Fu Hong / 傅红

Painter 傅红 / Fu Hong arrived in Australia in 1990, having already held his first solo exhibition at the National Art Gallery of China in 1988 at just 42 years of age. Since then, he has gained a deserved national and international reputation for his original representational painting. Gallerist Jenny Pihan elaborates: 'Each picture has an experiential sculptural syntax underscoring its pictorial space – one can see the solidity of his pictorial forms and feel them through his skilful and inventive use of modelling, perspective and spatial illusion'.

Since his arrival, Fu has held more than sixty solo exhibitions in Asia, Europe and Australia. Portraitist of choice for the Australian Judiciary, the arts and private patrons alike, his sitters are diverse from Sir James Gobbo AC, CVO, QC former Governor of Victoria (1997- 2000) to Li Cunxin Artistic Director of the Queensland Ballet and esteemed writer Alex Miller.

A three-time Archibald finalist (2008 portrait of Dr Joseph Brown, 2009 portrait of Dame Elizabeth Murdoch and 2021 portrait of Professor Mabel Lee / 陈顺妍), finalist of the Doug Moran National Portrait Prize (1996, 2010, 2014), the Dobell Prize of Drawing (2004), winner of the Shirley Hannan National Portrait Award (2002) and many other awards besides, his works are widely collected in public and private collections throughout the world.

In the virtual space for Silent Dialogue / 沉默的对话, Fu will present his painting Rebirth / 重生 2019 (pictured above). Inspired by Chinese cosmology and the Australian landscape of his home, the painting represents the artist’s spiritual search for a sense of place and self-understanding in the face of adversity, the idea of rebirth and Australia. Fu will also present Shan Hai Jing 2021, a monumental painterly work to be presented for the first time.

The painting continues the artist’s spiritual search, this time inspired by the Shan Hai Jing / The Classic of Mountains and Seas, an extraordinary cultural account of pre-Qin China, which combines fabulous geographical information with Chinese mythology. Alongside the painting will be a hand-painted book of mythical creatures, along with selected excerpts from the classical text written in calligraphic style. The texts pay homage to the classical art form of calligraphy, the artistic embodiment of human language and tradition. Together, Fu’s works explore the idea of the transformation in art and self, along with the artistic search for the inexpressible sense of belonging.

From 20-23 January 2022, Fu’s works will be displayed at Missing Persons art space alongside those of fellow artists 关伟 / Guan Wei, 欧阳昱 / Ouyang Yu and Echo Cai / 子轩. Press the button below to check out the Exhibition Program.

ET— 1) Inspired by Chinese cosmology and the Australian landscape, Rebirth 2019 is a melding of the zodiac with ‘Australiana’ (Australian flora and fauna and other national symbols), a gum tree, a dingo or dog, an emu, etc. alongside black, brown, white and multi-coloured human bodies. In a sense, it represents an idea of a multicultural Australia. Hong, can you expand upon the symbolism of the painting?

ET— 2) In the painting, one notices the birds right away - red, white or black ravens, an emu, an owl. In Western culture, blackbirds are often associated with bad omens or tidings. It's a line of thinking that harkens back to Greco-Roman antiquity. Can you talk a little about the symbolism of birds in Chinese culture and what you were hoping to explore?

ET—3) I'm sure I am reading into my own biases. However, there also seems to be Western religious symbolism at play in the painting. A sort of Eden denoted by the reclined female figure holding the apple, which symbolises temptation, and the 'Christ-like figure adjacent (the white cross barely visible behind it), which feels rather like an effigy. Could you reflect a little on this and any other associations with Chinese or other religious or spiritual themes?

ET—4) Hong, for me, it is through the expressive potential of colour that I begin to appreciate the idea of Australia and its evolution in the painting. Through the eye’s engagement with colour, there is a sense of moving through the landscape – from the urban window at the far left of the canvas to the country’s red centre, which stretches across to the far right-hand side of the canvas, alluding perhaps to the expansiveness of this desert land. The painting is a continuation of a painting series you did during the 1990s called ‘Dreams come true’. Can you tell us a little about this return to this style of painting and what influenced you? Do you see this as a shift in your practice?

ET—5) That red centre in the painting feels unmistakably Australian. The black and white bodies at that centre meet in almost oppositional gestures. It denotes an intersection but not reconciliation. Given the lack of reconciliation with the First Peoples of this country, that gesture feels fitting. 

At the same time, one is reminded of the significance of red in Chinese culture, where the colour symbolises good luck, vitality, creativity and long life (amongst other things). Interestingly, your given name ‘Hong’ also means red. Through this association, one begins to intuit an auto-biographical connection between your story and the central story of Australia in the painting. 

Through an appreciation of the significance of colour, one begins to see the painting more in terms of Chinese thinking through the Chinese-Australian experience. Specifically, how the painting’s composition embodies the principles of feng shui, a traditional practice of ancient China that uses energy forces to harmonise individuals with their surrounding environment.

Perhaps, through this association with Chinese cultural heritage and your autobiography, the painting represents a more hopeful narrative of a transformed or transforming Australia, where diverse peoples, flora and fauna live harmoniously together on this Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander land.  

Can you expand a little on these tensions and connections – that red centre, its linkages to Chinese culture, the history of Australia and your own story?

ET—6) I’d like to turn now to Shan Hai Jing 2021, which continues your spiritual search, this time inspired by The Classic of Mountains and Seas / Shan Hai Jing (hereafter the “Shan Hai Jing”).

