Essay – Beyond Logic: The Art of Hai Rihan

Beyond Logic: The Art of Hai Rihan

As the Chinese art critic Jia Fangzhou has pointed out, it is difficult to explain Hai Rihan’s paintings. The images presented by the artist are suffused with a primitive aspect, a certain wanton bizarreness and wildness. They defy lay viewers’ understanding, and make fellow artists shake their heads. Yet, in a sense, to explicate his paintings is also an uncomplicated matter, because there is no necessity to decipher the school of art to which he belongs, or to delineate the sources of his technique or his symbolism. Hai Rihan does not produce art for art’s sake. His art is who he is, drawn from a secret place deep within him. Just as poets, creative writers and musicians give voice to their emotive worlds through verse, prose and musical composition, Hai expresses himself by means of painting.

Hai Rihan uses paintings to tell us the stories of his life – his inner secrets, daydreams and mysterious thoughts. How do animals see humans? What is comfort? What is furthest away from you? Once you realise that he actually pursues such totally non-logical questions with earnestness, it becomes easy to approach his art.

Mongolian blood in all its unrestrained vigour, and charged with primeval, boundless emotions, runs in Hai Rihan’s veins. The Hulunbuir grasslands nurture his body and nourish his soul. “My grasslands are unlike those envisaged by others. I hope I can present the living grasslands with an aura of wildness.” Certainly, Hai has never given us a straightforward depiction of the “grasslands.” He just will not waste canvas space on simply showing a vast wilderness under a sky that stretches into infinity. His concern is with the living things in this landscape, i.e., the herdsmen, cattle, horses and sheep. Theirs is a spirit tinged with primal wildness, which the artist rapaciously pursues.

The fact is, the pure simplicity in Hai Rihan’s paintings is very evident. Initially, the only figures are he and his family members, including his mother, uncle, wife and daughter. Much of the time, the artist shows himself in the form of a bull, a metaphor for his own soul that appears in almost every scene. On rare occasions, he wears a hat, and sits on the back of a scrawny horse with striking eyes. Jia Fangzhou vividly comments on these figures thus: “They are the denizens of Hai Rihan’s inner world, passionate actors who come at the beck and call of the artist. He only relies on them to create the psychological ambience of the moment, to articulate his psychic reality at the pertinent point in time, which may be one of solitude, placidity or fervour. He never paints anything that has nothing to do with the psyche, for he sees artistic activities as a direct way of life, an experience of life itself, a rumination on everyday existence.” [“A Rover of the Psychic Realm”, in Visits to Studios (1998), pg 2]

From the mid and late 1990s onwards, more nude women come to be featured in Hai Rihan’s paintings as beautiful protagonists. Like elves or a fantasy, they run freely and unabashedly, intertwining and gambolling, while the cattle and sheep around them seem to be overtaken by panic. This is no chaotic fata morgana, for to Hai, the women are a symbol of love – love that is free and uninhibited. Even though the world often responds with a puzzled look, the artist has no qualms about parading the beauty of love, much like the female spirits in his works.

With the onset of the 21^st century, the modes of Hai’s psychic expression have grown more diverse. He converses with and romances the characters in his mind via different forms, such as rock paintings, murals, facial paintings and sacrificial rituals. Hai’s soul can never settle down in quietude, but time and again, will take him deep into the source of all things. Whether we call them fantasies or weird thoughts, what have emerged from this fountainhead have to be taken seriously when they take shape on the canvas in various ways, for such imagery is  spiritual in nature to a certain extent, and renders   mysterious phantasms visible. Hai’s artistic expression is instinctive, wondrous and intriguing to behold, albeit unsophisticated. It comes across as now almost childish, now archaic, now insane.

We sense that Hai is distorting natural morphologies arbitrarily, producing misplaced eyes, stalactitic breasts, detached limbs, and so on. It makes us wonder why. The fact is, Hai never begins with considerations about how his painting will look in the end. That is never what the original consciousness is about. He simply indulges fully in the self-performance of the primal consciousness, and then presents it as it is, in all its authenticity and plenitude. Even though the images we see are devoid of logic and order, and sometimes almost downright bizarre, they are, to the artist himself, the best embodiments of his consciousness and emotions.

