Meet Oltree Hui

We had the good fortune of connecting with Oltree Hui and we’ve shared our conversation below.

Hi Oltree, why did you pursue a creative career?
The question of why I chose to pursue a career in art and design first requires a reflection on the grammar of desire itself—what drives me to shift from one mode of creation to another. My journey began in the realms of oil painting and performance art, media rich with potential for confrontation and revelation, particularly in the context of political and social engagement. Yet, over time, I perceived a certain ambiguity in expression: while it liberated my voice, it did not necessarily establish a genuine connection with others.

Design, by contrast, operates within a different semiotic system—one that prioritizes communication over expression. To design is to place oneself within society, not merely to convey information but to construct dialogue, a syntax of care. It requires a paradoxical “dissolution of the self”: one must think from the perspective of others, empathizing with not only the subject matters, but also the users and perceivers. Even when design is critical or subversive, it must remain gentle, non-invasive, and educational—a kind of ethics of form. Yet, at times, design may need to adopt an aggressive form, paradoxically embracing forcefulness to fulfill its purpose, to rupture the codes it seeks to reconfigure. This tension between subtlety and intensity transforms design into an exhilarating game, a dynamic interplay of constraints and possibilities.

Thus, I came to understand design as a quiet revolution. It does not shout or impose but infiltrates, seduces, and ultimately reconfigures the symbolic codes by which we navigate the world. Through this process, I found not only a profession but also a mission: to transform the social text and rewrite the world through subtle interventions.

Let’s talk shop? Tell us more about your career, what can you share with our community?
One project that encapsulates my approach to design is “Twofold of a Map, Dichotomy of a Walk,” a process-driven and socially engaged practice that seeks to reimagine our connection to space. At its core, this project is about collaboration and reinterpreting the act of mapping. It begins with the seemingly simple act of wandering, where participants—many of whom are immigrants like myself—are invited to observe their surroundings while deeply engaging with their perceptions and body movements.

The project’s aim extends beyond the physical act of walking; it strives to help participants reimagine their relationship with the land and cultivate a renewed sense of belonging. Together, we design maps that abandon traditional scientific metrics—latitude, longitude, kilometers—in favor of measurements derived from the walker’s personal and perceptual journey. By centering these ego-centric and perception-centric spatial models, the project challenges conventional cartographic norms and redefines space as a deeply personal and fluid narrative.

For many immigrant participants, the act of mapping becomes a way to reconcile displacement with presence, to transform unfamiliar spaces into places of connection and meaning. This shared exploration fosters dialogue about identity, belonging, and how we inscribe ourselves into the world.

To address the rest of your question, I’d like to begin with the popular phrase “work-life balance.” While this suggests a separation, I see work as an integral part of life. My work is not just what I do; it is who I am. It reflects my passions, my questions, and my way of understanding the world. Because my work feels deeply meaningful to me, challenges are never insurmountable—they become opportunities for growth and exploration. External approval, while appreciated, holds less weight than my own internal evaluation of whether my work has achieved its purpose.

What I want the world to know about my story is this: Design, when approached with intention, collaboration, and empathy, has the power to transform not just objects but entire systems of thought. It can challenge conventions, create new ways of seeing, and invite us to reimagine our relationships—with the world, with others, and with ourselves. This belief drives everything I do.

Any places to eat or things to do that you can share with our readers? If they have a friend visiting town, what are some spots they could take them to?
The first stop on the itinerary would undoubtedly be Mirabelle Wine Bar in Valley Village. It’s my favorite spot to unwind with friends—it has this cozy, intimate vibe, a fantastic wine selection, and (most impressively for LA) its own parking lot, which makes life so much easier. It’s the kind of place where you can have meaningful conversations while sipping something exceptional.

The beauty of LA lies in its spontaneity—there’s always something happening, from art openings to theater performances. I’d tailor the plan to what’s going on that week, whether it’s a gallery night in Downtown, a unique pop-up event, or an indie film screening. For me, it’s all about immersing ourselves in the rhythm of the city.

When it comes to dining, I’m not a big fan of fancy restaurants, but LA’s food scene offers something even better: authenticity. One of my favorite things to do is pick up an incredible bottle of tequila—LA has access to brands and varieties that are hard to find elsewhere in the U.S.—and head to a taco stands. There’s something so satisfying about enjoying a simple, delicious meal with friends in an unpretentious setting.

Shoutout is all about shouting out others who you feel deserve additional recognition and exposure. Who would you like to shoutout?
If I were to dedicate a shoutout, it would undoubtedly go to Lin Hixson and Matthew Goulish, whose teaching during my undergraduate years in Chicago profoundly shaped my perspective. Their philosophy and pedagogy continue to resonate deeply with me; they offered a thought that has stayed with me: “To understand another person’s poetics is the smallest unit of humanity.”

This belief encapsulates a quiet yet radical notion—that empathy begins with the effort to comprehend someone else’s way of seeing, their unique syntax of thought and feeling. It’s an idea that has profoundly influenced how I approach my work, my relationships, and even my understanding of the world. Through their teaching, I came to see design as an extension of this principle: an invitation to connect, to bridge, and to create spaces where understanding becomes possible. For this, Lin and Matthew occupy an essential place in my story.

Another person I want to shout out to is HongZhou Wan, a remarkable colleague and an even greater friend. What makes HongZhou exceptional is his unique philosophy of creation. Before he designs anything, he establishes a set of rules, transforming every design challenge into a game. His philosophy/methodology underscore the idea that constraints and frameworks are not limitations but opportunities. Watching him work, I’ve learned that design is not merely about solving problems but about reimagining them, turning even the most mundane tasks into an exercise in discovery and joy. His spirit of playfulness—its experimentation, its unpredictability—is at the heart of truly meaningful design. For this, I owe him immense gratitude.

Website: https://projectarchive.art.calarts.edu/project/on-ways-of-seeing

Instagram: oltreehui