松．煙．墨

薛松的藝術

策展人／劉素玉

松煙墨，天下名墨，採集松木，燒出煙灰作原料，故名。薛松，來自黃山邊之青松，創作自焚燒紙張始，灰飛煙滅化為墨，取代古人墨，自創松煙墨。其面貌，有古畫新解，中西合璧；其形式，乃浴火而重生，解構再建構。此一藝術實踐，可謂今之「松．煙．墨」。

松

中國人愛松成痴，松樹的挺拔蒼鬱、千姿百態，自古以來就是騷人墨客歌詠的繆思，更是畫家描繪的靈感泉源，對於松樹的寓意和審美也形成一套獨特的標準。黃山松聞名天下，尤其是矗立在黃山文殊洞上、倚青獅石破石而生的「迎客松」，不但是安徽省的地標，更是歷代畫家創作的重要題材。

一九六五年薛松出生於安徽省最北端的縣城──碭山，以產碭山梨馳名全國，已有二千多年的歷史，被冠上「中華梨都」的美譽。薛松雖然出生於梨都，但是生不逢時，國與家都處於艱困時期，他的父親薛幻洲以「松」為他命名，乃是有感於陳毅元帥的詩《青松》：

「大雪壓青松，青松挺且直。要知松高潔，待到雪化時。」

《青松》是陳毅於一九六一年的冬夜大雪時所作，時值國家內外交迫，即景生情，借物詠懷，描寫青松堅忍不拔，傲雪凌霜，也寄寓自己像青松一樣，勇敢對抗嚴酷風雪的肆虐。薛松出生時，他的原生家庭也正面臨苦難的考驗，他的父親原是碭山一中的音樂老師，母親是小學校長，可惜遭逢文革浩劫，母親長期被批鬥，在薛松三歲時，就因為不斷被折磨、打壓，身體、精神承受過多壓力，最後因胃癌過世。薛幻洲也經常挨批鬥，甚至常常被關到牛棚，薛松有四個兄弟姊妹，母親過世之後，因為父親的工資不夠養活五個孩子，於是就把孩子們分散，薛松的姊姊、二哥及妹妹跟著被下放到農村的外公、外婆，他和大哥則住到另一個鄉下的叔叔家。

薛松童年的遭遇猶如嚴寒的大雪，而母親的早逝，則是他一生難以抹滅的傷痛，所幸薛松的個性一如父親所期許的「挺且直」，他還有一項嚴肅的父親未預料的──樂觀開朗。他在鄉下的生活雖然條件艱苦，卻覺得特別自由和快樂，天天和一幫孩子在外面玩，幾乎沒有讀書，只會捕魚捉蝦，上小二時連拼音都不會，他父親驚覺情況不對，就把他接回縣城了。

薛松不但從小就「挺且直」，而且倔強、固執。父親希望他學音樂，偏偏他喜歡畫畫，為此挨過父親好多次打，還是依然故我。從小學高年級起，他就畫個不停，念高中時，為了畫畫更經常不到學校，整整兩年的時間，都待在哥哥的一位在師範學校教書的同學的空房間裡，每天幾乎畫瘋了。

「每天就是畫畫。冬天特別冷，窗戶都是破的，還透風，我畫完了的稿紙就用來烤火。……我的繪畫基礎就是那兩年打下的。」[1]

潘天壽曾說過，做為一位藝術家，必須「膽要大，心要細，計畫要長遠，頂討厭的是沒有毅力。」薛松走上繪畫這條路，的確具有膽大心細的特質，而且有堅忍卓絕的毅力，他既要忍受父親的反對，還要克服環境的困苦，碭山是一個偏僻保守的縣城，經濟條件落後，繪畫的材料、資料都很欠缺，當時薛幻洲在圖書館工作，薛松常借一些大師的畫冊臨摹，考美術專業過了關，但文化課總是過不去，高中畢業三年才終於考入上海戲劇學院舞台美術系，當時他已經二十歲了。

從小看漫畫書《三毛流浪記》，對上海充滿幻想的薛松，如願以償到了這個五光十色的十里洋場，簡直如魚得水，猶如李安導演的電影《少年Pi的奇幻漂流》，他的勇氣、膽識、想像力、創造力，甚至是性格中輕鬆、灑脫、風趣、好玩的一面，被徹底激發出來，而他骨子裡所不喜歡的教條和平庸的東西，也被徹底拋掉。上海在廿世紀二、三○年代就是中國最早進行現代主義藝術實踐的場所，在改革開放後更加蓬勃發展，一九八五年薛松抵達上海，恭逢其盛。上大學時，他的陳均德老師的一句話：「面對畫布，你自己就是上帝。」對薛松簡直是振聾發聵，醍醐灌頂，有了強烈的自信的他，在藝術的世界找到實踐自我的新天地。

在有意無意中，薛松的作品中出現各種松樹，或許因為松樹是國畫常見的題材，因此很難迴避；又或許是他潛意識裡的松樹情結，一九九六年他創作《迎客松》，時隔二十年，又創作《黃山松》，兩件作品都是以盤據在黃山峰頂上的松樹為主題，都是一反國畫慣例地把主體放置在畫面正中，加上強烈的鮮紅色，二○○六年的《黃山松》還把代表遠山的青綠高山放置在畫面下方，很有一種石破天驚的氣勢。這令人聯想到李商隱的《高松》：「高松出眾木，伴我向天涯」。年輕時走出故鄉，以叛逆之姿從事當代藝術的薛松，在半百之際，卻頻頻回首來時路。

