Xu Hongxiang, to me, is a stranger I am most familiar with—just when I think I know him enough, he “shapeshifts” into another person in front of me, which to this date, still makes me hesitate to say that I understand him well. His works adhere to his personality—it takes a while for one to truly appreciate them.

 

We became acquainted many years back at the Central Academy of Fine Art because we were both from the same city. But until he entered graduate school, and before I joined Art Nova 100, our interactions remain scarce. It wasn’t until the selection process for the annual exhibition of Art Nova 100 I first made contact with his art. His name showed up during the review panel, and I thought maybe I can help him out by introducing him to the committee, which might offer them a more comprehensive overview of his art. However, when I went through his portfolio, I realized—aside from merely knowing that he is from Changsha, Hunan Province, and graduated from the Printmaking Department of the Central Academy of Fine Art—I have nothing to say about his art. After all these years, when I look back at that moment, his works remain fresh in my memory. These works came from an experimental series titled “Transplantation of Colors” Xu Hongxiang embarked on during his graduate years, in which he incessantly attempted to disintegrate the presence of images in his art. For this series, the palette of his portraits and other larger compositions have been dissolved, lending his works a disembodied, somehow “grotesque” quality. This is when Xu Hongxiang’s concept of “anti-image” came into being, which we will go into details in a bit. Of course, without learning his artistic background and creative impetus, in addition to his scanty artist biography, these fragmented compositions were even more confusing to viewers. Undoubtedly, his first entry was rejected. Back then, I didn’t realize how much this has “taken a toll” on him.

 

Another year has passed, and ahead of the annual exhibition, I received an invitation to “Consultation,” an exhibition hosted by Xu Hongxiang and his artist group SO. At the then Exhibition Hall of Central Academy of Fine Art, it was the first time seeing his works up close for me. When he passionately talked about his creative concept in front of his paintings and sketches, I was enlightened and has so much more appreciation over him. These fragmented figures and scenes suddenly appeared concrete and discernable before my eyes. Behind these works are Xu Hongxiang’s tireless experiments and meditations over “anti-image” during his graduate years. This time (2012) he was finally admitted because of his preparation.

 

Like most art students, before determining what he wants and how to achieve it, Xu Hongxiang went also through a “rebellious phase,” during which his approach was anti-tradition and anti-easel painting.     Due to his yearning to create art without any restrain, he enrolled in the Department of Printmaking. The openness and experimental approach of the department offered him the unique environment that allowed him to “mess around.” He was no longer fettered by any mode in his artistic practice. He worked with a variety of mediums and techniques, employing readymade images or unorthodox, handmade tools, and incorporating all sorts of materials within his reach in his practice. Amidst such environment, Xu Hongxiang immersed himself in the artistic freedom that allowed him to experiment with mediums such as watercolor, acrylic, and oil. In the end, his early passion for painting encouraged him to return to easel painting. Beginning with the imageries he collected, after experimenting with them repeatedly, he arrived at his style, which was to sketch directly on canvas the images he picked and then dissolving or removing part of the images selectively. This process informed the foundation of his artistic phases in the future. Xu Hongxiang, who appears to be a rather reserved person, speaks of his creative process in a clear, eloquent manner. His artistic creation since 2009, after his graduate years, can be roughly divided into three phases. The first phase explores the question of “what is left after the disappearance of an image?” In my opinion, it could be seen as a process of simplification. During this phase, he was more interested in what the explorations and attempts that came along with this new method could offer him?” In this way, Xu Hongxiang slow transitioned into the second phase. His works from this period mainly contemplated “the disappearance of an image that gives rise to the formation of another image.” In short, this is his so-called “Transplantation of Colors” phase, which is to slowly dissolve one image while painting another related—or opposite—image on the negative space with the paint that melted down from the original image—an abstract process that sounds almost like a scientific experiment. In Meat—a typical experimental work from this phase, the center of the composition appears to be the contour of a man standing in front of a row of pork meat hanging in a butcher’s stall, where most details around this figure left unpainted. Xu Hongxiang deliberately removes most parts of the man’s corporeality, while he diffuses the paint that delineates the pork meat, revealing only the important details. At the same time, the diffused paint seems to slip away from the pork meat into other negative spaces on the canvas, transforming into the limb and physiognomy of the human figure. Such pictorial switcheroo vibrantly manifested the artist’s desire to inject subjective expression and traces of hand into objective compositions as means to upend the preexisting balance in his paintings. He extensively ponders and insists on such “concepts” from this phase to this date.

