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Song Dong （宋冬）
Beijing-based artist Song Dong was born on the eve of the Cultural Revolution in 1966. Often referred to as a conceptualist， his works struggle to expose the impermanence and transience of human endeavor， ranging from performance and video to photography， theater and sculpture. As a pioneer of contemporary Chinese art， Song explores the intricate connection between life and art， such as how to illustrate traditional philosophy in an age of loss and how the East/West dichotomy is an easily overcome trope. His most representative works include“Breathing” （1996）， “Touching My Father” （1997）， “Crumpling Shanghai”（2000）， “Waste Not” （2005） and “Intelligence of the Poor” （2005）. Song is currently represented by Pace Beijing.
These “Waste Not” works feature 10，000 trinkets and odds and ends hoarded by Zhao Xiangyuan， Song Dong’s mother. Song’s mother was born in to a rich family in 1938， but the horrors of the 1950s took their tragic toll， a time when even a bar of soap required the correct ticket and a long queue. This was the impetus for her hoarding， never throwing anything away， not even an empty bottle. For her， “waste not” literally meant“want not”. But there is a deeper meaning： obsession and grief.
How did all this junk become an exhibition？ In 2002， Song’s father died suddenly， a terrible blow to his inconsolable mother. She gathered all the trinkets she had collected and shoved them into the rooms because—in her grief—she believed all the rooms were too empty after her husband had died. When explaining her obsession to her son， she used a piece of paper as an example： it can be used as a canvas for art， and when that’s done， it can be used to make paper cranes or origami； after that it can be used to wrap other things； as its final act， it can be used to light a briquette to keep the family warm， indicative of her time， her life and her struggle. In 2005， Song proposed they turn the accumulated debris into an art project. In Beijing’s 798 Factory， they sorted all the junk into different types and arranged them around a dismantled section of the original wood house. During the exhibition in Beijing， Song’s mother shared stories with the patrons， bringing some of the older visitors to tears when the memories of those times were so vividly evoked. “Waste Not” is not just of Song’s mother’s obsession， but rather a collective memory of a generation of famine and shortage. For many of the older generation， it is a time unspoken， but—through Song Dong’s work—it can be seen and relived. Song’s mother is now passed away， like so many from that generation of struggle； but this artwork stands in testament to her generation’s tribulations and survival， lest we forget. - aliCia zhang （张华阳） Yao Lu’s “New Landscape” series depicts mountains and trees， waterfalls and rivers， all features of classical Chinese mountain-and-water paintings， but upon closer inspection， it reveals something incredible. In 2004， while walking past the Central Academy of Fine Arts， Yao noticed that construction sites， with their big mounds of earth covered by green dustproof nets， closely resembled classical Chinese paintings， inspiring him to create these works. Yao says that many people have noticed this association， and it is becoming more and more obvious. With this in mind， he used his talent as an artist to express and expose the quality of more modern Chinese landscapes， inspiration from destruction， construction， relocation， garbage and landfills. Yao went in search of these modern soon-to-be masterpieces/ disaster areas， then he re-arranged them with photo editing tech， later choosing a suitable ancient landscape as a background to add elements such as pavilions and mist. These works fool the eye at first glance， but if you look closely， you can see industrial chimneys， construction workers and notice boards. Take a close look at the red square board in this work which says： “The mound is very dangerous， people are forbidden”（堆土处危险，严禁站人 du～ t^ ch& w8ixi2n， y1nj#n zh3n r9n）. To finish off， he smoothes the overall look digitally. On his works， Yao borrows elements from ancient paintings with similar compositions and attempts to mirror the form as much as possible. For example， this work， “Dwelling in the Fuchun Mountains” makes allusions to a classical painting by the acclaimed Chinese painter Huang Gongwang（黄公望， 1269–1354） from the Yuan Dynasty （1206–1368）. However， Yao’s post-modern methods—restructuring perception itself—give these ancient paintings a whole new life. The Chinese idiom， “graft one twig on another”（移花接木 y！ hu` ji8 m&） seems duly apt. Yao claims he chose traditional Chinese painting because it is visual and poetic， while garbage is destructive and repulsive， a contrast that seems to bring the current situation into focus. It is an inquiry into splendor and filth in the world we experience， the rack and ruin of our own environment and if development is really worth all we stand to lose. - a.z.
