Ada Zejun Shen
- Anna Lilli Garai
- Sep 26
- 4 min read
Ada Zejun Shen is a New York-based illustrator and interdisciplinary artist. Her work brings together references from science, mythology and ecology, often through detailed pencil drawings and digital compositions. She explores ideas around biology, storytelling and the systems we use to make sense of the world. In works like "Viral Placenta" and "Microbiome of Death", she connects research with visual form, building images that feel both thoughtful and quietly strange.
Q: You work where science and art meet. What excites you most about turning research into images?
A: To put it simply, visualization is profoundly important to me! The process of turning a piece of information, dense or apparent, into an image is intrinsically satisfying. It traces back to how I know the world. I’ve always learned through visuals; even as a child, I would understand concepts by drawing them out or playing them out in my head. Once I can visualize something, my understanding feels complete. This understanding often precedes language and words. The popular statement, "The limits of my language are the limits of my world,” holds some truth, but I believe in the power of images to transcend even further, to create worlds of their own.
They engage and communicate tirelessly, as long as attention is given by another eye. This is why I chose to be an illustrator and am dedicated to making images that contain layered meanings.
Q: You describe symbols as “capsules of stories and information.” How do you know when you’ve found the right one for a piece?
A: It involves constantly being curious about old and new knowledge and, with a bit of luck in active seeking, finding those moments where stars align, where one thing serves as a perfect allegory for another. After all, the world is filled with symbols, if one chooses to see it that way! Over time, I’ve trained myself to see things through this lens of connection rather than isolation.
Nothing comes from nowhere; history repeats itself, stories replay, stars orbit, matter unbecomes and becomes. In this world of infinite shapeshifting, knowing and appreciating the meaning of symbols, and transposing them into new contexts, gives me great joy. Even more so when I can use visuals to share that connection with others.
Q: In "Viral Placenta" you link biology and myth. What drew you to that subject?
A: Yes! In "Viral Placenta," I included the Orphic egg as an emblem in the upper left, overlooking another emblem of a fetus in utero. The Orphic egg, or cosmic egg, is a pan-cultural symbol; a similar tale is shared by many civilizations. In Orphic cosmology, Phanes hatches from the egg and creates the other gods. Archetypically, the egg hatches into the heavens and/or earth, where life is nourished and given the chance to flourish. I placed it compositionally across from the human gestation and in a framing, non-central place to serve a secondary message. Beyond addressing the evolutionary connection of internal gestation with viral gene transfer, I wanted to highlight how the societal meaning of pregnancy has been deified, while its risks and dangers to the maternal body have been neglected, or at least, not universally recognized and protected. This puts motherhood on a pedestal of wonderful generative power, but the flesh-and-blood reality stands in stark contrast to any mythological creation tale. Moreover, the Orphic egg itself, a symbol of a snake encircling an egg, provides another contrast, echoing the fundamental evolutionary dichotomy of oviparity and viviparity (egg-laying vs. live-bearing), and the viral origin of key proteins that form the uterus, which are highlighted in the articles I referenced for this project.
Q: "Microbiome of Death" dives into life after life on a microscopic scale. What perspective did making it give you?
A: Death and decay at the microbial level form such a complex system, just knowing a fraction of it is humbling. Moreover, I love the phrasing “life after life”; I think it says a lot already! I wrote in the project's description: “Every decomposition is a wild microscopic event. The body becomes landscape, hunting field, playground.” Learning about this topic is like hearing a million small voices murmuring, “don’t take yourself too human and too seriously.” In life and in death, the body we inhabit is not just a pristine vessel for the self. Knowing this, I take greater pleasure in valuing my unique experience as a human in my limited time, and in the unlimited sense of connection I am capable of making.
Q: Your process mixes pencil, digital work, and printmaking influences. How does that mix change the feel of your images?
A: I really enjoy analogue textures and the tactile feel, while also recognizing that digital manipulation provides flexibility and solutions.
Printmaking helped me find the balance. During 2021–23, my first two years in New York, I immersed myself in risograph and silkscreen printing. These processes involve both digital skills and analogue production, and they have changed the way I consider and produce images. I began focusing on thinking in terms of shape, layering, planes, paper, and textures. When I started using pencils more heavily, I transitioned these skills into my traditional work. I am still seeking a balance between a complex analogue look and clean, digital precision.
Q: You often blur biology with imagination. What do you enjoy most about that crossing point?
A: For me, imagination is simply how we draw connections and understand concepts; it’s a mental play integral to every moment of life. In biology, we often deal with invisible or internal processes that are nonetheless very real, tactile, and close to us. Things not fully perceived demand imagination to make sense or become familiar, which is why I use it to translate information or retell stories. This is also related to how I think about the capacity and limitations of our perception (vision itself is a recurring topic in my work). Imagination is a way for me to expand on our limited sensations, whether in a serious or playful manner. Its fluidity and ambiguity are appealing to me, since I am more interested in multi-layered imagery with room for all levels of interpretation, rather than a single condescending truth. I enjoy this active crossing between the two realms because I believe there is no solid boundary.
