Wang Yi: When Painting Becomes an Endeavor

Wang Yi, National Arts, March 22, 2015

 

When Painting Becomes an Endeavor

Written by Wang Yi

 

today's art world is gradually diminishing from our reach. In this era, persisting in painting has become a considerably challenging task.

 

People always desire to see more and more; bigger and bigger; stranger and stranger works. However, the frenzy driven by the market is fleeting, and after the illusion dissipates, painters must return to their canvases. Painting is an activity that emphasizes tactile sensation, and I still believe in the old adage that "good things come to those who wait." Regardless of how a piece of artwork ultimately appears before our eyes, it should always gradually emerge from the delicate dialogue between the artist and the canvas. Nowadays, in terms of sheer volume, the decreased visibility of painted works seems to have become an irreversible outcome. However, in every era, there resides a group of contrarians who, against the current, fiercely protect something that may be destined to perish yet remains profoundly valuable.

 

Aristotle once stated, "The end of the best practice is the practice itself." For a practitioner, there could be no greater encouragement or reward than this. However, sometimes I feel that painters often engage in their craft as a means rather than for any particular end. This is because the process of painting, shaped through the repetitive combination of gestures and actions, is what captivates me the most. This might also be considered as a form of repetitiveness formed through continual labor. The feeling experienced when the brush touches the canvas cannot be replaced by any other medium; it resembles an intensely personal form of prayer, personal cultivation, or even asceticism. Painting may eventually become a niche and deeply personal "art," yet it will remain exquisitely incomparable.

 

It may well be feasible that "the purpose of the finest painting is the painting itself." Personally, while I have no intention of reinstating the exalted status of painting, I still believe that the very act of creating a painting is meaningful in itself. Although it might seem like an exercise in futility, and even though this repetitive ritualistic act and solitary scholarly pursuit may appear to others as an unnecessary adherence, it holds significance. Agnes Martin perpetually painted her small grids, long ones, square ones, gold and white, tirelessly enjoying the process; Qiu Zhijie wrote the "Orchid Pavilion" thousands of times on rice paper until the paper turned into ink sheets; Roman Opalka spent a lifetime painting numbers while recording the process with a phonograph, with the numbers getting longer, the colors fading, and the voice aging. These seemingly obsessive behaviors are, in the context of art, completely rational, and such relentless effort is almost akin to a form of spiritual practice.

 

Contemporary or avant-garde art refers to the heightened, profound, and incisive awareness that we, as art practitioners, should possess regarding issues of our era. At this moment, we are meant to use ourselves as instruments to identify and, where possible, resolve these issues. Any individuals who are currently labeled as irreconcilable or heretical zealots are, in fact, the brave souls who step forward to stand at the forefront of the age, weathering the storm on our behalf. They suggest methods to continue the practice of painting, methods that might appear radically different or even contradictory to each other, but essentially transform painting into an endeavor that ensures its existence and continuity. Speaking for myself, I have a particular affinity for minimalism. This preference stems from minimalism's emphasis on premeditated design of artwork, allowing the outcomes to be largely predictable. That is to say, once the final form of the artwork emerges, it is definitive—the purity, proportion, and placement of each color block are the result of the artist’s deep reflection and deliberation. 

 

The "details" in minimalist art pervade every aspect of its conception and presentation, with every part of the canvas constituted by "rule-filled" details. However, these details are also highly personalized, largely determined by the aesthetic experience of the artist themselves, and they do not reflect the accidental characteristics of painting that may arise from uncertainties inherent in the production process. On one hand, the details in minimalist art often derive from the characteristics of the materials composing the painting or sculpture, which are greatly emphasized and manifest differently depending of how they are used (as seen in the works of Frank Stella and Donald Judd); on the other hand, they result from the disparities in arrangements and decisions that stem from the artist's distinct "director's consciousness.” Minimalism emphasizes the materiality and the process of production. Although it appears minimal in its outward presentation, it is abundant in its interior complexity. "What you see is what you see," Frank Stella famously declared, yet the surface often encompasses much more.

