The Harshness of Youth

Yin Zhaoyang, an alumnus of the Central Academy of Fine Arts who graduated in 1996, faced a changing landscape unlike the 1980s. With China’s entry into the globalisation wave post-1990, the art market experienced a significant surge. The 1993 Venice Biennale showcased Chinese contemporary art, positioning it as a vital component of the Asian art scene and integrating it into the global art market dialogue.

Yin delved into the China of the 1990s with his unique The Harshness of Youth paintings, presenting a stark contrast to the bustling international backdrop. Curator Cui Cancan discerned a profound link between Yin’s works and Expressionism. In the exhibition Reimagining Ideals, Cui noted, ‘In 1995, at 25, Yin created a Floral (《花卉》) masterpiece, its colours dazzling and strokes quivering, as if channelling the spirits of Van Gogh and Munch.’ Expressionists viewed these colours and forms as keys to unlocking the secret gardens of the psyche.

Cui touched insightfully upon the distinctive method in Yin’s work: he navigates through crossroads, continuously discarding once-cherished but now untenable motifs. This approach, reminiscent of Morandi’s secretive process, is a quiet confession among Expressionists. In the ever-shifting balance that is hard to articulate, Yin moves away from original motifs, drawing nearer to the essence of the soul.

In the eyes of Situationists, eras are mere illusions spawned by concepts, and an artist’s task invariably begins with crafting these illusions. Yin’s methodology is one of immersion, floating through the dreamlike mirages of the era. He embodies a spontaneous bravery to face the times squarely. His The Harshness of Youth paintings lay bare the stark confrontation between the rawness of life and the systemic surges of globalisation. Reflecting on Yin’s subsequent artistic trajectory, this clash was always brewing deeper transformations. It represents not just a Chinese template of globalisation but an endeavour from the outset to mirror the intertwined fates of humanity.

To rephrase, the story transcends China, touching upon a universal human fate. The existence of Flowers is akin to our own, their destiny intertwined with ours, revealing an inherent unity between the observer and the observed. At this juncture, Yin confronts the stark reality of cruelty, leading to a profound sense of liberation – an individual’s eventual dissolution of self-imposed boundaries to become one with the cosmos. The droplet remains unaware of its unity with the vast ocean.

Yin’s technique evolves from constructing forms to crafting intentions. The themes become increasingly indistinct due to his intentional obfuscation, leading to a visible transformation – a clear theme is merely a fleeting illusion. Just as in his narrative paintings, where each tale necessitates defined characters and settings, these elements begin to fade, both in Kandinsky’s and Marc’s Blue Rider and in Munch’s The Scream. A universal emotion emerges, one that breaks through cultural barriers and evokes a shared existential plight. This existential connection is the catalyst for the evolution in Yin’s mid-career style.

Epic Theatre

Homer’s chants, evoking the passions and whims of fate, carried the torch of oral literature from the East of Minor Asia to the Aegean’s Western shores. Epics are but symbols of humanity’s absurd destiny, an unending sequence of stories handed down through generations, navigating through myriad paths by trial and error, ultimately sculpted by human choices and constraints. Yin Zhaoyang’s creations resonate with such epic narratives, grounded in his philosophical musings on the transience of all things. In Yin Zhaoyang on Painting (《读画记》), he reveals an ethos of ‘temporary ownership’, choosing to strategise with the tiger: ‘If tradition is the tiger, then I have, time and again, engaged with it in the realms of books and mountains. The more I travel, the more my worldview expands, the more I find myself veering towards nihilism. In the face of tradition’s vastness, this journey resembles the passage of food and drink, leaving no trace behind.’ Essentially, in the boundless cosmos of culture, everything can traverse the spirit as imagery, unfettered by language, culture, community, identity, or history.

His Lost Paradise (失乐园之《红女绿男》1999.001) series elicits a unique response to the weight of existence, hinting at an indirect confrontation with reality. This circumvention reflects humanity’s collective estrangement in the wilderness from a utopian state. He perceives that the fortress of reason falls short of supporting life’s essence.

In 1999, a canvas oil painting was boldly titled The Sceptic (《怀疑者》1999.002). The sceptic, with hands propping open his eyes, scrutinises the fissures of numerous worlds with a look of perplexity. The individual’s confusion, an observation of the human plight, an interrogation of life’s purpose, and an insight into scarcity are all encapsulated in this moment with a pressing pace.

Yin’s artistic exploration swiftly evolved into a phase of fictional historical paintings post-2010. Confronted with dilemmas similar to those of Homer in Asia Minor, how was he to escape the fleeting illusions of era and community and move towards internationalism? He embraced a delicate, paradoxical approach, weaving between the reader and the writer, between iconology and anti-iconology. The use of symbolism invigorated the psyche’s surface – a shared synesthetic experience among humans. Yin started to shape a unique internationalist landscape. Reflecting on thirty years, the outline of this artistic journey begins to emerge more clearly.

The Limbourg Brothers’ Très Riches Heures illuminates the dominance of International Gothic across Western Europe in the fifteenth century. In an era marked by robust international exchanges within the region, it birthed a truly innovative style. European cultural symbols were ingeniously reconfigured using a method that was highly sophisticated and symbolic and easily recognisable. The artwork is characterised by its vivid colours, sharp contours, and the elegance of gold leaf in the manuscripts, all of which encapsulate a comforting balm for the soul within the intricate paintings, traversing the vast stretch of time since the Middle Ages. What would be our era’s equivalent of the Book of Hours? A new global perspective is gradually emerging.

