Mao Yan: Longing for More    Sep 2 - Sep 16, 2009

Organizer: Shanghai Art Museum

Sponsors: Shanghai Yibo Gallery / Chinablue Gallery

Venue: No.325, Nanjing Road (W), Shanghai

Mao Yan’s Wisdom

Art invariably involves pursuing extremes, especially contemporary art. On this point, artists are more or less agreed. Perhaps what then makes the difference is their degree of ignorance and wisdom. An ignorant pursuit takes the extreme to be some kind of independent object and adopts a direct and rash approach to its attainment. Pursuit by a wise man, on the other hand, simply involves exploring the tension between extremes. A wise artist’s gaze is empty as he dialectically grasps the ultimate from ambiguity. An artist’s careerism and ability lie herein. Should one confront a single extreme or multiple different poles? How far apart do they lie? Being able to manipulate a number of distant extremes is a dream of many artists, but in order to realise such a dream, their ability must be able to follow suit. Trying to control a number of extremes beyond one’s ability can reveal an artist’s greed, and ultimately his ignorance, while multiple extremes being handled within the scope of one’s ability can display an artist’s talent. Such an artist’s work will tend towards consummation.

Mao Yan’s wisdom lies in the fact that he has always worked within the scope of his own ability. Secondly, his ability reaches out to different extremes. One doesn’t want to dwell too much upon Mao Yan’s technique; he has quite simply been blessed. His tendency towards multiple extremes is however an aspect too often neglected.

Mao Yan’s generally recognised change of direction began ten years ago. Only after this did the “Thomas series” appear. This change of direction for Mao Yan was far from being the result of overcoming any kind of crisis, as is the case for so many artists. On the contrary, it came just as he had reached a peak. Both general opinion and indeed the quality of his work at the time are testament to the gradual shining of his career. Everyone was eagerly anticipating his next move, and yet strangely enough, Mao Yan walked away from it all.

Fleeing from fame is something artists should do but so often don’t manage to. Mao Yan managed it. But of course art is not about moral cultivation and Mao Yan’s actions had their own material logic, namely the turn towards another extreme.

The pursuit of another extreme for Mao Yan was certainly not a denial of the other; luckily it’s not as sad and savage that one must die for the other to emerge. He wanted to get as much from it as possible but was wise enough not to rush towards it. There is thus a contrast formed between the “Thomas series” and the “pre-Thomas period” that is filled with powerful tension.

The subjects depicted in “pre-Thomas period” paintings had faint social identities with age-bearing traits and complete, posed compositions. Later, these elements were simplified but the individuality of his works became stronger. Starting with the “Thomas series”, everything that ‘needed mention’ is no longer present. Mao Yan is ‘empty’ and ‘Thomas’ no more than a human shape. The leap from the “pre-Thomas period” to the “Thomas series” was one of ‘substance’ to ‘nothingness’, but this explanation is far from adequate. As far as Mao Yan is concerned, ‘emptiness’ is not ‘empty’ and is not just there as an echo to his pre-Thomas work. There is a distinguished air of elegance and beauty, intellect and artistic efflorescence within the emptiness.

The ‘emptiness’ in the “Thomas series” seems to express that “everything empty is colour” . Trying his utmost to disregard the significant elements of portraiture, the heavy responsibility of colour falls to pure and unadulterated painting. Consequently, Mao Yan is able to display his skills fully because in terms of ability, this work could be no one other than Mao Yan’s and without him it wouldn’t exist.

The “Thomas series” and the “pre-Thomas period” can be contrasted but within the “Thomas series” itself, emptiness and colour set each other off, pushing the work towards the limits. It’s like a revolution of the earth around the sun; both are moving of their own accord. Mao Yan’s artistic universe is extensive, where big and small no longer exist.

An aside: If successful, an artist could very well create a perfect universe within his lifetime. Such a universe wouldn’t care for being large or small, externally magnificent or all-inclusive; it would just need to operate efficiently of its own accord.