 

Cold abstract painting continues certain elements of minimalism, evolving into an art form that is purely visual, best reflecting the artist's will. With a serious demeanor and precise formality, it adopts a method of "selective restraint" to emphasize the inherent elements of painting itself; it opposes the improvisational style of abstract expressionism and the pop art approach that blurs the boundaries between pure art and life. Cold abstraction is an inevitable development in the evolution of abstract art and may well be considered the last school within the proverbial ivory tower of painting. Consequently, it demands a higher level of cultivation from the artist, necessitating a highly professional and personalized, yet cohesive creative system. Importantly, it requires the artist's relentless commitment to research and creation. Artists may experiment with various styles, but once they embark on restrained, rational experimentation, it is unlikely that they will shift to a contradictory path.

 

Cold abstraction represents a pathway towards pure visuality and absolute form. At the same time, due to its inherent characteristics (eschewing figuration in favor of exploring thoroughly simple forms), this path is inevitably narrower, longer, and more arduous. Some argue that cold abstraction and minimalism ceased to evolve beyond the 1970s, but as a practitioner "on the road," I am convinced that "this path" still harbors countless possibilities waiting to be discovered. For while tangible entities will one day vanish, the path of pure painting practice is surely everlasting.

 

In the postmodern context, the boundaries of specific artistic movements have blurred, leading to a diversification of artistic practices. Minimalism is no longer confined to cold abstract paintings on canvas; it is also evident in the works of young artists who adhere to minimalist principles in sculpture, installation, and public art. Postmodernity resists categorization, largely because artistic directions are exceedingly variable. The coexistence of different forms of expression enables artists to simultaneously utilize various mediums within the same period (as seen in the works of Gerhard Richter). This is not necessarily a negative phenomenon, as no single movement can monopolize the artistic avant-garde. Cold abstract art, too, displays a trend towards globalization, becoming a potential outcome for all artists. Though the contemporary artistic ecosystem may seem chaotic, it is fertile ground for ushering in a new century, a forthcoming era reminiscent of a "hundred schools of thought." Although the path might appear narrow, from another perspective it is replete with possibilities, albeit artists may no longer form associations based on specific styles. They stand independently at the forefront, each completing their work as an "individual." "One" is synonymous with the whole, and the whole with "one"; cold abstract art may be just a minuscule detail in the history of art's evolution, but overall, it represents a product of human rational thinking and restraint—an aspiration and a blessing for the field of painting.

 

Thus, painting becomes a minor contest, a sanctuary for zealots. Rothko remarked, "Painting should be a miracle," and art was endowed with an unprecedented sublimity, becoming a ritualistic entity. Painting satisfies human desires for creation and conquest, akin to molding clay figures. It is an experience brought about by the "hand," providing a tangible sense of reassurance through physical touch, and it invokes a call from the body to the soul. Today, many people like to discuss the "tradition of painting." However, the tradition of painting should not simply refer to the newness or oldness of style—being reminiscent of Raphael from the Renaissance does not necessarily define tradition, nor does resembling Tuymans straightforwardly modernize it. I believe that the so-called "tradition of painting" refers to the perpetuation of painting as an ancient and serious ritualistic act. Currently, art, particularly painting, is becoming ever more expansive, like ripples spreading from a stone thrown into a pond. Consequently, the image of art is simultaneously blurred and extended, as if there are too many tasks awaiting the artists. Sometimes, it is crucial to attempt the seemingly impossible, and at other times to refrain from the feasible. Perhaps in two centuries, the act and process of painting might be viewed by people as a form of performance art or experimental theater, potentially evolving into a new avant-garde trend.

