I would love to paint something about "life and death." In my initial imagination, the piece might be monochromatic, with clear, concise, and brisk brushstrokes, but I never got the chance to embark on that painting journey. Perhaps my understanding of "life and death" is not deep enough, which is why the profound works of the sages have failed to awaken my consciousness. I really wanted to find this opportunity, even if it only gave me the confidence to apply a few hasty strokes first. Therefore, on many idle evenings or late at night when I am working on my own creative endeavours, this question—one that may have no answer—which swirls in my head over and over again.
©HdM GALLERY
When it comes to painting, especially realistic painting, it’s almost as if it has been sentenced to death in the world of "contemporary art." Every time I think about it, I feel as if I’m lying on a full-body skeleton. It doesn’t feel uncomfortable at all; instead, it’s cool and solid. And you know what? I even find it a bit funny. Using something dead to depict death is like picking a live weed from southern China, randomly placing it in an exhibition hall, and then telling everyone with the same wit and humour: "This is life. I juxtapose found objects with the concept of poverty to express how East Asian geopolitics is developing metaphors of instability."
About two years ago, on a summer afternoon, I found myself staring at a model of a human skull, gazing into its two dark eye sockets, surrounded by hot, stuffy air. I recalled a passage from "Quanzhen Qingxuanji Making Iron Pots and Giving Food" (a Taoist text based on a traditional ritual of the Quanzhen sect of Taoism).
In the passage "Sighing at the Skull," it says: Nanhua Zhenren (which refers to Zhuangzi, the Taoist spiritual master) was traveling in the state of Chu when he saw a skeleton by the roadside. He recited with compassion: "Don't waste your time in the hundred years you have; seek to escape from suffering and calamity as soon as you can." This state of mind, deeply entangled in the suffering of life and death, contrasts with that of Zhuangzi, who wandered freely and let go of all burdens. In Zhuangzi's mindset, the skull is just a pillow with the ability to talk, allowing him to leave peacefully after waking up from his dream. But I always feel that he seems to have deep hostility towards "heaven," "earth," and "creation."
It’s getting solemn and quiet. yesterday's death is coming from the past, and the future is sourced from today's life. Who knows if the hollow in front of me whether appeared in Griffith's imagination when he decided to sacrifice the entire Knights? Or perhaps when Adrian van Utrecht is thinking about the metaphor of his next work, will he struggle to find a black color that is not black enough or death-like enough? Unfortunately, he couldn't find Anish Kapoor to ask for a few grams. I found a Polaroid and used its viewfinder to try to capture the possible compositions.
©HdM GALLERY
After that, I took the model of a skull for a walk in the studio and tried to put it together with other objects like a vase. I played with it until the sunset gradually turned blood red and the weather started cooling down. I opened a book the page just flipped to the that page which is written down "Death is a cool night, life is a sultry day", everything is just right. So this skull, symbolizing death, became a still life in front of a new work being born. It neither represented life or death, nor success or failure, but perhaps some jokes.
I will stay still and see.
He has held solo exhibitions at HdM Gallery, Beijing and Paris; and RS_PROJECTS, Wuhan. He has also participated in group exhibitions at Times Art Museum, Beijing; Blunt Society, Shanghai; W.ONESPACE, Shenzhen; Tokyo Gallery, Beijing; and Fine Arts Literature Art Center, Wuhan.
