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拍品 842
QIN FENG (B. 1961)
Desire Scenery Series: the Joy of Life
已结束2017年5月29日
成交价
HKD 400,000
更多信息
QIN FENG (B. 1961)
Desire Scenery Series: the Joy of Life
Scroll, mounted and framed
Ink and acrylic on canvas
161 x 130.5 cm. (63 3/8 x 51 3/8 in.)
Executed in 2015
Desire Scenery Series: the Joy of Life
Scroll, mounted and framed
Ink and acrylic on canvas
161 x 130.5 cm. (63 3/8 x 51 3/8 in.)
Executed in 2015
QIN FENG (B. 1961)
Desire Scenery Series: the Joy of Life
Scroll, mounted and framed
Ink and acrylic on canvas
161 x 130.5 cm. (63 3/8 x 51 3/8 in.)
Executed in 2015
Desire Scenery Series: the Joy of Life
Scroll, mounted and framed
Ink and acrylic on canvas
161 x 130.5 cm. (63 3/8 x 51 3/8 in.)
Executed in 2015
IN CONVERSATION WITH QIN FENG
C: Christie’s Q: Qin Feng (interview conducted in Chinese)
C: The work is titled West Wind and East Water. What is the meaning of it?
Q: There is a colloquial saying that “feng shui (wind and water) always turns around”, which refers to the reversal of the wheel of fortune. Centuries ago with the development of maritime trade, the arrival of eastern civilisation in Europe accelerated the advent of the Renaissance. Centuries later came the influx of western culture, religion and nationalism into Asia. Before and after the First and Second World Wars, Asia was fragmented, in a state of turmoil. An internal clash of cultures incidentally revitalised the development of ancient societies on the continent. Daoist philosophy believes in the reversal of the wheel of fortune. The laws of nature also suggests certain social morals: everything is relative. Historically eastern and western civilisations have experienced centuries of amalgamation, division and reversal. In the grand scheme of things, both have steered towards a progressive, humanist society where nature is conserved. This is the metaphor of my work. When modern civilisation becomes relatively rational, society would naturally be rid of war, hunger, and conflict.
C: The influence of symbols and languages is palpable in your work, notably Arabic.
Q: The Arabic script in my work can be attributed to the environment I grew up in. I was raised in Xinjiang where the ancient language is still alive and well. With the culture of the Western Regions of China in my blood, I find it closer to my heart than the Han culture. The region is an important cultural conduit between East Asia, the Muslim world and Europe, particularly in terms of religion. Islamic culture has played an important role in history, which is somehow consciously being revised and separated from the mainstream narrative. An example is the Washington Monument on the National Mall, an obelisk – originating from Egypt. I am critical of rewriting the history of religion because of contemporary conflicts, and of exploiting religion as an excuse for starting wars which is why I use language in my work. My work has a strong sense of geographical grounding, as I am an artist with a clear sense of identity. This is what I am proud of.
C: You paint on both paper and canvas. How are they similar or different?
Q: The art of making brush, ink, paper and inkstone has reached its apex already in ancient times. Because of the Industrial Revolution and other historical events, the craft of papermaking has long been lost and the quality of paper declined as a result. That’s why I want to revolutionise – I want to use materials of our times to express my art. The medium in which one paints manifests the spirit and character of our generation, hence I use ink, acrylic, linen and other materials to combine the wisdoms of various cultures. This conscious act also implies that different cultures can always find a compatible and shared view to harness and share resources for an ideal outcome.
C: This work was executed about 10 years ago. How has your art evolved since then?
Q: It was a time when I was working on the Civilisation Landscape series. I was concerned with the differences between various cultural landscapes to express my discontent towards war and other social phenomena. I was living in the U.S. at that time. As I was trying to deal with themes such as globalisation and conflict, I had a sentiment that information was chaotic and desire was boundless. In the early 1980s I worked on a project where I suspended a red line across the road leading to a pilgrimage site to see how visitors reacted. This project has touched me deeply. I often portray the red line figuratively in my work now, because I feel that this line connects the past and the present, the East and the West, memory and history, so that it inherits and preserves what is most genuine in culture. This gives me plenty of space to rethink my art and direction for future development.
C: Christie’s Q: Qin Feng (interview conducted in Chinese)
C: The work is titled West Wind and East Water. What is the meaning of it?
Q: There is a colloquial saying that “feng shui (wind and water) always turns around”, which refers to the reversal of the wheel of fortune. Centuries ago with the development of maritime trade, the arrival of eastern civilisation in Europe accelerated the advent of the Renaissance. Centuries later came the influx of western culture, religion and nationalism into Asia. Before and after the First and Second World Wars, Asia was fragmented, in a state of turmoil. An internal clash of cultures incidentally revitalised the development of ancient societies on the continent. Daoist philosophy believes in the reversal of the wheel of fortune. The laws of nature also suggests certain social morals: everything is relative. Historically eastern and western civilisations have experienced centuries of amalgamation, division and reversal. In the grand scheme of things, both have steered towards a progressive, humanist society where nature is conserved. This is the metaphor of my work. When modern civilisation becomes relatively rational, society would naturally be rid of war, hunger, and conflict.
C: The influence of symbols and languages is palpable in your work, notably Arabic.
Q: The Arabic script in my work can be attributed to the environment I grew up in. I was raised in Xinjiang where the ancient language is still alive and well. With the culture of the Western Regions of China in my blood, I find it closer to my heart than the Han culture. The region is an important cultural conduit between East Asia, the Muslim world and Europe, particularly in terms of religion. Islamic culture has played an important role in history, which is somehow consciously being revised and separated from the mainstream narrative. An example is the Washington Monument on the National Mall, an obelisk – originating from Egypt. I am critical of rewriting the history of religion because of contemporary conflicts, and of exploiting religion as an excuse for starting wars which is why I use language in my work. My work has a strong sense of geographical grounding, as I am an artist with a clear sense of identity. This is what I am proud of.
C: You paint on both paper and canvas. How are they similar or different?
Q: The art of making brush, ink, paper and inkstone has reached its apex already in ancient times. Because of the Industrial Revolution and other historical events, the craft of papermaking has long been lost and the quality of paper declined as a result. That’s why I want to revolutionise – I want to use materials of our times to express my art. The medium in which one paints manifests the spirit and character of our generation, hence I use ink, acrylic, linen and other materials to combine the wisdoms of various cultures. This conscious act also implies that different cultures can always find a compatible and shared view to harness and share resources for an ideal outcome.
C: This work was executed about 10 years ago. How has your art evolved since then?
Q: It was a time when I was working on the Civilisation Landscape series. I was concerned with the differences between various cultural landscapes to express my discontent towards war and other social phenomena. I was living in the U.S. at that time. As I was trying to deal with themes such as globalisation and conflict, I had a sentiment that information was chaotic and desire was boundless. In the early 1980s I worked on a project where I suspended a red line across the road leading to a pilgrimage site to see how visitors reacted. This project has touched me deeply. I often portray the red line figuratively in my work now, because I feel that this line connects the past and the present, the East and the West, memory and history, so that it inherits and preserves what is most genuine in culture. This gives me plenty of space to rethink my art and direction for future development.