.

For many international participants, SDC was like a second home, or family, away from home.

Outside of dance, the show also featured a talent show in episode seven, when Rochka brought his own French song to the stage, and captain Henry Lau sang Teresa Teng’s “The Moon Represents My Heart” with his team, featuring solos in Chinese by Rochka and Boris.

Henry Lau

Henry Lau. Image via Weibo

While participants were brought to the show for dance, it seems they’ve emerged with more than that. Rochka reflected on the friendships he cultivated during the show, saying, “Outside of practice, sometimes we have dinner together … This is priceless, you know, after work, we are together, and having food, laughing, talking about the day. This is really nice … I want to have more memories like this.”

Culture Passed Along

Evidently, this time around, SDC felt less like a competition and more like a global gathering.

“My purpose of being here this time is to share my vigor and courage … to communicate with others through the soul of dance. That, to me, is the most important part,” said ACKY.

At the end of Ma and Zyko’s duet, Ma handed the guqin to Zyko, who took the Chinese instrument as his own and strummed it with his recently-trained fingers. A concrete piece of culture was passed from a Chinese dancer to a foreign dancer; this student of Chinese culture eventually became a master.

Street Dance of China Season 4 is an uplifting series that debuted at a time when the world couldn’t be more divided. While this division remains, the show is a reminder of the power of unity; as French dancers learned how to play the guqin, Chinese dancers tasted tiramisu from a Swiss popper, and Japanese choreographers learned about Chinese myths with mala on their tongues.

The fourth season of “Street Dance of China” is available to stream on YouTube.

Cover image via Weibo

Popular Band Performs for Empty Stadium after Concert Cancellation

After two years of the Covid-19 pandemic, we’ll sadly admit we’ve begun to get used to concert cancellations. But two members of the Beijing-based band New Pants want to remind us how painful this reality should be.

On November 4, a video of Peng Lei and Zhao Meng from the renowned Chinese rock band was uploaded to social media, showing the duo singing in an empty stadium in Suzhou after their November 6 concert there was canceled.

In the background of the footage, which was filmed the same day it appeared online, viewers can see the stage being dismantled.

The original video was posted to Weibo — China’s answer to Twitter — by band leader Peng, and the footage moved netizens. More than 72,000 people had liked the video at the time of writing.

One netizen commented, “Although a concert is at most three hours long, for people like me who have ordinary jobs and lives, we live on the experience of rock concerts. Other than that, I’m like a walking dead, just trying to fulfill my social responsibilities. I hope that I can still see the musicians I love soon.”

The song Peng and Zhao perform in the video is “I Have Nothing Except You.” The track is perfect for a cancelled concert and empty stadium, with relevant lines such as, “We are so far apart, and I can’t see your face; We don’t have anything except each other,” and “I’ve waited only for a disappointing outcome, that’s when I sing only for you.”

New Pants was formed in Beijing in 1996 and is now one of the most popular bands in China, especially after winning the first season of the variety show The Big Band. Their songs question the meaning of life and mourn lost dreams and the insignificance of human beings.

Inspired by netizens’ responses, Peng released a new video of himself singing on Weibo three days after posting the original video.

Cover image via Weibo

Angie Isn’t Real, but Her 284k Fans Are

Digital Existence is a series where we explore how technology and the internet impact everyday people’s lives in China and beyond.

Angie is a sweet 18-year-old with rosy cheeks and a short dark hairdo she wears tucked behind her ears. When she’s not practicing the piano or the guitar, she spends her time distracted with daydreaming about her future.

“I think one day I can become a big star. I’ll perform and sing on stage so that more people can know me,” she says. “And I also hope to be in movies and animations.”

Just like the girl next door, Angie is effortlessly charming. She’s not what you would expect of a social media star but has already amassed hundreds of thousands of fans on Douyin, China’s version of TikTok. Not bad for someone who only joined social media less than a year ago — curiously, on the day she was born.

“I’m a digital person from another dimension,” Angie clarifies early on as we exchange emails for this article. “You can think of it as a parallel space-time universe,” she explains.

angie

Meet Angie, a “digital person from another dimension.” Image courtesy of Jesse Zhang

But Angie’s parallel universe is less cryptic than she makes it sound. It’s the virtual world, and Angie is a virtual influencer. Virtual influencers have been around for a few years now but have gained increased popularity during the pandemic in China and abroad.

Coming to Life

The process of how virtual influencers come to life (no pun intended), though complex, is not a mystery either. They’re usually created by teams of CGI designers, copywriters, and stylists. The process is similar to imagining a fictional character for a novel or a film and then illustrating it or animating it.

The difference is that virtual influencers interact with their audiences after they’re created, which means the teams behind them remain involved in a continuous creative process.

Another peculiarity is that, almost invariably, virtual influencers are admittedly aware of their essence and do not try to fool their audiences into believing they exist in the flesh.

To begin, that would be considered marketing fraud. But there’s also the fact that their virtual nature is their inherent allure. There’s always a layer of plasticity that manifests itself in virtual influencers. It’s a visual paradox: something artificial strives to look natural, yet it’s openly fake.

angie

Angie chowing down. Image courtesy of Jesse Zhang

Angie’s features are remarkable. Up close, we can see her face is mildly asymmetrical, just as a human being. Her facial lines, minor imperfections, and a slight skin glow often get praised on social media for being very lifelike.

