Ethereal light emanates from Huang Dan’s large ink painting Grand (2019), depicting pine trees with shimmering needles against the black sky. The six-meter-long painting fit the narrow but high-ceilinged space toward the back of Beijing’s N3 Contemporary Art gallery, where the artist’s 2019 solo show “Raw” opened in April.
Born in Guangxi in 1979, Huang took up the brush from an early age, playing with art supplies belonging to her father Huang Gesheng, the respected traditional Chinese landscape painter and former dean at Guangxi Art Academy. The younger artist subsequently entered Beijing’s Central Academy of Fine Arts to pursue Bachelor’s and Master’s degrees in traditional Chinese painting.
Huang’s work is characteristically powerful and bold. This monumentality is not merely achieved through the use of large sheets of xuan paper, but also by avoiding fine lines and concentrating on abstracted form and mass, saturated in vibrant natural mineral colors. For example, Union (2019) shows a close-up of succulent plant leaves in a dominant shade of teal blue. Other works included in “Raw” evoke similarly powerful images seemingly achieved with a few simple strokes. Nooshfar Afnan met Huang in November to discuss her recent ink paintings and the shift to greater abstraction in her practice.
HUANG DAN, Union, 2019, pigment on paper, 141.5 × 271 cm. Courtesy the artist and N3 Contemporary Art, Beijing.
What inspires your art? Tell us about your working process.
There is never a sudden flash of inspiration that will move me to action. I believe it is more like a science experiment. It has to be tested again and again and advanced further and further. I see a distant goal, but I am not sure what it is exactly and that’s what makes it interesting.
I start with many small sketches of things I am interested in, and then develop these step by step. Then I consider their weaknesses and merits and decide what aspect I want to develop. Based on that analysis, most ideas are discarded, and another round of sketching begins. The painting tells me how to proceed. Sometimes, I’ll think that at this moment I won’t be able to paint it the way I want to, so I’ll put it aside. But I’ll remember it, and after three months or a year, I will return to it. I wait until I figure out the best way.
Many of your works deal with the natural world. Why?
I want to show the power of life, therefore I will find plants and oceans and natural things. Yet you can also see that life is not easy. No matter what kind of plant, when you look at it from close up, it is just magnificent. Therefore, I paint these things, enlarge them or treat them as the principal subject just to say that life is great.
I always paint topics related to life. Of course, at every stage in life one’s understanding of what life is changes but it has remained a constant theme throughout. What I clearly do not want to paint is for example subjects related to politics, superficial matters, things that are too detailed or beautiful.
Tell us about your use of color in addition to traditional black ink.
It’s very simple; I use maybe no more than five colors in total. For example, in Unspeakable Awe (2017), this shade of vermilion, made from cinnabar, is the color of stones and bricks, a traditional mineral color utilized in Dunhuang murals. Yet it was never used within traditional Chinese ink painting because in ancient times it was only available in remote areas. No one applies it in such large areas and so thickly. I apply it to the main subject, such as a horse in Observing (2014), whereas in traditional Chinese ink painting it is only used as an embellishment to color clothes or fruits.
How do you strike a balance between tradition and innovation in your art practice?
I want to build upon tradition, not copy and follow it. If we compare tradition to a mountain, then I am already standing on this mountain. I don’t look to see where I am standing. If I can find my own path, then I have found the answer. It is not a contradiction.
There has been a move toward greater abstraction in your works in recent years. Could you elaborate on that?
Abstraction is my direction; that’s very clear. What I am most dissatisfied with is that my work is not abstract enough. Abstraction is very difficult to achieve no matter what the medium. Art, in my opinion, is essentially abstract. Musical notes, texts, and images are all means of abstraction. Even a figurative painting is an abstract creation—the artist creates what was not there before: line, color, and shape. I intend to transform shapes so they can look more free, uncontrolled, and less trapped in figuration. What I call abstraction is different from what is defined as abstract expressionism. Rather it is the creation of things that never existed and are unreal.
Abstraction requires a lot of courage; however, moving toward abstraction is the only way forward. I feel that every generation of artists makes efforts toward greater abstraction and draws closer. Except traditional Chinese painting is very abstract, and some modern Chinese painting excessively realistic—actually a bit backwards. Because abstraction is so difficult, only a few dare to do it.
Recent paintings from your last show, “Raw,” such as Grand and Listening to the Pines (2019), or the earlier Unspeakable Awe all capture an ethereal light that conveys an aura of spirituality. Tell us more about these particular works.
The way I see it, there is no separation between East and West. With regards to this kind of spirituality and ideology in painting, isn’t it the foundation of every kind of art? Not something very high or mysterious. Of course, I am Chinese. I am Oriental. There is no way to distinguish this from Western thought. You are probably referring to some kind of Eastern spirituality.
I was not implying a separate kind of Eastern mysticism, but rather a sense of spirituality from the paintings’ hints at the intangible, which one might say of works by Mark Rothko or Mark Tobey.
Rothko is one of my favorite artists. It makes me happy to know that we both tackle the same problem in our art. Such spirituality is a necessary condition for artists. Therefore, I feel that art itself is a product of spirituality.
What I am aiming at in my paintings is power. Because I eschew details, there is great strength. Towards the end of his career, Rothko only used three bands of color, nothing else. It took a lifetime to discover that secret. I would be very happy if I could discover that [the underlying principle], but anxious that I still haven’t.
One thing I find difficult to achieve is to express myself clearly using minimal visual clues. This is related to one’s personality. It has also something to do with the sense of power I want to convey in my work. I think most artists are pessimistic; otherwise they would have nothing to paint. The mode of expression is not always the same, but the theme is a dark outlook on life. My heart is heavy, but I don’t give up. I want to express this sense of power and the power of life. The works have radiance and illumination, praising the vitality of life.
HUANG DAN, Listening to the Pines, 2019, ink on paper, 223 × 615 cm. Courtesy the artist and N3 Contemporary Art, Beijing.
There are few ink art practitioners who are female. Why do you think that is?
Like in every profession, outstanding women are underrepresented in the art world as well. When I started out at university, there was an equal ratio of female to male students, but women have more excuses to give up, such as caring for their family and raising kids. There are few great or real artists because it is very difficult. I enjoy spending time with my child, so there is no way that I can give that up, or other parts of life. At the same time, I am conscious that I could be spending that time doing more work. I wish I could simulate a “genius” artist who cares for nothing else in the world except their art. But it is hard to achieve; it needs courage. I am too rational, too normal. In the context of art, it is not good to be too rational.
Who are some female artists you admire?
I like [South African artist] Marlene Dumas’ attitude toward artmaking. She gave me a lot of inspiration. Not in terms of what to paint, but she influenced my attitude profoundly, the state I should be in while doing art. Her art is very refreshing. I feel that she immediately executes an idea that comes to her, without much thought or deep reflection. She once said something like “I want to express even if my idea is wrong.” In the past, I thought I had a lifetime to paint, so why hurry. However, after seeing Dumas’ work, I realized that one has to constantly stay in a positive frame of mind, to work and express oneself as quickly as possible without further delay.
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