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Landscape Photography: An International Symposium and a memorial for Wang Wusheng

by Shenzhan 申展

Wang Wusheng (1945 - 2018)Huangshan A104, 1984Taken at Lion Peak, Mount HuangInkjet printon view at China Institute Gallery in New York until February 17, 2018

Wang Wusheng (1945 - 2018)

Huangshan A104, 1984

Taken at Lion Peak, Mount Huang

Inkjet print

on view at China Institute Gallery in New York until February 17, 2018

I didn’t know that Mr. Wang Wusheng (汪芜生)had passed away in April until I attended the International Symposium: Photography and China at China Institute on Sep. 22, 2018. Wang’s landscape photography is a big part of the exhibition, Art of the Mountain: Through the Chinese Photographer’s Lens at the China Institute Gallery in New York from February 9, 2018 – February 17, 2019. In a sense, the symposium was truly a memorial for the late photographer.

With his great works in the gallery next door, no memorial could serve Mr. Wang better than a symposium with speakers including his close friends, scholars, photographers, and packed with a group of audience genuinely interested in China and photography. Having lived overseas in Japan and U.S. since 1980s before moving back to Shanghai in 2010, Wang is better known outside of China with his black and white “landscape photography”, poetically and artistically depicting Mount Huang (in Anhui, Wang’s home province in China),  in an aesthetic form resonant with traditional Chinese landscape ink painting. Such connection is easy to establish with the juxtaposition below:

Wang Wusheng (1945-2018)Huangshan W34, 1984Taken at Lion Peak, Xihai area, Mount HuangInkjet printon view at China Institute Gallery in New York until February 17, 2018

Wang Wusheng (1945-2018)

Huangshan W34, 1984

Taken at Lion Peak, Xihai area, Mount Huang

Inkjet print

on view at China Institute Gallery in New York until February 17, 2018

Shi Yizhi (17th century)Tiandu peak in the yellow mountains (黄山天都峰 )Presented by Prof. Joseph Chang at the symposium

Shi Yizhi (17th century)

Tiandu peak in the yellow mountains (黄山天都峰 )

Presented by Prof. Joseph Chang at the symposium

Dr. Jonathan Chaves (齐皎瀚), a good friend of Wang and Professor of Chinese Literature at the George Washington University, pointed out, Wang’s work captures the nature and its spirit in a way rooted in the very ancient Chinese cosmological philosophy, Taiji, with yin and yang as a force-and-antiforce pair that forms the source of energy in the universe. Oddly it reminds me of Stephen Hawking’s theory on quantum physics that everything in the universe comes from the energy released from the particles and the anti-particles at the quantum level, which, in my view, fundamentally very Taoism.

In a dialogue on “Black and White Landscape Photography” between Wang and Xia Zhongyi (夏中义), professor at China Academy of Art and Vice President of the Chinese Association of Literature and Art Theory, who flew to New York for the symposium, the feeling of awe regarding the universe is in the center. Wang talked about the moments when he was trembling in awe at his first visit to Mount Huang in 1974. He subsequently went back numerous times to capture the right moments and develop his own artistic language with his camera to articulate such emotion, and transcend others. It took him over 30 years to mature his “language” with a unique style and technique, with which he meticulously applied a pitch darkness to the body of the mountain in order to create a sharp contrast to and a powerful tension with the cloud.

Wang Wusheng (1945-2018)Huangshan W25, 1991Taken at Lion Peak, Mount HuangInkjet printon view at China Institute Gallery in New York until February 17, 2018

Wang Wusheng (1945-2018)

Huangshan W25, 1991

Taken at Lion Peak, Mount Huang

Inkjet print

on view at China Institute Gallery in New York until February 17, 2018

To me, Wang’s photography perfectly represents how the essence of Chinese culture is expressed through a non-Chinese technology. The lens may be the product of the West, the eyes and heart behind the lens are undoubtedly Chinese. Wang was not the first Chinese photographer who successfully made such reputation internationally known. Dr. Mia Yinxing Liu, Assistant Professor in Visual Studies at the California College of the Arts, gave a rather thorough academic account on Lang Jingshan (郎静山, 1892 - 1995), who is considered to be the first (and greatest!) professional photographer in China in 1920s and created “composite photography” (集锦摄影), a collage technique to precisely express Chinese aestheticism through photography.

Lang Jingshan (1892-1995)A Panoramic Embrace of Landscape, 1993unknown source online

Lang Jingshan (1892-1995)

A Panoramic Embrace of Landscape, 1993

unknown source online

It’s not difficult to see the similarities between Wang and Lang’s work. And it is certainly not a coincidence that while their photography is deeply rooted in Chinese tradition and culture, their work is celebrated internationally. Lang, “Father of Asian Photography", was named one of the top 10 master photographers by the Photographic Society of America in 1980. For Wang, while it is yet to know whether he would enjoy wider posthumous recognition in China, his favorite photography works are permanent collection in the Kunsthistorisches Museum in Vienna, one of the top three museums in Europe. According to Prof. Xia, after passing away quite unexpectedly, Wang left behind some twenty thousand negatives in his refrigerator to be sorted out, selected and printed. Those are his “children” yet to be brought to light, literally.

