Looking at Skye Liuke Wang’s Between the Lines photography series, I kept having to stop myself from rushing past the images. They demand slowness, or at least they made me slow down.
Nothing in these images demands attention outright, no dramatic angles or bold colours, yet somehow the city speaks, if you pay attention. And it’s in those pauses that I saw Shanghai differently, through Skye’s eyes. Once the high-rises and spectacle fall away, the city feels more lived-in and present.
Skye’s background quietly shapes everything she does. Skye grew up in the Dabie Mountains, which is a quiet, remote part of central China. Life there moved slowly, at its own pace, and it really felt completely different from the crowded streets and towering buildings she would later live with. When she moved to the UK, she kept working across photography, literature and curation, all the creative practices she had been exploring back in China. She took on all sorts of projects that let her start seeing things from different angles, moving between cultures, cities, ways of seeing. Then she returned briefly to Shanghai, and it hit her how the city could feel familiar and strange at the same time. The skyline she had imagined as a child was still there, but tucked between it were hidden streets and old alleys; it’s the kind of place that seems somehow to have survived the rush of modern life. They are, in a way, forgotten, but still alive, full of human details, little gestures that give the city its own heartbeat amid all the city’s big towers and neon. There’s a delicacy to the way she observes human gestures. Through this cross-cultural perspective, her work captures life as it unfolds, unscripted, yet full of subtle meaning.
I found that Skye’s series Between the Lines doesn’t linger on the obvious spectacle of Shanghai, none of the luxury shops or towering skyscrapers call for attention. What stayed with me and intrigued me were the quieter moments, such as the laundry suspended between buildings, narrow alleys tucked out of sight, and the small, everyday details the city carries on around itself while most people barely notice.
A Passage Under Compression, Between the Lines series
Part of the Between the Lines series is A Passage Under Compression. It shows a narrow alley stretching forward, pressed between old buildings and taller, more modern ones behind. People are walking there, but it’s almost incidental; they look peaceful. The alley seems sunny and cosy. These small figures are caught in the city’s vertical ambition. I imagined what it would feel like to live there, to be in that environment quite permanently; you are squeezed in, yet surrounded by such height. It’s like a separate small world within the modern city, almost claustrophobic, yet in a way that makes you notice the little things, and perhaps feel quietly safe in those small spaces.
Domestic Life, Suspended, Between the Lines series
In Domestic Life, Suspended, a lady is seen hanging laundry above the old alley; the scene at first would look rather understated and ordinary, yet through Skye’s lens it feels tender and warm. Looking at this, I thought about how domestic routines persist quietly, even when the space is tight, or life feels pressured; everyone is going through it in different places and in various ways. These are small, very human gestures, washing hung out to dry, a very daily and human thing that we all do, but captured by her in a way that made me notice them, really notice them. It’s something you don’t usually see in photographs, capturing the big modern city of Shanghai. The expression also struck me on the woman hanging the laundry. She looks tired, maybe worn down by life, yet she keeps going, quietly carrying on.
Interior, Observed, Between the Lines series
Interior, Observed is also quite intriguing. Here, Skye invites us to peek into someone’s everyday life. Shadows and reflections blur inside and out, past and present, with historical imagery hanging on the wall, personal and historical. It makes you think about the people there, their mornings, their daily routines, and the objects they come into contact with every day. It’s intimate but not intrusive, which I think is sometimes hard to achieve in photography. Skye lets the scene breathe. The plants also lent the image life.
Unsent Messages, Between the Lines Series
The series includes other beautiful pieces, such as Everyday Infrastructure and Unsent Messages, which are almost meditative. Meters, pipes, worn utility basins, these things we usually walk past without a second thought, are suddenly captured in quite a meaningful way. And the wall-mounted mailbox, surrounded by old, faded writing… and some rubbish is stacked inside. It makes you imagine that once someone was eagerly waiting for letters and checking this mailbox maybe quite often, waiting for good news, or bad. Now, it’s just history, and the rubbish inside also gives a hint of irony. The image is full of unanswered communication, intentions never delivered. I found myself wondering about the people who left those traces, what they meant, what they hoped for.
Skye’s technique matters here, too. She used film, nothing fancy, but rather perfect for the approach. There’s a spontaneity and texture that digital photography can’t quite capture, especially for this series, a nostalgic feeling yet so much life. These images feel immediate, even accidental, but they’re clearly guided by someone who’s paying attention; they are little ordinary moments in life within a big modern city, captured by Skye, who sees beauty in the details. There’s patience and plan in the framing, in the light, in the very act of noticing. The beauty in her work is that it doesn’t shout, it whispers, or even hums; it’s a subtle but comforting feeling you get from it. And if you listen, really see, you will start to notice the city differently. The overlooked becomes exposed and exaggerated. Between the Lines is, I think, about memory, dislocation, and the contradictions of modern life, but it’s also about paying attention to noticing what slips past in the rush.
I left looking at these photographs with a strange quietness, a sense of stillness, and I realised that I became a little more aware of the spaces around me, the traces people leave, the life that persists even under pressure; we are all visitors on this journey after all, like all the people in Skye’s photographs. I believe that’s instead a rare talent in photography, in that it makes you feel things, without showing off, without explaining too much, or at all, without insisting, in a way. And that, to me, is Skye Liuke Wang’s unique strength as an artist photographer.
Skye Liuke Wang
More information on Skye Liuke Wang’s work may be found on her website: https://skye-wang.com