煙

煙之於薛松，有不解之緣。他終日幾乎香煙不離手。他創作的最大特點是使用焚燒過的殘紙碎片，再拼貼在畫布上，因此經常燃燒大量的圖片紙張，工作室裡煙霧繚繞已是常態。

今年(2017)瑞典頂級空氣清淨機品牌Blueair進軍中國市場，邀請薛松在空氣清淨機面板上創作，還拍攝了一個宣傳片。影片中，薛松配合腳本說，自己經常焚燒紙片，很怕吸入過多有害氣體，特別需要空氣清淨機。當時我與他一起觀看剛出爐的影片[2]，聽到這段話，忍不住向他說：「才怪！」

會害怕就不是薛松的本色！

不知道當初Blueair相中薛松時，是否也着眼於薛松的煙霧情結？薛松確實需要空氣清淨機，不過有益他的身體健康，更應該是戒煙吧！朋友們都知道，他不但嗜酒如命，更是「嗜煙如命」，他不是天天喝酒，香煙可是一根接一根抽；更重要的是，拼貼焚燒紙片是薛松獨創的藝術形式，已經發展出一套體系，不可能輕易放棄。

藝術家的創作歷程中，經常有戲劇性的轉捩點，有些還伴隨傳奇事蹟，而愈刺激、離奇、悲壯，就愈被人們爭相傳誦。譬如畢卡索每每有新戀情，就興起他的創作激情；梵谷求愛不成，割掉自己的耳朵，並畫下悲慘的自畫像，而傳頌一時；水墨現代化之父劉國松於千禧年登珠穆朗瑪峰時，因氣壓變化劇烈，下山後喪失一耳聽力，從而發憤開創「西藏組曲」，將「抽筋剝皮皴」[3]發揮至巔峰。而薛松最為人們所津津樂道，就是火劫後找出新契機，浴火重生。

薛松遭遇兩次大火，一次是一九九○年年底，半年後，又發生一次，甚為慘烈，尤其第二次火災，把他自前次火災發生以來試驗的作品全部燒毀。所幸，薛松從那些被燒毀的物品中，發現新大陸。

這個來自黃山的故鄉的青松，還真是愈燒愈旺！他發現，被焚燒過的殘片與未燒過的去拼貼，視覺效果不一樣，意義也不同。對於薛松來說，火災是偶然，也是必然。在火災之前，如果沒有長期的探索與實驗，不可能找到一個突破點，如果沒有長期的準備和反叛意識，再發生十次火災，對於他的創作也是無濟於事。

機會都是留給準備好的人！

一九九二年之後，薛松開始進行無數次的燃燒實驗，最早的時候還是一種混沌狀態，漸漸地從無意識變成有意識的選擇與燃燒，薛松形容自己的創作是先畫靶再射箭，靶子就是他的目標，目標一旦確立就有了針對性，然後對收集來的印刷品破壞、焚燒、分配、組合。

人類對於火始終有一種既愛又怕的情結，火的發明是人類文明的起點，火也是權勢的象徵。希臘神話中，普羅米修斯盜取火種給人類，觸怒天神宙斯，宙斯將他鎖在高加索山的懸崖邊上，懲罰他日日被惡鷹啄食肝臟；秦始皇焚書，意在維護集權統治，統一思想，反對古是今非。大火是極大的破壞，也帶來新生，薛松使用燒烤過的碎片進行拼貼，就有了死亡與再生、解構與建構的意義。薛松坦承，「焚燒紙片時，特別有一種快感、刺激感。」這或許讓潛藏在他靈魂深處的反叛精神得以解放吧！

徐鋼曾經以「波瀾不興，榮辱不驚，少言寡語，忠實可靠，嗜酒如命」[4]描述薛松。與薛松熟識後，覺得徐鋼的形容頗到位，尤其他指出薛松的出生地碭山，是老莊故里的近鄰，因此性格「絕對有老莊出世的遺風」。薛松並不否認，但卻也說：「出生在中原，其實是很悶的，有很多的傳統框架限制。」[5]言下有些許無奈。他還說，今年十月剛去參加第一屆內蒙雙年展，覺得塞外民族特別豪邁，一如他所接觸過的其他非漢族，都很熱情開朗，無拘無束，令他心嚮往之！

薛松年輕時比現在更沈默寡言，人多的場合，他更是沈悶，只有酒過三巡後，才漸漸活潑起來；除了喝酒之外，抽煙也是他自我釋放、解悶的方法，而焚燒紙片的煙霧，也有同樣的效果吧？