For our readers/viewers, who may not know, this extraordinary text is believed to have existed in one form as early as the third century BC. Authorship was traditionally attributed to the mythical figure Yu the Great. However, the consensus amongst contemporary scholars is that the text was written by various unknown authors over several centuries. The text is divided into eighteen books. (1)

The integral section is the first five books that describe 447 mountains and rivers in the south, west, northeast and central regions of ancient China. Books six to eighteen describe foreign peoples and places beyond the periphery of ancient China or at the rim of ancient Chinese culture and civilisation. Book eighteen opens with geographic passages but enlarges into an account of largely mythical or divine origins. As the scholar Anne Birrell has noted in her translation of the text, China has long been a land-locked country. So, the organising principles of the Shan Hai Jing have less to do with geography and more to do with cosmology and mythography. Indeed, the Classic can be thought of as the source and origin of ancient Chinese mythology, where some 204 mythical figures are presented. (1)

Hong, at first, knowing a little of your interests in the connections between literature and painting and the history of patronage in the arts, I wondered if the painting's story was about the legendary Chinese Emperor 'Huangdi'. For those who do not know, the so-called 'Yellow Emperor' was a patron of Daoism (Taoism) (one of China's main religions and philosophies) and the inventor of Chinese characters, Cangjie /倉頡. He is also credited with civilising the earth, teaching people many skills, and inventing numerous useful items, including the wheel, armour and weapons, ships, writing, the compass, and coined money. Indeed, it is said that before Huangdi came to the throne, order and government were unknown in the world. He introduced systems of government and law to humankind, and he also invented music and the arts. However, as I analysed the text on the painting more closely, I wondered if its focus was the 不死民 / 'undead people', 'neverdie' or the 'immortal people'? (1) p. xix, p.191 and p.110.

As the story goes, in the lands of the Neverdie Folk, there is an immortal tree that bestows immortality upon its people. In his writings, the Chinese historian, poet, and writer Guo Pu (AD 276–324) - one of China's foremost commentators on ancient texts also regarded as the father of feng shui - is said to have described the sacred tree. It is also said that the poet Tao Yuanming (365?–427) describes the 'immortal country' in his poem 'Reading Shan Hai Jing' – which I'd love to locate (a fascinating scholarly article on his life here). 

Can you tell us more about the painting and the stories that inspired it?

Note:—To borrow Birrell's English translation, press the button below. Or, email info@correspondences.work to borrow a copy from correspondences. Another translation, edited with commentary by Richard E. Strassberg, is also worth exploring entitled A Chinese bestiary : strange creatures from the guideways through mountains and seas = [Shan hai jing]. 

ET—7) One of the most compelling aspects of this work is the beautiful calligraphic text. Through this and the painting’s verticalised format, the work is recognisable as a hanging scroll painting (a form that originated from literature and other texts written on silk banners in ancient China). The format encourages the viewer to look top to bottom, rather than left to write, as is the habit of the Westernised viewer. 

Whilst one can intuit the connection to classical Chinese calligraphy, the composition – particularly the placement of the text – is refreshingly unique and abstract. Fragments of text surround the figure/Yellow Emperor (sometimes enclosed in a circle or box or floating free). This fragmentary state is wonderfully fitting with the Shan Hai Jing, where the myths are frequently fragments rather than extended narratives. 

As the scholar Birrell notes in this “fragmented, minimalist expression, it is possible to conjecture that they appear as early Greek myth once did, before Homer and Hesiod, and later, for Roman myth, Ovid rewrote the ancient mythology, systemising, standardising and homogenising a once vibrantly discordant set of traditions” (pxxi). 

Hong, can you tell us a little about the composition, particularly the relationships between text and image?

ET—8) In her translation Birrell speculates as to the reasoning for this fragmentation in the Shan Hai Jing. Her theories range from the stories being so familiar so as not to need an explanation to aspects of the story being lost over time (during a time where we relied on oral accounts sometimes writing things down, sometimes not), to motives of deliberate concealment to preserve cultural heritage. Thinking about the idea of place through this abstractive, mythopoetic lens is enormously interesting. It opens up to the ability to be uncertain – something fiercely at odds with modern-day ways of thinking about geography and life in general. I’m interested in what you think?

ET—9) Hong, the work itself is monumental. Comprising three paintings, each measuring around 4.5 metres in length, one might think of it as a traditional 'hall painting' (中堂畫) depicting one complicated subject. However, unlike a hall painting which would be presented as a panoramic screen (通景屏), consisting of several hanging scrolls presented alongside one another, you have joined them together to present a wonderfully fresh re-visualisation.

The work is painted in ink on French silk paper. The paper has the most beguiling translucency, which feeds into the 'other worldly' feeling of the painting's narrative. Would you tell us a little about the significance of the materiality and the reasoning for your choice of French silk specifically? 

I'm also interested in your treatment of colour in the artwork. Is there a sense of this beautiful blueish-grey symbolising something?

ET—10) Alongside the painting, you have made a beautiful book of ink drawings and calligraphic text excerpts. It is lovely to consider the book in dialogue with the painting, especially when one considers that the art form of scroll painting originated from literature. It is a reminder of the fluidity of creative expression - the way stories are told in so many different ways.

Why do you feel it is important to remember these stories from the Shan Hai Jing and find new ways of expressing them to wider audiences – not just in the form of image but also text? What would you like the 21st-century viewer in Australia to draw from your interpretation of these stories?