December 3, 2025

This article was authored by Zhongjing Jiang, a UK-based artist and researcher focused on robotic art and experimental practice. 

As digital technology transforms our lives, in-person interactions are increasingly replaced by virtual ones, creating a paradox where young adults feel constantly connected yet deeply lonely. Through my PhD research, I’ve taken an artistic approach to address this by designing companion robots. More specifically, creating a humanoid robot paired with a fine-turning large language model to explore new forms of emotional companionship in the digital age.

I created a robot double based on my face, named Zhongjing 2.0. She can open and close her mouth, hold nuanced conversations using a language model trained on workshop data from British students, and track or greet people with a camera in her left eye. The result is dialogue that reflects real emotional nuance. Developed under strict ethical guidelines, Zhongjing 2.0 avoids medical or psychological advice and discourages risky behaviour. For many, interacting with her feels like conversing with a gentle, aimless poet — a new kind of digital companionship.

My journey from photographic art practitioner to robotic art researcher is rooted in a longitudinal engagement with solitude, a theme explored over a decade. Born into the only-child generation in China and raised in boarding fine art schools, where I majored in piano, harp, and visual art, solitude became my second nature. I often travelled alone, capturing fragments of emotion with my Leica 135 film camera, which for years served as my sensory extension, a prosthetic for reaching out to the world. Immersed in science fiction films, I found myself longing for the gentle companionship of fictional robots — beings more than human, who neither judge nor demand, but simply listen and wait. 

From camera to machine, Zhongjing 2.0 is my robotic self-portrait, a ‘Doppelganger’, growing from me like a vine, an extension of body and consciousness. Its presence, however, is more complex, inviting multidimensional exchanges between myself, Zhongjing 2.0, and the audience.

I chose a humanoid robot precisely to confront the “uncanny valley”, believing it’s essential to keep pushing the boundaries of design. Unlike virtual avatars, which often encourage inward reflection, a physical robot can spark genuine social interaction. In my recent solo exhibition, I Dream a Lot but I Never Sleep, at the University for the Creative Arts, Zhongjing 2.0 was placed in an immersive living-room setting, surrounded by multimedia installations that invited visitors to listen, read, touch, and dream.

The exhibition affirmed my approach: students naturally gathered around Zhongjing 2.0, whose sometimes awkward presence sparked conversation and animated the space, much like a talkative companion. The robot responded to everything from how to make a scone and the difference between art and craft, to the quietness of a tired day. Zhongjing 2.0’s emotional resonance and aesthetic value stem from her unique capacity to merge art and technology while inviting open-ended exploration. Over the past year, this project has been presented at international conferences, received press coverage and touring invitations in both the UK and China, evolving with every new showing.

Zhongjing 2.0 will continue to break barriers between art and technology precisely because she embodies the spirit of journeying into the unknown — the essence of more-than-human exploration.