Since the beginning of the twentieth century, due to the profound changes that
modern Chinese society has undergone, and to the ever-increasing influence of
Western culture, traditional Chinese painting has entered a period of upheaval
and transformation. In recent times there have been a number of artists who have
repudiated the history of Chinese painting, including Wu Changshuo, Qi Baishi,
Huang Binhong, Gao Jianfu, Lin Fengmian, Pan Tianshou, and Li Keran—artists who
have, one after another, been on the vanguard of the transformation of Chinese
art, and have become acknowledged as masters in their own right, worthy of being
ranked with the greatest painters of all time. Unfortunately, the momentum they
initiated in the development of Chinese ink painting, moving it more towards a
style that emphasized realistic influences and the qualities of the painting
itself, became twisted and suffocated by the policies and ideologies of
ultraleftism, to the extent that in the early 1980s there emerged a discourse of
the “decline and fall” of traditional Chinese painting. Thanks to China’s
policies of reform and to the advancing course of change in Chinese society,
modern Chinese painting, influenced by Western modernism, has continued to
germinate and develop new ideas and innovations. In the late 20th and early 21st
centuries, modern abstract Chinese ink painting has sprung up like a flower in
early spring, heralding the emergence of a new and vibrant landscape in
contemporary Chinese painting.
Shi Tao once said, “brush and ink should follow the times”. Throughout the
history of painting, every great master has had his own individual creative
style, but has also had to stand on the shoulders of the giants of his own age.
Lu Yanshao, master of the traditional style of Chinese painting and teacher to
Wong Kin I, in describing his own artistic development, has said that in his
early years he worked in the style of Song-Yuan traditions; in midlife he moved
more towards painting from life and towards an emphasis on the expressiveness of
the ink itself, especially through judicious juxtapositions of ink and blank
space—a change that was not unrelated to his interest in Western painting and
his frequent interactions with Western painters. Later, Lu saw the modernist
works of Zhao Wuji and Liu Guosong; although he was not wholly converted to this
new style, something in his heart was moved by it, and in his later years Master
Lu also tried his hand at a few abstract Chinese ink landscapes. From this
account of one painter’s career, we can see how art develops out of the dynamic
interplay between outside influences and the artist’s own internal responses to
them. What is especially worthy of reflection, however, is the development of
the career paths of Lu Yanshao’s most outstanding students, Gu Wenda, Zhuo Hejun
and Wong Kin I. Gu Wenda caused quite a sensation and earned widespread fame for
his work in the 1985 New Wave movement; Zhuo Hejun’s abstract landscapes
established a unique style of their own; and although Wong Kin I’s presence in
the Chinese art world was somewhat diminished by his long years of residence in
Macao, his large abstract splash ink paintings have gained an impressive
reputation at international art exhibitions in Macao, and since Macao’s return
to Chinese administration in 1999, he has shown his works at a series of
exhibitions in mainland China. How is it, we may ask, that three of the most
outstanding students of a traditional Chinese painting master would,
independently but simultaneously, all move towards a modern transformation of
Chinese painting? This fact in itself indicates that the “traditional” and the
“modern” are hardly contradictory or mutually exclusive concepts.
Nowadays there are many people who believe that traditional brush and ink is the
greatest model for the transformation of contemporary modern Chinese painting;
this generally refers to the concepts of “brush and ink” carried forward from
the Yuan, Ming and Qing periods. Broadly speaking, Yuan/ Ming/Qing theories of
brush and ink, initiated by Zhao Mengfu of the Yuan dynasty and canonized by
Dong Qichang of the Ming, emphasized brushwork (yongbi) and the use of the brush
to harness the ink; in other words, it privileged brushwork technique over ink
wash (yongmo) technique. But in fact, brushwork and ink wash techniques should
be considered both inseparable and distinct. Jing Hao, of the Five Dynasties
period (907-960 C.E.), in his essay “A Note on the Art of the Brush” (Bifa Ji),
wrote that the ultimate goal of ink painting should be to “distinguish higher
and lower [parts of objects] with a gradation of ink tones, and represent
clearly shallowness and depth, making them appear natural as if they had not
been done with a brush.” In other words, brushwork can of course give shape to
the ink wash, but some ink wash effects cannot be achieved through brushwork:
for example, the paintings done by Tang dynasty painter Wang Qia, with his
signature “splash ink” method, are stylistically very different from those done
with the brushwork approach. Jing Hao also points out that Tang dynasty painter
Xiang Rong, in his landscapes, “attained the secret of mysterious truth only
through the use of ink wash,” and “had no ‘bone’ in his brushwork.” However,
this technique of using only ink wash to “attain the secret of mysterious truth”
was lost, due to the emphasis placed on brushwork by later generations of
artists such as Zhao and Dong.