Beijing-based artist Song Dong was born on the eve of the Cultural Revolution in 1966. Often referred to as a conceptualist， his works struggle to expose the impermanence and transience of human endeavor， ranging from performance and video to photography， theater and sculpture. As a pioneer of contemporary Chinese art， Song explores the intricate connection between life and art， such as how to illustrate traditional philosophy in an age of loss and how the East/West dichotomy is an easily overcome trope. His most representative works include“Breathing” （1996）， “Touching My Father” （1997）， “Crumpling Shanghai”（2000）， “Waste Not” （2005） and “Intelligence of the Poor” （2005）. Song is currently represented by Pace Beijing.
These “Waste Not” works feature 10，000 trinkets and odds and ends hoarded by Zhao Xiangyuan， Song Dong’s mother. Song’s mother was born in to a rich family in 1938， but the horrors of the 1950s took their tragic toll， a time when even a bar of soap required the correct ticket and a long queue. This was the impetus for her hoarding， never throwing anything away， not even an empty bottle. For her， “waste not” literally meant“want not”. But there is a deeper meaning： obsession and grief.
How did all this junk become an exhibition？ In 2002， Song’s father died suddenly， a terrible blow to his inconsolable mother. She gathered all the trinkets she had collected and shoved them into the rooms because—in her grief—she believed all the rooms were too empty after her husband had died. When explaining her obsession to her son， she used a piece of paper as an example： it can be used as a canvas for art， and when that’s done， it can be used to make paper cranes or origami； after that it can be used to wrap other things； as its final act， it can be used to light a briquette to keep the family warm， indicative of her time， her life and her struggle. In 2005， Song proposed they turn the accumulated debris into an art project. In Beijing’s 798 Factory， they sorted all the junk into different types and arranged them around a dismantled section of the original wood house. During the exhibition in Beijing， Song’s mother shared stories with the patrons， bringing some of the older visitors to tears when the memories of those times were so vividly evoked. “Waste Not” is not just of Song’s mother’s obsession， but rather a collective memory of a generation of famine and shortage. For many of the older generation， it is a time unspoken， but—through Song Dong’s work—it can be seen and relived. Song’s mother is now passed away， like so many from that generation of struggle； but this artwork stands in testament to her generation’s tribulations and survival， lest we forget. - aliCia zhang （张华阳） Yao Lu’s “New Landscape” series depicts mountains and trees， waterfalls and rivers， all features of classical Chinese mountain-and-water paintings， but upon closer inspection， it reveals something incredible. In 2004， while walking past the Central Academy of Fine Arts， Yao noticed that construction sites， with their big mounds of earth covered by green dustproof nets， closely resembled classical Chinese paintings， inspiring him to create these works. Yao says that many people have noticed this association， and it is becoming more and more obvious. With this in mind， he used his talent as an artist to express and expose the quality of more modern Chinese landscapes， inspiration from destruction， construction， relocation， garbage and landfills. Yao went in search of these modern soon-to-be masterpieces/ disaster areas， then he re-arranged them with photo editing tech， later choosing a suitable ancient landscape as a background to add elements such as pavilions and mist. These works fool the eye at first glance， but if you look closely， you can see industrial chimneys， construction workers and notice boards. Take a close look at the red square board in this work which says： “The mound is very dangerous， people are forbidden”（堆土处危险，严禁站人 du～ t^ ch& w8ixi2n， y1nj#n zh3n r9n）. To finish off， he smoothes the overall look digitally. On his works， Yao borrows elements from ancient paintings with similar compositions and attempts to mirror the form as much as possible. For example， this work， “Dwelling in the Fuchun Mountains” makes allusions to a classical painting by the acclaimed Chinese painter Huang Gongwang（黄公望， 1269–1354） from the Yuan Dynasty （1206–1368）. However， Yao’s post-modern methods—restructuring perception itself—give these ancient paintings a whole new life. The Chinese idiom， “graft one twig on another”（移花接木 y！ hu` ji8 m&） seems duly apt. Yao claims he chose traditional Chinese painting because it is visual and poetic， while garbage is destructive and repulsive， a contrast that seems to bring the current situation into focus. It is an inquiry into splendor and filth in the world we experience， the rack and ruin of our own environment and if development is really worth all we stand to lose. - a.z.