艺术和欲望,是这个时代的助燃剂
采访:钟刚
原载于《冬谈:介入现场与重返过去》
深圳是一座欲望和梦想推动的城市,既被外界寄予期待,又试图自我解放。即便在瘟疫时期亦是如此,它既有燃烧的红色激情,也在持续不断地实现和扩展私人领域的主张和行动。
在这样一个城市背景下,我们相信,围绕这个特别城市所展开的艺术家口述和访谈的工作就具有了某种异质标本的意义,它不只是关于艺术,还将叙说转向个体和时代的纵深地带。这也正是我们热衷于讨论深圳的原因所在,也是我们将深圳艺术家放在这个特别城市的语境下来谈论的出发点。
杨勇就是这样一位深圳艺术家,1990年代初来到深圳,在这座城市,他开始了自己的艺术生涯,一路追逐和实现,遭遇和冲撞,妥协和进逼。他在和我第一次见面时就坦言,喜欢他的人和不喜欢他的人各占一半。但他并没有打算向任何一方作出彻底的让步,他抗拒将自己简化为一个单向度的人。他既游离在两者之间,又在“之间”的状态中建构自己的叙述方式和工作逻辑,“之间”于他而言,已经成为他最看重的立场和价值。
加速度
钟刚:你来深圳有二十多年了,你早期的摄影作品也是在深圳拍摄完成的,表现的是这个城市的躁动、欲望,还有那个时代的精神。后来你一直在深圳工作和生活,虽然也在北京租了工作室,但似乎去北京也不多。过去这二十多年,深圳的变化很大,你的变化也很大,我首先想和你聊一个话题,这个城市的“加速度”带给你的影响是什么?
杨勇:我以前说过深圳这个城市,就像大排档的塑料凳子一样,快速的压成型了。我在这个城市,展开了我的新的艺术语言,找到了一种来自于我的生活的创作方式,甚至发明了一种摄影的方式,那是一种介乎于即兴和导演之间的模糊状态,后来我发现“之间”这个东西一直在影响着我做很多事情,我在几个事情的边界上工作。
全国各地的年轻人来到这个高速发展的城市,他们的不适应,他们的焦虑,他们的迷茫,他们的快乐,让这个城市非常躁动,1990年代的深圳特别有意思,我觉得那个时候深圳人的状态真的比现在有意思多了,现在太乏味,大家喜欢的就那么点儿东西,以前还有点儿多元化,对深圳来说这种多元化,人格的这种多元化,非常可贵。我家里还保存了一些当时采访我的报纸,1999年我接受美国ART News的采访,同时也作为当时巴塞尔艺术博览会亚洲观察员的Jonathan Napack在后来的文章里写到:“这个地方将是中国的未来”,这个城市很有意思,当时的深圳很前卫,它在中国城市当中的定位是要成为一个先锋城市。只是现在不怎么提了,或许是这个城市度过了它的青春期。
我其实跟这个城市的变化一起在成长,我的作品随着这种城市硬件的变化,人的心态的变化,呈现出一种特殊的城市气息,那是我的摄影作品最直观的一种表达。但我不太愿意一直按步就班地成为一个所谓的观念摄影家,我也明白一年推出一两个系列,稳稳地占据着某种风格的板块,但我更愿意当一个不被媒介束缚的艺术家,有机会我就去做装置,有机会就要去画画,我也还会去做录像作品,就像之前我做了策展、设计建造了清水混凝土的构筑物。我希望我的表达是多元的,就像我用广东话、普通话、四川话、英文讲同一件事情,我用什么话讲其实不太重要,重要的是我讲的内容是什么。我在乎的是我要表达什么,而不是媒介本身。
钟刚:因为UABB宝安桥头分展场的举办,我去到桥头社区,发现“关外”有一股野生的力量,当中肯定有很多闯荡的激情和对未来的想象,我想深圳就是靠这种躁动的力量推动它发展到今天。但今天的深圳,在进阶,在升维,有些东西也在消逝,比如城市生活中那股非常有生命力的东西。
杨勇:相比1990年代的深圳,今天的城市失去了很多温度,失去了很多小街小巷,失去了很多小摊贩,这个城市越来越主动地去回应城市精英主义的诉求。这个变化虽然会有遗憾,但深圳要面对它的未来,或者是管理者们认同的未来,或者是市民们希望的一种发展的未来,乃至是国家希望的未来。 但我认为深圳无论怎么发展,非常重要的一点是我们如何把文化和艺术的价值线索梳理和保留下来,在这方面,深圳建筑师和设计师做得比艺术家们要好,他们会有很多的联合性的协会在持续推动,也非常有意识地保存和研究他们的实践。如果1990年代是印刷业推动下的平面设计行业的发展,2000年以后是城市大发展推动下的建筑师群体的崛起,未来会不会是艺术家这个群体会浮动起来?但好像这个群体太小,接不住这么一个特大城市的需求,这个城市的艺术研究力量还很薄弱,没有一本好的艺术杂志。 这个城市依然缺很多东西,未来需要有很多有识之士来拱这个火,深圳才能做起一些更像样子的事情。虽然深圳也有了一些不错的展览,也有一些企业家的情怀在推动一些事情,但它还需要一些有批判的、有立场的、有质感的东西,也许它不好看,更不好玩,但它的价值是不可替代的。这个城市真正的活力是什么,我们到底生产出怎样的一种艺术价值,我们待在这里的人要清楚这一点。
城市逻辑
钟刚:去年我们做了一本书叫《深圳眩晕》,今年因为疫情发生的变化有些意外,不少画廊关张,在深圳从事艺术工作,一方面有很多空间可以去做一些事情,但也要小心过度想象将自己带入危险的境地。你在深圳二十多年,在这个城市经历和见证了很多事情,你怎么看这一时一地的变化?
