PORTAL 002 is an immersive art experience happening on 12th April at The Plant Room in London. The evening transforms the space into a surreal forest of set design, sculpture, video, and sound. It boasts the talents of artists like Dasha, Wolf Cutt and anetherealbooth (Charlie Jimenez) — pioneers of the underground conceptual performance art scene, known for uniting trans-human, internet-rooted expression with live, embodied practice. We sat down with Scarlett Wang who will be opening the experience.

How does your performance at PORTAL 002 blend with the surreal, immersive environment created by the other artists?

When I saw the theme of this edition—especially the Celtic deer mythology—I immediately thought of a cartoon I watched as a child called Nine-Coloured Deer (九色鹿). It’s based on a Buddhist Jataka tale, where a magical deer saves a drowning man, only to be betrayed by him. That story always stayed with me, and I was struck by how closely it aligned with Portal 002’s world: both stories deal with the act of chasing a deer, a kind of spiritual threshold that opens into another realm.

The performance became my response to that mythic overlap. As a part of the opening ritual, I wanted my performance to be the deer—an ethereal, seductive portal that draws the audience deeper into the event, like an initiation into something unknown.

The visuals and set design being developed for the show also resonate deeply with my piece. The mystical illustrations of spectral beings in forests, the use of organic materials like roots and bark in the sculpture Nym’s building—it all echoes the aesthetic of my performance: reflective textures, glittering blood, cling film, and lace. We’re all contributing different parts of the same dream, just in different media.

What themes or emotions are you hoping to evoke through your opening performance at The Plant Room?

I want the audience to feel something physical, maybe even uncomfortable—something between reverence and revulsion. The performance moves from tenderness to violence, and I’m considering using raw materials like real animal organs or meat to push that further. The beauty of the deer becomes disturbing when it’s consumed. That tension is the point.

There’s also something darker underneath—the desire to capture and possess something sacred. The act of chasing a divine creature to dominate it echoes histories of colonialism: the urge to own, to conquer beauty, to take what doesn’t belong to you. This performance is not specifically about colonialism, but I do think the power dynamics it explores open up many possible interpretations. I hope each audience member brings their own lens—whether it’s about gender, spirituality, violence, or systems of control. That ambiguity makes the work one step closer to mythology.

How do you approach integrating elements of internet-rooted expression with live, embodied practice in your work?

I think for many of us performance artists, there’s always that quiet thought at the back of our minds: What photo will I post after this? It’s a blessing and a curse. We’re constantly shifting between being fully present in our bodies and imagining how that presence will be captured, filtered, and shared. Honestly, this costume was partly born from that instinct—I wanted something that would look striking in photos. The reflective textures, the horns, the glitter—they catch light in a way that makes the image linger.

That combination of synthetic glitter and raw, natural materials also mirrors something deeper in our generation’s aesthetic—a kind of cyber-organic identity. We’re not fully digital, not fully physical. We’re both. So I guess the performance ends up expressing that blend too: something ancient and sacred, but also screen-bright and artificial.

What excites you most about collaborating with artists in such an experimental setting?

What excites me most is that all of them have developed such strong artistic languages. I still feel like I’m in a more experimental phase—there are recurring themes in my work like ritual, struggle, and emotional depth, but I’m exploring different ways to express them. So for me, this opportunity isn’t just about performing—it’s also about learning and expanding by being surrounded by artists I deeply respect.

How do you hope audiences will engage with and interpret your performance within the larger immersive experience of PORTAL 002?

I don’t want to control how people interpret the performance. My hope is that it feels like something they enter, rather than watch—something instinctual, visceral, maybe even uncomfortable. The deer isn’t just a character, it’s a kind of test: do you chase it, protect it, betray it, consume it?

Within the wider Portal 002 experience, I hope my piece acts like a gateway—subtle but charged. A soft opening that pulls the audience inward, deeper into the world the rest of the artists are building. I want it to stir something bodily first, then let meaning come later—if it wants to.

Tickets to Portal 002 are available here.