墨

薛松畫面上的墨，不是一般的油畫、墨汁，而是他自行研發──焚燒紙片，化為煙灰，和以丙烯顏料形成，可謂今之「松煙墨」。

薛松就讀上海戲劇學院時，國畫老師張培礎認為他速寫功底較深，線條畫得流暢，常給他一些宣紙，讓他試畫水墨，薛松從此有了水墨情結。當時薛松迷戀西方及現代主義，骨子裡對守舊、古板的東西甚為反感，奇怪的是，卻始終持續地畫水墨；更奇怪的是，年紀漸長之後，對傳統文化、藝術更有興趣。對於這種轉變，薛松一開始也想不太清楚，後來感覺到這是從自己的文化中流淌出來的。

比起同世代的中國當代藝術家，薛松對傳統文化的情結比較深、也表現得比較早。一九九二年他開始使用焚燒過的殘片拼貼時，就大量使用書法碑帖，如《蛻》、《心連心》等，新穎的圖像與古老文字交織，強化了作品的深厚度。一九九六年他創作第一幅山水畫《山水》，前景小山、遠景天空就是拼貼焚燒的書法碎片，中景高山則是古畫碎片，畫面兩邊的紅色長條宛如書法條幅，形式上就是國畫的中堂，左右再搭配對聯。

薛松受邀在今年香港舉行的第三屆水墨藝術博覽會(Ink Asia)[6]舉辦個展，有幾幅山水畫就特別依據畫中意境搭配對聯，較諸十年前的《山水》，其形式、風格與傳統書畫更加緊密，又因為對聯另行獨立創作，就可以進行多樣變化，包括字體、色彩，及至拼貼的內容，都有更大的揮灑空間。他最新的作品《山水》、《水墨》更別出心裁，表現國畫講究虛虛實實，畫外氣趣的特點，他利用在台北故宮博物院購買的文徵明複製畫上挖出「山、水、水、墨」字樣，另行貼在上方，而被挖空的部分，則在其底下拼貼書法碎片。在畫面中貼上「薛松製造」的鈐印。薛松從國畫的裝裱、配置及至構圖形式汲取靈感，玩出新的焚燒、拼貼花樣，創造了古畫新用的新手法，如同他在一幅二○一六年的作品《溪山泛舟圖》的上方配上「除舊佈新」的書法，更強化了傳統國畫的形式感，也更具有文人的雅趣。

薛松對於書法碑帖一直情有獨鍾，不但大量做為拼貼碎片，而且另闢「意象書法」系列。在中國美術館、西安美術館的大型展覽中，他以六十公分見方的單幅意象書法做有機組合，最大的達到四十八件作品，造成強大的視覺震撼，展覽時特別吸睛，中國美術館並因此典藏其四十件「意象書法」。「意象書法」表達了薛松對書法線條美感的掌握，直弧、長短、粗細、方圓、枯潤、虛實、相背、提頓、聚散連繞、飛白、抑揚頓挫…，他順手拈來，千變萬化；而他只截取字的局部，並不在意字義，更突顯書法的抽象之美。特別有意思的是，他的書法字體大都不是以黑墨呈現，反而是五顏六色，背景的色彩也同樣多采多姿，與文字線條的色彩或互補、或對比，變化多端。這種形象是傳統、顏色卻是繽紛的，非常具有波普主義風格，也造成視覺上的衝擊，真是古為今用、中西合璧的經典範例。

薛松表示，「做山水系列是對年輕時代的某種情結的一個補償，或者是補充自己當年的某種丟失。」[7]他的「符號山水」所隱藏的含意，頗值得玩味。他最早的符號山水《打X的山水》，其中的「X」以黑墨呈現，後來的系列作品改為紅色，看起來更加觸目驚心。文革時期，在大字報上打叉的，就是要批判的對象，薛松在山水圖上打叉，批判國畫的意圖顯而易見。然而，就像在文革時被打倒的對象，有些可能是無辜的，或被誣陷的，甚至他們還具有很多美德，讓人懷念不已。薛松年輕時批判的山水畫，真的惡名昭彰嗎？年歲漸長之後的他，日益喜歡山水畫，山水畫上讓人驚心動魄的紅X，是破碎時代的符碼，也是過往歲月的傷痕，除了批判之外，可能也有悔恨與追憶吧！

二○○五年的三連作《有符號的山水》，除了打叉的符號之外，更加上醒目的紅色箭頭，其所要探討的問題就更多了，箭頭所指的是山水畫的布置或所謂構圖關係，也是水墨畫現代化所追尋的方向。

黑墨在薛松作品中佔有顯著的地位，不同於國畫的「墨分五色」，他的墨只有黑色，而且是濃黑色，這是他自行調製的「松煙墨」，其特色正是「深重而不姿媚」[8]。他偏愛挪用弘仁的山水畫，一方面向弘仁致敬，另一方面，在於弘仁的山水結構嚴謹，線條如鑄鐵般單純堅硬，以深重的煙墨表現，更為強而有力。不過，這種煙墨較難表現水墨線條的流利，而有一種呆滯、生硬感，薛松並不在意，他所追求的本來就不是筆墨關係。他所有的作品都有出處，譬如山水圖，主要是對歷代名作或大師作品的挪用，再根據畫面的需要而改動，圖像也不是原本照搬，他所要保留的只是一個圖式，圖式裡面或外面所拼貼的碎片內容，有的互相有關連、有的彼此矛盾，有的純粹只是並置，碎片做為材料本身，以及碎片內容與圖式之間的關係，就表達出比繪畫更多的東西。