杨勇:深圳其实蛮复杂的,我一直没有觉得它某个时段有多大的改变,比如说三年前或者是几年前,我们看到一种乐观的、欣欣向荣的状况,多了很多画廊和博览会,不同地方的人来到这里,但我一直很奇怪,经济在改变这个城市的样子,也在改变这个城市的生活,但是文化改变它的速度真的很慢。我还记得是1999年,在香港的颜磊介绍梁文道来采访我,那时候他先采访了当时的文化局局长,采访完他之后,梁文道给我打电话,我们当时谁也不认识谁,他就问我深圳的文化现状是什么?我说深圳的文化不就是附庸风雅吗,我很直接。当然,附庸风雅也是一个好事,那是一种渴望进步的表现。
我好多年前就觉得深圳跟北京不同,跟上海不同,它跟广州相比,广州还有岭南文化作为城市坚硬强大的基础,当然这个基础也可能是阻碍,但是深圳没有这些东西,我以前总为这个城市辩解,别人说,你们深圳是文化沙漠,我反驳说,沙漠也是一种生态啊,沙漠里的一棵草或许比热带丛林里的一棵树的生命要顽强。后来,深圳发展到了某一个时段,好像这里有了很多展览,多了很多艺术家,企业、政府也越来越在乎这些事情,他们也开始投入。政府的逻辑当然是要照顾到市民城市文化生活的诉求,一个城市这么多人,你总得有一点文体生活吧,不能所有人一到周末都去逛商场,一个城市也不能只是鼓励所有年轻人都只对名牌感兴趣,为此政府也做了很多事情,盖美术馆,创立不同的双年展,政府出钱设立宣传文化基金和文体基金,这方面的推动,我们能看见某些硬件上的或者是一种轮廓上的效果。深圳还有另一条线,那就是民间发起的、自发的艺术行动,深圳也没有什么批评家,也没有职业策展人,这个生态都是缺的,更没有艺术基金会,这条民间的线索,你们在《深圳眩晕》当中也有某些梳理过。
景观
钟刚:深圳还有一个很特别的现象,有十几个双年展,你怎样来看待双年展成为一个非常特殊的城市文化景观?这是一个奇怪的现象,但背后肯定还是有具体原因和客观的需求在推动。
杨勇:这很像是某种意义上对文化需求的“大爆发”。当然,这十几个双年展各自出现的时间不同,他们的主办方不同,有不同口的政府单位和企业,甚至有一些是更小的力量在推动,每个展览想要表达的内容也不太一样。双年展本身并不意味着什么,双年展就是一个名词,两年做一次,为什么要两年做一次?因为这样可以准备得充分一点。也有因为双年展而改变城市形象的例子,深圳也希望用展览和活动对城市形象提升,这无疑是一个方法。双年展本身没问题,重要的是我们有多少展览和作品是留得下来的。国外也有很多巨烂的双年展,我们能看到的都是无数的聚焦所凝聚下来的东西。所以我认为双年展多,是一件好事,不是坏事,这说明这个城市有物质上的一种活力,这是一个好事,但是它的收获是不太一样的,有的是促进了水墨画的交流,有的是推动了建筑行业的交流,有的是以当代艺术名义来做一些事情。
费大为以前就写过一篇文章,他虚拟了许多双年展名字,特别吓人的单子,这种反讽也很有趣,我们不用有过多的负担来面对这个问题,遇到一个事情,进入一个板块,把它做好就行了。
钟刚:谈到这个问题,我觉得在双年展之外,本地的美术馆除了去做一些安全的、已经被肯定过的艺术家的展览,他们还可以更多地去下判断,去激励一批人或者是一代人,与他们共同成长,甚至通过收藏来发现在地艺术的价值。
杨勇:一个机构或者是一个城市,一个时代,不能只有一条线。去年冬天我去东京看U2的演唱会,我很兴奋,那是我的少年情结,开演当晚我快到了那个地方,一路上都没有什么大海报,我说怎么回事儿,这不是一件大事吗?然后陪我的朋友讲了一句话,让我心里咯噔了一下。他说在东京,其实有不同的大家喜欢的东西,但是大家喜欢的东西都会受到尊重,即便一些很小众的东西,也有它的空间。深圳这个城市的很多事情还只是开始,不管怎样,大家存活下来,然后形成交流机制,这个很重要,重要的是大家在某种行业里有一种公共层面上的交流和互动机制,然后再使得本来很小众的一个范围变得有一种活力和热度,再形成一定的凝聚力,这样发展下来肯定会产生一种很好的结果。
失败
钟刚:你前面谈到深圳存在一些企业家情怀在其中的推动,我来深圳的时间并不长,但也知道深圳真的是一个冒险的地方,很多人,目前似乎女性居多,她们的家庭在资本积累到一定程度后会去开画廊,我相信她们首先并不是要做一个经营,而是希望从事自己喜欢的艺术的事业,但很多人失败了,付出了代价。
杨勇:开画廊,就得找到一个市场路径。这个城市买艺术品的人有多少,买什么价位的艺术品的人有多少,都得搞清楚。中国有多少收藏家是不抛售他的藏品的?数一下,其实很多是投机或者是投资的心态。真正拿在手里不抛作品,或者是真的爱艺术的话,很简单一个道理:你买一个人作品,你去过他几次工作室?有的藏家和艺术家成为朋友,他很了解艺术家的创作和脉络,这样的藏家,我不知道在深圳有多少。你会为了销售艺术品,为了你的艺术家们去社交吗?那些好的画廊和他们的老板是怎么成功的?我觉得没有那么多的偶然。
年前我跟徐坦从大鹏回市区的路上也说起这个事,他说那些成功艺术家为什么不来深圳?我说来这里好像没有意义啊,深圳解决不了他们专业上上台阶的诉求,也解决不了更大的经济上的支持和认同的问题,比如你在深圳很难卖掉一千万一张的画吧。那些年轻艺术家为什么也不来深圳?首先当然是成本高,在深圳,艺术家生存下来的成本高,又得不到专业上提升的可能性,那他们来这儿干嘛?那些过去在北京黑桥熬着的艺术家,分分钟还是有机会的。可能有一个展览,你就被记住了,或是被画廊看上了,你会得到各种机会。
在深圳,你会发现这个当中会有一些断裂,就是艺术家的生产或者是艺术家的创作之间的断裂,最可怕的是大家没有良性的创造氛围之后,反而会有一些浅显的消费,这对他们可能会释放出一种错觉。有少数年轻艺术家在短时间内被需求很多,但那是一种浅显的认同,我觉得不要被过度消费了,还是应该沉淀一下,做一点留得住的东西。生存当然很重要,但是你要想你未来的路还是很长的,所以要平衡好这种关系。
舢板
钟刚:最近这几年,你创立了上启,去做一个艺术机构,为什么要在深圳做这样一个机构?
杨勇:聊到上启的初衷,我打一个比方。最开始我是一个人在海里游泳,游得还挺好的,还挺愉快的,游着游着,想去一个游泳很难去到的地方,这时候刚好遇到几块木板,我们就把它拼成了一个舢板,拼起来以后,我们肯定不想它散掉,得把它变牢固。在这个过程中,可能还会遇到更好的木板,我们就把这些木板拼成一艘小船。你为这个小船花了心思,为它使了劲,你当然希望它可以走得更远。走得更远的期待,是大于变更大的期待的。这个比喻很客观地描述了我做上启的原因和状态。
钟刚:你会关注公司管理当中普遍性的经验吗,还是更关注去发明一套方法注入到机构实践当中,就像陈侗一样。陈侗一直在用一套非常个人化的方法来塑造机构的气质,甚至通过不断的描述来叠加他的修辞,在做上启这个机构时,这些是你看重的东西吗?
