Interview with Ting Shuo Wang

YEAH YEAH Ltd. is a Taiwan-based creative company that works at the intersection of ecology, education, design, and everyday life. Our team brings together backgrounds in biology, environmental education, exhibition planning, product development, and visual communication.

We focus on transforming scientific and ecological knowledge into accessible experiences for children, families, schools, communities, and brands. Our projects include educational exhibitions, learning programs, biodiversity-themed products, ecological installations, and public engagement initiatives.

Rather than treating design only as a visual outcome, we see it as a way to create participation and understanding. Through storytelling, interaction, and carefully designed learning experiences, we hope to make topics such as agriculture, insects, biodiversity, and sustainability easier to approach and more closely connected to daily life.

Our long-term goal is to bring biodiversity into everyday spaces, and to help people build a more emotional and practical relationship with nature.

For me, design is a form of translation. It is a way to transform complex academic knowledge and social issues into experiences that are engaging, understandable, and memorable.

Many important topics, such as ecology, agriculture, biodiversity, sustainability, and food systems, are often difficult for the general public to approach. Through design, we can reorganize information, create visual and interactive narratives, and guide people to enter these subjects with curiosity rather than distance.

I believe design has the power to improve the effectiveness of communication. It can make knowledge more attractive, lower the barrier to understanding, and help people build emotional connections with issues that may otherwise feel abstract or unrelated to their daily lives.

To me, good design does not only deliver information. It creates a pathway for people to notice, understand, care, and eventually take action.

I am most interested in designing works that belong to the field of social design. For me, the most meaningful design projects are those that begin with ecological, environmental, or social care issues, and then transform these concerns into experiences that people can understand, participate in, and feel connected to.

I especially enjoy projects that bring together education, public engagement, sustainability, and community participation. These works may take the form of exhibitions, workshops, learning tools, products, or interactive experiences, but their purpose is not only to present information. They are designed to create awareness, empathy, and action.

In our practice, design is an important communication tool. It allows us to translate complex environmental and social topics into accessible forms, so that more people can recognize their relevance to everyday life. This is why I feel that social design is the most important direction for our work.

Rather than naming one specific exhibition or design work, my favorite kind of design is one that begins with nature and respects the existing environment.

I am especially drawn to ecological design that does not try to dominate the landscape, but gently becomes part of it. To me, the best design for natural environments is often not the most visually striking or artificial one, but the one that uses the least intervention while creating the most meaningful relationship between people, nature, and place.

I appreciate designs that observe natural forms, local materials, seasonal changes, and ecological relationships, and then respond to them with sensitivity. These works do not separate design from nature, but allow design to quietly support, reveal, or enhance what is already there.

This is the ecological design approach I admire most: design that feels humble, gentle, and deeply connected to the land.

The first thing I designed for a company was an educational tool for soil and water conservation. It was a wooden teaching aid that allowed students to learn through hands-on operation, rather than only through textbooks or lectures.

The tool was designed to help children understand the relationship between terraced fields, water flow, soil conservation, and ecology. By physically manipulating the wooden structure, students could observe how landforms influence water movement, how terraces help reduce soil erosion, and how agricultural landscapes can also support ecological balance.

This early project had a strong influence on my later work. It made me realize that design can make environmental knowledge more tangible. When children can touch, move, test, and observe, abstract concepts become easier to understand and remember. Since then, I have continued to see design as a bridge between professional knowledge and public learning.

My favorite “platform” is physical interaction. In our design practice, I value hands-on experiences more than purely digital tools, especially because our main audience is often children.

In today’s digital age, children are already surrounded by screens and digital technology. However, when we work with themes such as ecology, agriculture, social design, and environmental education, real understanding often comes from direct experience. Participants need to touch, move, observe, compare, and make decisions with their own bodies in order to truly understand the concepts behind the design.

For this reason, we often use physical materials, interactive installations, teaching tools, and spatial experiences as our main design language. These tangible interactions help transform abstract issues into something concrete and memorable.

To me, technology does not always have to be digital. A well-designed object, a simple mechanical structure, or a carefully guided activity can also be a powerful technology for learning, communication, and social engagement.

I feel most creative when I am in nature, especially in the mountains or by the sea.

Natural environments always give me a strong sense of inspiration. When I am surrounded by forests, insects, plants, stones, wind, waves, or changing light, I become more sensitive to details and relationships that are often overlooked in everyday life.

For our team, nature is not only a source of visual inspiration, but also a place where we learn how systems are connected. Observing ecosystems helps us think about design in a more humble and organic way. It reminds us that good design should not simply impose ideas on the world, but should listen, respond, and create meaningful relationships between people, place, and the environment.

Many of our design ideas begin from this kind of observation.

During the design process, I focus most on clarity, participation, and impact.

Because many of our projects deal with academic knowledge, ecological issues, or social topics, the first thing I care about is whether the core message is accurate and clearly translated. A design may look attractive, but if people cannot understand the meaning behind it, the communication is not successful.

I also focus strongly on the user experience, especially for children and families. I think about how people enter the story, how they interact with the space or objects, and whether the experience encourages them to observe, ask questions, and make connections by themselves.