Another aside: The logic of an artistic universe is impossible to prepare for, one can only follow what such a universe opens up and presents to us – just like the real world and its respective laws. This is same for both artists and onlookers. Before such a universe opens itself up, artists might have some kind of presentiment, to which they’ll probably add an element of inspiration. Having this tiny bit extra is exactly what they are working towards.

Since the “Thomas series”, Mao Yan has had a presentiment concerning lust . Recent works such as Paris, Paris, Lisa Wearing a Hat, and Kim all feature female subjects. Women are the mark and symbol of lust. Degenerate and tacky women suggest even greater degrees of sexuality. This batch of work is completely different from that of the “Thomas series” and as such creates a strong contrast with it. Consequently, it’s fair to say that Mao Yan has had another change of direction, towards another new extreme. Once again, this is not because his creativity has come to a dead end, on the contrary, it has once again come at the time of a glorious peak. Mao Yan isn’t just striving to distance himself from his previous work, there is a whole new ‘lustful’ world to explore.

In contrast to the popular gaudy artwork of today, Mao Yan doesn’t vulgarise elegant concepts in order for his work to be attractive; it is quite the opposite. He is reworking vulgar subject matter into refined extremes. The more degenerate and tacky the subject, the more superbly refined is the painting, to the point that it becomes tasteful. He has even surprised himself of the classical style and taste of the work. The actual meaning of the ‘lust’ represented has thus become ‘empty’. As such, Mao Yan’s ‘pornography’ is far from being pornographic. It is empty, devoid of meaning, unreal, and transcendent. It’s true meaning lies in the depiction of the Buddhist saying, “everything with colour is empty.”

From ‘substance’ to ‘nothingness’, from “everything empty is colour” to “everything with colour is empty”, Mao Yan’s art displays movement towards multiple poles. Mao Yan constructs a formidable balance between the different extremes, revealing the endless tension between them. Following his intuition and presentiments, Mao Yan ultimately finds himself on a dialectical path.

I would finally like to add that good artists are inherently all masters of dialectics.

19 January 2008

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Mao Yan’s Perseverance

Li Xiaoshan

For many years, Mao Yan has limited himself to a relatively small range of subject matter. More than once I’ve heard heated discussions on this matter among friends in the art world. As an artist who holds a unique place in the eyes of many, Mao Yan has never sought to change this, or at least any changes that were made were limited to minute technical adjustments. Why is this so? Mao Yan isn’t the kind of artist who goes in for grand narratives. To a certain degree, he’s even wary of dealing with ‘big’ issues. Mao Yan strives to maintain coherence and continuity. With regard to his own particular characteristics, it’s a very wise strategy. We’ve all been confused at some point by some kind of illusion in life and whether it’s about history, the present day, politics or ethics, we all want to be able to pass on our own message to others. Naturally, there’s nothing wrong with this and those who want to, sometimes do it very successfully, which is commendable. The problem is that many people are very fond of speaking out about the ‘big’ issues in the public domain, blindly following the mainstream and simply become yes-men. Mao Yan makes his stand through his own unique means. On the surface, his work might not be spectacular and might not be at the centre of all the action but overtime it has gradually solidified a firm place for him in the contemporary art world. I have always believed that currently there isn’t any single artist who is able to provide art history with an entirely new concept or artwork. Being able just to add to it in a small way is already an outstanding achievement.

Mao Yan’s artistic ability was widely acknowledged early on, and forms his capital. I remember Bertrand Russell once said that to have ability was not rare, it was knowing how to use it well that was. This brings us back to what has just been touched upon – the question of different kinds of artists. Just as there are many complex factors involved in artistic creation, the channels used for verbal expression are also quite numerous, including sociology, historiography, psychology and iconography. But there isn’t any single means dedicated to the verbal discussion of an outstanding artist. Very often, reviews of artists seem to mistake a single part for the whole. Milan Kundera, for example, once said that ‘Kafkaism’ destroyed Kafka himself. Similarly, today’s over-zealous study of the Dream of the Red Chamber has completely torn its integrity to pieces. The ambiguity of artistic creation and clarity of verbal speech are fundamentally conflictual. Thus, I am extremely careful not to dissect like corpses artists’ work. I’d rather obey the ambiguity of creation, and lean away from excessive explanation.