杨勇:我可以很明确地说,我个人的某种意志在机构工作当中会占一部分,但是我一定要获得某种机构的管理和工作的普遍性的方法,我们有员工守则,这个员工守则有别于艺术行业,也有别于广告公司,我们会借鉴某些东西,我们也有某种工作的约束,这个是并行的,但我们尊重且充分表达和发挥同事们的个人创造。
陈侗是我很好的朋友,他对我的艺术成长有很重要的帮助,我的第一个个展就是在广州博尔赫斯书店做的。如果要讨论陈侗的博尔赫斯书店或者是他的那种路子,要从他一开始要干这件事和我1990年代认识他的时候谈起,那时候博尔赫斯书店还在老广州美院,现在已经搬了几个地方了,一路拐来拐去,搬来搬去,我们都看见他这么多年经历过很多事情。所以你的总结是对的,就是他有他很个人的一套方法来适用于他的机构,但是我们并没有去参考陈侗的机构运营方式,如果参考他的方式,估计早就歇菜了,这一套方法几乎不可能在深圳存活。陈侗的工作和博尔赫斯书店有乌托邦价值,这种价值,这种火焰,还能一直点着,一直没有熄灭,他再困难的时候,也没有熄灭,这是一件很棒的事情。但是我们不一样,我们在这么一个现实的环境下,我们大多数工作都有政府或者大企业作为委托方,我们在最大可能保持艺术的专业性输出之外,还要获得委托方的认同,要有承诺的实现,要比承诺实现得更好。我们更愿意连接不同的层面,不是只和艺术家打交道,也不是只服务于委托方,而是希望连接各种不同背景的人群,共同通过艺术去成就一些事情,为这个城市做点什么。这些或许是上启作为一个艺术机构比较特殊的方面吧。
“难搞”
钟刚:做上启这样的一个机构,和你作为艺术家所获得的成就感,有什么不一样的地方?
杨勇:做艺术家的成就感像是一个点状,但艺术家的成就感其实更爽,是很直接的一种个人的爽,还有各种人哄着你。但是做机构,这种成就感是如履薄冰,非常不容易,但这是更宽泛的,像是一个面上的成就感,是一群人实现一件事的成就感,跟你个人做了一个个展,推动了一个个人阶段的想法,呈现出来被人认同,然后进入了某个收藏,或者进入某一段的历史,是非常不一样的。我的同事们,这么一群年轻人,他们把他们的时间和信任交给我,或者是交给了这个机构,我得让他们觉得这是值得的。做事情无愧于自己的出发点就好,至于做到一个什么样子,不用你自己判断,别人自有评说。
做上启,对我自己的创作有蛮多触动的,我和艺术家们讨论,共同工作,年轻艺术家或者成熟艺术家,他们每个人都有很不一样的特点,这种特点很可贵。有时候我一个人关在家里听唱片,看书,看各种画册的时候,我就会想这个人某种地方的闪光在哪儿,他的纠结点在哪儿,这些分析对我的创作和工作都是一个侧面的影响,这对我来说是特别可贵的收获。
钟刚:你之前跟我说过,你说喜欢你的人和不喜欢你的人各占一半,为什么会出现这么两极分化的评价?
杨勇:这句话最早是来自于1990年代陈侗和杨小彦编辑的一本书《与实验艺术家的谈话》,杨小彦在文中说,我的艺术家朋友徐坦说,如果所有人都喜欢你,你这个人肯定有问题。我就记住了这句话。为什么会跟你说到这个?很简单,我不是那种特别愿意去讨人喜欢的性格,我的这种棱角随着岁数的改变,好像也没有磨灭太多。
喜欢的人和不喜欢的人各占一半,我觉得挺正常的。我在年轻的时候都没做到让所有人喜欢,到了这个时候,也没有什么必要去改变这个东西。35岁以后,我的性格变化是很大,在此之前,艺术家的那种锋芒和“难搞”特别强烈,但是往后岁数大了一点,就开始比较多地站在别人的角度想问题。
劲儿
钟刚:深圳是一个追求成功的城市,你怎么看待成功?你对你的现状满意吗?
杨勇:现状很满意,我和家人关系很好,我保持着运动,我保持接受新生事物和思想的习惯,我有很多很棒的黑胶唱片,我有思考的空间,有工作的空间,我们的团队还在健康地往下走。我们发起的一些工作,被更多人所接受和支持,我们也通过我们的工作影响了更多的人,影响了更多的机构和团队。我觉得这就是一种成功。所谓“深圳式的成功”,在1980年代和1990年代经常会谈起来,深圳梦想就是要实现自我,那时候去火车站,去机场,你会看到每个背着行李来的人,眼神很不一样,特别棒,特别牛,我以前去火车站拍照,在那一待就是半天,那些在火车站的人很疲惫,但是他们有疲惫以外的东西,就是我来了,我要干点儿什么。当然有很多人没干成又走了,也有人真的干成了,也有人在中间为了钱而折腰了,有的人为了一些信念坚持下来,这很有趣,今天这个时代很难有了,我很幸运自己是其中的一分子。
1995年的冬天,我带着400块钱和蒙德里安、米兰昆德拉的两本书以及瓦格纳和马勒的两盒磁带来到的这个地方,这里构成了我一切的一切,然后我得到了很多东西,包括我自己创作上的成长和生长。未来会怎么样,我不知道,就是往下走,往下看呗。至少现在来看,我是蛮清晰的状态,就像前段时间,我在回答你做的“珠三角艺术工作者年度计划”的问答时写的那一段话,我希望在这个嘈杂和模糊又混乱的时代里面保持个人的定力。
钟刚:这些年来,你一直在坚持做的一件事情,会是什么?
杨勇:不断地反省,我不知道这句话是不是有点儿冠冕堂皇,但是是真的。我就是不断地在反省,我的创作方式,我的作品,我的工作,我如何面对社会,我总是在不断的反省中,这可能是我的性格所带来的影响。反省蛮重要的,我得明白什么是该继续坚持的,什么是需要调整的。
钟刚:我看过你的画册,有一本画册的名字就是叫《杨勇》,你希望杨勇是一个怎样的符号,关于他的叙事如何展开?
