素處的異曲

“Unadorned Space” and “Variation”: The Attitude of Ink Art

The Spiritual Vessel of the Unadorned Space
“Unadorned space” (su chu素處) at first glance suggests a simple, unadorned place; in the context of artistic practice, one might associate it with the exhibition site. For me, however, it transcends the recognition and limitations of physical space, pointing instead toward a deeper spiritual realm.
Since ancient times, the character su 素 (unadorned or plain) has frequently appeared in literary works. In the Book of Changes (I Ching), “Treading forward in unadorned shoes, one walks alone in accordance with one’s will” uses the image of simple footwear to evoke a character that upholds integrity and pursues one’s aspirations independently. The Laozi states, “Manifest plainness and embrace simplicity, reduce selfishness and diminish desires,” conveying the idea of preserving a pure and unadorned nature while curbing selfish impulses. In the Zhuangzi, we read, “Plainness is what delights; being plain, nothing in the world can contend with it for beauty,” suggesting that only by preserving the original, unembellished essence of things can one achieve the ultimate beauty in the world. All three reflect an aesthetic and philosophical outlook centered on “returning to simplicity.” It is evident that the attitude of su was already an ideal pursued by the ancients.

This reverence for the unadorned resonates deeply with the pursuit of “untrammeled naturalness” (pingdan tianzhen 平淡天真) in ink art. Pingdan (plain, unadorned) and tianzhen (natural, unaffected) each carry profound meanings. Pingdan does not denote dullness or insipidity, but rather a richness that is unadorned and unpretentious. This ideal also appears in various contexts within Chinese literature and philosophy, such as in the Zhuangzi: “When one is serenely boundless, all beauty follows,” and in the Doctrine of the Mean: “The way of the exemplary person is plain yet never tiresome.” Whether Daoist or Confucian, these traditions emphasize a reserved subtlety, a simplicity that does not contend or flaunt. Tianzhen refers to things in their natural, unembellished state, complementing pingdan to form a coherent whole. The concepts of su and pingdan tianzhen are fundamentally aligned. Ink art does not deliberately seek brilliance, nor does it over-embellish; it is precisely in its plainness and simplicity that profundity resides.

As for chu 處 (place, space), it signifies both a physical location and a situational condition. Taking su as its foundation, I regard the “unadorned space” as both the site where ink works are displayed and, more fundamentally, as a conceptual vessel where brush and ink converge with paper to form an imagined realm. In daily practice, plain paper or silk refers to material that has not been dyed or processed. Yet the seemingly blank surface is in fact a space for quiet contemplation, a field where consciousness can “empty out”—like the notion of “an empty room producing light 虛室生白,” for only emptiness can accommodate all things. Thus, plain paper or silk likewise embodies a spiritual world. When brush and ink descend, the moment ink seeps into the paper is not a disruption of the unadorned space; on the contrary, through the rhythm of brushwork, it transforms into an imagined space of another time and dimension. In this sense, the world created by brush and ink is itself another “unadorned space.”

Variations: Different Tunes, One Resonance
The pursuit of “difference” is a goal for many artists, who long to stand out and express unique ideas. This is a natural aspiration in artistic creation, yet deliberately negating the past or tradition in order to achieve “novelty” reflects a misunderstanding. Looking back at the long history of Chinese art, each dynastic transition brought varying degrees of upheaval or transformation, giving rise to new styles, ideas, and philosophical outlooks. However, it is difficult to find works that entirely repudiate the past; on the contrary, painters throughout dynasties reinterpreted, transformed, and refined the traditions of their predecessors, producing countless masterpieces. Even today, while we study models from different periods and styles, we can still trace the threads of tradition—this suggests that change is the result of shifting times, not a deliberate pursuit of novelty for its own sake.

Within the contemporary context, how to forge one’s own path based on the experiences of those who came before is a crucial question every artist must confront. For me, the concept of time-space in landscape painting has continuously guided my thinking and research on creative practice. In traditional Chinese philosophy, “time” and “space” were not conceived as distinct categories but were integrated under the notion of “Yu Zhou (the world view, not the cosmology).” As the Shizi states, “The four directions and above and below constitute yu; the past and the present constitute zhou.” In other words, the four directions—east, south, west, north—along with heaven and earth, represent space; the past and the present represent time. Thus, what we understand as “time-space” is essentially world view. Landscape, through this intertwined expression of time and space, leads us into a spiritual realm that transcends temporality.

In my practice and research, I have sought to express diverse experiences of time-space in landscape through different perspectives, life experiences, and traditional brushwork. For instance, the Meta- series uses “repetition” as a metaphor for contemporary digital phenomena; Crossing the Landscape 04 presents a continuous, transitional landscape composition through the reorganization of viewpoints; the Into series extends the imagery of landscape through depictions of partial scenes. These works all convey my different reflections on time-space in landscape within the two-dimensional plane. At the same time, I have deliberately used installation formats to challenge the viewing conventions of traditional works. For example, the One River, Two Banks Album series transforms the “private” nature of the traditional album format into a “public” spatial installation; Realm of Layers expands the concept of “moving scene by scene” into bodily movement and perception through viewpoints set at varying heights and distances. These installations not only respond to the surrounding environment but also create subtle interactions and connections between the viewer and the work.

Two-dimensional and three-dimensional forms, though distinct modes of expression, resonate with each other within the same conceptual framework. In keeping with the idea that “variations return to the same source,” regardless of the shifts in form or medium, my work explores how landscape can extend into broader perceptual dimensions through its relationship with time-space. I hope viewers can move between the roaming perspective of two-dimensional viewing and the physical field of three-dimensional installation, shifting both body and gaze to experience distinctly different visual sensations. The multidimensional expression of ink art within a contemporary context does not signify a departure from tradition; rather, it seeks another spiritual realm within the “unadorned space” I have created. This is not merely a response to space but a participation in a symphony that transcends time and space.