Different kinds of artists are apt towards different artistic results; this is without doubt. In many previous articles, I’ve quoted Jorge Luis Borges’ prophecy-like dictum: writers can only write what they’re able to, not what they want to. Artists are the same – they can only create work that is within their ability’s range. In reality, Mao Yan has already produced works that has pushed the boundaries of his own abilities. People are used to classifying artists as first rate, second rate and so on; it’s needless to say that Mao Yan is widely acknowledged as being first rate. His individualism and originality are unparalleled. On many occasions have I heard fellow artists heap praise on his superb technique. To be the kind of artist, like Mao Yan, who hasn’t made their success through conceptual work and winning over the public with sensational statements but rather through specialised study of their own skills takes a particularly estimable quality. I have always disdained those who foolishly flaunt their showy skills, those who pilfer other’s left-over concepts, passing them off as blazing new tricks. I despise those charlatans who lack artistic ability and yet claim genius. In today’s chaotically sprouting world, Mao Yan’s down-to-earth and earnest nature is like a mirror that puts those imitations to shame.

There are however two problems to discuss. One regards the relatively long period in which Mao Yan has painted his foreign friend Thomas, painting him over and over. Thomas has become the clear symbol of Mao Yan’s current stage. The other problem concerns the long period over which Mao Yan’s style has undergone only very slight change. It’s like he is constantly repeating himself. In my opinion, however, these two problems aren’t really ‘problems’ at all, for two reasons. Firstly, it is in Mao Yan’s nature to dig a well and keep digging it deeper and deeper, as far as he can go, so the subject matter isn’t actually particularly important. What’s important is penetrating further into its depiction. The second reason is Mao Yan’s fundamentally settled attitude. His painting has become a mutual exchange between purpose and method, at once phenomenon and noumenon. The benefit of this is that it is powerfully symbolic, allowing him to use the same technique on different canvases, firmly establishing a sense of direction and style. As far as art history is concerned, except for a very small number of artists, such as Picasso, whose style was diverse and went through many transformations, most artists’ change is limited. Those that “only paint one painting in their lifetime” account for the majority. However, this analogy expresses the concentration of all of an artist’s quintessence in a single piece. Whether Mao Yan had stuck to the single subject matter of Thomas or if it had been someone else, the essence of it would not have changed. Analysing the mature workings of an artist, like the still lives of Morandi or figurative works of Balthus, one notices that the works often display a repetitive philosophical meaning already bestowed upon them. In other words, judging in philosophical terms, this kind of artistic expression is both epistemological and ethical. By repeatedly painting a fixed image, Mao Yan provides a means for such exploration.

When people observe things, or judge them, they often mistake a part for the whole. In my opinion, regardless of the artist, there are no such things as strong points and weak points in the eyes of onlookers because an artist’s individuality is a balanced whole. His strengths and weaknesses overlap and are constrained. As far as Mao Yan is concerned, people often take his extraordinary technique as their main subject but this is clearly misunderstood. Mao Yan was obviously born with the skill to paint, something so many are envious of. But this is just a gift that he acquired without his own effort. Mao Yan’s true gift is in his ability to use this skill in producing fresh visual expression. Appreciating Mao Yan’s work, whether it be early or current, one is faced with an explosion of artistic talent. It’s in every aspect of the canvas and is not only ‘technique’. Mao Yan uses grey tones, specks of light and brush strokes with incredible efficacy to portray his subjects with a quality few ordinary people are able to achieve. Painting at a glance so simple, and so effortless for Mao Yan, becomes visual pleasure for his audience. This demonstrates that genuine technique is alive, and changes in accordance with different artists. Technique itself is able to produce as much radiance as is esprit.