杨勇:艺术家应该是个人主义的,这是一个强烈的方向。画册用“杨勇”这个名字,肯定当时有一个原因是想不到别的更好的名字。从事艺术20多年,从我1999年在赫尔辛基参加“移动的城市”,在北京参加“后感性——异性与妄想”以及后面参加光州双年展、威尼斯双年展主题展在内的多个群展,和我在国内外各地举办的个展,还有我在这十几年间策划的不同规模的艺术展览,发起不同协会、空间、活动等等,我发现艺术家还是得保持某种亢奋和某种劲头,“劲儿”是很重要的一个东西。我希望未来能有持续的活力和兴奋感,还有力量感,应该保持一种看不见的“劲儿”在推动我做事情。
填充物
钟刚:我留意到侯瀚如、杨天娜、田霏宇在谈论你的作品时,都会提到深圳的特殊性,前面我们也谈到很多关于这个城市的话题,那么你怎样用你的行动去回应这个城市的急剧变化?
杨勇:这种变化对我们这个时代特别有价值,而且我觉得1970年代出生的这一代艺术家很幸运,他们经历的事情跨度太大了,也经历了受西方文化影响的阶段,但大家在吸收的时候,有的人吃进去,不能变成自己的东西,他拉出来了还是别人的东西。有的人可能吃进去,能变成自己的一个产物。就像前段时间跟人聊天,我说我听一百张唱片,我看一百本书,我的目的不是为了去崇拜一百个大师,我是要让他们成为我自己铠甲上的一片鳞片。
以前我们讲“珠三角”,现在经常说“粤港澳大湾区”,这两个词背后就是一种很强烈的变化。这个时代的变化对于艺术生产者来讲是非常可贵的,我们能获得很有意思的一些资源和条件。过去这些年的深圳,你能看到了它在90年代的迷惘和疯狂,也能看到2000年再往后的平稳和安逸,再往后,你又能看到它在经济上的发展,后面还有一段时期处在被遗忘的迷茫期,那是这个城市从制造城市转型为科技城市的关口,但很快这个城市的鸡血又重新打回来了,大家重新看待我们的生活和我们在这个城市的创造。这个城市的很多年轻人成长起来,有很多不同行业的人也介入到艺术的生产当中,有越来越多的人一起谈论城市文化的未来。
我之前的创作当然是得益于深圳的一种很魔幻的东西,一种全球化影响之下的城市高速变革,罗湖的夜晚的那种疯狂,火车站的绿色的光,隧道里的那种不可捉摸的东西,其实代表了我身边的朋友的心境和他们的生活状态。我们如何在这种境况里面去表达我们自己的声音和建构我们的某种逻辑,以及构筑我们自身,如同建设我们的城市一样去构建我们的文化的高地和构建我们艺术的一种语境,是我一直都在琢磨的问题。
当然个体在这里面有个体的价值,但是个体的价值同时也会跟整个的生态有共同的关系,生态是由不同的个体组成的,可能我今天不会太关注和拍摄这个城市的状态,但我会换到另一个语境下去讲这些,我们在城市的整体构建里面,在这种钢筋水泥的森林里面,试图去填充一些东西,这种填充物,可能是一种看不见的东西,这就需要去联动不同领域的人,在不同的环境下一起构建更为宏大的作品,这当然是另一种的创作。 当然,文化艺术在这个大的系统里面,是不大的一块,但这一块不可或缺,我们必将在某一天会高度珍惜我们在这个过程和这条路径当中的点点滴滴。至少我今天意识到一个工作非常关键,那就是我们要善于梳理和整理,我们真的要检讨和反省我们很多的工作,这种冲击和困难,会成为我们以后很重要的经验。对你,对我,都是这样,一定是这样的。
欲望
钟刚:深圳是一个追逐成功的地方,有很多的梦想,也有很疯狂的物资消费,这个地方的欲望表现和物质化非常强烈和魔幻。对你而言,你的欲望是什么,你如何与欲望共处?
杨勇:中国的改革开放或许是某种欲望解禁的行为,那么个体的欲望一旦被打开,其中细微的欲望,宏观的欲望,就会推动这种时代的高速发展。过去中国几十年的高速发展,就是因为欲望所推动的。欲望里面包括成功,包括自我的构建,包含种种东西。从做一个艺术家开始,很早的时候我用傻瓜相机拍我们朋友们的那种很个人的欲望,再到我开始去做上启,做一个双年展,去改造一个村子,或者是把一个村子跟艺术和研究揉到一起的时候,这都是在面对一种欲望的状况,这是我们的个体欲望,也是我们的一种时代的欲望,还有我们如何将文化艺术变成一个时代发展的助燃剂的欲望。
欲望能成为一种活力,一种源动力。如果我们失去了欲望,失去了想表达的欲望,失去了想拥有力量的欲望,失去了想做成一件事的欲望,那反而是非常可怕的。你想我们在疫情期间,大家的欲望好像变得不那么重要了,或者欲望被压抑起来了,被一种硬性的物理的条件,被口罩阻隔,被隔离了,你的行动欲望就会转化为精神上的欲望,或者是你又被逼到一个茫然不知所措的状况,你没有办法去对社会发声,没有办法在物理上去联动。我相信城市的欲望会改变我们个人的欲望,个人的欲望也会造就城市的欲望。
之间
钟刚:前面谈了很多机构的工作,包括你做事的信念和方法,作为艺术家的杨勇呢,是一种怎样的状态?你在面对怎样的问题?
杨勇:我这几年个人创作的时间变少了,我将更多的精力投入到上启这个机构和不同的公共工作当中,但是作为艺术家的创造、成长和完善,以及反思,仍然在继续。我也在做新的作品,也有新的展览计划和新的出版计划,我也在保持对新的问题和我们当下社会状况的思考。艺术不是一个靠灵感来推动的事情,做艺术,靠的是你的观察和积累,不是说突然灵光一现去干就行的。当然也有这样的艺术家,但我不是这样的艺术家。
我也很清晰地知道,我作为某种个体被关注的频率在改变,你付出的精力和时间,必然是一个成正比的关系。我对我接下来新作品的出现特别期待,因为已经开始了,我的某种东西被抑制还蛮久了,我的上一个个展是2016年,本来2019年要做一个个展,后来被推迟,因为那时候太忙了。还有一个出版物,我也往后推了。我对后面的工作会越来越有要求,而且我希望我个人的工作量不要那么大,我可能会少做一些东西,标准会更高一些。我也在花更多的时间梳理自己过去几个阶段的工作,我在持续地整理这些东西,而且就像我刚才讲的,我有条件做一个被更多人熟知的影像艺术家,但是我不喜欢这个机会,我想成为一个更自由、更有媒介自主权的创作者。我过去使用的媒介,后来被我打得越来越开,所以我可能不是一个好归纳的人。
我们俩好像没有特别认真地聊过这些东西,再加上我后来干的事变得跟大家又很不一样,为什么我和体制之间有那么多的工作展开,我跟黄永砅也聊过这个话题,我的这种状态黄永砅把它归纳为一种特别的“之间”的状态,做机构对我的个人创造来讲是非常加分的一件事情,这个工作使我站到一个更客观的角度看回我的个体,这会让我的思考和工作更清晰和更有序。加上一开始我就不是一个审美型的艺术家,我不是一个要生产这样的作品的人,我希望把自己置身于一个不好界定的、但是你也很难忽略掉的位置。这种模糊性和这种“之间”的状态,对我来讲很重要。
钟刚:在你做的这么多事情当中,你可以接受的妥协是什么?
