Wang Huaxiang and His Three Lives

The title of the exhibition "Three Lives" comes as a hint for the diversity, or maybe ambiguity, of Wang Huaxiang's (b. 1962) multiple identities. Wang holds a teaching position at the China Central Academy of Fine Arts (CAFA), from where he graduated in the late 1980s. As a CAFA student, he studied woodcut printing and excelled at it; then, somehow, he transformed into an oil painter; but his most brilliant talent goes to pencil drawing, both in making and in teaching of it. In the early 1990s, his discourse on drawing education stirred up quite some controversy among art academies in China. It would be no surprise if he even had some hard time for it. Now, has he learned to play down his tunes, or does he remain high-pitched? What about his art? Something as conventional as an academicism artist should do or as cutting-edge as his acute personalities may suggest?

Wang Huaxiang, Someday, 2012, acrylic on canvas, 80 x 110cm.

The answers - to the above questions - remain with Wang's works that occupy almost the entire second floor of the CAFA museum. After touring around, let’s have some time for contemplation. There are various forms or mediums adopted here - as painting, drawing, woodcut printing and installations. For a variety of subject matters, Wang exhibits superb execution skills and scholarly aesthetics. In the portraits, human figures are distorted as if caused by excruciating pains. The narratives are sometimes allegorical, but with unknown or mystical themes. The satirical approach used by him can be traced back to Goya and Daumier. The Dali's or Magritte's style of imagery is erotically charged and can be visually hallucinating. In a summary, we could roughly categorize Wang's works as elite academism with satirical and surrealistic means of expression – plus philosophical insights.
Realism is at the center of explaining Wang's works, although its connotation in China is quite different from the original Western idea. In China, the practice of realism is in its unquestionable, orthodox status in art education of the academies. Not to mention, drawing is still assessed and plays a crucial role in the admission process. As an educator, however, Wang's teaching deviates from the academic doctrines. In 1994, he published a book encouraging spontaneity and a certain degree of freedom in expressiveness in drawing classes. As an oil painter, around that time, Wang began to explore a style now generally dubbed Cynical Realism. This is in contrast to his early woodcut prints that visually relate to the primitive rural lifestyle in the southwestern China. In the early 2000s, Wang, with open arms, embraced the pop culture and consumerism, and produced a series of shiny, stainless steel sculptures that echoed to Jeff Koons, but obviously with realist execution. One of these sculptures can be found at this exhibition, titled Desires of China. In it, erected manhood, in clusters, grow wildly like mushrooms. Striding on a bough is a female nude with arched back, seemingly in her state of ecstasy. Vulgarity, we can say. But is it actually the straightforwardness, or, the lack of diplomacy that makes us uncomfortable? If so, at least sincerity is a better strategy than hypocrisy, especially, in art making.

Wang Huaxiang, Right, That Is it, 2015, acrylic on canvas, 70 x 50cm.

Another interesting example of Wang's artistic style is in the work titled The Bound Slave. It is clearly modeled after Michelangelo's marble sculpture Dying Slave, with a narrative likely borrowed from Jonathan Swift's satirical novel Gulliver's Travels. The unruly brush strokes and the dark theme remind of Goya's murals in his final days. In the picture, a giant is subdued by numerous small figures crawling all over his body. His clothes torn, his face smeared, and his eyes open fiercely with traces of anger, fear and despair. What is personified can be the spirit, history or morality. But what is underlined here is the collective power from the individuals, trivial in their own right but immense when coming together.

More information about Wang Huaxiang’s solo exhibition:

“Three Lives”
The CAFA Museum
Duration: Sep. 11th, 2015 to Oct. 9th, 2015
Official Homepage:
http://museum.cafa.com.cn/cn/exhibitions/three%20lives/text

Wang Huaxiang, A Fantasy, 2012, acrylic on canvas, 70 x 50cm.

Wang Huaxiang, Desires of China Series 2, stainless steel, size unknown.

Wang Huaxiang, The Bound Slave, 2008, acrylic on canvas, 300 x 200cm.

Wang Huaxiang, The Bound Slave (in details), 2008, acrylic on canvas, 300 x 200cm.

Wang Huaxiang, Oh Series 2, 2013, acrylic on canvas, 80 x 110cm.

Wang Huaxiang, Wind Blowing Back 29, 2011, acrylic on canvas, 300 x 210cm.

Wang Huaxiang, Open and Close Series, 2015, installation, size unknown.

Wang Huaxiang, Why Is it, 2015, acrylic on canvas, 50 x 40cm.

