Tianyi Wang 王添一
tianyi
Critical Reflection
Michael Armitage: Material as Cultural Narrative
Michael Armitage, a contemporary painter born in Kenya and based in London, employs a unique visual language that blends East African traditional art, European painting techniques, and modern socio-political themes. His work is a fusion of figuration and abstraction, characterized by expressive brushstrokes that convey both cultural and personal narratives.
Curfew (Likoni March 27 2020)
One of the most striking aspects of Armitage’s practice is his use of Lubugo, a Ugandan tree bark cloth, as his canvas. This material is not merely a surface but a carrier of cultural symbolism and historical weight. Lubugo’s rough texture and irregularities force the viewer to confront the medium itself as an active participant in the creation of meaning. This choice challenges the Western tradition of the “neutral substrate,” where linen canvases aim for transparency in presenting images. By contrast, Armitage’s use of Lubugo transforms the canvas into a site of cultural memory, embedding colonial history, trauma, and contemporary East African identity into the very fabric of his work.
While Armitage’s paintings often explore political and cultural conflicts, my own work operates on a more intimate scale, focusing on microcosmic structures and personal explorations of form and color. However, his approach to materiality has inspired me to reconsider the cultural and historical implications of my own choices. For instance, in a recent pop-up show, a fellow student from a Chinese minority group used silk as her canvas, embedding cultural metaphors into her work. This made me question: Could I, too, challenge traditional materials like rice paper or silk? Could I incorporate tattered window screens from old buildings, collages of ancient book pages, or even digital projections to enrich the cultural narrative of my paintings? Yet, I remain drawn to the tactile feedback of rough canvas, which grounds my work in a physicality that feels essential to my process.
Muxi’s ‘Six Persimmons’: The Zen of Composition
Muxi, a Zen monk painter from the Southern Song Dynasty, created one of my personal favorites: ‘Six Persimmons’. This masterpiece embodies the concept of “non-composition”—a deliberate use of white space that invites contemplation. At first glance, the six persimmons appear randomly scattered, but they conceal a strict order. The spatial rhythm, with four persimmons in the foreground and two in the back, creates a sense of breathing, akin to the alternation of yin and yang. This “order within disorder” resonates deeply with my own research into structural combinations, where I seek to implant implicit mathematical logic into abstract compositions.
Muxi’s use of ink is equally profound. Through a monochromatic palette, he achieves “five-color metaphysics”: burnt ink (the darkest), thick ink, light ink, withered strokes (flying white), and the white space of the paper itself. This gradation mirrors the dissipation of matter from solid to void, echoing the Zen idea that “form is emptiness, emptiness is form.” In my own practice, I often dilute pigments to achieve similar effects, but Muxi’s work inspires me to push further. Could I explore extreme layering within a monochromatic scheme, such as ultramarine, to challenge the boundaries of “less is more”?
The white space in *Six Persimmons* is not mere absence but an active participant in the composition. It suggests an invisible exchange of energy between the persimmons and serves as a projection space for the viewer’s imagination. This idea of “white space as an unfinished invitation” aligns with my own interest in leaving room for interpretation, allowing the viewer to complete the narrative.
Five-color metaphysics
From Darker tp lighter from right to left
Zen Philosophy and the Act of Painting
Muxi’s approach to painting mirrors Zen practice. His brushstrokes are spontaneous and intuitive, refusing embellishment or correction. This “straight mind is the dojo”philosophy resonates with my own belief in embracing imperfections as marks of authenticity. Just as Muxi’s persimmons transcend their humble subject matter to evoke a sense of divinity, I aim to imbue everyday structures—window frames, staircases—with a weight that invites existential inquiry.
The simplicity of ‘Six Persimmons’ proves that eliminating redundant details can reveal the essence of an object. This is a lesson I hope to apply to my large-scale works, where the temptation to overwork can lead to cluttered compositions. Perhaps by using large monochromatic blocks, I can create a sense of “empty monumentality” that allows the viewer to engage with the work on a deeper level.
Materiality and the Rediscovery of Essence
Both Armitage and Muxi demonstrate how materials can transcend their physical properties to become carriers of meaning. Armitage’s Lubugo canvas and Muxi’s ink and paper are not passive surfaces but active participants in the creation of meaning. This has inspired me to experiment with unconventional materials, such as burning rice paper or using topography on canvas, as a form of “material cultivation.” By allowing the material to reveal its essence through destruction, I hope to uncover new layers of narrative and emotion in my work.
In Western art, painters like Morandi and Cézanne have also explored the existential potential of still life. Morandi’s bottles and Cézanne’s fruits, like Muxi’s persimmons, transform ordinary objects into profound meditations on existence. Similarly, Lee Ufan’s 'Relational Items' use stones and iron plates to create dialogues between objects and emptiness, continuing the Eastern tradition of white space as a spiritual concept.
Conclusion: Toward a Modern Chinese Painting
The greatness of ‘Six Persimmons‘ lies in its ability to prove that the simplest forms can contain the most profound cosmologies. My exploration of “structure as language” may require a similar return to basics—a willingness to let go of doctrinal labels and confront the relationship between objects and emptiness with honesty. When brushstrokes no longer seek to conform to external ideologies but instead strive to capture the essence of form and space, perhaps the true essence of “modern Chinese painting” will naturally emerge.
Through the lens of Armitage’s materiality and Muxi’s Zen philosophy, I see a path forward: one that embraces cultural narratives, challenges traditional materials, and finds beauty in the interplay of structure and emptiness. In this way, my work can become a bridge between the past and the present, the East and the West, and the tangible and the intangible.
This reflection synthesizes my engagement with Armitage’s materiality, Muxi’s Zen aesthetics, and my own artistic practice, offering me a path for future exploration.