杨勇:我经常讲一个词叫“变通”,“变通”就是一种处事的方式,也是在中国社会解决问题的一种路径。我理解的变通,其实就是你说的妥协,妥协是一种类似敌进我退、敌退我进的策略。在这个逻辑下,妥协就是另一种进攻。妥协其实不是一个坏事,它是一种成熟的表现,如果你的底线是清晰的,你的妥协,就不会有问题。
Art and Desire are the Combustion Adjuvant of This Time
Interviewer: Zhong Gang
Originally included in Winter Conversation: Intervening in the Site and Revisiting the Past
Shenzhen, a city driven by desire and dreams, is facing high expectations from the outside world and also trying to liberate itself. This is even the case during the COVID-19 pandemic. Shenzhen not only has burning passion but also keeps realizing and augmenting assertions and actions in the private realm.
In such an urban context, we believe that a heterogeneous sample is provided by the oral accounts by and the interviews with artists revolving around this special city. It is not just about art, but also diverts narrative into the depths of individuals and the times. That is also why we are so keen on talking about Shenzhen and what makes us discuss Shenzhen-based artists in the context of this special city.
Yang Yong is such a Shenzhen-based artist. He first visited Shenzhen in the 1990s and started his career as an artist in the city, a career that alternates between pursuits and achievements, encounters and collisions, compromises and persistence. When we first met, he told me frankly that he is liked and disliked fifty-fifty. But he didn’t intend to give in to either side completely. He refused to simplify himself as a unidimensional person. Not only does he drift between the two, but he’s built his own ways of narration and working logic in the “in-between” state. Being “in between” has become the most important stance and value to him.
Acceleration
Zhong Gang: You have been in Shenzhen for over two decades. Your early photographic works were also made in Shenzhen, to reflect the restlessness and desires of the city and the spirit of that age. You have been working and living in Shenzhen ever since. I’ve learned that you also rent a studio in Beijing, but it seems you seldom use it. The past two decades have witnessed great change in Shenzhen, and in you too. The first topic I’d like to discuss with you is what influence the “acceleration” of this city has on you.
Yang Yong: Like I said before, this city of Shenzhen is like a quickly molded plastic stool often seen in food stalls. In such a city, I started to explore my own language of art and have found an approach to creation from my life. I even invented a way of photography, which features a vague state between improvisation and direction. Later I found that being “in between” has been influencing me in many things, as I would work on the margins of several things.
Young people came to this rapidly developing city from all around China. Their inadaptability, anxiety, confusion and pleasure all contributed to the restlessness of this city. Shenzhen was a really interesting place in the 1990s. I think the people then were far more interesting than nowadays. The world is so boring today. People are all drawn to a limited number of things. It was actually a bit more diverse in the past. Such diversity, or personality diversity to be exact, is very valuable to Shenzhen. I still keep some newspapers at home which interviewed me at the time. There was an interview from ART News, an American magazine, in 1999, and Jonathan Napack, as the Asia advisor to Art Basel at the time, shared his observation in a later article: “This place will be the future of China”. It was a really interesting city. Shenzhen was very avant-garde at the time, as it was positioned as a pioneering city among Chinese cities. It’s just that we don’t talk much about it today. Maybe the city has gone through its adolescence.
Actually, I have been growing with this city. The changes of the city’s hardware and in people’s mentality gives my work a special urban aura, which is the most intuitional expression of my photography. But, instead of becoming a so-called conceptual photographer step by step, to dominate some style with one or two series every year, I am more willing to be an artist restrained by no medium, who would go for installation, painting, video making and so on. Like I have curated exhibitions and designed and built a bare concrete structure. I want my expression to be diverse. When I talk about something, it doesn’t matter what dialect I use, Cantonese, Mandarin, Sichuanese or English. What matters is what I am saying. In a word, I don’t care about what medium to employ but what I want to express.
Zhong Gang: During the UABB sub-venue exhibition in Qiaotou Community of Bao’an District, I paid a visit to the community and found a wild power from “outside the checkpoints”, which must be filled with adventurous passion and imagination about the future. I think this kind of restless power is what drove Shenzhen to the way it is today. But, while Shenzhen is upgrading itself today, it’s also losing something, such as the lifeful part of it in urban life.
Yang Yong: Compared to the 1990s, Shenzhen has lost much warmth, many lanes and alleys and many vendors today, as it’s more and more inclined to accommodate the requests of urban elitists. Sad though the change feels, Shenzhen has to face its future, either a future approved of by administrators, or one that turns out the way citizens and even the country hope for. But, to me, in whatever way Shenzhen develops, it’s very important that we sort out and preserve the value clues of culture and art, and, in this respect, architects and designers are doing a better job than artists in Shenzhen. With the continuous help of many cooperative associations, they record and study their practices very consciously. The 1990s saw the thriving of graphic design propelled by the printing industry, and the period after 2000 saw the rise of architects driven by rapid urban development, so will artists be the next community to bloom in the near future? It seems that the community is too small for the need of such a megacity, a city that’s also fairly weak in the study of art, justified by the lack of a good art magazine. Still short of many things though, Shenzhen needs a lot of insightful minds in the future to help make some substantial differences. There may be some good exhibitions in Shenzhen, as well as some constructive things promoted by some entrepreneurs with aspirations, but still the place needs something critical with stances and texture; maybe they are not pleasing to the eye or enjoyable, but they are irreplaceable in value. We who stay here must be well aware of what the real energy of the city is and what kind of artistic value we are producing.
Urban Logic
Zhong Gang: Last year we put out a book called Shenzhen’s Dizziness. This year, a little surprisingly, the outbreak of the pandemic has brought quite a few galleries to a close. Shenzhen may have many spaces for art practitioners to materialize their ideas, but they must also beware of over-imagination that may put them in danger. You have been in Shenzhen for over twenty years and experienced and witnessed many things in the city, so what do you make of the current change of this place?