 

During the transition from the second phase into the third phase, Xu Hongxiang’s personal life also underwent significant changes. Around the same year, he moved back to Changsha, Hunan with his wife for their unborn baby. Returning to his hometown, he operated more diligently—perhaps the heat of Changsha fueled his works of this period with passion and a sense of ferocity while inspiring him to work with larger compositions. Describing his time in Changsha, he was either working furiously in his studio or he would go with his friends to the countryside and the mountains to conduct different experiments about “Meat” and other subjects related to it. He couldn’t even hide his excitement about his time there when we talked about it. And witnessing the images he sent to me turning into different works, it is not hard to imagine how much he enjoyed such a state of “barbaric growth.” Persisting and Stubborn—during this period, the typical traits of Hunanese were all vividly reflected in Xu Hongxiang’s works. Before this, Xu Hongxiang has always been insisting on his obsession with “meat,” and he was never able to depict or express such subjects to their full extent. This sojourn in his hometown warranted him to pursue this “dream” with his undivided attention.  Xu Hongxiang produced a large body of works that drastically departs from his previous style. The birth of his daughter also prompted him to further contemplate the meaning and continuity of life. His attitude towards art became more composed and personal, granting him even more freedom over his practice. Embodying this altitude, his compositions no longer consist of merely dissolved figures or scenes but rather a balance of both elements. His figures occupied more pictorial spaces, the composition became layered, and his subjects were more discernable. He commanded his dissolving technique on color and the relationship between objectivity and subjectivity in his composition with much more dexterity. After a year of “barbaric growth,” he returned to Beijing with an abundance of new works, and continued with his meditation over the “painterliness” of his works—should he continue his exploration on dissolving and sketching techniques, or should he just move on to explore the hierarchy between these two? Naturally, his painting entered the third phase: colliding objective, realistic images with a subjective painterly approach. Amidst the preparation for this solo exhibition, Xu Hongxiang also got to sort out his thoughts. In his recent works, the trace of images being dissolved has been reducing gradually and replaced by sketching/drawing. One can’t even discern the traces of dissolved images in some of the recent works. This shift originated from the fact that his painting style has progressively garnered more attention and recognition. This liberated his creative approach and also expanded his repertoire. Nonetheless, be it human or landscape he is depicting, they are all his rumination over the relationship between human and nature, or between the memory of body and mind. The depicted subjects all came from Xu Hongxiang’s contemplation over his life. Although they are all painted/expressed in various ways, all of them exude his unique temperament.

 

During our conversation, Xu Hongxiang often insists on how much he cares about the “painterliness” (e.g., “how to paint” or “how to make his paintings more interesting?”) of his works. Within these exchanges, we reached a consensus that how to painting (method) is more important than what to paint (content). Painting is not only about telling a story by way of images, nor confined by any straightforward narrative structure, but instead, it should possess a certain degree of conceptuality and painterliness. The amazing thing about art is that, through artwork, one can capture a vital kind of creativity and intimately experience the artist’s imagination. The artist constructs a kind of dimension that departs from our everyday life, which inspires one’s passion for life that nourishes and nurtures one’s soul. Great art should be able to achieve all the qualities mentioned above.

 

Since the dawn of his creative career, because of his education in printmaking, Xu Hongxiang has always insisted on the importance of procedure in both his personal life and practice. The momentum between each step should not be disrupted, and he can always develop freely while adhering to such uniformity. Let us look forward to how the skinny—yet energetic—Xu Hongxiang continues to grow rationally—yet barbarically.

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[1] ”Barbaric Growth”l—a Chinese term that implies for things growing in a “rapid, wild, and uncontrollable way.” The translation here is quite literally but fits better into the context of the artist’s practice—experimental and unpredictable.