 

 

王一 《地点2015-3》布面综合材料 190x190cm 2014-2015

 

 

王一 《地点2015-1》布面综合材料 140x140cm 2015

 

王一 《地点2015-2》布面综合材料 140x140cm 2015

 

 

 

王一 《地点2014-10(中枢),no.3 布面综合材料 2014

 

INTERVIEW

N: National Arts

W: Wang Yi

 

N: You have transitioned from figurative to semi-abstract, and then from semi-abstract to purely formal (cold abstract). What prompted this creative transformation?

 

W: For me, it feels like a natural evolution. Initially, it may have been a weariness of the purely mimetic naturalistic approach, a feeling that the composition should not rely solely on specific images to be valid. Visually, representational elements are often more readily accepted, but they are also more prone to fade and to be transcended. I believe questioning and beginning to simplify and strip away representational elements marks a divergence in painting. I wanted my work to embody a universally present state, something constant and serene. Thus, I painted depopulated rooms using a disciplined approach, then gradually dissolved the concrete space, retaining only the essential elements that form the skeletal structure of the spaces, transforming them into a kind of semi-abstract painting with geometric, hard edges. Employing a modular structure in a repetitive, interlocking manner, I sought to represent the relationship between abstract pictorial structures and real social structures. Following this approach, I reconstructed the composition, treating the structure of the composition itself as the subject to be elaborated upon, while experimenting with the use of transparent materials. Now, the layered technique in my compositions is akin to compressing the space created by painting gestures and the time consumed into a single plane, as if storing energy in a spring.

 

G: You mentioned the use of transparent materials, which indeed has been a delightful surprise in your paintings. What inspired you to incorporate transparent pigments in your creations?

 

W: My initial use of transparent colors stemmed from reflections on the "glazing technique" used in classical oil painting. I studied classical painting in university, but in reality, including myself, everyone used the direct painting method, and no longer engaged in the meticulous and slow crafting of images. I later realized that the allure of classical painting for me was not in the lifelike, intricate details, but rather in the sense of clear and penetrating air achieved by the continual layering of seemingly transparent colors. Due to modern techniques, painters no longer need to make their own pigments, and the time required to complete a work has significantly shortened, making art increasingly akin to a consumer good. Yet, compared to the easily achieved bold effects, I remain fascinated by the slower, handcrafted process. Although my paintings appear calm, premeditated, and even considered mechanically produced, different viewing distances evoke different visual experiences. From afar, you might strongly perceive the dynamic tension of the colors, leading many to assume these are printed or that I directly used pre-mixed pure colors. However, upon closer inspection of my works, subtle brushstrokes begin to emerge, and you will discover that those vivid and aggressive colors are the product of dozens of layers of almost colorless layers built up repeatedly.

 

The initial dazzling and stimulating impression transforms into a feeling of delicate caress, the illusion of rapid production replaces the accumulated time, and what seems to be a precisely mechanized (machine-made) image is in fact an imperfectly crafted (hand-made) artifact. These contradictions create a powerful visual impact and psychological disparity; on the other hand, transparency itself encompasses more states. Viewing a single layer offers a diminished color perception, yet when nearly a hundred meticulous layers overlap, the true nature of the colors emerges. I am passionate about this concept of the "one" and the "whole," the relationship between the individual and society, where the thin "one" inconsequentially dissolves within the dense "whole," yet when all the "ones" are gone, the "whole" no longer exists; the "one," though minute, constitutes the "whole," and the "whole," though vast, relies on the "one"; the one is the whole, and the whole is the one.

 

G: Viewing your artworks inevitably brings to mind the term "rationality." How do you perceive the role of rationality and emotion in artistic creation?