Yang Yong: Shenzhen is quite a complicated place. Personally, I never find any big change of it during any particular time. Three or a few years ago, for example, we saw an optimistic, thriving scene in Shenzhen as galleries and fairs were mushrooming and people coming from different places, but what’s very strange to me is that, while economy is changing the look of the city and the life in it, culture is changing it at a really slow rate. I still remember a question asked by Leung Man-tao in 1999. I was introduced to him as an interviewee by Yan Lei in Hong Kong after Leung had interviewed the then director of Shenzhen’s Culture Bureau. So, when he made the call to me, we didn’t know each other, and he asked me what Shenzhen was like culturally at the time. I answered him very directly that the culture of Shenzhen was being arty. Being arty, certainly, is also a good thing as it shows a desire for progress.
The impression Shenzhen gave me many years ago is that it’s different from Beijing, Shanghai and Guangzhou. Guangzhou, for example, has Lingnan culture as its solid and strong foundation, which may also be a hindrance of course. But Shenzhen has none of these. I used to defend the city from those who criticized it as a cultural desert. I argued that deserts are also a kind of ecosystem and that even the grass in a desert may be stronger than a tree in a rain forest. Later, Shenzhen grew into a new stage where there are much more exhibitions and artists here, and enterprises and the government also care more and more about these things and have begun investing. The logic of the government, of course, is to address the citizen’s needs in their cultural life. The life of so many people in one city must include cultural activities and sports. Weekends should not only be spent in shopping malls. A city should not encourage all its young people to be interested only in famous brands. So the government has done a lot of things about it, like building art museums, founding different biennales and setting up a publicity and culture fund and a culture and sports fund. We can already see the outcome of these efforts through some hardware or the outline of the city. Another track in Shenzhen is the spontaneous art activities initiated by the folk. There are few critics or professional curators in Shenzhen, which is a defect of this ecosystem, let alone art foundations. This folk thread has also been explored by you guys in Shenzhen’s Dizziness.
Landscape
Zhong Gang: Another peculiar phenomenon is that Shenzhen has over a dozen biennales. How do you look at this very special landscape of urban culture that features biennales? It’s an odd phenomenon, but there must be some particular reason and practical needs behind it.
Yang Yong: This sounds like an “outbreak” of cultural needs in a sense. Certainly, the biennales came into being at different times. They have different sponsors and are supported by different government units and enterprises. Some are even promoted by smaller forces. And they have different things to express in every exhibition. Biennale doesn’t mean anything as a noun but an event that is held every two years. Why two years? Because it’s the time needed, at least, for good preparation. Given that some biennales do help change some cities in image, Shenzhen also wants to improve its image with exhibitions and events. It’s no doubt a solution. There’s nothing wrong with biennales; what’s important is how many exhibitions and artworks will survive in the end. There are many terrible biennales overseas too. What we can see is all condensations of attention paid by countless minds. So, as I see it, it’s a good thing that we have so many biennales, not a bad thing, because they embody the vitality of the city in material. But the harvests are different. Some biennales promote the communication about ink and wash, some the communication in the architecture industry, and some are devoted to something in the name of contemporary art.
In an article, Fei Dawei fabricates a very scary list of names of many biennales. A very interesting irony. We don’t have to think too much in the face of this question. When we face something or part of something, we just get it done.
Zhong Gang: In this respect, I think that, apart from doing biennales and exhibitions of established artists, local art museums should also make judgments more often, inspire a group of people or a generation and grow with them, and even discover the value of site-specific art through collection.
Yang Yong: There should not be only one track for an institution, a city or an era. Last winter I went to a U2 concert in Tokyo. I was very excited. That was a teenage complex of mine. On the evening of the show, when I was getting there, I was really surprised that there were no big posters along the way. Isn’t it an event? Then my friend by my side said something that jolted my heart. He said, in Tokyo, people are into different things, and any choice will be respected, even things liked by minorities – there are room for them too. In Shenzhen, however, many things have just begun. It’s very important that we survive, no matter how, and form a communication mechanism. For a line of work, everyone needs a communication and interaction mechanism on the common level, which can then give life and heat to, for example, a minority sphere, so that certain cohesion is formed. This is the way a good outcome is produced.
Failure
Zhong Gang: You just mentioned the efforts made by some entrepreneurs with aspirations in Shenzhen. It’s known to even newcomers like me that Shenzhen is a place for adventurers. For many, mostly women, it appears for the time being, they would open a gallery after their family accumulates a certain amount of capital. I believe the first thing they want is not to run anything, but to make their love of art into a cause. Sadly, many of them have failed and paid their price.
Yang Yong: To open a gallery, you must first learn about the market. Like how many buyers of art are there in the city? And how many buyers are there that can afford artworks at a certain price? You need to find answers for these questions. How many collectors are there in China that won’t sell their collections? If you do a count, you will find that many collect as a venture or investment. An easy question for those who claim that they truly love art or won’t sell their collections: if you buy somebody’s work, how many times have you been to his studio? Some collectors make friends with artists. They are acquainted with the artists’ practices and growth. I don’t know how many such collectors there are in Shenzhen. Will you socialize to sell art or for your artists? How did those good galleries and their owners achieve success? I don’t think there are so many fortuities.
Before the New Year, I also talked about this with Xu Tan on our way from Dapeng back to downtown, and he asked why successful artists don’t come to Shenzhen. I said there seems to be no point in coming, as Shenzhen can neither satisfy their need for advance in expertise nor give them more support and recognition economically; it’s difficult in Shenzhen, for instance, to sell a painting for ten million RMB. How come young artists don’t come either? Well, first of all, the high cost of living in Shenzhen, and then the impossibility of improving their expertise, so what’s the point of coming? For artists who persisted in Heiqiao Village, Beijing in the past, there might be opportunities from time to time. Maybe through just an exhibition, you were remembered, or got noticed by galleries, hence all sorts of opportunities.
In Shenzhen, you will find some breaks among artists in production or creation, and the worst thing is that, without a favorable environment for creation, artists might be deluded by some shallow consumptions that come about. A small group of young artists are needed frequently in a short period of time, which, however, is a kind of superficial recognition. Instead of being over-consumed, they should spend time on self-cultivation and make something that will last. Survival is naturally very important, but, given that there’s a very long way ahead, they must learn how to balance in this relationship.
Sampan
Zhong Gang: You founded Shangqi Art, an art institution, in recent years. Why would you start such an institution in Shenzhen?
