In late 2024, we launched the More-than-Human Fellowships—a research grant supporting four practice-based researchers exploring more-than-human design. This emerging approach recognizes the deep interdependence between humans, other species and ecosystems. Rather than simply minimizing environmental harm, it actively restores landscapes, nurtures biodiversity, and fosters regenerative ways of living and designing.
Feifei Zhou shares her research progress in this article as she develops and tests the final piece. Her work, along with that of the other fellows, will be showcased in the More-than-Human exhibition at the Design Museum, opening in July 2025.
"The Coast is not a Line, It’s a Zone" began with a field research trip in July 2024. This month-long journey spanned multiple coastal regions across Indonesia, Singapore, and Malaysia as part of my ongoing collaborative project, "Fragmented Porosities," with social scientists from the Centre for Southeast Asia Coastal Studies (SEACoast) at the University of California, Santa Cruz, led by anthropologists Anna Tsing and Megan Thomas. The project explores the shifting coastal dynamics of Southeast Asia, particularly the intensifying industrialisation of coastal ecologies and vernacular architecture. These regions—rich in ecological, social, and cultural diversity—are undergoing profound transformations, and we seek to understand how these industrial shifts impact their legacies.
At each stop, I met with a SEACoast member conducting their own fieldwork at their respective research sites.
Initially, my vision for the More-than-Human exhibition was to present a collection of three mapping studies, each illustrating a different research site and its respective coastal more-than-human dynamics. Reflecting the theme of our research project, "Fragmented Porosities," my goal was to draw parallels between anthropocentric shifts in land-sea interactions—by critically examining different forms of porosity at the coastal interface—within sites that have undergone distinct environmental, social, and cultural shifts, both historically and in the present.
However, as the exhibition design evolved, it became increasingly clear that focusing on a single research site would allow for a deeper, more nuanced exploration of geopolitical and environmental complexities. This shift not only enables a more thorough unpacking of local conditions but also ensures stronger engagement with audiences in London and the UK.
Southeast Asia is often perceived by British and European audiences as a tourist destination, yet the environmental and social realities, especially in remote, non-touristic areas undergoing rapid industrial transformation, remain largely unfamiliar. By centering the exhibition on one site, I can offer a more immersive, in-depth narrative that highlights the intricate relationships between human and nonhuman actors through creative, multimedia emphasis.
While my work is deeply rooted in local specificity, the themes it explores—the disappearance of vernacular fishing techniques, the loss of native wetland ecologies, overfishing, coastal mining, and the impacts of industrial expansion—are globally resonant. These are not isolated issues but shared struggles faced by communities across the world.
Kupang Bay in West Timor, Indonesia, was the first stop on my month-long field research. My collaborator, anthropologist Gillian Bogart, has spent years conducting fieldwork in the region, building deep relationships with the local community. Through her, I was introduced to Pa Paul, Ma Uli, and others from the fishing village of O’lio, where I stayed for two nights.
One of the most transformative experiences was joining the villagers on a fishing trip. We set out from their home on motorbikes, traveling across artisanal salt-mining fields—where the ground was too soft for bikes to continue, before wading through dense, muddy mangrove swamps and finally boarding a boat to sea. Along the way, we passed a variety of vernacular and commercial fishing traps, each reflecting distinct ecological and cultural fishing practices at various coastal conditions. We eventually reached a narrow beach, where we fished and caught shrimp. I learned from Gillian and the villagers that commercial salt mining nearby has caused severe coastal erosion, dramatically reducing the beach’s size over time. This firsthand experience profoundly inspired the creation of my artwork that explores the idea of the coast as a fluctuating zone rather than a fixed line.
Physically navigating these landscapes was a critical part of my research. As someone accustomed to urban environments, moving through the thick, sticky mudflats, carefully avoiding sharp mangrove roots, was both a challenge and an insight. While I struggled to take even a few steps forward, my friends from O’lio moved with ease, guiding me step by step—or, at times, quite literally pulling me out of a sinking bog. This experience revealed to me that an act of care for a landscape that cannot be learned through distant study but through the embodied act of navigating a place or learning how to do so.
Care is a central theme of this work. Throughout my time in Kupang, I was welcomed with extraordinary hospitality, humor, and generosity. Despite language barriers, the community embraced me with kindness and openness and made my trip not only inspiring but fun and fulfilling.
During a late-night conversation with Pa Paul, Ma Uli, Ma Yuli, and Pa Yamles, I asked whether they wanted to preserve sero, their traditional fishing method. Their answer was an affirmative yes. This response inspired my ambition to extend my artwork beyond documentation and toward practical intervention and advocacy.
Currently, Gillian and I are actively exploring ways to organize a workshop bringing together sero practitioners and makers from various coastal regions across Indonesia. This initiative aims to facilitate knowledge exchange and sustain these vernacular infrastructures—practices deeply embedded in local ecologies yet increasingly threatened by industrial expansion. The workshop will serve as both a preservation and educational initiative
We are seeking funding opportunities to support this effort and would greatly appreciate any avenues for collaboration.
