Tony Wong: Tony Wong Solo Exhibition

6 - 28 January 2007

Like a Wolverine Groping about in the Gloomy Depths of the Soul

 

By Rita Chang Yuan Chien  

 

 

There are many different strategies and points of entry when undertaking a critical reading of a painter’s work.  Tony Wong has had dozens of exhibitions throughout his life, and of course this means many curators and critics have closely analyzed and interpreted his work. In its formal aspects, many people have similarly commented that Tony Wong’s work is a “traversal of the territory between the abstract and figurative realms, his articulation of and reference to fragmented cultural and historical components form a unique individual style, and deliver a similar satisfaction to these earlier schools.”[1]

 

He often daubs oil paint on his canvasses, continuously scribbling and covering until he eventually blends all relationships of space and time with color.  Although the paintings still have form, they have indistinct boundaries and contours, which actually enhance the audience’s awareness of the artist’s mind/hand relationship.  Reading the text and themes, many people have described how he uses Chinese poetry and literature, western mythological proverbs, and also expressions related to religion and philosophy and links them to the unique meaning expressed by his semiotic language.  He is especially fond of developing themes related to love and enmity between the sexes and satirizing human weaknesses.  There are many examples of this kind of content in this exhibition which seem like “pollination” crossed with “flirtation”.  His figures appear undeveloped in these situations blending East and West, yet produce abundantly interesting images; like one of a long haired woman which could be a mountain nymph from a Chinese myth, or perhaps an elf from a western myth.  Men drifting within a western context seem relatively barbaric in parading their obsessions, but in an eastern context this may indicate insanity or addiction. Situations like these cause the reader to automatically make certain assumptions.  Because of this, in 1998 Yang Wen-i referred to Tony Wong as “a virtuoso of cultural symbolism”.[2]

 

In my opinion, in terms of a formal reading, we can rely on these existing writings to effortlessly enter Tony Wong’s world.  However, in addition to form and style, what other ways are there to understand an artist or explain his or her work?  When I see Tony Wong’s paintings, I think there is an obvious instability that comes purely from their physicality, or some disturbance in the deep layers of his consciousness that the style cannot wholly account for or cannot be summarized by terms such as multiple meanings, banter or ambiguity.  As a result, I have attempted to quietly gaze at these works and absorb the images, boring into the pigments and slowly becoming conscious of my own reaction to the work to find a way to read his art in a way other than the formal analysis cited above.  In this way, I have slowly come to appreciate that Tony Wong is like a wolverine, attempting to sound out the deep and indistinct depths of the soul.  In Tony Wong’s paintings, our intuition tells us that these are worlds suffused with bruises and shadows.  The protagonists in his paintings seem to be crawling forward on their hands and knees, hazarding frequent gales and heavy rains in their solitary journeys, and inevitably fall deeply into a morass of emptiness, alienation, grief, betrayal, horror or conflicted love.  Because the morass and the protagonist dissolve into an indivisible whole, it can’t be seen clearly if the source of the anxious melancholy is the environment or the self, and furthermore roads that traverse his tangled paintings are generally full of thorns and thistles.  Throughout his works there are no exits; the main figures are either struggling or drowning in a quagmire, or getting their hair entangled in the branches of a tree or bound to the ground.  Ultimately, there is no way for them to extricate themselves from their odious fates and avoid utter destruction.  In another light, this also hints at the spirit’s ability to automatically manufacture its own illnesses, depressions, abnormalities and torments. The artist repeatedly overlaps fields of color to increase the sense of opacity in the paintings; there are absolutely no light or shadows, and all the figures, objects, mountains, water, flowers, grass, birds and animals are in a timeless and weightless world without a clear light source.  He links this relaxed theme of “Buzzing” with postures formed with his individualistic technique of smearing and daubing paint.  The figures wallow in ghastly pools of danger and uncertainty, and their souls wonder if they should rest inthe pond or stay vigilant in a moment pregnant with crisis.  Even when he uses thematic elements of still life like plums, orchids, bamboo and chrysanthemums, they seem to possess their own spirit; under the rough handling of his painting technique, his use of size and proportion and meticulous deformations, these still life elements have become no longer “still”,but rather seem like writhing and aggressive souls that are still growing, proliferating and changing in shape.