Touchable: With Hand, Probably With Mind Too

It seems Sui Jianguo (b. 1956) is experimenting, obviously with the help of natural forces. To be specific, gravitational pull being the latest, has coauthored with him in artworks that change in shape and dimension with passing time. If viewers find themselves not shocked enough by his dripping paint sculpture, they would probably find it hard to contain their amazement (or amusement?) when eye-witnessing giant ice cubes melting away on a gallery floor. No doubt, the ice cubes make a mess after their disappearance within hours. But Sui’s efforts do leave an indelible mark on viewers’ mind. The artist’s sensitivity to time and the universal, mystic force of gravity does grab viewers’ attention. This said, Sui’s latest exhibition at Pace Beijing once again shows us what the all-mighty force is capable of.

On display are gigantic geometric objects in charcoal black color – cubes, cones and cylinders, to name a few – which stand aloof or cluster in groups. Thank the high ceilings of the gallery, these “ugly” (this might be a wrong word to describe the first impression; it can be aesthetically beautiful at the same time) beasts are housed and tamed for our visual pleasure. But one thing first-time viewers would immediately notice is the slight deformity of these objects. As the titles suggest, this is because of the gravity and the fluidity nature of the medium being used. Well noted, plasters and polyurethane are the main material here, which is more commonly found at construction sites rather than in gallery spaces.

Sui Jianguo, Gravity Field, 2015, mixed media, 17 x 8 x 5.4m.

Sui Jianguo, Cone, 2015, polyurethane, 160 x 265 x 185cm.

Sui Jianguo, Stick, 2015, polyurethane, 56 x 65 x 393cm.

Sui Jianguo, Hollow Square, 2015, polyurethane, 85 x 84 x 84cm.

Interior of the gallery of Pace Beijing, photographed by MC in 2015.

More information about Sui Jianguo's exhibition:

"Touchable"
Pace Beijing
Duration: 9th July to 22nd August, 2015
Web Link: http://www.pacegallery.com/beijing/exhibitions/12753/touchable

Tan Ping and his "Drawing": a Brief Review

Abstract art has a deeper root in the Chinese tradition than other imported forms. In history, Chinese literati painters managed to create a schema beyond craftsmanship representation. The final cream is the landscape genre, which was developed by Huang Binhong (1865-1955) to a new height in the 1930s. Huang is hailed as the master to distill the very spirit from Chinese ink paintings into creating near-purified shades and patterns of their standalone beauty. It wasn’t abstract art yet, but very close. No one would deny that if his footsteps are followed without disruption, the future of Chinese ink paintings would be total abstraction. In this scenario, Chinese and Western art would finally greet each other and may even merge into a joint movement.

But the narrative of history turns out to be a version more complicated than that. Now, Chinese abstract painters, when they look back into history, have to painfully admit that they have inherited more from the Western tradition than Chinese. Nevertheless, it is still pleasing to view their works from a contemporary art angle, although their Chinese identity is sometimes vague. In this sense, Tan Ping (b. 1960), a long time practitioner of abstract art in China, is no exception. His latest works, as exhibited at Beijing-based Ginkgo Space, serve as a reminder of the Western abstract convention - chromatic patches, stripes, grids, drips and so forth juxtaposing each other. Inevitably familiar at first glance. But then all the elements in play begin to resonate with viewers, in a milieu anchored by Tan's intellectual and emotional experiences. Tan explains his path of revelation as a progress from representation to self-expression, and finally the seeking of joy in painting itself.

Tan's works, invariably, accord with the above framework. He combines both intellectual and instinctive approaches in making his art. This is evident, as, in most cases, the composition is carefully arranged; while some other elements are subject to spontaneous impulses. In this way, spirituality is still the emphasis (which is inseparable to Tan's academic background), without emotion and sensation being sacrificed (which is probably inherited from the Chinese art tradition). By applying pigments layer upon layer, he renders his works with time-lapsing effect. Whatever he tries to communicate, the language he uses is only partially visible, with the rest hidden beneath the surface. The canvas is a mere tool to document this creative process.

Tan Ping, The Story of Peach Blossom Spring, 2015, acrylic on canvas, 160 x 200cm.

Tan Ping, Pain, 2015, acrylic on canvas, 300 x 400cm.

Tan Ping, Intruder - Blue, 2015, acrylic on canvas, 80 x 100cm.

More information about the exhibition:

“Drawing”

Ginkgo Space

No. 40, Xinzhong Jie, Dongcheng District, Beijing

Duration: June 13th - August 13th, 2015

www.ginkgspace.cn/en

"Tiger, Tiger, Tiger" and "Ai Weiwei"

Photos of Ai Weiwei (b. 1957) holding his returned passport have been circulating the internet for some time. It looks as if Ai is holding a trophy. It is symbolic, though, but still a rare victory to mark. For long, Ai has been fighting for his civil right to freely exit the country. But when the moment comes, he wills to turn inward and, with all he could sum up, do it in the vicinity of his neighborhood. Politics is as always a key feature here, but in a much muted way.