Yang Yong: About that, I’d like to draw an analogy. I was swimming alone in the sea at first, I was quite good at it, so I had fun. As time passed, I wanted to get to a place I couldn’t swim to, and, at this time, a few planks showed up, so we pieced them into a sampan and, to prevent it from falling apart, we needed to fasten it. In this process, we might run into some better planks, so we pieced all the planks into a small boat. After all the time and effort devoted, of course we wanted the boat to travel further. To go further was actually more wanted than to grow bigger. This comparison describes very objectively why and how I founded Shangqi Art.
Zhong Gang: Do you learn from universal experience in corporate management, or do you focus more on inventing a new methodology for the practice of your institution, like Chen Tong? Chen Tong has been shaping the character of his institute with a highly personal methodology, and even enriching his rhetoric by continual description. Are these important to you in running your institution?
Yang Yong: Frankly, the institution’s work is partly dominated by my personal will, but I find it necessary to have universal methods of managing and working in an institution. We have a staff code of conduct, which is different from that of the art industry and that of the advertising industry. We learn from something and our work is also constrained in some way. The two are parallel. But we respect all colleagues and encourage them to fully express their creativity.
Chen Tong is a very good friend of mine, who gave me a really important hand in my art career. My first solo show was held in Libreria Borges in Guangzhou. To discuss his way of running Libreria Borges, we must go back to when he embarked on the cause and when we got to know each other in the 1990s. At that time, Libreria Borges was situated on the old site of Guangzhou Academy of Fine Arts. Now it has been relocated a few times, from one place to another, which indicates that he’s been through lots of things over all the years. So you were right about him running his institute with a very personal methodology, but we didn’t learn from it; it’s a way that would have put an end to us, because it can hardly survive in Shenzhen. Chen’s work and his Libreria Borges show Utopian value, which is like a flame that hasn’t ceased burning. It’s really a great thing that it never dies down, even during his toughest time. But it’s a different case for us. In such a practical environment, most of our work is commissioned by the government or big companies, so not only must we do our best to maintain our professional output in art, but we also need to be acknowledged by our client; we must fulfill our promise and even deliver a better result than our promise. We are more willing to connect to different levels, instead of merely dealing with artists or only serving clients. We want to connect to different walks of life and to achieve something or do something for the city together by means of art. These may be what’s unique about Shangqi Art as an art institution.
“Tough”
Zhong Gang: Is there any difference in your sense of achievement between running such an institution and being an artist?
Yang Yong: Being an artist may give you a punctate sense of achievement, which, nevertheless, means a bigger thrill, a very direct personal thrill, let alone all sorts of flatteries around you. But running an institution is like walking on thin ice, it’s really difficult, but the sense of achievement out of this is broader like a plane, it’s about accomplishing something with a group of people. It’s very different from, for example, you throwing a solo exhibition of your own, pushing forward an idea of yours at a personal stage and winning recognition for your exhibits which end up being collected or part of history. My colleagues, such a group of young people, trust me or this institution with their time, so I must prove to them that this is worth it. We should try to live up to what we expected in the first place, and what we’ll achieve in the end is not up to us to judge. History has the answer.
Running Shangqi Art has inspired me a lot in art making. I would discuss with artists and work with them, young or established, who each have their uniqueness, which is very valuable. Sometimes when I stay at home alone with my CDs, books and various photobooks, I would analyze the brilliance of someone in a work and what he struggles about, and such analyses might influence my creation and work indirectly, which is a really valuable harvest to me.
Zhong Gang: I remember you told me that you are liked and disliked fifty-fifty. Why such a bipolar judgment about yourself?
Yang Yong: The line actually dates back to Dialogues with Experimental Artists, a book coedited by Chen Tong and Yang Xiaoyan in the 1990s. Yang writes in an article, “My artist friend Xu Tan Said, there must be something wrong with you if you are liked by everyone.” And I memorized the sentence. The reason I would tell you this is simply that I’m not the kind of person who are always ready to please. This angle of mine seems not to have been rubbed off too much with the growth of my age.
I find it very normal to be liked and disliked fifty-fifty. I failed to be liked by everyone when I was young, and now, at this age, I don’t see any necessity to change it. After 35, I became quite a different person in character. Before that, I was impressive as a brilliant and “tough” artist, but as I got older, I learned to look at things more often from the perspective of others.
Drive
Zhong Gang: Shenzhen is a city for chasers of success. What’s your opinion on success? Are you satisfied with the way you are?
Yang Yong: I’m very satisfied with the way I am. I have a happy family, I persist in exercising, I stay open to new stuff and thoughts, I have lots of great vinyl records, I have room for thinking and space for work, and my team is moving forward in a healthy way. Some projects we initiated are being accepted and supported by more and more people, and we have inspired more people, more institutions and teams through our work. I think this is a kind of success. The so-called “Shenzhen type of success” was discussed a lot in the 1980s and 1990s. The Shenzhen Dream is about self-realization. Back in those days, you could see something different in the eyes of those who arrived at the railway station or airport with a backpack. Eyes filled with fire and confidence. Every time I went to photograph at the railway station, it would steal almost half a day from me. The newcomers there might look tired, but, other than that, they seemed to be saying, “I am here, and about to do something.” Many failed and left, of course, but some really made it; some gave in to money in the process while some stayed loyal to their faith. That’s very interesting, but rare today, so it was lucky of me to be part of it.
In the winter of 1995, I came with 400 RMB, two books by Mondrian and Milan Kundera and two tapes of Wagner and Mahler to this place, which made me into everything I am, and I’ve obtained many things, including my growth as an artist. I don’t know what will happen in the future. I’ll just keep going and see it for myself. At least for now, I am rather clear about myself, as in what I wrote not long ago to answer your questions in your Annual Plans of Art Workers in the Pearl River Delta Region: I want to maintain my composure in this noisy, hazy and chaotic age.
Zhong Gang: What's the one thing you have been working on all these years?
Yang Yong: Introspection. I don’t know if it sounds ostentatious or not, but it’s true. I’ve been reflecting upon myself continually, as to my approach to art, my creation, my work and how to face the world. I’m always doing this, which may result from the influence of my personality. Introspection is rather important in that it helps me figure out what to stick to and what needs adjusting.
Zhong Gang: I’ve read your photobooks, and one of them is named after you. What kind of symbol do you expect Yang Yong to be? And how is the narrative about him developed?
Yang Yong: Artists should be individualists, which is a fierce path. The reason to entitle the photobook Yang Yong must be that I couldn’t think of a better name at the time. Over the past two decades devoted to art, I’ve participated in “Cities on the Move” in Helsinki, “Post-Sense, Sensibility, Alien Bodies & Delusion” in Beijing and a good number of other group exhibitions including Gwangju Biennale and Venice Biennale special exhibition, held solo exhibitions in different cities in China and abroad, curated art exhibitions of different scales and initiated different associations, spaces, activities and so on, and I find that artists still need to maintain some sort of excitement and drive. “Drive” is a very important thing. I hope that I can stay energetic and excited and keep a sense of power in the future and that an intangible drive will still be there to push me forward.
