02 · Brand, web & e-commerceEDITIONS — a print brand, built and runBilingual Shopify store built end to end, 106 listingsView →
02 · Brand, web & e-commerceProduct listing visualsEvery print placed into an interior at true sizeView →
03 · Art eventsEvent visualsEditorial, playful and formal, from one house styleView →
03 · Art eventsEvent photographyDinners, exhibitions and merchandise, shot as they happenedView →
04 · Print & layoutPostersSix posters, one information set, six hierarchiesView →
04 · Print & layoutPrint production, end to endBilingual tasting menu, set, specced and taken to printView →
05 · Product & processOnboarding for an enterprise auditing platformEight guided flows and the animated GIFs that carry themView →
05 · Product & processUnimelb Go — campus navigation conceptThree-minute concept film, edited by meView →
06 · Tactile map artworkLine art that gets read with fingersPre-press artwork for embossed tactile mapsView →
07 · Event guidanceAn illustrated map to walk an event byOne sheet: the site, the path, the timesView →
08 · Personal workTwo photographic seriesGrandmother, and a series on whether zoos should existView →
I'm Chris — a bilingual designer working in English and Traditional Chinese, based in Brunswick, Melbourne.
For a year I ran design and marketing at a Taipei art gallery: exhibition posters, printed menus, product listings, social graphics and the writing that went with them. I've drawn the line artwork for tactile maps read by touch, designed posters independently for theatre and concerts, and photographed the events I designed for.
Since moving to Melbourne I've also worked as a product and process analyst, so my recent CV reads as analysis rather than design. Visuals or processes—my job is to translate complexity into clarity.
EDITIONS by THE STUDIO · Taipei · 2022–2023
I established EDITIONS, the gallery's online art-print brand, and built the bilingual store on Shopify end to end — store design, navigation, product listings and their imagery, pricing, copy and fulfilment. Alongside it I designed and managed the gallery's Wix site, wrote and built the English EDM campaigns, and produced the social graphics.
Art prints are hard to sell flat — a customer needs the scale and the room it belongs in. So every listing got its print placed into an interior at true size: the frame, the wall, the furniture, the light.








Different rooms, one product-photography language — consistent framing, light and scale cues, so the grid reads as one catalogue.
THE STUDIO, Taipei · art dinners, exhibitions and tastings
Three registers — editorial, playful, formal — all recognisably from the same house. I wrote the captions and the English EDM copy with them. Events were the gallery's engine and I ran the visual side in both directions: the graphics that got people through the door, then the photographs that became the next campaign's raw material.
Exhibitions, dinners and merchandise, shot as they happened — so listings, social posts and next season's invitations all drew on our own images rather than borrowed ones.
The full-table shot was the one the gallery needed most: one frame showing the food, the room, the artwork on the walls, and the fact that people came.






Exhibition work for THE STUDIO, Taipei, plus independent commissions for theatre, concerts and music
Every one of these carries the same information set — title, dates, session times, venue, address, QR code, organiser lock-up — and the whole job is deciding what a person sees first, second and third. Several are bilingual, set in English and Traditional Chinese within one layout, which means building the grid with slack in it: English copy always runs longer than the Chinese it's translated from.
An album sleeve — one continuous artwork that has to survive being folded around an object and still work as a thumbnail. My own macro photograph, hand-lettered title, and an illustration drawn into the same photograph so the two panels read as one wrapped object.
Melbourne · 2025 · the work my recent CV is about
If you've come here from my LinkedIn, this is the part that explains it. Since moving to Melbourne I've worked as a product and process analyst — mapping how work actually gets done, then designing the thing that makes it easier. Same instinct as the tactile maps above, pointed at software instead of paper.
New customers of our industrial auditing platform were arriving, opening the product and stalling. I walked the onboarding journey myself and documented 15+ system issues and friction points as the baseline for the roadmap — then built the fix rather than just recommending it.
Eight guided task flows, so a first-time user could complete their first audit plan unassisted. The instructional weight sits in the visuals: I designed the animated GIFs that carry each step. Around them, a 19-article knowledge base written from scratch with an AI assistant on top, plus 50+ developer-ready specifications defining interaction behaviour and QA criteria.
A GIF like this replaces a paragraph. The user doesn't read "open the layout menu in the top left" and then go hunting — they watch it happen once and copy it.
Which made the decisions about attention rather than decoration: how long to hold on the target before moving, how tightly to crop so the control fills the frame, when a highlight helps and when it's noise. Zoomed this far, one step still reads at thumbnail size inside a help article.
A note on what I can show. Our platform is under confidentiality, so this is a single cropped step rather than the full set of eight flows or anything carrying customer data. Happy to talk through the process, the decisions and the results in detail — I just can't publish the screens.
A three-minute concept film for an app that gets a student from their timetable to the right room. I edited it — the cut, the pacing, the countdown device, the on-screen titles and the sound.
It opens on the problem rather than the product: a clock ticking down while someone circles a sandstone building, looking for a lecture theatre the signage won't admit to. The interface only appears once you already want it to. Cutting it was the same editorial problem as the rest of this page — decide what the viewer needs next, cut everything that isn't that.
unimelb_go.mp4, supplied alongside this document.


Pre-press artwork for tactile map production · 2023
Tactile maps are embossed, not printed — raised lines and surfaces that a blind or low-vision reader traces by hand. My part sits before the machine: I draw the map as clean line work and colour-code every area, so the production technician knows which lines and surfaces to raise. The colours aren't decoration; they're instructions.
Two projects. One to get someone out of a building, one to get them to the right counter.
An evacuation route map for a school whose students are blind or low-vision. One continuous dashed route with directional arrows runs from a marked you-are-here point out to the stairwells and exits.
The legend holds six items: current position, evacuation route, lift, fire exit, and the two toilets. Everything else on the sheet is a room label.
Customer-floor guidance maps for four Shin Kong Life branch buildings, drawn to one shared visual system across four different floor plans. Each carries the numbered service counters, waiting areas, ticket machines and charging stations, and a colour-coded key for the accessible toilet, water fountain and ATM.
Christmas event, 2017 · a community church in Banqiao, New Taipei · A3 event guide
A church asked me to draw a guidance map for their Christmas event, so visitors could find their way around it. I illustrated the site as a flat plan with one bold path running through it, marked each activity point with its own icon, and set the session times along the bottom as plain running text.
Icons do the work text can't here. Someone glancing at this while walking should be able to match a picture to a place without reading a legend first.
Shot for myself, not for a brief
A quiet series about my grandmother, made in the rooms she spends most of her time in. The chair by the window, the watch worn every day, the bed left mid-morning, the light she sits in.
I keep coming back to it because it's the opposite of how older people are usually pictured — neither pitied nor implausibly sunny, just present.



A series made to sit inside the argument over whether zoos should continue to exist. The title is the question, asked flatly.
So I shoot the barrier instead of cropping it out. The mesh, the bars, the glass and the weather stay in frame, because they're the part of the animal's life we built. A silverback gorilla looking back through glass is a different photograph to a silverback gorilla — and the difference is the whole subject.
I'm not arguing a side. I'm trying to photograph the enclosure honestly enough that the question stays open.


