One, and Many

Artist: Chen Hongzhi

Curator: Roxane Fu

If the stars, filled with passion, burn for us, And yet we cannot respond—what then? If I cannot feel as deeply, Let me become someone who loves more. (W. H. Auden, Academic Graffiti, 1957) Auden’s lines could almost serve as a footnote to Chen Hongzhi’s paintings: the radiance of the divine sets off the insignificance of the individual, and emotions—whether turbulent or subdued—are worn down by that same glow, becoming an endlessly reenacted cycle of solitude. A single face merges into the silhouettes of many, pointing to a universal condition of contemporary existence—being both present and invisible within the crowd.

Chen Hongzhi grew up in Xianyou, Fujian. In the traditional rituals of his hometown, individuals came together as a collective, offering prayers to the larger unknown—a cultural memory that lingers in his work. In his paintings, figures appear alone, in pairs, in groups, and finally in countless multitudes, evoking both distant childhood recollections and the structure of contemporary digital life. Light cuts across the canvas, becoming an essential presence. The reflections on skin, lingering shadows, or the silhouettes of figures against the light—these luminous whites make judgment and redemption unfold simultaneously. In Chen’s vision, the 'insignificance' of the individual is not a matter of contempt or dismissal. Imperfect bodies bear the slackness of exhaustion or the contortions of struggle, creating an intuitive and empathetic human experience. In the new works exhibited here, the use of eye-level perspective has increased, focusing on the individual in an intimate and private manner.

The exhibition features a series of oil paintings centered on an ethereal blue tone, extending into shades of green and lavender. Soft and restrained, the compositions are punctuated by interwoven brushstrokes that traverse the boundaries of form, blurring edges. The paintings often emerge from a dark undertone, setting off the figures that stand out under the light. As the illumination intensifies, the brightest areas seem to dissolve beyond the frame, giving the works both the familiarity of everyday life and the mystery of the unknown.

Overlapping and entangled limbs evoke a sense of revelry. Yet, the artist does not seek to capture the purely ecstatic joy of the Dionysian moment. Instead, through intense and extreme individual emotion, he reflects a more profound solitude. In these works, tightly intertwined bodies are set against an endless crowd viewed from above, suggesting that momentary conflicts are tempered by the cool detachment of a larger perspective.

In the end, all turbulent emotions and entangled flesh are 'worn down' by light, returning to an immense, all-absorbing silence—a search beyond the individual self, seeking something of the era.

Text by Curator Roxane Fu