For first-time visitors at Caochangdi, highly perched surveillance cameras along the road serve well as directional guidance to Ai's residence-studio. Stare into the dark, chilling void of the lenses, one would likely wonder if the faceless "Big Brother" is still watching. To one’s delight, however, are the blazingly colorful, freshly cut flowers placed in a bicycle basket just outside the entrance. The flowers are sometimes out of sight, though, missing probably because they are “taken” by Ai’s villager neighbors. But what cannot be missed is the "258 FAKE" sign fixed beside the greenish gate door, hung in a way to look like an address plaque. Not far from Ai's studio at Chambers art gallery, a porcelain replicate of Ai's flower basket is on exhibition. Does he attempt to immortalize his own rebellious spirit, or simply to keep a souvenir for his helpless days in fighting for a course with bare hands?

Ai Weiwei, Bicycle Basket with Flowers , 2014, porcelain, 37 x 34 x 20cm.

Ai Weiwei, Bicycle Basket with Flowers (detail) , 2014, porcelain, 37 x 34 x 20cm.

Ai Weiwei, Tiger, Tiger, Tiger, 2015, 3,025 porcelain shards, dimension variable

Ai Weiwei, Tiger, Tiger, Tiger (detail), 2015, 3,025 porcelain shards, dimension variable.

The title of the exhibition here is “Tiger, Tiger, Tiger”, as referring to the work comprising of thousands of blue-and-white porcelain shards, which are broken off from larger objects. Each of these pieces includes the imagery of tigers in its various depictions. They show up in different sizes and postures. Some even look odd enough to be misidentified as other species. “Tigers are hard to beat” is probably the message hinted by Ai, for there are too many of them, and they always come back in different forms. A polite reminder to reformers: beating them all would take a war. More noticeably to visitors when they first enter the gallery's courtyard, however, is a towering wood assemblage. This tree-shaped installation is sinuous and weather-beaten of a sort appropriated by the Chinese aesthetics. One may marvel at how perfectly the boughs, clearly coming from different sources, fit into each other to create this mirage of a unity. Look closely, however, one may question if the grafted pieces, as a whole, would withstand natural forces for long despite its "awe and wonder" look.

Ai Weiwei, Tree, 2015, tree sections and stell, 7.4 x 7.1 x 6.9m.

Ai Weiwei, Tree (detail), 2015, tree sections and stell, 7.4 x 7.1 x 6.9m.

Ai Weiwei, Crystal Cube, 2014, crystal, 100 x 100 x 100cm.

As for the joint-space exhibition at the tourist packed 798 art district, Ai once again makes his statement forcefully through sizable works. Remember the 9,000 children's backpacks in a Munich museum? Or the 100 million sunflower seeds in Tate? Ai is well-known for using repetition, in a magnitude that might have made Andy Warhol feel sheepish. Thousands of teapot sprouts are arranged to neatly cover a square field on the floor. The meaning? No explanation as usual from the artist's side. But anyone familiar with the Chinese culture of comparing teapots to the manhood would have an idea or two about what the work points to.

Ai Weiwei, Field of Teapot Sprouts, 2015, porcelain, size unkown.

In terms of sheer size, the centerpiece encompassing both exhibition places is a Ming-dynasty-era ancestral hall, reassembled with newly added braces and fixes that can be easily spotted. Audiences are lured to the second floor to view this ancient architecture from an upper angel. Here a video documentary is played in cycles to show how this giant installation is dissembled and transported from its original site. Inspired by Marcel Duchamp, Ai extends the concept of daily objects to include historical pieces and transforms them into an art that speaks contemporary language.

Ai Weiwei, Wang Family Ancestral Hall, 2015, wooden elements with painted replacements, 21 x 16.8 x 9.4m.

Unlike most of his contemporaries who consciously choose to stylize their works, Ai seems to care less about that. While consistency in forms is still necessary, a universal concept or ideology is probably more important for him. In general, Ai likes the practice of picking up historical or cultural remains, rebranding them as avant-gardism, inflating them to a degree of absurdity, and finally presenting them to a public that tends to judge by the scale and the visual effects it helps with.

Ai Weiwei, Dragon Lantern and Tables, 2015, antique dragon lamp with wooden structure, 190 x 22 x 55cm.

Ai Weiwei, Dragon Lantern and Tables (detail), 2015, antique dragon lamp with wooden structure, 190 x 22 x 55cm.