In the ink and acrylic pieces from 2007 that are centred around facial paintings (or “masks”), complete formlessness prevails, and the only identifiable objects are the eyes, which are actually a classic signifier in his oeuvre. Firefly-like eyes attached to the heads of human or animal figures [seen in “Autumn” (1995)] were already a distinct feature in Hai’s works in the 1990s. From then on, they gradually developed into an independent entity, showing themselves like ubiquitous wraiths in paintings like “Illusions” (2001), “Tree of Life” (2003), etc. If the figure of the bull is Hai’s body, the eyes would be none other than his psyche. The artist uses his eyes not only to see this dazzling world of ours, but also to listen and to think. Hence, the images he paints do not represent the way things look as initially apprehended by the visual faculty, but have been reassembled mentally, such that they look phantasmagoric, richly colourful and totally altered.

“Impressions” (2000) is of particular interest, as we can finally see here that the artist is willing to adopt a little conventional mentality and paint a “proper” face or two. In the four-tiered configuration of this painting, the most “normal” face is the first one on the left in the third row from the top, given that its eyes, eyebrows, nose, mouth and even nasal hair are all in their normal positions. The tightly shut lips and the eyes, partially open and glancing sideways, offer endless attributive possibilities, inviting us to surmise on the mental state of the person behind this face at this precise moment. For the second visage in the same row, however, the artist pays more attention to its general bulging roundness and the indolent facial expression, which is why the brows are rendered haphazardly and the nose is almost non-existent. By the third face, the artist has moved into transcendence; he seeks only to show us a detached, contemplative look with closed eyes.  The final face marks a breaking out from the human body itself, as is evident from its misplaced eyes, the tiny hole of a mouth, and the smudge that remains where the nose has been planed off. It speaks to us of a soul that has opened its eyes to gaze upon the world once again. Now, when we examine the other three tiers in the painting, no other “proper” face can be found. Instead, we are confronted by eyes wide open, fuzzy visages or ghost-like images. It does not seem that the artist intends to convey any specific look in the first place. He is merely paying attention, second by second, to whichever part of the body to which his mind is having the strongest reaction.

After all, when one is in a certain state of mind, there will always be certain “elements” that jump out from the pre-established order of things to form new motifs on their own. Eyes are a predominant feature of the face, which is in turn a predominant feature in our life. It is in this transmigration of salient features that Hai Rihan expounds, as it were, on the multifarious intricacies of the inner world. Clearly, his works are not combinations which strive to conform to logic. Rather, his paintings correspond to the need to construct anew a stage for the assemblage of soliloquies.

Hai’s opuses range from the mellow and gentle to the rough and tempestuous. We need to exercise patience in order to appreciate their emotional intensity. While it is possible to appreciate his colourfully decorated images on a superficial level, one has to focus most intently before the internally conflicting aspects thereof truly sink in. Consider, for example, the two pieces entitled “Life I” & “Life II” (2007). The visual pandemonium of colours and shapes here is more than meets the eye; it is really a struggle between beauty and ugliness, and between freedom and panic. As the female nudes writhe unreservedly and unrestrainedly, their sexuality is greatly heightened by their orange skin. However, as beautiful and free as they are, these figures are surrounded by countless gazing eyes, including both soft and hideous ones. While the artist is always eager to portray a world of the unbridled, unencumbered, relaxed and happy, he is often also haunted in actual execution by the conflicts in the depths of his soul. As a result, there is ugliness in the midst of beauty, as well as violent restlessness in the midst of gentle touches.

The artistic imagination of Hai Rihan has been baptized by, and filtered through, his soul, such that painting and dreaming are simultaneous acts. He allows his shapes and images to each take on a life of their own. Regardless of whether they are eyes, hands, thighs or breasts, or whether they twist, rotate through the air or become entangled, the artist allows them to materialise and mutate spontaneously, and does not intervene. He merely sets up a fabulous stage for them, where they may each engage in articulations–of bitter sorrow, excitement, perplexity, privation–or by which they go all out to fulfill themselves through giving expression to souls which have had an emotional encounter. This emotional release is one that breaks free from the gravitational pull of the planet in the midst of a powerful rumbling, as it were. It is essentially a release from melancholic conventions, an entry into the sphere of Romanticism that is wholly at one with the primordial Cosmos.

A case in point would be the Number IV in the “Images of Dunhuang” series (2002). So much is going on in this painting, yet the main theme seems quite unrelated to religion. Here, once again, we see the female nudes that are so readily summoned by the painter’s mind, as well as the entanglement of human and animal bodies. Nothing is what it seems, and one can hardly tell which is what. By painting in a daze, so to speak, the artist has led viewers into his fantasies. I feel excited each time I see Hai’s work. Often, I find myself searching for something on the paper, my eyes wide open. It holds everything, that which is clearly discernible, and that which is somewhat fuzzy. In viewing the painting, one becomes something of a gatherer of flowers or a treasure hunter, enjoying the process and having an adventure at the same time.  Art is like the human psyche, and can be so illogical. Art also inspires, despite the fact that it is sometimes abstruse and difficult to pin down.

