Yutong Liu draws from life. Not life as backdrop, but life as the actual material — the lawns of London in summer, clothes hanging from iron poles outside Shanghai apartments, strangers on the tube, people smiling at a screen in a gallery. Born in China and trained in the UK, Yutong moves between London and Shanghai, and both cities have left visible marks on her illustration and animation practice.
What drives her is something quieter than ambition. She wants to make people smile for a moment. To bring warmth into spaces filled with pressure. Her personal animation ME & Me — pencil-textured, light-hearted, award-winning — crystalised this: she watched an audience laugh knowingly at her work in a gallery, and that was it. The philosophy that guides her practice, "with eyes wide open and heart unveiled," isn't a tagline. It's how she actually works — observing, recording, injecting emotion before the image is made. The result is illustration that feels gentle and considered, never decorative.
Can you tell us a little about your first few steps in your career. Was there a moment or experience when you realised this was what you'd do as a career?
Of course. I’ve loved drawing since I was a child (a lot of illustrators are like that, haha), but in the beginning, it was just aimless—purely enjoying the process of drawing. Later, I had the opportunity to study illustration in the UK, and that's when I began to realise that illustration could convey so much more—emotions, insights, and more. Through colours and the flow of lines, it can touch others. Illustration is not just about documenting life; it can also do something different for the surrounding community—advocating, calling attention, comforting, and so on. It can accompany people in a softer but more profound way, directly touching their hearts.
So, I started thinking about the deeper meaning behind my work. Although I still approach it from a personal perspective, I encourage myself to create fun pieces that give people a sense of power and relaxation after seeing them. That’s why I created my personal animation, ME & Me. Besides winning me many international awards, the most important thing was when I exhibited it in a gallery. I noticed that after watching the animation, people would smile knowingly—they were amused. I thought, in a society with so much pressure, if I can bring a little bit of happiness and make people smile for a moment, then I’ve achieved my goal. And it was at that moment, when I saw them smile, that I knew—I would continue. This is what I want to do: bring more joy and warmth to people.
What lessons from your career have most shaped your style and approach?
I think ME & Me has been the most influential. The light-hearted theme and the pencil texture were really enjoyable for me to create; it was a relaxed process, and I worked quickly. I’m good at creating these kinds of visuals and textures. However, this project wasn’t smooth sailing at the beginning. I went through a period of stagnation, and I gathered references and pathways for revisions from various sources—data collection, art exhibitions, self-reflection, and feedback. This process to some extent shaped my creative workflow, making my work more structured and meaningful. Once I established this workflow, I used it as a reference for future projects, which made the creative atmosphere flow more smoothly, allowing me to immerse myself in it.
Additionally, this animation earned me many international awards, which boosted my confidence in my career and showed me the potential for developing this style further. As a result, I’ve continued to create more dynamic illustrations in a similar style.
Tell us about the core values or philosophies that guide your creative practice.
My creative philosophy is: With eyes wide open and heart unveiled—feel life, record its pulse, and embrace its wild beauty. Most of my inspiration comes from life itself. I love observing, experiencing, and recording the world around me. I’ve always believed that in order to create work that touches others, I first need to inject emotions and thoughts into it. Only when the visuals carry these elements can others sense the subtle flow of emotions and ideas when they view it.
Therefore, I need to immerse myself in my own life and observe the world around me. This way, I can generate ideas, express them through my brushstrokes, and make myself or the people within my themes seen. I have always been committed to creating visuals that are gentle yet powerful—not sharp enough to hurt, but capable of stirring thought. I also strive to use visual means to make difficult-to-understand ideas more accessible and relatable to a wider audience.
What needs to change, so emerging and under-represented creative professionals have more opportunity, are seen and heard?
I think one key issue is how creative professionals are selected by magazines and agencies. Because they’re often busy and prioritise efficiency, portfolios are sometimes only skimmed, and decisions are largely based on visual style (Of course, The Design Kids were happy to stay for me. Thank you all.). This means there is a tendency to favour what is currently trendy.
However, some artists specialise in translating ideas and narratives into visual language in more subtle ways—work that requires context or explanation, and isn’t immediately obvious at a glance. As a result, they may be overlooked simply because their style isn’t the most fashionable.