A memorial without mourning would be incomplete. Indeed there was a silent mourning before the symposium started. A touching moment came when Prof. Chaves read a poem he composed for Wang, “Mourning for the Master Photographic Artist Wang Wusheng”, in Chinese Ballad form (古体诗), which I record below in traditional Chinese characters and its English translation to conclude this article:

吊攝影大師汪蕪生 diào shè yǐng dà shī wāng wú shēng

兼示子寧老友 jiàn shì zǐ níng lǎo yǒu

齊皎瀚 qí jiǎo hàn

漸江升天半千崩 jiàn jiāng shēng tiān bàn qiān bēng

蕪生世間作品稱 wú shēng shì jiān zuò pǐn chēng

今日訃告淚雙垂 jīn rì fù gào lèi shuāng chuí

無再攝影千裡鵬 wú zài shè yǐng qiān lǐ péng

知音此世萬有一 zhī yīn cǐ shì wàn yǒu yī

汪公唯實吾心朋 wāng gōng wéi shí wú xīn péng

高士宇宙作行者 gāo shì yǔ zhòu zuò xíng zhě

黃山輸於天堂登 huáng shān shū yú tiān táng dēng

Mourning for the Master Photographic Artist Wang Wusheng

--also sent to old friend Zining (Joseph Chang who introduced us)

Jonathan Chaves

Jianjiang has ascended the skies, Banqian has expired;

In this world, Wusheng’s works have matched those of these men.

But now arrives his obituary -- tears fall in two streams,

No longer flies the 1000-mile Roc of photographic art!

Those who “know our music” in this life?

One out of thousands,

Master Wang indeed has been a bosom friend of mine.

The noble one is still a pilgrim in the universe:

The Yellow Mountains yielding now to the peaks of Heaven.

Astoria, New York

9/22/2018

"Your Majesty, bad news for you."

A Time Traveler’s Message from NYC to a Chinese King

I recently watched 4 episodes of “the Fabrics of the Cosmos”, a PBS documentary led by celebrity Physicist Brian Greene narrating a story about the relativity of time and space in our universe. The mind-binding part is, what is in science fiction about time travel is not entirely unfounded. In theory, if time and space work the way Einstein predicted, there should be a way travelling back in time.

Let me imagine a theoretically possible time-space travel back to Western Han Dynasty (206 B.C. – A.D. 9) some 2,300 years ago. If I had a chance to meet the king from the Chu (楚) Kingdom (BTW: I CANNOT think of any reason to meet him. I am merely entertaining the PURE theoretical idea.), how would I have told him what happened to his jade suit, which, made before 175 B.C., with over 4,000 pieces of high-quality Hetian (和田) jade sewed together through gold thread, was believed by the king to preserve his flesh and soul for eternity.

The king might have been VERY surprised to know his jade suit is currently on view in New York City (NYC) at the China Institute Gallery in lower Manhattan from May 28 until November 12, 2017.

2,300 years ago, there was no NYC, no United States. None of the current European countries would have existed yet. Roman Empire is known as the equivalent civilization in the West when Western (or Former) Han Dynasty emerged on the other side of the northern hemisphere. The king might have not heard of the Roman Empire, while there might have been a slim chance that he saw objects of Hellenistic styles and patterns made their way through the Silk Road to his Chu Kingdom, a powerful, wealthy and culturally rich region along the north-eastern coast of China, the birthplace of Liu Bang (刘邦,256 – 195 B.C.), the first emperor of the Han Dynasty.

To begin with, it would be almost impossible to explain NYC to the king. The king and his people believed that they were living in the center of the world, a popular belief among almost all civilizations until Columbus discovered the world is a globe more than 1,500 years later. Such fundamental concept is reflected in the name “中国” (literally mean “middle kingdom”) later appeared in Eastern (or Later) Han Dynasty (A.D. 25 – 220) , referring to the region under the ruling of Han Emperors. How the world has changed in 2,300 years! To make sense, the king must comprehend that not only China is not in the center of the world, but also there is a whole continent on the other side of the ocean (the Atlantic Ocean) and a cosmopolitan city called NYC is hosting his jade suit.

