李自健油画:: 新世纪巡展“人性与爱”

My favorite of the series,
'汶川娃－欲飞的天鹅’
(Swan's Flight), 2009.

The Kunming Museum (昆明市博物馆) was closed for renovations. Only the Yunnan Provincial Museum was open (云南省博物馆). Good enough. I happily wandered around for 2.5 hours.

While the three upper levels hold permanent exhibits of artifacts excavated from the ancient Dian Kingdom (again, some clearly fake, and some probably replicas), the ground floor held a current exhibition of 186 oil paintings (mainly portraits) by US-based Chinese artist Li Zijian (李自健), titled, "Humanity & Love" (人性与爱). This non-profit touring exhibition has gone round the world, and is now in China, debuting at Hainan Museum earlier this year.

An extremely talented observer of human expressions, the exhibition curates the artist's depiction of humans in the mountainous and rural areas of China, especially of women and animals, of their toil and hard work in the fields. His realist-style brushstrokes and colors evoke powerful emotions in the observer. He depicts life as it is, and beautifies his human subjects. And for once, there isn't a political overtone to his paintings. He doesn't try to show any sign of that or remark on any social irony in spite of painting through a chaotic era in Chinese political history. Except that one masterpiece about the Nanjing Massacre.

The rare painting of males. Titled '牛车道路' (Ox cart Road), 2003.

There was a section on the rural natural charm of Wenchuan province seen through its children, and especially adorable little girls known informally as 'a series of Wenchuan girls', or more poetically in Chinese '汶川娃系列'. I tagged along behind an old artist, a professor of sorts who had taken his students to see Li Zijian's paintings, and shamelessly eavesdropped on his critique of the style, wrinkles, facial expressions, and even titles of the paintings. Some of his comments were fair, but many showed a trace of jealousy in his nitpicking of certain usage of the brush. Oh well. After a while, I drifted away to stare at the paintings on my own. I lingered long over them, imagining their childhood. This set of paintings showed Li Zijian's clear passion for the province and how he raised funds for these children affected by the earthquake 2008.

The section on the women living in the villages and mountains was poignant. Especially of a probably 7 to 9-year-old little girl carrying her brother on her back, and tip-toeing to lock the front wooden door of her house. This is a scene that city children nowadays will not know. Especially not Singapore children. Which set of Singapore parents will let their young daughter look after a baby, and still trust her to lock the doors? It speaks volumes of the responsibilities and almost carefree existence in the rural provinces.

I was irresistibly drawn to the portraits of old people. Men and women. The artist gave the paintings a different treatment. He didn't totally focus on the background or their surroundings. He preferred to focus on their faces. The look in their eyes is pensive, yet not exactly downtrodden. It's a very different look from most of the old people I usually work with. Their weather-beaten faces affirm a life well-lived, happy in its simplicity, and tell of a human...at peace.

I love this series of old ladies. Second from left, hands clasped, it's titled '慈' (Benevolence), 1999.

Then, there's a painting that sent shivers down my spine. '南京大屠杀' (Massacre in Nanjing). This is Li Zijian's best known work, a masterpiece painted in 1999, that went on tour to protests by the Japanese government and critique by the art world, as well as painful acceptance by viewers, and is finally donated to the Nanjing government. Li Zijian reproduced it in 2003 for the purpose of sharing it with the greater world in touring exhibitions.

There's no beauty and calm in this work. It's fiercely evocative. If you're the sensitive sort, the longer you stare at it, the higher chance of unbidden tears rolling down the cheeks. Li Zijian has allocated an intentional smile to the soldiers in uniform, and given each of the corpses a distinctive face and expression. Those whose faces can't be seen, have their bodies contorted in a physical position that lends no doubt to the pain suffered before eventual death.

'南京大屠杀' (Massacre in Nanjing), 2003.