"Anything connected with machinery can almost always get me excited. In my world, parts and gears never come together for no reason—like the elegant curves of light and shadow on a train wheel hub, that is a symbiosis that brings together art and power." — Yang Jian, MAYA 3D Modeler

 

Before the interview, I made a point of looking up the job requirements for a 3D modeler. Beyond proficient modeling skills, solid three-dimensional spatial imagination, and the ability to grasp form, one also needs outstanding visual expression and creative thinking. In addition, some rather amusing stipulations really opened my eyes: the work environment is indoors at room temperature; one must have a certain level of verbal expression ability; fingers must be nimble and color vision normal.

 

A Metal Sculpture Beneath the Digital Pen

 

Camo pants, a black hoodie, hiking shoes, plus a muscular build. Meeting Yang Jian for the first time made me mistake him for a fitness coach at some club. The image in my mind of those office boys who spend long hours hunched over their desks was completely overturned. So I trotted along behind him and slipped through the glass doors of the studio.

 

Like all buildings stationed in art parks, every brick and tile here exudes a strong sense of design: exposed beams and pendant lights overhead, tall white walls, and an elegant human figure sculpture in front of the workbench. A casual glance upward reveals flowers and plants growing freely. Faced with such an enviable environment, it would be more accurate to say that Yang Jian immerses himself in a unique tin box to paint with dedication than to say he sits in an office working overtime every day. I curiously took in the scenery around me and even analyzed the metal material used to build the roof. In short, before the interview even began, my thoughts had already been led astray by some inexplicable atmosphere.

   

But then again, what Yang Jian creates is not ordinary painting. In professional terms, it should be called "Modeling," that is, the process of sculpting three-dimensional models on a computer using 3D software. This is a key step in 3D animation production. No matter what character it is, a 3D modeler can perfectly bring it to life with the digital pen in hand.

 

Only, Yang Jian prefers to style machinery.

 

Men's love of machinery is an innate obsession. Yang Jian is no exception. Perhaps it is because precision, power, and hard metal mechanical products contain infinite adventurous spirit and desire for conquest. As long as it is connected with machinery, anything can get him excited. In Yang Jian's world, parts and gears are spirits endowed with life by heaven, taking on different forms, draped in dreamlike light, and arranged and combined in a reasonable way. They never come together for no reason—like the elegant curves of light and shadow on a train wheel hub, that is a symbiosis that brings together art and power.

 

A Little Theater in the Mind

 

The first time I saw the train created by Yang Jian, I foolishly tried to figure out the prototype of the body, always thinking that creating such a complex and large precision instrument would require copying a tiger from a cat or something. But Yang Jian told me that without understanding the working principles and structural combination logic of machinery, let alone a train, you would not even be able to draw an axle clearly. When it came to the working principles of trains, wheel-rail relationships, bogie structures, braking devices, and so on, he spoke with great fluency, transforming from a design expert into a locomotive expert. "You can't just draw randomly. Design also needs rationality, otherwise a fine machine turns into a monster."

 

In his view, every 3D modeler has a super little theater in their mind. When an object enters the line of sight from a certain angle and is projected onto the center of the stage, powerful three-dimensional spatial imagination comes into play. In this secondary processing, the object gradually becomes fuller, refined from point to surface and from surface to volume, until it rotates on the stage. For an expert like him, before putting pen to paper, he must first torment his brain. Sometimes thinking through the structure of a wheel takes most of a day. No flat curve, part groove, or cross-sectional texture is overlooked. Of course, these relatively hidden parts need to be felt by touch. "What preparations do you need to make for each creation?" I asked. Yang Jian's answer was straightforward: "Just play more, look more, touch more, and imagine more in daily life." He believes that technique should not be the goal of a designer; it is only a means to realize creativity. Only when creativity keeps moving forward can technique have more possibilities for development.

 

According to Yang Jian, not long ago he had just gone out to "show off" for a big loop—riding his own assembled no-name bicycle all the way to Tibet, losing 10 kilograms in weight. Of course, the hundreds of parts were all bought online, absolutely professional grade. The reason he wanted to DIY was simple: if it broke down halfway, he could just take it apart into pieces, which made repairs more comfortable.