薛松的作品也追求一種廣告的效果，即以最簡單、直接的方式引人注目，他常以拼圖、大色塊做為作品的基礎，黑墨在其間就更有分量，黑墨可以勾勒圖式線條，也常用以平塗色塊，妙用無窮。

薛松也常挪用《三毛流浪記》、豐子愷作品的圖像，都有特別因緣，前者是他從小就愛看的漫畫書，後者則是在二○○三年非典期間，平靜他的心寧，讓他感覺到質樸與寧靜是中國傳統最美好的一面。除此之外，漫畫作品的線條簡潔、構圖單純，作品內容所描繪的事物是近代中國人耳熟能詳的，這些都很符合波普藝術構成的要件，也讓薛松的煙墨得以發揮特點。

就像早年嘗試過各種主義、畫派的藝術家作品，剛開始只是隨意的，頗有實驗的意味，有特別的心得之後，漸漸演變為一個系列。如今山水系列愈來愈多，其中又分出支系，如《芥子園畫譜》、宋徽宗、黃賓虹、八大山人、徐悲鴻等，他從傳統書畫中汲取的養分愈多，所呈現出的文人趣味也愈濃烈。

二○一三年我邀請薛松來台灣創作《台灣八景》，這是他首次以實地風景創作的當代山水畫，他運用發展完備的個人語彙，將台灣原住民、新住民，以及象徵漢文化的傳統書畫文字、代表現代建設的摩天大樓，巧妙拼貼，熔於一爐，既是台灣三百年歷史發展的縮影，也呈現了台灣的多種族、多元文化的特色。

《台灣八景》的成功，催生了《澳門八景》，而有了前者的基礎，他畫澳門八景就更得心應手，在取景、構圖及拼貼內容上很快就有靈感。澳門有不少天主教堂，薛松在澳門采風之後，又遠赴義大利米蘭參加聯展，沿途收集很多歐洲著名的古典、宗教名畫畫冊，正好在澳門八景中派上用場；他所繪製的新美高梅酒店，以各國紙幣拼貼，更是一絕，金碧輝煌的賭場型酒店就是用金錢堆砌起來的，這讓人看了，眼睛為之一處，不禁會心一笑。

拼貼需要使用大量圖片、紙張，這讓薛松養成了收集圖書、文物的習慣。他從一九九四年起收集新中國美術作品，包括版畫及原作，如今竟已累積五百多件，而七、八年前開始收集日本浮世繪，如今也有五百多件。他的收藏癮頭愈來愈重，光是每年購買書刊就花費十多萬，而收藏美術品的經費則更難以估量。收藏癖好向來是中國文人特有的情懷，從一個前衛的波普藝術家，到如今的好古敏求，或許也是源自於「松煙墨」因緣吧！

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[1] 劉淳著《薛松訪談錄》第17頁，山西出版傳媒集團．三晉出版社2015年出版。

[2] 2017年11月8日筆者在薛松畫室進行對談，他播放剛出爐的這段Blueair宣傳片，翌日在上海廿一當代藝術博覽會中正式播放。

[3] 「抽筋剝皮皴」是劉國松所開創的水墨技法，在特製的粗棉紙大筆揮毫後，再撕去紙筋，露出不吸墨的白色線條，如同水墨畫的皴法。

[4] 新加坡當代美術館、林大藝術中心2013年出版《薛松》第12頁，徐鋼撰《薛松與新海派藝術》。

[5] 2017年11月8日筆者與薛松在他上海莫干山路訪談。

[6] Ink Asia是國際第一個以水墨畫為主題的藝術博覽會，每年年底在香港會議展覽中心舉行，今年突破傳統水墨畫的定義，將富有水墨精神的作品納入，媒材不拘一格，特別邀請薛松舉行個展。

[7] 劉淳著《薛松訪談錄》202頁，山西出版傳媒集團．三晉出版社2015年出版。

[8] 明代文學家屠隆《考槃餘事》墨箋一節曰: 「余嘗謂松煙墨深重而不姿媚，油煙墨姿媚而不深重。」

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Pine, Smoke, Ink – the Art of Xue Song

Pine smoke ink, famous throughout China, is a type of precious inkstick made from pine soot, or the deposition of smoke particles from burning pinewood. Xue Song, who is named after the great pines (song in Chinese) of Yellow Mountain, begins his collages by burning printed images, in which the ashes are collected and mixed into his paint; this artistic practice and synthetic medium can be regarded as a new Pine, Smoke, Ink.

Since the late 1990s, Xue Song has made extensive use of traditional Chinese calligraphy and painting, either as ready-made images for his burnt collage, or as classical themes to be reinvented in a contemporary context. Although his practice is derived from Pop Art, it carries a profound sense of Chinese culture and the spirit of ink painting. The artistic practice of Pine, Smoke, Ink opens a new chapter in genre of Modern Ink.

Pine

The Chinese revere the pine tree. The pine’s weathered bark and twisting trunk has captured the imagination of painters and poets for ages. In terms of symbolism and aesthetic, the pine has formed a classic genre. The pine trees of Yellow Mountain are famous throughout China, particularly the Welcoming Pine. Bore out of a rock and perched on a cliffside, the tree is not only a landmark of the local province of Anhui, but also a favorite subject for generations of painters.