As the French painter Pierre Bonnard (1867-1947) once said, “When an artist expresses emotions, what he creates is a self-contained world. The painting he produces, not unlike a book, bears inherent meaning, no matter where it happens to appear.”

Chen Jiazi

Art Critic

_________________________________________________________________________________

不需要逻辑的艺术

正如中国美术评论家贾方舟所说，要解释海日汗的画是困难的，在我们面前的作品，充满了原始意味的狂怪和粗野，常人实难理解，同行也会摇头。但从另外一种角度来说，解释他的画又是一项非常单纯的行为，因为不需要为他梳理什么画风流派、技法源头或象征手段，他不是一个为了艺术而艺术的人，他的艺术就是他自己，他内心深处的秘密，就像诗人、文学家、音乐家用韵律、文字或音符来表达他们的情感世界一样，海日汗的表达方式就是图画。

海日汗是用图画向我们讲述他整个生命中的故事——他的内心秘密，他的白日梦游，他的奇思怪想。动物看人是什么样？什么是舒服？什么离你最远？如果你知道他会如此认真地追究这样没有任何逻辑的问题，你也就容易走向他的画作了。

海日汗这位蒙古后裔，流淌着奔腾豪放的血液，蓄积着原始苍茫的情感。呼伦贝尔大草原养育了他的身体，也滋润了他的灵魂。“我的草原不是一般人眼里的草原，我希望能用野性的气息，表现活的草原。”的确，海日汗从未给我们一张直率描写“草原”的画作，天苍苍、野茫茫的景色不足以让海日汗浪费画面，他在意的是存在于这个景色中的生命——牧人和牛马羊，他贪婪地追寻着她们的气息，那些带有几分原始野性的精灵。

其实，海日汗的画十分单纯，最初画中的角色只是他和他的家人：母亲、舅舅、老婆、女儿。至于他自己，大多数是一头公牛的化身，一个几乎场场露面、自我灵魂象征的喻体，偶尔，他也会带着帽子骑在一匹瘦骨嶙峋却大眼突神的马背上，不过极为少见。贾方舟评述得很形象：“他们都是海日汗心灵世界的公民，是画家召之即来的情绪演员，他只借助他们创造他此时的心理氛围，表现他此时或孤寂、或平静、或热切的心灵现实。他从来不画与心灵无关的东西，因为艺术活动在他看来是一种直接的生命方式，一种对生命的体验，对生活的反刍”（“心灵世界的漫游者”《画室探访第二页》1998）。

九十年代中后期开始，更多的裸体女人作为美丽的主人公走进了海日汗的画面，她们毫无顾忌、自由自在地奔跑着、纠缠着、跳跃着，似精灵，像梦幻，而周围的牛羊却是一副惊恐万分的神态。这不是一个混沌的梦幻，对于海日汗来说，女人就是爱的象征体，爱是自由的、奔放的，尽管这个世界总有那些异样的眼光，但画家就像画中的女魂毫无顾忌地展示着爱的美丽。

进入21世纪，海日汗心灵的表达方式更加丰富起来，借用岩画、壁画、脸谱、祭祀等形式，与他心中的角色们谈天说爱。海日汗有一颗不甘寂寞的心灵，这心灵带着他一直深入到万物之源，从这源泉里发出来的东西——无论称之为梦幻、还是怪念——当它通过各种手法展现在画布上的时候，我们必须认真对待它，因为它在某种程度上已经具有了精神性，而且使神秘的幻觉变成了一种可视之物。海日汗的艺术表现是本能的、奇妙的和纯朴可观的，有时近乎天真幼稚，有时显得原始古朴，有时给人疯狂之感。

在海日汗的作品中，为什么我们会感觉到他是在对一些自然形态作任意扭曲，像错位的眼睛，钟乳状的乳房，分解的肢体……。对他来说，他从没有先去考虑一幅画的最后的形式，因为那并不是最初的意识，他尽情地享受在原始意识的自我表演中，然后将它们的真实面貌全盘呈现。尽管我们看到的是无逻辑的、无秩序的、有时又几近怪诞的图像，但对于画家而言，那是他意识和情感的最好体现。