Global Perspective

Yin Zhaoyang’s A Scholar under the Pine (《松下士》2015.006) series subtly embodies his resolve to harmonise two divergent art historical themes: the landscape and the portrait. In Western tradition, art ascended to the realm of the Liberal Arts after the fourteenth century, following Giotto. It wasn’t until the eighteenth century that landscapes began to express Romanticism and convey deeper meanings. The essence behind landscape art was the artists’ own will, becoming independent painters, while the development of personal and group portraits was naturally propelled by noble patrons. Caspar David Friedrich’s Wanderer above the Sea of Fog represents a Western archetype of the sublime human presence in nature. This figure, emerging in pre-modernity with intense curiosity and agility, brought the natural landscape to life, allowing it to be seen and felt in an emotionally charged manner.

In China, post–Sui dynasty, the literati class developed a deliberate style in painting and calligraphy, particularly using landscapes to capture the essence of the mind. The literati, embodying China’s traditional intellectual and elite class, eventually intersected with Western Romantics and their descendants within the global perspective narrative. Together, they sparked a vision of the universe rooted in spirituality. Friedrich’s figure above the clouds and Guo Xi’s A Pure and Remote View (《溪山清远》), despite their distinct tastes, both reveal the spirit’s manifestation within the natural world.

Yin’s global perspective, woven with a Borgesian tapestry of dreamlike grammar, seamlessly invokes a realm of intentionality. Not only has he unlocked the labyrinth of endless possibilities within Expressionism but he has also embraced a mode of resistance to semiotics through Zen reflection, mirroring the unassuming wisdom of Tao Yuanming.

Within the landscape of global perspective, narratives merge and evolve, introducing new lexicons from Munch to Kirchner, from Richter to Yin. The essence of the literati is once again subtly awakened, representing a doctrine of free will and elitism deeply ingrained in Chinese sensibility. As Chen Yinke eloquently penned in the 1929 Memorial Inscription for Mr. Wang Guantang (《王观堂先生纪念碑铭》) for Wang Guowei, ‘The literati’s pursuit of learning seeks to liberate the mind and intellect from the confines of conventional truth, thereby allowing the essence of veracity to proliferate.’

It’s noteworthy that the essence of the Scholar diverges significantly from what the West might describe as the craftsman spirit or professional ethos. It transcends these, aiming for a profound engagement with the objective world to attain spiritual liberation and societal concord. The esteemed Scholars of the Wei and Jin eras achieved a pinnacle of self-awareness, a period during which the expressive autonomy of Chinese calligraphy also reached its zenith. Yin’s work delves deeply into the autonomy of landscapes and lines, a critical element that demands attention from all observers.

The Scholar’s ethos is more akin to the notion of the Western free intellectual, existing as a distinct force within society. Yin, in discussing his artistic practice, expresses a clear insight: he identifies not as an academic in the realms of oil or traditional Chinese painting but as an artist nurtured in the printmaking department. Entering these culturally rich domains from an unaccustomed angle often brings about a breath of fresh enlightenment.

Katsushika Hokusai, in his role as a printmaker, ventured into hand-painted paintings, foreshadowing the premodern embrace of a global vista. His creations not only epitomise the zenith of the Edo era as a spiritual voyage but also highlight the intensity and perseverance of the Scholar ethos within the Chinese cultural realm.

In Yin’s journey towards a global perspective, the intricate interplay between the Scholar and the landscape preserves a nuanced tension, balancing intimacy and detachment. Within the lexicon of traditional Chinese motifs, the pine and the Scholar share a symbiotic relationship, with the pine acting as a moral emblem for the Scholar, showcasing ideals of steadfastness and purity. Additionally, the pine hints at the potential for transcendence. In the evocative scene of ‘inquiring of a boy beneath the pine’, the responder, embodying the hermit, withdraws from the public sphere of governance. This resonates with the Romantic quest at the edge of the world depicted in Friedrich’s paintings, or the flâneur in Baudelaire’s narratives, both profound observers of human destiny.

In Yin’s canvases, the meandering subjects mirror the landscapes that emerged after the Romantic era in the West. It remains unclear whether John Constable, in crafting The Hay Wain (《干草垛》), was predominantly drawn to the joy nature brings to the spirit and ethics, or to the repercussions of the Industrial Revolution on pastoral life. Yet the tremulous fate of humanity in these scenes merges into one – whether it’s the waterwheel stirring waves in the creek or the air and clouds glistening under the natural light.

Yin’s mental landscapes venture further, blurring the lines between the Scholar under the pine and the pine beside the Scholar. The Scholar transcends an archetype from Inbefore the nineteenth century, appearing more as a contemporary, globalised figure in a T-shirt. When we peer into Yin’s vistas, Zhuangzi’s adage comes to mind: ‘Heaven and Earth coexist with me, and all things are unified with me.’ Is it possible that the person in Constable’s artwork shares the sentiment expressed through Yin’s vision?