Artists

I have always been a very sensitive soul. Already from a young age, I taught myself to hide my feelings. I also had a vague understanding that good children would be praised by adults. Ever since I was a small child, I have been told to act obedient, to act “proper”. My journey of growing up was tied in with feelings of faint-heartedness.

I was an obedient child, as I knew that this would win me approval by adults. Those who misbehaved ran the risk of being alienated by adults. The rule was that compliance and conformity would guarantee some sense of security. Adults always judge children on their behaviour. I’ve always considered myself to be an honest person. At school, it was rather difficult for me to be “obedient” since I was not particularly academic and was deemed to be a bit of a slower learner. Obedient children were those who did well in their studies. I was the sort of child who found it difficult to keep up with the rest of the class. Both teachers and exceptional students discriminated against me. Since I wasn’t a good student, I was branded to be disobedient too. Good students knew how to act “proper”. They always had a glorious self-image and strived hard to get close to the organisation. They had a sound understanding and a strong sense of morality, they loved their country and their people, they were always willing to help those who needed it, appearing to be absolutely dutiful in front of the teachers. The boys were all handsome, and the girls all pretty. It was as if they were all clones of one another. I also wanted to get close to the organisation but the organisation did not want me. I loved my country and my people. I was not an ugly person. I also took pity on the helpless, in addition to feeling sorry for myself every time I received a poor mark at school. As a result, I always lacked a sense of security. A person who was not associated with the organisation was branded a dangerous element – an entity capable of causing instability among the student body. Because of this I despised myself. Students who did not perform well could only hope to form loose and scattered groups amongst themselves. They were disregarded as social pariahs. Even the pretty women came across as cheap whores. I recall those state movies in which people were divided into two basic categories: the good-looking, righteous group and the ugly baddies. Whenever I met a good-looking person, I would automatically assume they were a good person. Goodlooks, however, also provoked feelings of inadequacy, as good-looks are often associated with notions of supreme righteousness and integrity, thus making me feel rather small in comparison. When I was still a student, I often came up with ideas that were regarded as filthy, such as the nude bodies of fellow female classmates. These thoughts made me feel dirty, as only bad people would have such immoral thoughts. For this reason, I felt ashamed and developed an inferiority complex for years.

I thought about running away from school, running away from my life, many a time. Sometimes I would imagine I was being kidnapped by extraterrestrial beings from outer space. For as long as I can remember, my behaviour and my thoughts were restrained by a certain force. Nowadays, this restraining force still exerts its interferring influence on me, even at this very precise moment, as I type these words, I cannot shake off the feeling that I’m being watched. I try to fight back and to express what I mean. Although I am very careful to avoid falling into dangerous ground, yet what is danger? “Danger” is simply a concept. It exists in the cultural ecology where I live. During my teens, China started to open its doors and I was lucky to be able to witness and experience the drastic changes that occurred in our society. Now I am an adult, and China has developed into something akin to a well-dressed peasant woman. Cities are now very urbanised. The previous “goodies” and “baddies” have now been reassigned into different social strata and groups. Within the same stratum or group their appearances and behaviour may be very similar; however, there are noticeable differences within each sector. We have entered into an era where independent individuals and the liberalisation of thought are advocated. This will bring with it some degree of excitement, at least for a while, as those who are able to express their own personalities will come forward to present external images that are different from others. Ironically, these extrovert manners suggest the endorsement of similar personalities. The result is that these manners have become a kind of collective symbol for a certain profession or social status. “Personality” is just a passing trend. It’s dangerous to express ones true self since people who are “different” find it difficult to be accepted by society. “Difference” is often written off as “impertinence” and “volatility”. Acting genial is considered to be acceptable behaviour. We all have to surrender our own sense of self, in order to maintain a harmonious state on the surface. In my opinion, we do not need to be “truthful”. Our own self bears no importance. What is important lies in the construction of an external harmony. The central government keeps on telling us: “Stability and unity will hold the country together”. We are all but trapeze artists putting on a similar show. We cannot shake off what we have acquired from our previous lives and through our schooling. Our egos have been negated and neglected since we were children. Even if we do wish to present our true selves, we are only able to express it in obscure and subtle ways. As an insider, I should feel calm and complacent and be able to accept life for what it is. Suppressing my emotions over the years has become part of my nature. My pessimism, however, often drives me to reflect upon myself, forcing me to have rather wretched feelings about myself. My true ego is in constant conflict with myself. My hyper-sensitivity contributes to the very distorted feelings I have in my heart. I feel very dissatisfied about my life. I don’t know whether I should loathe my past or moan about the present. After these numerous internal conflicts I can only feel disappointed with myself. As to the reason for this disappointment, even I couldn’t tell you why.

I live on a piece of land that I love, yet despise. It’s definitely a love-hate relationship. I earn my living as an artist, or a professional painter as they like to call it. People look upon such a profession as part of the small scale peasant production and I couldn’t agree more. Painting gives me enough spiritual support to help me survive as a human being. It pleases me immensely when friends come to visit my studio and describe it as my spiritual haven. Painting relies largely on the artistry of handicrafts. Handicrafts are an extension of ones personal behaviour, which is contrary to that of our technologically dependent society. It exists as a kind of unseen form in a society that moves at great speed. It is more or less able to break away from the constraints of a society. Handicrafts reveal the primitive process of production by hands, by embodying the personal interests of their creator. I am essentially an honest and kind-hearted person, although I am a worker with a slightly negative attitude. The repetitive motions of handicrafts allow me to escape from the present. I feel rather carefree when I am painting. I express my feelings through my paintings – recording, whether intentionally or unintentionally, the impact brought about by the socio-economic changes that occur at a specific moment in time.

My works are produced against the backdrop above. My paintings are a reflection of my present surroundings and to that effect they draw nourishment from it. Painting is influenced by two factors: regions and time. It cannot exist on its own and away from life. I use words to describe my surroundings, in order to explain how it acts as a prerequisite for my paintings. Painting is an expressive act displaying a living state, thus carrying no need for explanation. Painting is an embodiment of the artist’s view of life. Although I often argue that painting has nothing to do with thought, nor with philosophy, emotions, or aestheticism, I still want to produce a painting that is pleasing to the eye. I still want to be able to say something through my works. As a result, my works and my principles behind painting are contradictory. It is hard to communicate a painting through words. Painting is an independent language. It does not need to be explained, nor does it need to provide answers or meanings. Instead paintings contain frozen images, which are used to provide a series of visual exchanges with its viewers. Its expression is vague yet exact. It does not rely on other formats for expression. Its uniqueness lies in its ability to express what would otherwise be difficult to achieve in any other way. I like my paintings to be readable, so I strive to work on a visual structure that can be “grasped” by most viewers. My paintings emphasise form, an echo of the cutural environment I live in, one that stresses conformity and acting “proper”. In my opinion, paintings should emphasise the visual form, as form is the crucial ingredient in the construction of images. It’s my intention to have my paintings look as though they have been carefully designed. I stress visual integrity through my paintings, trying to create a sense of visual comfort and simplicity in order to distinguish from the main theme. People are a recurring theme in my paintings. My concern for man is, in actual fact, a reflection of my concern for myself. My works amalgamate my heart and my life. I think life simply refers to dealings with people. “You”, “me” and “him” are all references to my existence as a human being. I think when man is “elevated” from a species onto the level of “human being”, he or she surrenders their very being to the confinement of the culture cage created by man. My paintings display my consciousness. My internal conflicts and my compassion have roused my fear for the imprisoned soul, and it is my intention for my paintings to carry such a dubious aura.

Chen Yu
3 Nov, 2004