2007年，海日汗画了一批“脸谱”题材的墨彩丙烯画，完全是一种无形无态的表现，唯一能认得的只有眼睛。“眼睛”是海日汗画中的经典符号， 1995年《秋》那种附在人或动物头上似萤火虫般的眼睛，是他九十年代作品的特征，之后眼睛逐渐变成一个独立体，像幽灵一样无处不在，如2001年的《幻》、2003年的《生命树》等。如果说“公牛”是海日汗的形体，那么“眼睛”就是他的心灵。他不仅用眼睛去看这个大千世界，还用眼睛去听、去想，由此，他笔下生出的，已不再是那些最初映入眼帘的原有物状，而是在心灵重新组装过的影像，充满幻觉的、色彩斑斓的、面目皆非的。

2000年的《大印像》颇有兴趣，我们终于看到画家肯用一点儿世俗心写一两个“规矩”的脸相。全幅作四个排段，先看第三排，左边第一张脸是最“正常的”，因为眼、眉、鼻、嘴甚至是鼻毛，都被安放在正常的位置，正是那紧闭的嘴唇与那微睁斜视的双眼，足可让我们用无数个形容词，来揣测这人一瞬间的心理状态。接着看第二个，画家在意的是那张圆肿的脸和一副懒散的表情，所以，眉毛随意乱点，鼻子也懒得画了；第三个，超脱了，要的是一副闭目沉思、任其索然的神态；最后一个，从人体脱壳了，错位的眼睛，空洞般的小嘴，铲平了的鼻子，一个睁开双眼重新审视这个世界的灵魂相。再看画面其它三排，我们再也找不出“规矩相”了，要么只是睁大的眼球，要么只是模糊的脸庞，要么像幽灵一般的影像，画家并没想对一个什么“相”作具体的交代，他只是在意自己内心每一秒钟在那个器官的最强烈的反应。这就像在某种特定的心境中，总有一些“要素”会从它们原来安排好的列队中跳出来，形成一个新的主题符号。眼睛是面相的主体，面相又是人生的主体，海日汗就是在这样一个主体轮回中，阐述千变万化的心灵世界。艺术作品并不是一个讲究符合逻辑的组合，而是需要重新构建一个由各自独白而合成的表演舞台。

海日汗的作品，有温和柔情的，也有粗野狂躁的，我们需要耐心才能把握其中的情感强度，你可以从肤浅的层次去欣赏他用色彩装饰的画面，但你必须全神贯注才能真正领会他内在矛盾的一面。2007年的两幅《生命之一及生命之二》，由色彩和块面引起的视觉骚动只是表面现象，实际上是一场美与丑、自由与惊恐的挣扎：裸身的美女们毫无顾忌、放任地扭动着躯体，橘黄色的肌肤增添了十分性感，她们美丽而自由。然而，就在美丽的左右，无数只眼睛在张望着，有温和也有狰狞。海日汗总是想在小小的画布上，制造出一片放任自由、轻松愉快的天地，然而， 到了具体实行的时候，却总是摆脱不了心灵深处矛盾的对抗：美丽中有丑陋，柔情中有狂躁。

海日汗的心灵，通过他艺术的想象力经受着洗礼和过滤。他作画的行为和做梦是同步的，他允许画中的形状、图像形成各自独立的生命——眼睛、手、大腿、乳房，扭动、飞转、纠缠——他都听任它们任意出现，自行变化，并不多加干预。他只是给它们搭建一个美丽的舞台，让它们各自做着自我完成的表述——凄苦、兴奋、迷惘、落魄，或尽情地去表现灵魂与情感相遇后的宣泄，这种宣泄，带着剧烈震动的力量冲出了地球引力，挣脱了忧郁的规范形式，进入了与原始宇宙浑然一体的浪漫主义世界中。

2002年的《敦煌印象》系列，场面虽然很热闹，但主题似乎与宗教没什么关系，还是他心灵那群召之即来的裸女演员，以及人的、动物的肢体缠绕在一起，似是不是、似像不像。画家在神游中作画，结果也把观者带入到了他的神游梦幻中。我每次看他的画都很兴奋，在那些纸张上，我总是睁大眼睛地寻找着什么，看得清楚的，模模糊糊的，统统都在里面，像采花，像寻宝，既享受又冒险。艺术如人心，又是那样不合逻辑。艺术还予人以启迪，即使有时它很深奥难以捉摸。

法国画家皮埃尔·博纳尔（Pierre Bonnard, 1867-1947）说过：“艺术家描绘感情时，创造的是一个自给自足的世界，他创作的画，就像一本书一样，有着固有的内涵，无论它碰巧出现在哪里。”

陈家紫

艺术评论家