But she also gets comments suggesting she should take better care of her skin and people wondering why she doesn’t get acne, like an average teenager. Her body type is not statuesque or slender. She’s more like an ordinary girl, with wide hips, which she may or may not try to hide wearing high-waisted shorts.

Still, Angie is cute, and precisely because of her imperfections.

Angie Rolleiflex camera

Angie cues up for a photo with a vintage Rolleiflex camera. Image courtesy of Jesse Zhang

In one shot, she appears looking down into a vintage Rolleiflex camera; in another, she rides a Vespa à la Audrey Hepburn in Roman Holiday.

“I love music, photography, movies, and old vintage cameras,” she says.

There’s an artsy sense of romance in everything she does, heightened by the ever-present classical piano playing in the background of her videos. But she’s not the glamorous type.

When Angie looks back at her audience, for instance, it’s like she’s looking at a mirror: She might get bored trying to fix her hair with rollers, or yawn unapologetically. In one instance, she cries. Just like that, you’re invited into her life — as a friend, not a follower.

Digital Brainchild

Angie is the brainchild of Jesse Zhang, a Shenzhen-based CGI animation director. He began developing her in 2019 as a personal project intending to create a likable character with a “fresh and healing image.” Such a concept permeated everything from ideation to the last details, like her appearance, clothing, and make-up.

“From the start, I wanted to create a virtual person who’s just like a real one. Angie’s imperfections give her more possibilities in life,” Zhang says.

angie digital influencer

Angie enjoying (digital) life. Image courtesy of Jesse Zhang

Zhang purposefully exaggerated some of Angie’s facial features to make her look a little more cartoonish and captivating, and also to make her unmistakably digital. Still, they’re just an outer layer. As he explains, the process starts from within — her, not him.

“To create a digital person, you need to think from the inside out. You define the character first, and then you shape her appearance, her figure, build her bones, and then design her facial expressions, hairstyle, and clothing,” Zhang tells us. “Her personality and appearance need to be integrated, and it’s all a constant process of polishing and thinking.”

So far, Angie’s style is casual, formed by essential pieces and occasional accessories, like a pair of rounded glasses, which, to some fans, make her look like a young tutor they had at some point in their lives.

Angie also appears in school uniform, wearing a pleated skirt and a tie as she sits to practice the piano. She says she’s still growing up and trying to break her shyness and express herself. We get the feeling that she’s not just developing her style but her very persona as a virtual being.

Digital Girls, Real World

Angie is not alone in her cyber existence: Other somewhat realistic virtual influencers also appeared in 2020.

Ling, for instance, arrived in May with her perfect porcelain skin and facial and body proportions. She’s often seen testing cosmetics in luxury stores or full Peking Opera outfits, posing for the camera.

Her style is also timeless, although more fashionable than Angie’s. She already starred in a Tesla campaign in which she threw herself over a Tesla’s hood theatrically, her face only inches from the brand’s shiny logo.

Virtual influencer Ling

Virtual influencer Ling with a “heroic and fierce” horse. Image via Weibo

Ayayi was born around the same time, and her face was made so beautiful that it’s a work of art in itself. She’s highly fashionable, with an edgy, urban-cool style. She acts like a fashion model, always posing in every picture.

If she weren’t so perfect-looking, Ayayi could easily be mistaken for an actual person. And that’s what she’s famous for, her hyper-realistic traits. (She’s also involved with Alibaba’s Singles’ Day metaverse project.)

https://www.instagram.com/p/CVcq5-GtJty/

And we also have Poka_Poka, the oldest of the bunch. She was created back in 2018 by the team behind fashion magazine voicer.me to be an intern, although she’s not very useful except for posing for their online lookbook.

She’s a true fashion faithful, with a quirky, sometimes punk-chic, style. But she hasn’t been posting much lately — perhaps she’s on a digital detox?

These girls are either fully digital, partially digital, or a hybrid. A juxtaposition of a digital face with a real person’s body allows for their world to overlap with ours — our commercial world, that is.

As such, they can wear whatever we would wear and do whatever we would do with more ease, which is good for business. All of them were born to model, intentionally designed to influence and sell. But not Angie.

“For the time being, there is not too much business thinking. And I will not think of her development only from a business perspective,” Zhang says. But that’s not to say they’re not open to collaborating with brands. Zhang plans to bring Angie into the real world by landing her a real body and perhaps engage in commercial works.

At the moment, her appeal is powerful with girls between 18 and 23 years old, but Zhang believes it’s more because of a psychological resonance than anything else.

Angie herself is pretty open to collaborations. But she wants to work with positive brands. She also wants to find a worthy cause to help humanity, although she doesn’t know what that would be yet.

Angie channeling her inner Cobain

Angie channeling her inner Cobain. Image courtesy of Jesse Zhang

It’ll be interesting to keep an eye on Angie to find out which direction her style will take, what brands she’ll end up collaborating with, and what cause will speak to her virtual heart.

Her first year of existence has been delightful. In a time when real influencers strive for perfection, live blatantly artificial lives, and are still continually applauded by hoards of followers, it’s certainly refreshing to see a virtual influencer who seeks to look and act like an actual human.

Cover image via Jesse Zhang