In 1965, Xue Song was born in the northernmost county in Anhui Province, Dangshan. Known for its cultivation of pears, a tradition tracing back two millennia, the county has been crowned the “Pear Capital of China.” Although Xue Song was born in the prosperous Pearl Capital, his birth was during a turbulent time, for both his country and his family. His father Xue Huanzhou named him Song, meaning “Pine” in Chinese, after the Marshal Chen Yi’s (1901 – 1972) poem, Green Pine:

                        Snow weighs heavy on the green pine,

                        The green pine stands stiff and straight.

                        To know the pine’s height and purity,

                        Wait until the snow melts.

Chen Yi wrote Green Pine during a great snowstorm in the winter of 1961, a time in which the country was mounting with internal strive and foreign pressure. Borrowing the imagery of the snowstorm, Chen wrote of a pine tree standing in defiance against the harshness of the winter snow, as an allusion or reminder to himself to be brave in face of adversity. At the time of Xue Song’ birth, his family was also faced with hardship. His father was originally the music teacher of Dangshan First Junior High School, where his mother was the principle. But caught in the chaos of the Cultural Revolution (1966 – 1976), his mother was met with repeated political persecution. When Xue Song reached the age of three, due to the constant torment and suppression, her spirit finally collapsed, and she died of gastric cancer. Xue Song’s father was also regularly persecuted, and frequently jailed in a cow pen. After his mother passed away, Xue Song’s father could no longer support him and his four siblings, so his father was forced to send the childern away to their relatives. Xue Song’s two sisters and second elder brother was sent to the countryside with their grandparents, while he and his eldest brother was sent elsewhere in the countryside with an uncle.

Xue Song’s childhood experience was as harsh as a snowstorm, and his mother’s early death has always been an unceasing pain in his life. Even so, Xue Song’s personality became what his fathered had hoped for, “stiff and straight.” What his strict father did not expect, however; was the optimistic and cheerful side of his personality. Although life in the countryside was difficult, there Xue Song felt free and happy. Everyday was spent playing outside with other children. He rarely studied and knew only how to fish and catch shrimp. By the second grade, he did not even know pinyin (Chinese alphabet), and so his father brought him back to the county.

Xue Song was not only “stiff and straight” from an early age, but also stubborn and unyielding. His father wished for him to learn music, but he was only interested in painting. For this, his father beat him on more than one occasion, but Xue Song’s mind was already set. Since elementary school, he spent all of his time drawing, and in junior high school, he often cut class to draw. For two whole years, he spent in his elder brother’s friend’s spare room at the local university, drawing away furiously.

“Everyday was painting. The winter was very cold, and the windows were all broken, which let the cold air in. After I was finished drawing, I would burn the paper to keep warm. …My foundation in sketching was laid during those two years.”^[1]

The painter Pan Tianshou (1897 – 1971) once said, “As an artist one must “be audacious and attentive, and plan for the long-term; the problem is the lack of perseverance.” Having embarked on the path of painting, Xue Song must indeed have audacity and an attentive nature, but more importantly, an unyielding perseverance. Xue Song often imitated paintings from albums of past masters, and so he passed the entry examinations for fine arts with ease. But the humanities requirements always held him back. Only after three years since his high school graduation was he finally enrolled in the stage design department at the Shanghai Theatre Academy; he was already twenty years old.

Having read the Adventures of Sanmao^[2] comics as a child, and filled with imagination about Shanghai, Xue Song’s move to the modern metropolis was like a duck takes to the water. Comparable to Yann Martel’s Life of Pi (2001), Xue’s courage, imagination, and creativity, as well as the free, easygoing, and adventurous side of his personality was finally allowed to roam free in the new city, and what he detested about the social stigmas of the past were completely left behind. Shanghai in the 1920s and 1930s was the forefront of Modern Art in China, and since the economic reforms of the 1980s, the city has been began to surpass its former glory. Arriving in Shanghai in 1985, Xue Song ushered in the new era. At the Shanghai Theatre Academy, his instructor Chen Junde said to him, “Facing the canvas, you are your own God.” For Xue Song, this was awakening and enlightening, and gave him a strong sense of self-confidence to find his place in the world of art.

Intentionally or otherwise, pine trees often appear in Xue Song’s works. This is partially due to the predominance of the pine tree as a genre in traditional Chinese painting. But it may also be due to Xue Song’s subconscious identification with his namesake tree. As early as 1996, he painted Welcoming Pine, and twenty years later, Yellow Mountain Pine was painted. Both works feature a large pine tree lodged on a Yellow Mountain peak, and both break the conventional composition of traditional Chinese painting, by placing the subject directly in the center. Yellow Mountain Pine of 2016 even places the background mountains at the bottom of the composition, thereby elevating the presence of the tree in a striking manner. The imagery is reminiscent of the first verse of Li Shangyin’s (c. 813 – 858) poem, Lofty Pine:

                        The lofty pine rises above the woods,

                        Accompanying me toward the horizon.

Although Xue Song left home in his youth to pursue contemporary art, now in middle age, he retraces his steps time and time again.