Nevertheless, I would be happy to tell the king that his jade suit was magnificent. A jade coffin made to cover him from head to toe in the shape of his body, the suit is among the 116 total unearthed jade suits in China and arguably the best of all. Placed in a glass case in the inner corner of the gallery, the suit is glowing as if the king is wearing it and lying in the chamber of his mausoleum complex. In addition, just like in his mausoleum, he is accompanied by miniature terra-cotta soldiers, civil attendants, dancers, musicians, etc., each with amazingly vivid details individually captured by his craftsmen. Having survived through over 2,000 years, some still have the original paint. Above all, I would give my highest compliments to the jade pendants. In addition to the jade suit, the king brought to his afterlife many jades such as disks (玉璧), grips (玉握), rings(玉环), headrests (玉枕), facemasks(玉面罩), all with meticulously designed and highly stylish dragons, tigers, cicadas, mystic creatures, clouds, knots, or geometric patterns. Sitting in their individual cases on the wall of the gallery, or in the middle of the room, the jades are lifted from above the ground and floating around the suit, as if it’s a scene in the king’s dream. Exquisite and elegant, jade in Han Dynasty was widely believed to be able to preserve the corpse and the spirit of the deceased; hence jade suits were common at the time among the royalties and aristocrats.

S-shaped dragon jade pendant, early Western Han DynastyPhoto from the catalogue, Dreams of the Kings: A Jade Suit for Eternity, China Institute Gallery / Xuzhou Museum, 2017

S-shaped dragon jade pendant, early Western Han Dynasty

Photo from the catalogue, Dreams of the Kings: A Jade Suit for Eternity, China Institute Gallery / Xuzhou Museum, 2017

While it is farfetched for the king to dream of coming to NYC, it’s almost certain that he dreamed of living a luxurious afterlife: numerous jade wine cups, bronze cooking utensils, bathing baskets, and so on, were buried with him; a full banquet was in a chamber next to him; the remains of his chief chef were found in the same tomb, so as two females in two separate chambers right next to the king. The arrangements were obviously made for the king to continue what he enjoyed in his lifetime. In fact, he might not consider all these to be in a dream: after all, the jade suit should have protected the king’s body from decaying and preserved his spirit to ensure his luxurious life in eternity!

Here comes the sad message, surely more difficult for the king to swallow than the idea of NYC: the jade suit actually didn’t work. When discovered, the tomb was already previously looted, the jade pieces piled up in the chamber, the gold thread mind-bending gone, and the king’s body long decayed (as we truly don’t know about what happened to the spirit, I can’t talk about it.). Since jade suits were proven not working (with the looters’ help, ironically) while making one (and build a mausoleum complex around it) cost a fortune, which subsequently enticed loads of looters to disturb the tomb owners,  extravagant burials were banned later during Cao Wei (曹魏,220 - 265) period. No jade suits after Eastern Jin (东晋,317 - 420 ) were unearthed so far.

Jade suits unearthed are mostly exhibited in museums in China, some traveling around the world. There are currently two in New York City alone, one at China Institute, the other at the Metropolitan Museum of Art until July 16, 2017, less than one hour apart from each other on the subway (assuming the traveling is not delayed as it routinely happens nowadays). A third suit is on view at the Asian Art Museum in San Francisco. Archeologists and art historians are almost certain there are more underground. The first emperor of Han Dynasty, Liu Bang (刘邦), was VERY LIKELY buried with a jade suit but is yet to be proven. While China’s policy banned any tomb excavation, it’s possible one day a construction truck might dig into the dream of another king, or a farmer might find a Terra-Cotta soldier’s oddly small head in his own rice field, just like the accidental discovery of this Chu King’s tomb in the Lion Mountain of Xuzhou in 1986.

The king’s body may be decayed, however, his jade suit and all the other burials survived are excellent authentic materials for people in NYC to appreciate Chinese fine art, history and culture. However, I would imagine the king would be more concerned about eternity, less about helping others understand China, Han Dynasty, or even his own kingdom. So all these would be truly terrible news for him, and not so good for me to be the messenger: after all, given his extremely high-profile jade suit and mausoleum, he was surely an all-powerful king when I met him in this time-travel.

That said, I would congratulate the king for what was created for his eternity. In the end, while it turned out to be a mere dream for him, his jade suit, along with other objects, are truly the messengers of the past that have disappeared 2,300 years ago.

In this sense, the jade suit, not me, is the real time traveler.

Fangsuo Bookstore, Chengdu, China

2017/6/20

A New Era for an Old Institute

Author: Shenzhan/申展

The plate of the old China Institute

An old plate of China Institute ready to be packed, August, 2015

Photo by Shenzhan Liao

The summer of 2015 is marked as unusual for everyone working at China Institute, a non-profit organization in New York founded in 1926 to promote a deeper understanding of China. With early founders including renowned Chinese and American scholars like Hu Shi, Kuo Pingwen, John Dewey and Paul Monroe, the institute today has about 35 staff members, American and Chinese, who vary in their services from over 30 years to less than a year. What makes 2015 different is that this 90-year-old institute is moving out of its Upper East Side townhouse after 71 years of residence to the Wall Street area in downtown Manhattan, at the corner of Washington and Rector Street.