For a good artist, esprit is their guiding principle, technique their goal and once the principle grasps the goal, everything else falls into place. This is indisputable. But can there be esprit without technique? This becomes more controversial. The question of esprit in painting is incredibly complex. A great many observed expressions have been labelled ‘esprit’ by critics but they usually use the term at will, making it easier for them to express complex concepts. Meanwhile, the true esprit that is concealed in the depths of a painting is often neglected and remains unseen; this is how it is. Standing before a painting by Mao Yan, one can just perceive a sensitive and exquisite, restrained yet intelligent, aloof and apprehensively shimmering shadow in the background. It is here that the detachment, aspiration and pragmatic longing are cemented together and where Mao Yan’s individual emotions and hopes are transformed into a humane universality. Through his work he becomes the other, Mao Yan transforms himself into his subject. In this respect, his esprit is very clearly displayed – the transformation of the individual into the universal – it becomes a kind of temperament, a mode of existence.

The vast majority of critical reviews of Mao Yan’s work praise his profound figurative depiction, (his technique is another common emphasis), indicating that this depth is neither sociological nor aesthetic. Mao Yan, himself, rarely speaks about or explains his own work. This is partly a character trait and partly because the artworks themselves can be more persuasive than any spoken words that describe them. I would like to point out that for years Mao Yan has been persistently seeking inward experience, unwilling to make the slightest compromise. This has been his good fortune. His plan has been to concentrate the complexity of man’s existence before subjectively simplifying it. It’s this subjective simplification that gives him his individual values – namely the universalisation of the artist mentioned earlier. In so doing, Mao Yan is able to ease his way along the thoroughfare that leads him onto a bright future.

28 July 2009

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Mao Yan and Thomas

Shu Kewen

Is Mao Yan a spectator or the creator of the portraits he paints? Whilst the portraits are indeed all creations of the artist, Mao Yan remains incredibly distant from his subjects. These paintings neither judge nor please, their story doesn’t stop at a motionless canvas but leads towards an unknown objective. As both narrator and spectator, Mao Yan resides in this same unknown space, shielding himself from passing judgement. The portraits leave us with a peculiar feeling, like the painter is conspiring to lure us in, to join him on his quest for knowledge. The quest is almost never-ending and therein lies the delight of Mao Yan’s portraiture.

Why paint a Caucasian man called Thomas? This question, asked from the perspective of outlandish contemporary art, is quite a surprising one, but the portraits of Thomas do leave a very deep impression. Mao Yan began painting Thomas in 1999 and has since painted almost a hundred portraits of him. In ten years, the painted image of Thomas has changed from being a detailed portrait to being a calm figure with few emotions, essentially a form alone. This form’s existence seems to be hidden away in a distant land and it’s only through Mao Yan’s brush strokes that we can feel its breath. Even then it’s not easy to hold onto and only a peaceful mind is able to pick up on its lingering exhalation.

Before the year Chinablue gave Mao Yan a show, I had doubts about Mao Yan’s creative passion and drive. I felt that he was trying to deal with a lack of artistic confidence by stalling. Mao Yan had graduated from CAFA in 1991, after which he had moved to Nanjing. The years that followed saw Chinese contemporary art go from strength to strength with all forms of artistic expression emerging, but this same time saw Mao Yan’s own self-confidence wither. He began soul-searching, seemingly without a powerful enough drive to express himself, or perhaps without the means. Initially, he felt that so-called individual expression was tasteless but after many years came to realise that expressing anything could cause misconceptions and that all expression could ultimately become assumptive, pretentious and even menacing.

Seemingly, it’s offensive to speak about the problems of contemporary art, whilst discussing the reasons behind it is valued. Defining what contemporary art appears even to be important. As far as Mao Yan is concerned, the problems of art haven’t changed very much, in the end they are all problems that concern people.