Smoke

Smoke and Xue Song share an unbreakable bond. He has a cigarette in hand all day long, and the most prominent feature of his art is the burning of printed images, in which the burnt fragments are pasted onto the canvas as collage. Considering the amount of burnt images required to fill a canvas, his studio is usually ridden with smoke.

This year in 2017, Sweden’s leading air purifier company Blueair is entering the Chinese market, and has invited Xue Song to act as spokesperson and decorate the front panels of three air purifiers for a promotional video.^[3] In the video, Xue Song kept with the script and said that because he burned paper regularly, he is afraid of inhaling excessive fumes and is in particular need of air purifiers. When I was watching the video with him, upon hearing this line, I could not help myself but to say to him, “You are not afraid!”

Being afraid just is not Xue Song!

I wonder when Blueair chose Xue Song as their spokesperson, if they understood his relationship with smoke. Xue Song does indeed need air purifiers, but in terms of improving his health, quitting smoking might be a higher priority! As his friends all know, he not only has a taste for drinking, but also for cigarettes. Regardless of his addictions, the burning of printed images is at the very core of Xue Song’s art, something he cannot easily abandon.

In the careers of artists, it is not uncommon to find dramatic turning points, often known to the world as celebrated stories. The more exciting, unusual, or tragic, the more memorable it becomes. For example, Pablo Picasso’s surges of creativity often parallels the coming and going of women in his life. Vincent van Gogh’s self-mutilation of his ear is forever immortalized in his self-portrait. Liu Kuo-sung (b. 1932), the father of Modern Ink Painting, climbed Mount Everest in 2000, and upon his descend, due to the sudden change in air pressure, became deaf in one ear. But from the loss of hearing, Liu gained the inspiration for a new series, the renowned Tibetan Suites. Finally, what Xue Song is known for is how he found inspiration in the fiery ashes of his art.

Fires broke out in Xue Song’s studio twice; once at the end of 1990 and once more roughly six months later. The fires were devastating, especially the second one, which thoroughly destroyed what had survived from the first. But from the ashes lying on his studio floor, Xue Song was to build a new world.

Like the pine trees of Yellow Mountain, fire only fueled Xue Song’s transformation, as he discovered the visual impact, symbolism, and also gestural significance of the burnt images. For Xue, the fire was an accident, but it was not accidental. Had he not already experimented tirelessly with the medium of collage, or had he not sought to express themes of discontent and destruction, the fire could have broken out ten times more, and it would have been inconsequential to his art.

Opportunity comes to those who are prepared!

Following 1992, Xue Song began countless experiments with fire. At first, the experiments were more of a chaotic frenzy, and gradually they became more controlled and productive, as Xue shifted his attention and energy from the sensation of burning itself, to what he was burning and how. In his own words; he painted the target first, before he shot the arrow. Having set a target in mind, then begins the cutting, burning, and pasting of the printed images he collects.

Since the dawn of mankind, human beings have always had a loving and fearful complex with fire. The invention of fire sparked the human civilization, and fire has since been a symbol of power. In Greek Mythology, the titan Prometheus stole fire to give to mankind and thereby angered the god Zeus, who condemned him to eternal torment by bounding him to a rock and having an eagle feed on his liver, which would grow back only to be eaten again the next day. The first Emperor of China, Shihuangdi (c. 259 – 210 BCE) is infamous for burning heterodox books in his efforts to consolidate central power and unify thought. Fire is greatly destructive, but in its destruction, it allows for new life. By burning and partially destroying ready-made images, and reassembling the burnt fragments on the canvas in a different context, Xue Song’s artistic practice embodies destruction and rebirth and also deconstruction and reconstruction. Xue acknowledges, “When the paper is being burned, there is a special kind of satisfaction and excitement.”

Xu Gang once described Xue Song as “a man of few words, …cool and calm, not easily startled or surprised, [and] unwilling to chase after fame or wealth.”^[4] After becoming well-acquainted with Xue Song, I found Xu Gang’s description quite on point, especially when he pointed out that Xue Song’s birthplace of Dangshan is also the region the Daoist philosophers Laozi (c. 604 – 531 BCE) and Zhuangzi (c.369 – 286) are believed to have originated, and so his personality carries “the legacy of Laozi and Zhuangzi’s birthplace.”^[5] Although Xue Song does not deny such claims, he maintains that “being born in China proper is actually very suffocating; there are many traditional frameworks limiting you.^[6] He also lamented that, during his participation in the first Inner Mongolia Biennale this October, he felt the people beyond the Great Wall were frank and easygoing, just like the other Chinese ethnic minorities he has met, who have all been warm and high-spirited.

In his youth, Xue Song was a man of even fewer words, and in a crowd of people, he just kept to himself. Only after three rounds of drinks, does he begin to lighten up. Aside from drinking, smoking cigarettes is also an outlet for him. Perhaps the smoke from burning the images for his collage achieves the same effect.

Ink

The black ink on Xue Song’s canvases is not ordinary paint or Chinese ink, but is something his own creation – the ashes of incinerated images mixed together with acrylic paint, otherwise known as Pine, Smoke, Ink.