Finally, I care about what remains after the design experience. Good design should not only create a moment of attention. It should leave behind understanding, curiosity, empathy, or even a small change in behavior. For me, these are the most important aspects of design.

When I design, I often feel both joy and anxiety at the same time.

The joy comes from the process of turning an idea into something visible, tangible, and meaningful. I enjoy imagining how people will interact with the work, how children will respond to it, and how a complex concept can become an experience that feels interesting and approachable.

At the same time, I also feel a certain anxiety, because I care deeply about whether the audience can truly understand what we want to communicate. Many of our projects deal with ecological, educational, or social issues, so the responsibility of communication is very important to me.

This mixture of joy and anxiety keeps me attentive throughout the design process. It pushes me to keep asking: Is the message clear? Is the experience engaging? Will people remember something after they leave? For me, these emotions are part of designing with care.

When my designs are realized, the strongest emotion I feel is wonder.

Even though every project begins with research, discussion, and careful planning, the final result often still feels surprising to me. During the brainstorming process, ideas are usually fragmented, uncertain, and constantly changing. But through collaboration, testing, and refinement, those ideas gradually take shape and become something real.

I always find it fascinating that a series of conversations, sketches, questions, and small decisions can eventually turn into a unique experience that people can actually see, touch, and participate in.

For me, seeing a design realized is not only a moment of achievement. It is also a reminder of the magic of collaboration and imagination.

For me, a design is successful when the audience truly understands and responds to it.

Especially in exhibitions or educational projects, I believe success is not only measured by how rich the content looks, or how many issues are included in the design. The most important moment is when visitors, children, or users can describe in their own words what the design is trying to communicate.

When we receive feedback from the audience and realize that they have understood the meaning behind the experience, I feel that the design has fulfilled its purpose. This is particularly important when working with ecological, agricultural, or social topics, because these subjects can easily become too complex if we try to include everything at once.

A successful design should know what to leave out as much as what to include. If too many messages are forced into one project, the result may look abundant, but the audience may not remember anything clearly. Good design should create a clear pathway, allowing one meaningful idea to stay in people’s minds after the experience is over.

When judging whether a design is good or bad, I first consider its function and purpose.

A good design should clearly respond to the goal it was created for. Before judging its visual style, materials, or originality, I usually ask: What problem is this design trying to solve? Who is it designed for? Does it help the audience understand, participate, or act in the intended way?

Especially in educational, ecological, and social design projects, beauty alone is not enough. The design needs to communicate clearly and guide people toward the intended experience or understanding. If a design looks impressive but does not support its purpose, I do not consider it successful.

For me, good design is not only about appearance. It is about whether every element works together to serve the core goal.

From my point of view, designers have the responsibility to consider not only what they create, but also what kind of understanding, behavior, and relationship their work may encourage.

Design has the power to shape how people see and experience the world. It can make certain issues more visible, make complex knowledge easier to approach, and guide people toward more thoughtful choices. For this reason, I believe designers should be aware of the social and environmental messages carried by their work.

In relation to society, designers can help reduce the distance between professional knowledge and the general public. They should also think about who may be excluded from an experience, and how design can create more accessible ways for different people to participate. In this exhibition, for example, we included guided design for visually impaired visitors, so that the experience of food, agriculture, and local knowledge would not rely only on visual information.

In relation to the environment, designers should think carefully about materials, resources, and the relationship between humans and nature. Design should not only consume or decorate; it should also help people notice the systems that support our daily lives, such as food, agriculture, ecosystems, and biodiversity.

For me, the responsibility of a designer is not to force people to accept a message, but to create an entry point where more people can understand, care, and begin to act.

I think the design field is evolving beyond aesthetics alone. In the past, design was often discussed mainly in terms of beauty, function, originality, or market value. These aspects are still important, but I believe the future of design must place sustainability at the center of the process.

For me, future design should not only ask what we want to create, but also what resources will be used, what impact will be generated, and what kind of responsibility the design carries after it is produced. In our projects, we try to discuss sustainability from the very beginning, including materials, production methods, transportation, installation, reuse, waste, and the carbon emissions that may be created throughout the process.

I believe designers will need to become more aware of systems, not just objects. A design is not only the final outcome that people see. It is also connected to supply chains, energy use, environmental impact, social participation, and long-term maintenance.

The future of design, in my view, is more responsible, more interdisciplinary, and more closely connected to ecological and social sustainability.

Our most recent exhibition was a public awareness exhibition held in Taipei for a Taiwanese government agency. The exhibition used the concept of a hero’s adventure game to communicate an important message: when traveling abroad, people should not bring animal or plant quarantine items back to Taiwan.

Instead of presenting quarantine regulations only through text-based information, we transformed the topic into an interactive and story-driven experience. Through the game-like exhibition structure, visitors could better understand how personal travel behavior is connected to Taiwan’s agriculture, biodiversity, and ecological safety.

Our next exhibition will be the 2026 Food and Agriculture Education Exhibition for the New Taipei City Government. In this upcoming project, we will continue to explore how design can translate food, agriculture, ecology, and sustainability into engaging learning experiences for children and families.