 

W: I believe that rationality and emotion in creation are interconnected—Malevich could not have been purely rational, nor Kandinsky purely emotional. In my works, rationality and emotion exhibit a relationship of the visible and the hidden, and they alternate throughout the production process. The initial overall impression might be an emotional outburst, but as I begin to construct and realize it, I undergo a predominantly rational process, though managing the predetermined composition and the final outcome sometimes revolves back to emotion. When setting up the structure of the piece, I use rulers and masking tape, which makes my paintings appear unlike traditional paintings; meanwhile, the use of wool brushes for applying color and the manual traces and accumulated pigments at the edges draw the viewer back, reminding them that it is still a painting. I think that rationality, fostering independent thought, should more profoundly reflect the artist's consciousness within the artwork. I am still early on this path, and for me, rationality also acts as a kind of protection that helps sustain my art longer. Emotion is momentary, while rationality is selective; a calm observation reveals more issues and possibilities.

 

G: As you once mentioned, "Any of these paintings can be viewed as an individual entity or as part of a larger collective." Your painting has gradually developed a personal style while continuously challenging itself. I am curious, how would you introduce your own work to us if asked to describe it?

 

W: I aim to employ a method as simple and direct as possible to construct a complex plane, although the final effect of the painting may appear calm and even mechanized. Nonetheless, I persist in using a traditional approach to painting. I typically limit myself to using only 2-3 colors per painting (usually primary colors or similar hues), which I mix into transparent paints. Through a labor-intensive process, these are layered tens or even hundreds of times on the same plane, enriching the composition with what initially are just a few elements. My paintings usually appear as two works juxtaposed. Each painting is a unit and simultaneously acts like a hub linking the previous and subsequent paintings. Each piece carries forward ideas from the preceding artwork while subtly introducing new variations in the next. They serve as both clues and outcomes to each other.

 

I tend to focus more on the relationships within the painting itself rather than overt concepts, such as changes in structure and the layering of colors. Abstract painting differs from representational painting in that, in the latter, when there is a concrete image for reference, artists portray the information of the object through various expression techniques akin to sculpting or collage work, both of which generally derive from and result in tangible forms. The concept functions as the backbone of a painting, often invisible, akin to a seemingly silent iceberg. Within abstract painting, there are imageries, sometimes distilled and abstracted from objects as feelings or experiences. The perceptual sources of both abstract and representational art are rooted in reality. Professors Yu Youhan and Ding Yi have profoundly influenced my creative work. Although their styles diverge significantly, their works continuously respond to current conditions and evolve. Their creations, whether rational or subtly connected to the societal context, along with their attitudes toward art, command my deep respect.

 

Painting is inherently a visual-dominant medium; abstract painting, in particular, visualizes an "intangible" entity, transmitting messages through meaningful forms. In this respect, I greatly admire Olafur Eliasson for his manipulation of perception, especially in terms of vision and space. In front of his works, the individual "you" seems to merge into the artwork, reinforcing the idea that effective painting first captivates through the eyes. Vision itself also represents a form of conceptual imagery. As a manifestation of conceptual art, new abstract painting embodies conceptual visualization through structures and symbols, as well as through materials and methods of production. I strive to use multilayered color structures to represent the structures of real life, expressing the relationships between experience and reality, the individual and society, the singular and the collective. I hope to evoke in viewers standing before the painting, sensations and impacts akin to those experienced within the vastness of society, while also prompting a reflection on our current social circumstances.

 

G: Could you share with us your plans for this year?

 

W: This year, I plan to participate in two group exhibitions themed on abstraction, and perhaps organize a solo exhibition at the end of the year. I aim to continue advancing and experimenting further! I aspire to enhance my painting system from various aspects.

 

 

王一 《地点2013-15》布面综合材料 40x50cm 2013

 

王一 《地点2013-14》布面综合材料 40x50cm 2013

 

 

王一 《地点2013-18》布面综合材料 40x50cm 2013

 

 

王一 《地点 13-913-10(皇冠大厅)》 布面综合材料 2x150x200cm 2013

 

 

王一 《地点 2014-12(边界)》 布面综合材料 160x160cm 2014

 

 

王一 《地点2014-3》布面综合材料 120x120cm 2014

 

 

王一作品展出现场

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