Forecast
Before I leave, I read through my project proposal again.
"My work expresses the exotic and unfamiliar." And "to deepen my work I am looking for inspiration abroad." What does that really mean exotic. I am reminded of Michel Foucault and his introduction to The Order of Things. He quotes a piece from a Chinese encyclopedia. In it, animals are divided into absurd categories.
(a) belonging to the Emperor, (b) embalmed, (c) tame,
(d) sucking pigs, (e) sirens, (f) fabulous, (g) stray dogs, (h) included in
the present classification, (i) frenzied, (j) innumerable, (k) drawn with a
very fine camelhair brush, (1) et cetera, (m) having just broken the water
pitcher, (n) that from a long way off look like flies.
In China I hope to find something of these wonderful systems of thought. Because it immediately calls into question our own thought systems.
Chinese culture is a mix of Confucianism, Taoism and Buddhism.
A Chinese story tells of the three great Chinese spiritual thinkers. Lao Tze, Confucius and Buddha each taste some vinegar. Confucius found it sour, as he also perceived the world and people. Buddha found it bitter, as he described the world as suffering. Lao Tze found the vinegar to taste sweet. Lao Tze is an important philosopher from Taoism. Taoism emphasizes an underlying harmony in the world where divisions seem to have power. Perhaps I'll find a little more of this wonderful system of thought here.
What I do have to deal with already is the government of China, it is not so easy to enter the country. And just when I want to apply for a visa, the rules (nobody knows exactly how and what) have been tightened. With an official invitation from the municipality of Chongqing, copy of the director's ID, and a program stating what I'm going to do each day, etc., I'll be lucky to get my visa.
Reception
Upon arrival, I was picked up by Hu Ke (general services in DAC). I was the only non-Chinese on the flight to Chongqing so he recognized me immediately. With the car on the way to Dimenions Art Center, artists-in-residence. My first ride through the concrete jungle. Because that's what it is, everywhere gray apartment buildings rise out of a green mountain range, as if they were shot right out of the ground. Hu Ke has lived in Chongqing for 30 years and has known Tu Zeng (director) since childhood. The city has become unrecognizable to him, so fast construction is taking place. Right now it is the fastest growing city in the world. But if you look closely, you can see that many buildings are also empty. Perhaps there is a little too much enthusiasm for building here.
Chongqing is in the middle of China, it is built in the mountains. Or as the Chinese here say, "Chongqing is in the mountains, and the mountains are in Chongqing." The center is where the Yangtze and Jilang rivers meet. It's not entirely clear to me how many people live there as information on the internet varies, but according to Hu Ke, there are about 30 million in the province and 7 million in the city. Numbers that make me giddy.
DAC
We arrive in our neighborhood. Jinglongpo is the art district of Chongqing. There are many (painting) materials stores and art spaces here on the street. There is also an annex of the Shichuan Fine Arts Institute. The new campus with over 5,000 students has moved a little further out of town. I arrive at my studio. It's nice and cool in my studio, fortunately I have air conditioning. That's necessary because even though I thought I was starting spring, it doesn't exist here, Hu Ke said. It is winter here: very cold or it is summer: very hot! In April it can be 30 degrees as it is now. I walk with Hu Ke and meet the DAC team. I already had everyone in my We chat, (the Asian whatsapp), where I had already received very cheerful messages (whole series of emoticons). It's a warm welcome, and the whole DAC team is there to make me feel at home, I even get bread milk and cookies. Something I thought was unavailable in China.
In the face of China's wonderfully rich culture and warmly vibrant people, China's government and traumatic political history are in stark contrast. Just before my departure for China, President Xi Jinping decides to further restrict (the red) cultural freedom.
The art here is underground, and is not noticed by the population and is therefore not interesting to the government or the art is in collaboration with, which means that art follows the red (communist) line. The DAC takes an interesting position in this, they do not want to remain invisible to the population (underground), but connect contemporary art with the population. Because this makes you stand out to the government, they enter into a dialogue with you. Several times I have had visitors in my studio. Then suddenly my studio was full of 10 civil servants.
There is no traditional art made at the DAC or art with a red line. Basically, as an artist, you are free to make whatever you want within the walls of your studio. Because the DAC is in dialogue with the government, exhibitions do involve filtering. For example, no images of political figures in questionable situations are allowed to be exhibited.
Soon I feel very much at home at the DAC. The people I meet are very cordial. Chinese people are modest, I noticed. I like that. No bulldozers like Americans or inflated egos. Also among the artists no exaggerated show offs. Maybe it's because of a different culture. Western language is dualistic in structure, where we always distinguish between ourselves and the rest. In the Chinese language, the object is always in relationship/context with the environment. The translation of a camel is something like: the vessel of the desert. This relationship between things, Jung, who studied the I Ching, called synchronicity. Translating from Chinese to English seems to be very difficult. The language is not built in a linear fashion, but as a pattern or drawing. The Chinese may experience themselves as more one with the environment, something we may only experience in our childhood.
A good example is a poem from the writings of Zhuang Zhou, Chinese poet and Taoist philosopher of the classical period of Chinese philosophy. "Once upon a time I, Zhuang Zhou dreamed that I was a butterfly, a butterfly fluttering about, content with himself and unaware that he was me. Suddenly I woke up and began to realize that I was still Zhou. Now the question is whether I am Zhou who dreamed he was a butterfly, or a butterfly who dreamed he was me. Yet there is necessarily a difference between me and that butterfly. So we call that the change of things."
When I read this, I was immediately reminded of what Hu Ke told me about Chongqing; Chongqing is in the mountains, and the mountains are in Chongqing. That keeps pinging at me, what's in what?
In a city where every day is noisy building, honking, eating, living and dancing, I try to read Zhuang Zhou's writings in silence. Reading Zhuang Zhou brings me exactly to the space I am looking for for my work, a space of possibilities, a space beyond the dualistic Western thinking in which we always have to make a distinction between "the one" or "the other. A space for spontaneity, where the useless, and 'not knowing' is important.
Hands are the medium
As a starting point for my exhibition, I have used the game of ping pong, popular in China. Along with the inner writings of Zhuang Zhou, I engage in a dialogue with the game. The title Play. Hands are the medium is an invitation to play the game of ping pong. Play for me also refers to play itself, an important moment in the creative process, where things have their chance to lose their static meaning. Playing with processes, which underlie sensation/perception, are the main material in my work. In my search for how we look at things, I came across the Chinese character for 'seeing'. The Chinese character 看 (kàn) means to see or look. It consists of two characters: hand (手) and eyes (目). This can be meaningful to both the creator and the viewer. At the opening of my exhibition, the director (Tu Zeng) makes another reference to the game of ping pong and the rules of government "You are not playing ping pong but ping pong plays you." In a similar way, we don't speak our language, but the language speaks to us. After three months I am back on the plane to the Netherlands, and unfortunately I have to say goodbye to Chongqing. We call that the change of things.
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