“The forest was a fairy tale and I, as I was going along, was like the wanderer in the fairy tale. There was an infinity of peace and quietness! Wandering in this vast, neat, and solemn world, what a kingly enjoyment it is. The twilight is sinking and the sunset is scintillating. In my eyes, everything is like a poem, an ancient and beautiful poem, a poem that is eternally fresh and moving."

 

Looking at the works of Xu Hongxiang, they conjure up sceneries from the writings of the Swiss writer Robert Walser, in which one appreciates the surrounding landscape during the walk, savoring life in serenity. 

Every stroll is a poetic sojourn.  Everyone walks this precious earth. 

 

Unlike the cynical approach of the post-70s generation, artists born after the 1980s often incorporate a sense of disorientation and melancholy and their acute observation of the surrounding reality in their works. In the recent series In the Landscape, Xu Hongxiang unfolds his creative practice around painting, a practice constituted by two parallel operations: project-based series with narratives and oils centered on the landscape. “Image,” “body,” and “the relationship between painting and reality” have been the recurring themes the artist repeatedly attempted to explore and address through his multi-media painting projects over the years, while the vibrantly colored, highly stylized paintings shown here offer a glimpse into those projects. 

 

Marked by their exuberant pictorial vitality, early works such as In the Field, Li Qiang, and Mulianchong appear to be a series of subversive experiments that find their origin within field research and rural interventions. In this exhibition, intimately scaled works take the stage—The Poet, Three Rocks, Under the Tree, and The Sun Has Nothing to Do with Middle-Aged Men, created during a residency in Melbourne, reflecting his sentiment towards life and nature. Upon his return to China, Xu produced a series of new works—Wander, Wander (Seven Dogs), Golden River, and Living by Night No.1—that adhere to his exploratory altitude while introducing an in-depth contemplation of the essence of things. The narrative elements in Xu’s mode blend nature and humanity harmoniously, exuding a relaxing, carefree spirit. These paintings are characterized by their use of natural sceneries, human figures, and animals. For Xu Hongxiang, the alienation he experienced during the residency tormented him, as his life and creations owe immensely to communication and emotional exchange with others. After returning to a familiar environment, Xu loosened up naturally, which reflected in his practice—carefree, effortless, and organic. 

 

This passage reminds me of “Praxis,” or “Practical Philosophy,” which Hegel developed upon Kant’s theory of Practical Philosophy. Hegel favored the dialectical method to analyze people’s practical activities to achieve unity between the objective and subjective or through the application and examination of praxis theories. Though “Praxis” dates back to ancient Greek, it was understood as an everyday, basic concept. Theory and practice are relative. Practical Philosophy focuses on human activities and problems revolving around people’s day-to-day life—an ever-shifting concept. Through practice, experience, and participation, Xu Hongxiang casts aside his previous creative mode, entering the realm of Practical Philosophy from the theoretical aspect of art. This shift transcends his paintings beyond their material attributes, shedding light on human beings, nature, and animals, which, of course, includes himself and the surrounding us. As his works become increasingly emotive, he is liberated from the constraint of literature and philosophy. This newly obtained sense of clarity is perhaps why Xu Hongxiang feels carefree at the moment.