When Xue Song was attending the Shanghai Theatre Academy, the traditional Chinese painter instructor, Zhang Peizhu, believed he was skilled in drawing and the lines of sketches were lively. Zhang often gave him Chinese rice paper for him to try traditional ink painting, and so Xue Song’s relationship with ink painting began. However, at that time Xue Song was infatuated with Western and Modernist Art, and strongly detested all things conservative or traditional. Remarkably enough, he has kept with ink painting ever since. What is even more remarkable is his growing appreciation for traditional arts and culture as he grows older. As for this reversal, Xue Song was not aware of it at first, and only later realized this was his own culture coming forward.

In comparison with many other contemporary Chinese artists of the same generation, Xue Song has a deeper appreciation for traditional Chinese culture, and has drawn inspiration from it earlier. When he began his burnt collages in 1992, Xue chose many images of written calligraphy and calligraphy from stone rubbings, as seen in Metamorphosis and Hearts Together, in which the fusion of ancient characters with strange shapes strengthened the depth of the work. In 1996, he created his first landscape painting, simply titled Landscape. A hill is placed in the foreground and is surrounded by burnt fragments of calligraphy in the sky behind. The mountain in the mid-ground is composed of images of ancient Chinese paintings, while the central image is flanked on both sides by two long red banners with abstract lines representing calligraphy. In terms of formal composition, the central image is the centerpiece in traditional Chinese painting, and the flanking banners are the accompanying couplets of calligraphy.

This year in 2017, Xue Song is invited for a solo exhibition at the third annual Ink Asia art fair in Hong Kong. For the exhibition, Xue Song paired several landscape paintings with corresponding couplets in the manner of 1996’s Landscape. In terms of both form and style, the landscapes bare a closer resemblance to traditional Chinese painting, and because the couplets were created separately, they allow for a reinterpretation of the centerpieces, with the style of calligraphy, the additional colors, and the contents of the collage fragments. Xue Song’s latest works, Landscape and Ink, are even more ingenious; he uses the reproductions of paintings by the Ming Dynasty master, Wen Zhengming (1470 – 1559) from the National Palace Museum in Taipei, in which he cuts out silhouettes of the Chinese characters for “landscape” and “ink” (shanshui and shuimo), pastes them elsewhere on the painting, and then fills cutouts with images of calligraphy, thereby playing with the traditional notion of solid and void in Chinese painting. The lower right corner of the collages are impressed with his personal seal, bearing the words: “Made by Xue Song.” From traditional Chinese painting, Xue Song draws inspiration in the formats of framing and mounting, as well as the manner in which they are hung and presented. For a painting from 2016, Sailing Amongst Mountains, the characters “Out with the Old, In with the New” were added on top, strengthening the sense of tradition in the style of the Chinese literati, and also adding a form of self-commentary to his own artistic practice.

Calligraphy is a reoccurring motif in Xue Song’s art; not only as images in his collage, but also as its own series of paintings, the Calligraphy Imagery series. For large-scale exhibitions at the  National Art Museum of China and the Xi’an Art Museum, he pieced together individual square canvases of 60 centimeters, each containing a single character, with the largest polyptych up to forty-eight squares. The series attracted a great deal of attention at the exhibitions and forty pieces were collected by the National Art Museum. Calligraphy Imagery demonstrates Xue Song’s understanding of the traditional aesthetics of calligraphy, in terms of the proportion in composition, the flow and direction of lines, and the speed and strength of execution. For each character, Xue selects only a portion of the character in order to remove meaning from the word, and to highlight the abstract beauty in Chinese calligraphy. What is also interesting is his use of vibrant colors in contrast to the conventional black in rendering calligraphy. The background colors are also equally diverse, both in compliment or in contrast with the character’s colors and contours. While the image is traditional, the use of colors is not, and is instead a feature of Pop Art. This series is strong in terms of visual impact, and a classic example of the blending of tradition and modernity, as well as and of Western and Eastern cultures.

Xue Song said, “The Landscape series is a kind of emotional compensation for my youth, or for something I lost in the past.”^[7] The meaning behind his Symbolic Landscape series is worthy of attention. In the earliest example from the series, X Landscape, the “X” was painted in black ink, and later on in the series, the color was changed to red, becoming even more visually striking. During the Cultural Revolution, the names of political target were written on so-called “Big Character Posters,” and crossed-out with a large “X.” By crossing-out the image of a traditional Chinese landscape, Xue Song hints at the rejection of traditional arts and culture. However, similar to many of the victims of the Cultural Revolution, who were in fact innocent intellectuals, traditional Chinese landscape painting was never without merit. In his rejection of the traditional genre during his youth, how complete or severe was Xue Song’s rejection? With a growing appreciation for the genre in middle age, Xue Song marks the landscape with a giant red “X” as a symbol of a broken age and as a scar of the past, with a sense of regret and remorse.

The 2005 triptych Symboled Landscape features not only a “X,” but also several stark red arrows, in which the symbolism becomes even richer. The arrows mark the general structural composition of traditional landscapes, as well as suggest the presence and intrusion of Western culture, or specifically Western art, in Chinese painting.

