Collective Gallery, St Albans

10–16 August 2026
Collective Gallery, St Albans

In Urban Skeleton, Yuange Sheng approaches the contemporary city not as a stable architectural environment, but as a body under continuous pressure. Structures bend, materials migrate from one purpose to another, and familiar objects appear caught somewhere between usefulness and breakdown. Across sculpture, installation, photography and digital imagery, Sheng considers what happens when the systems intended to organise everyday life begin to reveal their instability.

The title is particularly apt. A skeleton is both support and exposure: the framework that allows a body to stand, but also what becomes visible when everything else has been stripped away. Sheng applies this logic to the urban environment. Housing, infrastructure, transport, technology and domestic objects become fragments of a larger anatomy, carrying traces of the lives shaped around them.

The exhibition’s presentation at Collective Gallery reinforces this sense of exposure. From the street, the exhibition announces itself through the image of one of Sheng’s feathered hybrid sculptures, immediately establishing the strange collision between industrial material and bodily form that continues inside.

This concern extends through Sheng’s wider practice, which includes works such as Scaffolding, Residue Habitat, Stratified Tiramisu, Unit Fatigue, Paper Crane and Tetris Skyline. The movement between sculpture, mixed media and digital modelling suggests an artist less interested in a single material language than in the systems that materials are made to serve.

Within Urban Skeleton, some of the most immediate works arise from the collision of industrial objects with feathers. A car light is enveloped by a dense mass of black, grey and white plumage. Its brilliant red lens remains visible at the centre, less like a discarded vehicle component than an exposed organ.

The transformation is effective precisely because Sheng does not disguise the original component. The light remains recognisable. Its manufactured surface, functional geometry and intense artificial colour resist the softness of the feathers around it. What emerges is not a harmonious hybrid, but an uneasy coexistence.

The contrast produces several associations at once. The car light belongs to movement, speed and circulation, while feathers suggest flight. Yet neither offers genuine freedom here. The vehicle component has been detached from the machine that once enabled movement, while the feathers cluster around something too heavy to fly. Sheng turns two familiar symbols of mobility into an image of constraint.

This tension becomes still more pronounced in the large sculptural work incorporating a domestic water dispenser. Encircled by sweeping black and white feathered forms, the mundane appliance takes on an unexpectedly bodily presence.

The wings appear capable of enclosing, carrying or protecting it, yet their weight and density make flight impossible.

There is something deliberately absurd about the encounter, but the humour quickly gives way to discomfort. A water dispenser is a banal object of provision, associated with offices, workplaces and shared interiors. Removed from that setting and presented as the central mass of a winged sculpture, it becomes a curious monument to dependency. The promise of elevation remains tethered to an apparatus of everyday survival.

Sheng repeatedly makes this friction between aspiration and material reality central to the exhibition. Desire is present, but it is never abstract. It encounters weight, architecture, money, labour and limited space.

That emphasis gives Urban Skeleton particular relevance within contemporary Britain. The exhibition’s curatorial framework connects Sheng’s material experiments to housing pressure, redevelopment and the transformation of post-industrial environments. Yet the work is at its strongest when these themes are not illustrated literally. Instead, they are allowed to emerge through instability itself.

Elsewhere, architectural imagery spreads across the gallery wall in irregular configurations. Photographs and constructed images of residential façades, windows and repetitive building structures are cut, interrupted and reassembled. Rectangular voids puncture several works, transforming the architecture into something resembling damaged tissue or incomplete memory.

These openings are important. They interrupt the façade and deny the viewer an uncomplicated architectural image. Buildings cease to function simply as objects to be observed and instead become framing devices through which sky, distance and absence are perceived.

The modular arrangement reinforces the sense that the city is continuously being dismantled and rebuilt. Individual images appear related without resolving into a single panorama. Urban experience becomes fragmented, cumulative and provisional.

A comparable instability appears in the works assembled from domestic and architectural imagery deeper within the gallery. Torn photographic sections of interiors and social spaces sit alongside a digital screen displaying a sculptural construction. The relationship between physical and mediated space is deliberately porous.

Domestic interiors become documentation, documentation becomes material, and material is subjected to further reconstruction.

The torn edges prevent these images from operating simply as records. They behave instead like fragments recovered from a larger structure whose boundaries can no longer be restored.

This is where Sheng’s ideas about the relationship between body and city become especially persuasive. Urban architecture is often treated as something exterior to the individual, a setting within which human activity occurs. Urban Skeleton reverses that assumption. The city enters the body through repetition: through the dimensions of rooms, the routes taken each day, the density of transport, the rhythms of employment and the negotiation of increasingly restricted space.

Over time, such structures shape behaviour as effectively as walls shape buildings.

The modest scale of Collective Gallery serves the exhibition well. Sheng’s works are not isolated within a vast institutional space. They share the visitor’s physical environment. One must move around them, adjust position and negotiate the gallery in relation to their protruding feathers, industrial forms and wall-based constructions.