All had to be left behind: the signature red door of the townhouse at East 65th Street; its sophisticated cast-iron staircases climbing inside the old building; the serene traditional Scholar Garden in the backyard, where a turtle and a goldfish tribe have happily lived together in a pond surrounded by bamboos…… except for the two stone lions guarding the entrance. One male, and the other female, the lions were easily packed and taken downtown. Donated to China Institute in 1944 by Dr. Henry R. Luce, the 4-story institute was once affectionately called the “China House”, exhibiting the best Chinese fine art exhibitions in the U.S., and welcoming the most famous Chinese artists, authors, scholars, and other intellectuals to speak or perform. The earliest Chinese language and cultural studies courses for the public in the U.S. were also pioneered here.

The move had been planned for a few years. However, the seed may have been planted long ago. Dr. Paul Chih Meng, the 2nd President of the China Institute (1930-1967), wrote in his autobiography Chinese American Understanding in 1981 that the trustees regretted that they had not taken Henry Luce’s other offer of a larger house as the space for the institute 2 years after moving into the townhouse, as needs grew immediately. Mr. Meng held his wedding ceremony in the “China House”.

Over the years, that regret only grew larger accompanied by the American public’s soaring interest in China, due in part to its stunning economic growth over the past 30 years. A China with over 5,000 years of history and tradition, together with unprecedented rapid economic and social changes besides revolutions, fueled by ever-growing globalization (and further fueled by social media), has captured the public imagination in every aspect. Not only have the programs outgrown the old China House but “China” as a topic seems to outgrow China Institute: there are an increasingly large number of cultural organizations, museums, schools, and universities in New York, that are bringing their understanding of China to the American public (and whoever turns to their online channels, i.e., websites, Facebook pages, Twitter, Instagram……you name it!)

Nevertheless, the move finally came after 71 years. On Aug 17, 2015, the Institute’s staff walked into the lobby of 100 Washington Street, swiped themselves through the automatic bars at the entrance (the two lions really won’t take cards), and entered the 2nd floor. The first stage of a 2-staged renovation project of the new space, the institute now has a clean-cut reception area behind a glass door and a minimal-style office area with grey carpet, green chairs, and many glass doors. With a few public areas still undergoing some final touches, the new Institute is getting ready to open its doors in late August.

For most of the people working at the institute, me being one of them, moving into an overall 50,000 SF new space from a 9,000 SF townhouse is exciting, although inevitably mixed with some nostalgic melancholy. If it was a “hidden jewel” on the Upper East Side, the Institute is now a newborn that awaits the downtown neighborhood to discover, or, rediscover. It will open its doors with its language classes for both adults and children, as well as a series of public lectures, author talks, film screenings, and corporate events throughout the coming fall. The institute’s most proud China Gallery will have its first show in the fall of 2016 when the ground floor is completed and a Grand Opening can finally unveil the whole Institute.

Nothing could be more obvious to signal the changes that are yet to come than physically moving to a new neighborhood. For the Institute, whose staff will still be unpacking their boxes in the coming weeks, the ability to adapt and yet maintain its spirit that many members and long-time friends have held so dearly to their hearts, perhaps is most critical. Just before the move, on a Thursday afternoon, a small celebration was held in the Scholar Garden for a well-beloved senior lecturer, Mr. Ben Wang, for his 30th anniversary with the Institute. Only present and former staff, Mr. Wang’s students and followers, a handful of scholars, Institute members, and long-time friends were present. While speaking with Dr. Annette Juliano, an art historian, and curator of China Institute’s art exhibitions several times, I discovered that Dr. Juliano became involved with China Institute while still in graduate school. “I was first here as an intern,” Dr. Juliano said, sipping a cocktail in the Scholar Garden. While looking forward to the new place, the Honoree, Mr. Wang, whose lectures on Chinese classical literature, art, and language have won admirers for years, was dressed elegantly with his silver hair, his stylish jacket, and his red-belted watch to match his burgundy leather shoes, said he will certainly miss the old institute, like many of the people at the Scholar Garden will do.

There is a lot to reflect on its past. Indeed, an astonishing amount of files, books, and most importantly, artworks have resurfaced through the packing process from many hidden closets in the old building. The new space is as vast and blank as any new place. Its history has to be carried on and will continue to be written here. One would think that a 90-year-old institute with its generations of people who were involved with its mission, there must be something that transcends the past into the future. In the past, people could feel it as they walked through the red doors. Now, with glass doors, sleek walls, and a newly reinvented logo, the Institute has to demonstrate its strength in its completely new space where the construction is halfway through.

And, the turtle and fish moved into a tank with a pump in the new space.

8/21/15

Astoria, New York