The inspiration for my work mainly comes from two sources: interactions with children and observations of nature.

When I work with children, I am often inspired by the way they ask questions, notice details, and respond to the world with curiosity. Their reactions help me understand what is difficult, what is interesting, and what kind of experience can truly open a door to learning. Many of our design ideas begin from observing how children think, play, and discover.

Nature is another important source of inspiration. Ecosystems are full of relationships, structures, rhythms, and unexpected details. By observing insects, plants, landscapes, seasons, and ecological interactions, I often find new ways to think about design, storytelling, and participation.

I feed my creativity by staying close to real environments and real users. Instead of looking for inspiration only from design references, I try to learn from children, field observations, local communities, and the natural world. These experiences continuously remind me that design should be alive, responsive, and connected to the world around us.

I would describe my design style as nature-inspired, educational, and socially engaged.

My style does not come only from a visual preference, but from the way I work with ecology, children, and public communication. I am interested in designs that begin with real natural systems, local environments, and social issues, and then transform them into experiences that are warm, accessible, and easy to participate in.

The main characteristics of my style are storytelling, hands-on interaction, clear knowledge translation, and a gentle connection to nature. I prefer designs that do not feel overly artificial or distant from everyday life. Instead, I try to create works that invite people to observe, touch, play, ask questions, and gradually understand the meaning behind the experience.

I explored this style more deeply because many ecological and social topics are important, but they can feel difficult or distant to the general public. Through design, I hope to lower that barrier. My approach is to first understand the core knowledge or issue, then simplify and reorganize it into a clear experience, using visual language, spatial design, interaction, and narrative to guide people into the subject.

For me, design should not only present information. It should create a meaningful encounter between people, knowledge, and the world around them.

I live in Taiwan, a place that I see as one of Asia’s most open and vibrant democratic countries, while also existing under constant political pressure and uncertainty.

I believe this environment has deeply influenced the way we think about design. In Taiwan, we are surrounded by diverse cultural layers, including Indigenous cultures, agricultural traditions, local communities, immigrant influences, and contemporary civic movements. At the same time, we live with a strong awareness that freedom, identity, land, and daily life are not abstract ideas, but things that need to be continuously protected and discussed.

This has become an important source of nourishment for our design practice. It makes us more sensitive to social issues, local knowledge, environmental change, and the voices of different communities. It also encourages us to use design not only to create beautiful experiences, but to communicate, connect, and invite participation.

The advantage of designing in Taiwan is that the society is open, flexible, and full of creativity. People are willing to experiment, respond quickly, and participate in public issues. This gives designers many opportunities to create works that are closely connected to real life.

The challenge is that political pressure, limited resources, and social complexity often make design work more difficult. However, these challenges also push us to be clearer, more resilient, and more responsible in our communication. For me, living and designing in Taiwan means learning how to create with both freedom and awareness.

When we work with companies, we usually begin by understanding what they want to achieve and why they want to create the project.

Before entering the design stage, we spend time discussing the company’s goals, target audience, key message, and expected impact. This helps us clarify whether the project should focus more on education, branding, public communication, sustainability, or social engagement.

After that, we work together to refine the concept and visual direction. We try to identify the most important story behind the project, instead of immediately adding too many ideas or decorative elements. Once the direction is clear, we move into the design development stage, including experience design, visual language, spatial planning, interactive elements, or educational content, depending on the nature of the project.

For us, working with companies is a collaborative process. We do not simply provide a design result; we help transform their intentions into a clear and meaningful experience that can communicate effectively with the public.

My suggestion to companies is to first understand their own needs before looking for a designer. If a company searches for a designer without a clear purpose, it will be very difficult to find the right partner.

Before starting a collaboration, companies should try to clarify what they want to achieve, who they want to communicate with, and what problem or message they want the design to address. The designer can then help organize the content, identify the key message, and transform it into an effective design strategy and experience.

A good designer is not only someone who creates beautiful visuals. A good designer should be able to understand the company’s goals, ask the right questions, clarify complex information, and find the most suitable way to communicate with the audience.

For me, the best collaboration happens when the company has a clear intention, and the designer helps refine, translate, and shape that intention into a meaningful design.

My design process usually begins with understanding the core issue behind the project.

Before thinking about visual style or form, I first try to understand the context: What is the project trying to communicate? Who is the audience? What kind of change, awareness, or experience do we hope to create? This is especially important for our projects, because many of them involve ecological, educational, agricultural, or social topics.

After that, we move into research and knowledge translation. We collect information, organize the key concepts, and decide what should be simplified, emphasized, or transformed into an interactive experience. I believe that not all information needs to be shown at once. A good design process also involves choosing what to leave out, so the main message can become clearer.

Then we develop the story, spatial structure, visual language, and hands-on interactions. We pay close attention to how people enter the experience, how they participate, and what they may remember after leaving. For children and families, we especially focus on whether the experience is intuitive, playful, and easy to understand.

During the process, we also consider sustainability, materials, accessibility, production, installation, and the possible environmental impact of the project. Finally, we refine the design through discussion, testing, and feedback.

For me, design is not a straight line from idea to result. It is a process of listening, translating, testing, and adjusting until the message can truly reach people.