Back then, Mao Yan’s portraits were all of his close friends. His sphere of activity was very small at the time, staying within a very small group of people and rarely taking part in local Nanjing life. He was quite removed from the artistic rhythm of Beijing. I asked him at the time if perhaps he wasn’t slightly lazy? Compared to the fast pace of contemporary art, his work rate has always been slow, often with unfinished paintings left stagnant. He politely said to me, “Actually, I’m moved by a lot of things but I question my own expressive ability and desire.” In response, I used the old catchphrase, “But everyone’s an artist.” He agreed with this idea and said that, “Everyone has the right to be an artist but if all they have is the wild urge to express themselves and lack the corresponding esprit, they can end up annoying people, it’s terrible. If their individual perspective lacks a sense of history then it also tends to fall flat.” Along his artistic path, he had not only received artistic training but had also developed a certain reverence for art itself. Antiquated artistic ideals and expectations of art that came from his initial study of drawing thus became his criteria for painting. He didn’t dare give them up and paint freely.

The portraits of his friends from 1996 were to unfold cautiously against this emotional backdrop. All that the names of these portraits revealed was that they were friends of the artist. Whilst they may have had special significance for the artist himself, what information could they provide for the spectator? Are the names in any way descriptive of the paintings? In general the answer is negative. Using Mao Yan’s reasoning, he wanted to keep a certain distance between daily life and his paintings and the only reason he chose to paint his close friends was because they weren’t culturally symbolic and would thus avoid any popular readings of them.

He began to guard against sentimental revelations on purpose, with the hope of shielding individual traits from the canvas as much as possible so that the paintings themselves could flow naturally. Paintings of the time such as Black Rose, Poet, and Friends had such a frosty quality, distanced from their surrounding atmosphere. Extrinsic evidence that could easily evoke emotions such as gestures, the environment, and clothing gradually became less and less important, leaving only very intense psychological elements that formed one after another pure and penetrating works of art.

In 1999, Mao Yan began painting Thomas. Who is Thomas, you might ask? Mao Yan met Thomas at a banquet in 1998, after which they often went out together with friends to have dinner, drink and play football. But Thomas was actually just a tool. At the time, Thomas was just another foreigner that had come to China to study Chinese. Quiet, simple, introverted and without any explicitly pointed expression, to most he wouldn’t have seemed like the most obvious subject for painting. But importantly for Mao Yan, portraits of Thomas’ would allow him to distance himself from expressing unwanted superficial meanings. The interest in painting Thomas was the exact opposite to that of painting personalities. Using a Caucasian man’s image avoided the sentimental reaction easily set off by all too familiar figures and it was the best way of getting rid of the emotional judgement brought about by subjectivity. This allowed Mao Yan to avoid one of contemporary Chinese art’s most serious problems, the so-called ‘Made in China’ concepts and symbols.

This subject has provided Mao Yan with a path to explore his art of painting. Thomas’ serene image is emotionally very cool and in choosing photos of Thomas, Mao Yan always picks out those which are the least expressive, seemingly without feeling at all, in order to achieve the most natural, carefree and least cluttered images possible.

What’s the point of repeatedly painting the same figure for ten years? It might be for the market but one can also find artistic reasons for this, for example to strengthen a concept. Strengthening here signifies a kind of self-confidence or at the very least a belief that the meaning produced by an image needs strengthening. Mao Yan’s need for repetition is down to his own lack of self-confidence, the feeling that he still hasn’t expressed the most profound meaning possible.

This has made Mao Yan’s painting quite fascinating as his canvases continue to become more careful and approach closer the deepest meaning of his imagination. It seems like a revealing process without any ultimate answer. In this process, the colour in Mao Yan’s paintings has become blander, the solidity weaker, and his brush strokes more meticulous. From this we can see a deep commitment to and urgency for solving a problem, but he adopts a slower pace and softer tone to do so. Each and every painting shows control of emotional desire and a wariness of reckless judgement. With the two of these partly conflicting attitudes, a cautious elegance and tenacious sentiment are unexpectedly balanced. Mao Yan has also painted a number of female portraits in this time which also appears to be a form of control. Whilst painting Thomas, he has inserted these occasional erotic portraits in order to regulate himself and avoid any other significance being drawn from his painting.

Mao Yan’s slow repetitive process simulates the day to day development of a living thing. Through the integration of the painted space with historical continuity, each painting represents a path towards knowledge. Mao Yan works hard at his portrait-painting with this aim in mind, at surpassing individual feelings and surpassing the seduction of people through trivial experience.