 

The soul, according to Aristotle’s classical definition, is actually the source of life, and throughout history has had its meaning enriched and extended with themes such as fire providing warmth, reproduction supporting inspiration, superstition creating dreamscapes and love producing hysteria.  The soul is like a vast territory with its own intrinsic landscape which borders many realms, such as dreams, imagination, poetry, religion, myths, death and the world of the dead, and is our parallax point for participating in the world of culture.[3]  Tony Wong’s paintings seek inspiration from these categories, and this provides a means of interpretation which lies beyond the realm of rationality.  Besides this, both “painting as sculpture” and “sculpture as painting” emerge from his painstaking construction technique, and this allows his works to enter a surreal realm by abandoning the landscape’s horizon line and guide the viewer into deep layers of latent consciousness. This calls to mind a description of being drunk for the first time in Carl Jung’s autobiography: 

 

“I discovered this little cup could make me feel like I was ascending to heaven, entering a completely new and unexpected state of consciousness.  Furthermore, there was no intrinsic or extrinsic “self” or “other”,the ego and persona both disappeared, circumspection and cowardice evaporated into thin air, heaven and earth, the universe and everything in it crawled, circled in the air, revolved, rose and fell, and all without exception became an integrated whole.  I felt embarrassed and joyful in this unparalleled intoxication, like I was sinking deeply into an exceedingly happy and boundless meditation.  Because billowing waves were rising and falling, I clung to stationary objects with my eyes, hands and both feet to maintain my balance.  I felt the street undulating and the houses and trees swaying back and forth.”[4]

 

I have no other option but to admire Tony Wong’s courage in exposing himself in this way; through his work he faces the desire, dread, anxiety and restlessness within his soul.  He himself acknowledges this brutal world, which seems to be waiting to ambush someone as they walk out of a church, or at anytime unfurl a powerful and effortlessly destructive attack.  Nonetheless, in the end his ultimate statement isn’t one of anger or melancholy, but rather the kind of uncertainty or distress of a soul that may or may not have been bribed by the devil.  His figures often have big heads and small bodies and they suffer from thinking too much but lack the strength (or the will) to put their thoughts into practice, and so the entire conflict exists only in their minds.

 

To fulfill himself as a painter, it is necessary for Tony Wong to penetrate his intrinsic self, penetrate his very soul and completely give himself over to his work.  Furthermore, he cannot paint for an audience—which would make his work a dubious performance at best; or completely paint for self reflection—which would lead to hypocrisy or even devolved into self indulgent hysteria since he would only be imitating his observations and the observed psychological state cannot continue to live.[5]  A better way would be to find a “safe companion”,and the creative goal would be to consign himself over to this companion.  The key to appreciating Tony Wong’s art resides in a corresponding experience between the viewer and the work, which can’t be affected or hypocritical, but should arouse a sincere catharsis for this safe companion. Things which produce a catharsis may look like hysteria, but in no way indicate free improvisation, but rather possess a genuine transmission of emotion, and ultimately can create a trail of resilience through the soul.  It seems that the original self needn’t be confined by its skin, and following this kind of catharsis can extend into an open domain.  Tony Wong has provided this kind of extension all along and at times has gotten lost while pursuing his long journey.  When he last presented a solo exhibition in Taipei in 2000, we saw his work gradually returning to its native place, where “native place” indicates an intrinsic and original home, but I don’t dare say where this journey back to the original home might end.  Where is the probable place of transcendence?  I can only ask: Is it always interesting?  At this point, there is only one role for the audience to play—that is the role of the safe companion, and I say no more, since the safe companion doesn’t say too much.



 

[1]Yang Wen-i, “A Virtuoso of Cultural Symbolism”,Tony Wong(Taipei: Lin & Keng Gallery, 1998), p. 2.

[2]Yang Wen-i, p. 2.  

[3]Phil Cousineau, Editor, Soul: An Archaeology(Taipei: New Century Publishing, 1998), p. 4.

[4]Carl Jung, Memories, Dreams, Reflections(Taipei: Living Psychology Publishers, 1997), p.113-114.

[5]Richard Schechner, (extracts from interview with Jerzy Grotowski)—a few questions concerning the technical and ethical nature of art.