Fillings
Zhong Gang: I notice that Hou Hanru, Yang Tianna and Tian Feiyu would mention the uniqueness of Shenzhen when talking about your art. We have also covered many topics about this city before, so how do you cope with the drastic change of the city with your actions?
Yang Yong: Such change is of special value to this age, and I think that it was really lucky of artists born in the 1970s to live through such a wide span of time, where they were also influenced by Western culture, but some could not digest it and ended up producing imitative things while some others managed to make it part of themselves. Like I said to someone the other day, I listen to 100 records or read 100 books not to worship 100 masters, but to make each of them a scale of my armor.
From “the Pearl River Delta region” that frequented our discussions in the past to the current “Guangdong-Hong Kong-Macao Greater Bay Area”, the two terms reflect a profound change. Any change in this time is very valuable to producers of art, as it may bring some very interesting resources and conditions. Take Shenzhen as an example. Over the decades, you can see its confusion and craze in the 1990s, its stability and ease after 2000, plus its economic development, and then a perplexing period of being forgotten, which was a critical time for the transformation of Shenzhen from a manufacturing city to a technology-oriented city. Soon, the city was reinvigorated and everyone now takes a new look at our life and our creations in this city. Many young people of the city are growing up, many people from different walks of life are also participating in artistic production and more and more are talking about the future of culture in the city.
My previous works certainly have to do with something very magical about Shenzhen, namely, a high-speed urban change under the influence of globalization. The craze in the evenings of Luohu, the green light at the railway station and those impalpable things in the tunnels actually reflect both the mental and living state of the friends around me. How, under such circumstance, do we express our own voice and construct our own logic and even ourselves? How do we construct our cultural high ground and a context for our art like building our city? These are the questions I have been working on.
Individuals have their value in this of course, but that value is also related to the entire ecosystem which is made up of different individuals. Perhaps I won’t pay too much attention to the state of the city as a photographer today, but I will keep mentioning this even in a new context. We are trying to fill something into the entire structure of the city, or a concrete jungle, and the fillings may be something invisible, so we need to connect people from different fields to construct a grander work in different environments, which is certainly another kind of creation. Of this enormous system, of course, culture and art take up only a small part, but it’s indispensable, and, some day in the future, we shall highly value everything we have done in this process and on this path. At least today I am aware that it’s very critical for us to be good at sorting and organizing, and that we must review and reflect upon most of our work. Such impact and difficulty will become very important experience of ours. I’m certain about that and it must be the case for you too.
Desire
Zhong Gang: Shenzhen is a place for chasers of success, which means a lot of dreams as well as crazy consumption of materials. The performance of desire and the material pursuits are terribly intense and magical here. So what’s your desire? And how do you cope with it?
Yang Yong: The reform and opening up of China may be a kind of liberation of desire. Once individual desire gets unleashed, this age will be propelled into high-speed development by petty and macroscopic desires. It’s desire that has been driving the rapid development of China over the past decades. Desire includes success, self-construction and all sorts of things. From every early in my career as an artist when I recorded my friends’ very personal desires with a point-and-shoot camera to my founding of Shangqi Art, doing an biennale, renewing a village or blending a village with art and research, these are all my coping with desire, our individual desire, the desire of our generation and even our desire to make culture and art a combustion adjuvant to the development of our times.
Desire can a kind of vitality, a source power. It’d be a terrible situation if we lose desire, the desire to express, the desire for power and even the desire to get something done. Like during the pandemic, everybody’s desire seems not that important, or our desire is suppressed, by a compulsive physical condition, such as a mask and quarantine measures, and then your desire for action may turn into spiritual desire, or you are put in the dark again and have no way of making your voice heard or physically connecting to others. I believe that the desire of a city will change our personal desire, and that individual desire will also make the desire of a city.
In Bewteen
Zhong Gang: We just talked a lot about your work in the institution, including your philosophy and methodology of doing things, but what’s the current state of Yang Yong as an artist? What questions are you dealing with?
Yang Yong: In recent years, instead of personal creation, I devote more time and effort to Shangqi Art and different public projects, but I never stop creating, growing, improving and introspecting as an artist. I’m making new pieces too, and I have plans for a new exhibition and publication, and I also keep an active mind to new questions and the social situation that faces us. Art is the product of not only inspiration, but also observation and accumulation. You can’t just get down to it when inspiration strikes. Certainly there are artists who can, but I’m sorry I’m not their kind.
I’m well aware that I’m losing popularity as an individual, but it clearly has to with the amount of effort and time I put in. I’m particularly looking forward to the exhibition of my new works. The preparation has begun. Something about me has been suppressed for quite some time. My last solo show was in 2016, and the next was supposed to be in 2019, but it got postponed as I was too busy at the time. And a publication was also postponed. I’ll become more and more demanding for the work to come, and, in the hope of keeping a healthy work load, I’ll make fewer pieces, but to a higher standard. I’m also spending more time going through my work in my previous stages; I’m organizing these things regularly. And, like I said, I’m capable of becoming a better-known photographic artist, but I don’t like the chance; I want to be a creator with more liberty, particularly in the choice of mediums. The mediums I used in the past are being included by a bigger and bigger kit of mine, so I may not be easy to categorize.
It seems that we haven’t talked much about these things before, and, what’s more, I’m now doing something so different from what you guys do. As to why I have so much cooperation with the government, I’ve also talked about this with Huang Yongping, and he summarized this state of mine as an “in-between” state. Running the institution is quite a plus for my personal creation, because it allows me to reflect upon my individuality from a more objective point of view, which brings more clarity and order to my thinking and work. And I’m not an aesthetic-oriented artist from the very start, who produces aesthetic-oriented art; I want to put myself in a hard-to-define but also hard-to-overlook position. Such ambiguity and this “in-between” state are very important to me.
Zhong Gang: During all the things we’ve done, what compromise can you accept?
Yang Yong: “Being flexible”, a phrase I mention from time to time, is a way of doing things and also an approach to solving problems in Chinese society. You asked about compromise, and this is my understanding, so compromise is a strategy of adapting to circumstances, like retreating when the enemy advances and advancing when they retreat. By this logic, compromise is another kind of attack. Compromise is not a bad thing as a matter of fact. It’s a show of maturity. If you have a clear bottom line, your compromise will never be a problem.