If we speak of “brush-and-ink” as a single technique, then its most important
characteristic is indeed that the brush gives form to the ink; but if instead we
examine “brush” and “ink” separately, I believe we may say that good brushwork
technique is very exacting, while good ink wash technique is more free flowing.
Because brushwork requires such precise control, painters must practice
incessantly; many painters continue practicing well into old age, and are
virtual prisoners to their discipline, finding it difficult to achieve
breakthroughs in technique. Because ink wash technique is more free-flowing, it
has a degree of randomness about it: it thus requires constant experimentation
and analysis, the accumulation of experience, and at the same time a willingness
to accept the bitter taste of defeat; it depends on the artist’s talent for
perception. In Chinese painting, brushwork emphasizes the truth of the essence
expressed in the work of art, while ink wash techniques emphasize its illusory
quality. Of course brushwork and ink wash techniques can complement each other;
truth and illusion can transform each other. In works by the most accomplished
brushwork masters, there is bound to be illusion at the heart of the truth
traced out by the brush-tip. Similarly, when an artist is well-versed in
brushwork techniques, even if he or she uses ink wash with no brush at all, the
purity of the essence expressed in the work will not be compromised in the
least; if from time to time a large surface of splashed ink is broken by even
the faintest trace of a brushstroke, there is the pursuit of truth in the
illusion, which serves only to deepen the profundity of the work. When I look at
Wong Kin I’s abstract splash ink paintings, I am always impressed by his ability
to control the ink—its density and flow, its depth and shallowness—so subtly and
effortlessly that in the undulations and metamorphoses of the ink, viewers can
experience something profound and contemplative, something of the ineffable.
Such ability is truly something to ponder.
As I mentioned above, the twentieth century has been one of transformation for
traditional Chinese painting. If we group Wu Changshuo, Qi Baishi, Huang Binhong,
Gao Jianfu, Lin Fengmian, Pan Tianshou, Li Keran and their colleagues together
as the “first wave” of the modern transformation of traditional Chinese
painting, it is clear that from the height of their activity and influence to
the present day, there has been a significant decline. To my mind, the “second
wave” of the modern transformation of Chinese painting has only begun sending up
its first tender shoots in the late 20th century and the beginning of this one.
The difference between these two eras is that the transformations wrought by the
“first wave” still tended towards a realistic, figurative style, and were more
concerned with the representativeness of the work, while the transformations
brought about by the “second wave,” in contrast, have tended more towards a
surreal, abstract style, more concerned with the manipulation and expressiveness
of the media. The former trend was towards exactitude in representing an image;
the latter, towards freedom in expressing a feeling. At present, the “second
wave” still cannot compare to the first wave in the depth and breadth of its
influence; but in terms of the power and subtlety of the transformation (the
former is easier to speak of than the latter), it already appears that the
“second wave” has broad prospects for development.
We need not hesitate to admit that the transformations of Chinese art in the
modern and contemporary periods, be they of the “first wave” or of the second,
have come to pass under the catalyzing influence of Western culture. The first
wave derived inspiration from classical Western painting styles, while the
second wave has benefited from the experiences of Western modernist painters.
The question remains, however, as to whether or not these transformations will
be able stand their ground in the thriving forest of ethnic Chinese cultural
production. The answer will depend largely on the depth each individual artist’s
identification with Chinese culture. One reason that the masters of reform in
the earlier generation were able to create such a stir, aside from their spirit
of tireless commitment to innovation and change, was because they maintained a
strong underlying sense of their own cultural foundations. The relative
inferiority of some modern ink painters of today, by contrast, is due at least
in part to their insufficient sense of the cultural foundations that underpin
the transformations they advocate. As a result of this insufficiency, the power
of their work is diminished.
It is in this regard that Wong Kin I is particularly gifted. He was one of Lu
Yanshao’s favourite graduate students. He was from the outset a talented painter
of traditional Chinese landscape paintings. With this as his foundation, his
splash ink works are indisputably modern, yet simultaneously Asian, with a
strong underlying sense of tradition as well. His works indicate that the
development of modern Chinese ink painting may yet still have attractive
prospects; and although the load is heavy and the way is long, I believe Wong
Kin I will always welcome this challenge. He will most certainly continue to
follow this exploratory road he has led us down, with ever more splendid
results.
Shu Shijun
Winter 2003, Shanghai
Shu Shijun—One of
China’s leading art historians and theorists, assistant editor of the journal
Duoyun: Research into Chinese Painting, and of Books and Paintings (Shuyuhua)
magazine. He has published numerous collections of essays on Chinese ink
painting, and in 2002, he organized an exhibition entitled “Works by Coastal
Chinese Ink Painters” in Macao. 《海上水墨畫家展》
