Exhibition |
THE
WAY OF WATER:
The
Art of Meng Zhao
Jeffrey
Hantover
Rocks, shaped by water, air
and time, graced Chinese gardens by the Han dynasty. Rocks as miniature
mountains and jagged landscapes have held pride of place in literati studios
since the Song, and rocks have been the building blocks of landscape painting
throughout Chinese history. For over millennium Chinese scholars’ rocks have
been objects of contemplation and meditation and the physical embodiment of
Daoist thought about man and nature. When contemporary ceramic artist chooses to
recreate in clay what nature has carved so well in limestone, it raises question
of why: Isn’t this like bringing coals to Newcastle or clay to Jingdezhen?
Meng Zhao’s ceramic works answer that question by rising
above virtuoso imitation. They are independent works of art that break new
ground at the same time as they affirm tradition and continue the ongoing
dialogue of present and past that so marks contemporary Chinese art. Meng Zhao
was born in
Out
of this unique personal history and shared culture of ideas and art, Meng Zhao
is creating objects to look at and think with.
Like the scholars’ rocks that inspire them, his
sculptures are for him objects of contemplation and meditation. Because of their
abstract and formal qualities, they give free rein to the imagination more so
than representational sculpture which does not give the viewer space to ask
questions (the answer most often already given). Mi Fu, the 11th century painter
and calligrapher, went on spirit journeys through the cavities in his stone
inkstone. Six centuries later another scholar, Lin Youlin, expressed common
literati theme when he praised rocks as the best vehicle to “cause people to
go beyond themselves.” Like their limestone forbearers, Meng Zhao’s
fantastic rocks invite you to touch them, to pause, slow down and contemplate
the larger natural world of which they and we are part.
Meng Zhao in creating scholars’
rocks in ceramic is continuing tradition within Chinese art that dates
back at least to the Ming dynasty but has been lost to
general knowledge. Richard Rosen
Meng Zhao’s art is not only rooted in specific Chinese ceramic
tradition and the broader tradition of one material used to imitate another
Yixing teapots made to look like leather, wood or bamboo and porcelain snuff
bottles made to pass for jade but is consciously informed by larger currents of
Chinese philosophical thought. When Meng Zhao lies on the ground to photograph
rocks in the shifting shapes of clouds, he sees them through the lens of an
ancient belief in rocks as the petrified roots of clouds. When he holds
scholars’ rock in his hand and examines the holes and perforations made by the
drip and flow of water and when he begins to build piece, he considers actions
from within cultural framework that extends beyond the confines of the Harvard
Ceramic Studio.
Water as
philosophical concept and physical reality are central to Meng Zhao’s work.
From 1998 to 2003 he did series, Water Pieces, which explored the abstract
movement of water. He quotes with ease Lao Tze’s adage on the paradox of
water: “Nothing is softer or more flexible than water, yet nothing can resist
it.” Early in his career, he would sketch the intended sculpture before
beginning: everything was planned. Now he does just the opposite. He tries to
cultivate what in Daoism is called, pu, passive state of receptiveness, of
perception without preconception: “So my mind is free and my hands are free
when my fingers touch the clay.” For Meng Zhao, the process of creating
sculptural rock is process of mimicking the natural force of water that created
the scholars’ rock. “I put myself in the position of water eating away the
stone,” he says. Just as water working on the rock creates as it destroys,
Meng Zhao imagines the path the water might take and strips and gouges the clay
in an act of creative destruction.
If the work was
simply virtuoso imitation of scholars’ rock, its texture and color an exact
simulacrum of the original, Meng Zhao’s work would warrant respectful applause
but only passing attention. Because he harnesses his technical skill to
replicate the processes of nature itself, he achieves an artistry beyond mere
imitation. Dedicated to process rather than externalities, Meng Zhao creates
sculptures that express the spiritual energy of the original rocks so valued by
the Chinese and connoisseurs. Meng Zhao’s rocks become like Nature’s work
portals to worlds outside ourselves. Perhaps at time when many feel small and
adrift, buffeted by external forces beyond their control, meditation on objects
that speak of world beyond ourselves is paradoxically comforting.
Jeffrey
Hantover is writer living in New York. His novel, The Jewel Trader of Pegu, was
published by Harper Perennial in 2009.
Exhibition |