Artists

In Search of A Dream

Since I graduated in 1994, I have had two solo exhibitions at Schoeni Art Gallery. Now my third exhibition is coming up soon. Ten years seems such a long time, but it has flashed by like a movie montage. Maybe I have been daydreaming in my paintings without realizing the passage of time. The greatest satisfaction for me during this period was that as I finished each painting, I wrapped it up carefully with xuan paper and leaned it against the wall. The growing pile of paintings gave me an enormous sense of achievement.

Now, as the paintings are again being taken away for my next exhibition, I have a feeling of sadness and loss.

After the xuan paper has been removed, the paintings are laid out one by one, unfolding like scenery. They are my dreams and I know each one of their stories. I also remember my feelings as I painted each one of them.

Nearly every painting involves the same experience – an old photo, an overgrown courtyard, a small bridge in a town by the canals, blinds in an old house, xiangfei bamboo in ancient paintings – they stimulate all kinds of thoughts in my mind. So I make sketches to try and capture the faint shadows. Using these sketches as a basis, I try to feel and imagine the scene; and I keep making changes and adjustments until gradually the indistinct shadows become focused and visible.

Finally the painting is ready for detailed brushwork. It is a joyful experience for me when the first layer of colours is applied and I am eager to see the picture emerging. However, as I paint more details, more problems also arise. Every painting has its own style and feeling. An ornamental one requires a heavy application of rich colours. A simple, elegant one requires an emphasis on feeling and the slightest touch of colours. A sunny one needs bold brushstrokes to express passion. A classical one requires restrained brushstrokes to achieve consistent colour tones. If the use of artistic vocabulary does not match the feeling, it will be difficult to communicate with these paintings, they will be lifeless and dull and this will upset me terribly. I try to put myself into the paintings and feel the surroundings in them in order to search for the most perfect spiritual dream world, experiencing both the joy and sadness of the place. I continue to make changes to the paintings as I search for a way to communicate with them.

Sometimes it is a shaft of sunlight coming through the door; or perhaps an open window; a long winding corridor; far-off rivers or hazy mountains in the distance. They provide new ideas in the painting as well as opening up a door that leads me to the dream world.

Shuai Mei
January 2004