What I hope to see is that creative institutions offer more space for dialogue—opportunities for us to express our thinking, and for them to listen to and respect our creative processes, including how our work can function within a market context. I’ve often been rejected because my work was seen as “too artistic” and not commercial enough. But when I’ve worked with agencies that were open to my approach, I found that my ideas could actually be applied in many commercial contexts—sometimes even bringing in possibilities they hadn’t considered before.
At the same time, creative professionals also need to step outside and engage with the world. Connecting with people and society creates more opportunities for us to be seen and heard.
How important is it that creative professionals find their unique voice?
In my own development, I’ve realised that finding a unique voice is extremely important. I used to think it was impressive to have many different styles—it felt like a sign of versatility. But over time, I understood that having a distinct voice is like concentrating your energy in one direction. It makes your work more direct, powerful, and memorable.
When creative professionals have a clear voice, they also become more compelling when they talk about their work. There’s a kind of authenticity and inner strength that draws people in, making it easier for audiences to enter their creative world. This is something I recently felt strongly after listening to another artist share their experience.
Looking ahead, what do you think are the key factors that will influence change for creative professionals?
Broadly speaking, the larger social and economic environment plays a significant role in shaping creative careers. If the environment does not encourage creativity, it can seriously limit opportunities—fewer platforms, smaller audiences, and less recognition. If society does not value aesthetic education or cultural development, then naturally there will be less interest in whether creative work is innovative or meaningful.
On the other hand, creatives also need to make a living. During economic downturns, when people are less able to pay for art, many creators may be forced to abandon their practice in order to survive.
Another major factor is technology—especially the rapid development of AI. This has already had a profound impact on creative industries. Some creatives are choosing to collaborate with AI, while others are leaving the field altogether. So I believe both societal conditions and technological advancements will continue to shape creative careers in the future.
How much does your city influence your work?
I’m someone who immerses myself in everyday life to find inspiration, so the city I live in has a huge influence on my work. My practice is deeply connected to my surroundings.
I often move between London and Shanghai. For example, some of my previous work reflects my thoughts and experiences of living in London, and recently I’ve been creating a small animation inspired by the London Underground. In Shanghai, I sometimes observe residential buildings and imagine stories—like clothes hanging from iron poles extending out of windows, which makes me wonder about the lives and stories of the people who live there.
Both cities also offer rich artistic environments, with many exhibitions that I love to visit. Each city has its own unique artistic sensibility, and that inevitably shapes my perspective. In this way, the city influences my work through countless small details.
How much does your culture influence your work?
I didn’t fully realise how much my cultural background influenced my work until an exhibition I had in London, where one of my watercolour paintings (Blue Echoes on my website) was on display. The viewers spent some time observing it and then told me they could tell where I was from and why—and they were right.
That moment made me realise that culture has been shaping me since birth. It forms the way I think, and even if I’m not consciously expressing it, it becomes part of my work naturally. Because my work is an extension of my thoughts, traces of my cultural background will always be present—and those who share or understand that culture can often recognise it.
Tell us some of your favourite, creative professionals and inspiring places in your city!
It’s actually quite hard for me to name specific creative professionals, because my inspirations are always changing. There are so many people whose work I admire, and it really depends on the moment.
But in terms of places, I absolutely love the big lawns in London during the summer. After the long winter, everyone comes out and spreads across the grass—chatting, picnicking, dating, running, playing, reading. Each group is doing something different, and just observing them makes me feel the richness and beauty of life.
It gives me so much inspiration. And when I’m brave enough to join in and talk to people, I gain even more. People are usually very open and welcoming, even when I approach them unexpectedly.
What should emerging creative professionals keep in mind as they begin their design career?
"Always remember why you started. Go out into the world, but along the way, there will be a lot of noise that can confuse you. That’s okay—just be yourself, and become who you are meant to be. When you stand firmly in the world as yourself, the right people will find you and see you."
There have been times when I felt overwhelmed by external pressures, and in order to make a living, I tried to cater too much to others’ expectations. In doing so, I sometimes lost sight of what I truly wanted to create. But fortunately, I’ve met kind people along the way who helped guide me back.
And one more thing: step outside and experience real life. Meet real people. If you stay at home and rely only on online references, your work can lose a certain emotional depth. Lived experience brings something irreplaceable to creative work.