Over the past few weeks, I have been reading more about Chinese art. More specifically the Chinese diaspora and how their transexperience effects intent and the resulting “product” of an artwork.
Notions of transexperience often create a liminal space. A space in which there are two main characteristics but those characteristics are the antithesis (or opposite) of each other. Although they can exist at once, the effect of their simultaneous existence creates this liminal space: transexperience. This theory in relation to art is often used to demonstrate the experience of longing for your homeland whilst being submerged in another.
During the eighties and nineties, Chinese artists migrated to the west (USA, Australia, UK, Germany, France, etc). Artists Xu Bing and Wenda Gu stand out to me. Their presentation of language in their art is what has driven me to explore it in my own art.
This might seem contrived at first thought. Now, I’m not saying I’m interested in doing something like writing “diaspora” across my painting in a sans font. In fact, language in art is how we distinguish one artist from another: their mark-making. It’s almost impossible to be unable to distinguish Van Gough from Monet. They both have their own unique, striking and effective language, their artwork just happens to be “written” with a paintbrush rather than a pen. That’s what I’m interested in.
Where do we draw the line of mark-making and language? Is there really a difference? Image and the written word have always fascinated me . So, this is where I’m starting. And hopefully, I’ll be able to successfully integrate this idea into my exhibited artworks for this may.