Yangjiang Group is an artist group founded in 2002 in the city of Yangjiang in southern China. With calligraphy as the point of departure, the members of Yangjiang Group, Zheng Guogu, Chen Zaiyan and Sun Qinglin, work with performance, installation, video and photography. Yangjiang Group has exhibited at Tate Liverpool and at Kunsthaus Graz in 2007.
Three questions to Yangjiang Group
Caroline Elgh, Assistant Curator: China is a big country and the living situation I understand varies a lot depending on which city or region you live in. The big cities on the east coast like Beijing, Shanghai and Guangzhou where most of the artists in this exhibition live are also very different from each other. You live in the smaller south coast city Yangjiang three hours by car from Guangzhou, so in your work as artists, how do you relate to your city and home environment?
Zheng Guogu: We differ from the earlier generation of artists from Yangjiang in that we are even more accustomed to living in a town like Yangjiang, which has been a rich source of inspiration for us. The scenery here is picturesque, and there is so much art within our daily lives. We can draw from the unique nature of the location itself and be pleasantly surprised by what is revealed from our explorations. And what we discover is that “the world does not have intentions, yet there is not a single thing that is not done by the world.”
Chen Zaiyan: That’s right, large cities will always possess the dominance that large cities innately have. Over there, there are more platforms for exhibitions and exchanges, as well as very good museums and so on. However, in this era of information, the differences in living conditions are gradually being reduced. Yangjiang is a small coastal town, and it seems that it was one of the earliest places to be influenced by entertainment and culture from Hong Kong and Taiwan. People are constantly in pursuit of their dreams of wealth – they dream of living in mansions, they dream of possessing more and more! Their minds are always assaulted by all sorts of fresh objects and experiences! On the other hand, here we have the gorgeous landscapes of mountains and the ocean; we have a distinct manner of cultural exchange. The first free verse society in Yangjiang is called Ziwei Poetry Society. They sing about the hills and sea here, conscientiously trying to experience every change that this landscape goes through. Every fantasy of survival is thus played out daily in this stage that is the small town! In times of despair, joy, hesitation and struggle, I’d think that what we are in pursuit of is exactly that which we have here – the dream of a mesmerising landscape that is gradually vanishing.
Sun Qinglin: Oh, small towns also have their own superiority, and in creating our works, there can also be unexpected effects that are unleashed. It is akin to going out with some friends to drink all night, and then making a work right after that; when you wake up, you might realise that what you have created is rather interesting! Moreover, human relationships in small towns are less complicated and more free.
Caroline Elgh: China has a very long history and in this exhibition at Bonniers Konsthall more traditional techniques like calligraphy that you are working with is evident. On the other hand, the development in China is moving forward very fast and in the exhibition we also see works that involve advanced new technology. Do you in some sense relate to Chinese history and future in your work?
Zheng Guogu: In China’s long history, each generation’s art has its own distinctive features. With today’s development of globalisation, the exchanges between people have become increasingly more reliant on computers, and it is the act of writing and penmanship that folks living on the lower strata are urgently seeking support for. On the other hand, in the short span of a few decades, China has simplified its writing characters, and this has given the writing of this era its distinctive feature. With the merging of new media, there is a concerted effort to transfer this unique tradition over, in order to reduce the gulf between the past, present and future.
Chen Zaiyan: Previously, Chinese calligraphy and Chinese painting have seemed to be regarded as integral to the development of Chinese art, and there was simply no way around them! Our ancestors said, “Calligraphy is the heart’s painting; calligraphy and painting come from the same source.” This already indicated the close relationship between calligraphy, painting and Chinese culture and philosophy. However, because they were established so long ago, and are usually passed through generations via the mentor–student method, this closed circle of instruction has resulted in works that resemble one another too much, even amongst thousands of practitioners. As a result, our aesthetics seem even more weary than ever, and within the contemporary arts circle, it appears even more sluggish! At the same time, it has also provided us with plenty of issues to deal with. For instance, how do we deconstruct the various traditional elements of calligraphy and painting? How do we reconcile them with the environment that I live in today? In a multicultural and multilingual age, how do we use elements of calligraphy and painting to express what we are thinking? These are all issues that we need to pay attention to.
Sun Qinglin: I think that it is time for calligraphy to undergo some form of change, given the situation today. In the past, the practice of calligraphy always had to commence from some form of foundation, but I don’t think that is necessary! I have always wanted to bring about a massive 180 degrees turn to calligraphy, but whether this is possible or nor still remains to be seen. There is still calligraphy beyond calligraphy, and we still need to work hard, comrades!
Caroline Elgh: From where do you take your starting point and what inspires you as artists? Is it other artists or perhaps other creators like filmmakers and musicians or something completely different?
Zheng Guogu: Yangjiang is the starting point of my artistic career. The lunatic actions of “my teacher” led me to become an artist.
Chen Zaiyan: I was born in a village in Yangjiang. Chinese rural areas in the late ‘80s were extremely backward. My parents have been in agriculture all their lives. They worked hard to earn enough money for my education, and their wish was for me to have good prospects and be successful. They had the mindset that a scholar’s mantra ought to be that “those who specialize in mathematics and the sciences will rule the world.” They had no idea what art is about. Yet I’ve always liked sketching and painting since I was young, and had no interest in my studies. Whenever they caught me writing calligraphy or drawing, they would be unhappy and would lecture me for not being serious about my studies, for not being occupied with worthy things. I could thus only do what I liked secretly. I had an unexpected opportunity in junior high school when I discovered that the spring couplets affixed outside our door and printed by a publishing company was actually created by a local calligrapher. I then rode my bicycle for over 20 miles in search of him, to have him teach me. When I saw that one could make an adequate living from calligraphy and painting, that spurred my ambition on further!
Sun Qinglin: It must have been my uncle! He was illiterate and worked as a blacksmith. During the New Year festivities, he would see how people could set up stalls to write calligraphy and earn money out of it. In a bid to improve his financial situation, he followed their lead and also started doing spring couplets in calligraphy. Even an illiterate can write calligraphy! That sparked something off in me. Later, in 2000, I met Chen Zaiyan and Zheng Guogu by coincidence, and all of us began to create calligraphy together!