More information about the exhibitions:

“Tiger, Tiger, Tiger”

Chambers Fine Art

Caochangdi, Beijing

Exhibit opens on June 13

www.chambersfineart.com

"Ai Weiwei"

Galleria Continua/Tang Contemporary Art

District 798, Beijing

+86 10 5978-9505

Through Sept. 6

www.galleriacontinua.com

2015 CAFA Graduate Student Exhibition -- The Start of a Long Journey

Adapted from the ancient Chinese philosopher Lao Zi's famous saying "the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step", the title of CAFA's graduating exhibition "The Start of a Long Journey" in essence coincides with the western idea of "commencement" for college graduates. Mind you, 146 works of this particular show are hand-picked from a large pool of more than 3,000 works of CAFA graduates. The mark of "excellence" here may simply be intended for viewers' convenience of judgment.

Among the works that are recognizable both from the Chinese art tradition and with more or less contemporary sense, Xie Dingquan's line drawing titled "The Other Shore/Side" excelled. Xie's work echoes the famous Chinese scroll "Eighty-Seven Fairy Volume", which is among the collections of modern Chinese artist and art educator Xu Beihong (1895-1953). He acquired the then-anonymous volume and personally appraised it as an authentic work by the legendary Wu Daozi. Wu is seen, especially in the Chinese mass culture, the greatest portrait painter in China’s ancient history.

Xie Dingquan, The Other ShoreSide (details), 2015, ink on rice paper, 30 x 292cm.

It is interesting to note that Xie is tutored by Xu Bin, who himself is among the top contemporary artists. Xu's student Geng Xue, with her transmedia work "Mr. Sea", was widely applauded during last year's graduating exhibition. Again, we are reminded that, works esthetically Chinese can be conceptually intriguing too in a contemporary context. What is relevant here is how the artist would put together all the elements. But in terms of an artist’s career path, how can such a model survive in the longer term? We don't know. Perhaps as long as the self-acclaimed successors of the Chinese art tradition continue to dominate the mass culture and public resources, such a counter-trend strategy will work. An interesting fact here is that both Xie and Geng as students study the same subject, oddly named "Possibility Study on Expansion and Extension of Print Language". Obviously, neither Xie's line drawing nor Geng's ceramic works with motion pictures can be related to print language.

For those who come to CAFA’s museum looking for some evidence of craftsmanship, they will unlikely be disappointed. Such works by Wang Ximin and Zhang Leifu show superb executions under familiar subject matters. Anyone standing in front of their fine works would appreciate the efforts made by the school to preserve our legacies. This said, viewers of Zhang's portraits would still find many nuanced details, color, composition and the play of light and shadows to name a few, that point to our present tense in a strongly emotional way.

Wang Ximin, Disaster Brought to the Fish in the Moat, 2015, mineral pigments on paper, size unknown.

Zhang Leifu, Portrait, 2015, oil on wood, 30 x 30cm.

Another example of China's academic tradition is shown in the gallery-size drawings by Kong Lingxin. Kong plays with the defining line between representational and non-representational forms. The muted color of black, white and different shades of greys combine to create an atmosphere of timelessness and tranquility. With the title "Those That Have Already Gone and Those That Are Yet to Come", it seems Kong also intends to trick viewers with dramatic suspension beyond the visual language of geometric harmony.

Kong Lingxin, Those That Have Already Gone and Those That Are Yet to Come, 2015, pencil on paper, 120 x 120cm.

Kong Lingxin, Those That Have Already Gone and Those That Are Yet to Come, 2015, pencil on paper, 120 x 120cm.

Also noted are installation and multimedia works. The room interior covered by wax, titled "The Memories That Cannot Be Molded," revokes nostalgic emotions with a feeling of traversing back to the irreversible past as an impassive on-looker. The use of wax as a dominant medium, however, looks familiar and reminds viewers of Joseph Beuys and his well-known fat chair. The installation is created by Li Jinghui. Last to mention is Huang Qicai's multimedia work titled “Stroll.” Huang personally collects deserted bodies of birds and small animals on highways, and uses their skeletons to make animated pictures showing they are lively strolling around again. It seems that these victims of road traffic have gained a second life, only in a more dignified way. The frames and bones are also arranged on spot as if to remind ourselves of carelessness and indifference to other living beings.

Li Jinghui, The Memories That Cannot Be Molded, 2015, installation, dimensions variable.

Li Jinghui, The Memories That Cannot Be Molded, 2015, installation, dimensions variable.

Huang Qicai, Stroll, 2015, installation and video.

Information about the exhibition can be found here:
http://www.artslant.com/cn/events/show/388072-the-long-journey-of-star-2015-cafa-excellent-graduation-works-exhibition