Chinese ink reserves a prominent position in Xue Song’s art. Unlike the traditional notion of “Five Shades of Ink,” Xue’s ink is solely black, which he finds most expressive. He has repeatedly borrowed images of the monk Hongren’s (1610 – 1663) landscape paintings, on one hand as a tribute to the master, but also because his landscapes are minimal in composition and his brushstrokes are simple and defined, which are well-suited for representation with Xue Song’s synthetic medium of ash and acrylic paint. However, the synthetic ink is less effective for representing the fluidity of conventional Chinese ink, because it is much denser and heavier. Xue Song actually prefers the heavy nature of his synthetic ink, because it creates a bold texture, which traditional ink cannot produce. The source of inspiration can be found in all of his works, and in terms of  his landscapes, the inspiration is generally derived from famous paintings or styles of past masters, which are rearranged according to the needs of the given composition. He retains the outlines of the formal composition, but the areas interior and exterior of the outlines are filled with burnt fragments of other images, some of which are interrelating, while others are conflicting. The fragments are its own medium in addition to ink or paint, and relationship between the fragments and the overall image can be more effective in expression in comparison to conventional painting.

Xue Song also pursues the effect of commercial advertisement in his paintings, to attract attention in the most simple and direct way. He often divides his images in large solid colors, in which black ink appears even bolder, effecting outlining the image. The Adventures of Sanmao and Feng Zikai are frequently featured in Xue Song’s works. The reason behind the choice of these images is due to Xue Song’s interest in comic books as a child, and during the SARS outbreak of 2003, Xue revisited these comics and found a sense peace and comfort in the parables of traditional Chinese values. Additionally, the images of comics are simple and the outlines are concise, and its themes are familiar to modern Chinese people. All of these qualities fall in line with the elements of Pop Art, allowing Xue Song to unleash the potential of his synthetic ink.

As for Xue Song’s earlier ventures into other genres and styles of painting, the incursions were mostly by chance, and rather experimental. Only after experience and reflection did these various ventures gradually develop into specific series. In recent years, the Landscape series has become more and more expansive, with sub-series such as the classic Mustard Garden Manuel of Painting, and tributes to past masters including the Emperor Huizong of Song (1082 – 1135), the eccentric Bada Shanren (Zhu Da, c. 1626 – 1705), and the modernist Xu Beihong (1895 – 1953), in which Xue Song draws from China’s long and illustrious history of painting to fuel and reflect his own interest in the identity of the Chinese literati.

In 2013, I invited Xue Song to Taiwan for an art creation project, Eights Vies of Taiwan. This was the first time he represented real sceneries into his contemporary landscape paintings. Implementing his system of burnt collage, Xue integrated images of Taiwanese Aboriginal Peoples with Chinese settlers, and also traditional Chinese calligraphy and painting with modern skyscrapers. In a melting pot of cultures, Xue not only visually summarized three hundred years of Taiwanese history, but also accurately portrayed the island’s ethnic and cultural diversity.

The success of the Eight Views of Taiwan led to the Eight Views of Macau, and with the foundations laid on the former project, Xue Song easily found inspiration for Macau in terms of subject matter, composition, and collage material. There are many historical cathedrals in Macau from the colonial era, and after visiting Macau Xue Song traveled to Milan, Italy for a group exhibition, where he collected large volumes of books on Medieval and Renaissance religious painting, specially for the Eight Views of Macau project. Moreover, for his collage of the new MGM hotel, he used fake bank notes of different countries, as a stark allusion to what the hotel and casino is truly composed of.

Due to the fact collage requires great quantities of printed images, in his constant search for collage material, Xue Song has develop a taste for collecting vintage books and other printed materials. Since 1994, Xue has collected over five hundred artworks from the Communist Era (1949 – c. 1980s), including propaganda prints and political paintings. Also, in the last seven or eight years, he has collected over five hundred Japanese Ukiyo-e woodblock prints. His passion for collection is growing steadily; his budget for books alone is over a hundred thousand yuans a year, and the amount spent for his art collection is incalculable. The art of collection has always been part of traditional Chinese literati culture, but for a contemporary Pop Artist, to be passionate of the ancient past, is perhaps due to the artistic practice and his synthetic medium of Pine, Smoke, Ink.

Curator Elaine Suyu Liu

 

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^[1] Liu Chun, Dialogue with Xue Song, Shanxi Publishing Group, 2015; pg. 17.

^[2] The Adventures of Sanmao, created in 1935 by Zhang Leping (1910 – 1992), is a popular comic book series about an orphaned boy named Sanmao, set in Shanghai during the 1930s and 1940s with themes of war and colonization.

^[3] Interview with Xue Song by the author at his studio on Moganshan Road, Shanghai on November 8th, 2007, in which he displayed the video that was to be officially released the following day at the Shanghai Art021 Art Exposition.

^[4] Xu Gang, “Xue Song and the Neo-Shanghai Style” in Xue Song: Works 1988 – 2013, Singapore Museum of Contemporary Art, 2013, pg. 25.

^[5] Xu, Ibid., pg. 25.

^[6] Interview with Xue Song by the author at his studio on Moganshan Road, Shanghai on November 8th, 2007.

^[7] Liu Chun, Dialogue with Xue Song, pg. 202.