Life exists in the myriad of loneliness — Yao Qian

Time is an enemy as well as a friend, because time can’t help but lead us from youth to middle age, and finally to old age. We heave sighs over our aging appearances and describe time as a butcher. But after all this, we can finally understand and familiarize ourselves with the world due to the passage of time. This is achieved because everything changes with time. Only when we are willing to face the concept of time, when we lift the veil of pity and face ourselves, when we view everything around us as being equal to us, when we pass through the pool of time, only then can we more clearly see the lines that connect us with our generation. Only in the passage of time do we perceive the meaning and consequences brought by change. Through these changes in time, I can begin to uncover the hidden collective consciousness of a generation and understand the subtle nuances brought by different groups of individuals. I, like everyone else in the same generation, exist only as an individual in a group, sometimes embracing assimilation, sometimes withdrawing into solitude and self-possession. Life is thus consumed in this oscillation between these two extremes. Although this kind of experience may not seem noteworthy, when it is expressed in the works of another individual from the same generation, it is able to guide us to see time and ourselves more clearly.

For this reason, I have always been interested in contemporary art, music, literature, film, and other cultural artifacts. I always come back to reading and appreciating these works as a means of understanding my own existence without being impeded by any emotions. Even an encounter with a creator whose opinions or aesthetics differ greatly from mine can still bring much food for thought to me when I am lost. However, any continuous engagement any work over a long period of time is more like a proof of a collaboration than a means of appreciation. Of course, when I am fortunate enough to encounter a work that reflects my own feelings, I naturally feel comforted. This is how I felt when I first viewed the works of Mr. Su Wangshen. 

The first piece that I laid eyes on was a tiny oil painting: a couple of puppies were fighting in a field, unwilling to compromise over a small piece of land. The composition is humorous but also characterized by a sense of absurdity and desolation. The yellow ground and red-brick walls divide the composition into neat territories. Seeing these dogs that have never struggled against the miseries of life and don’t know their own impotence in the face of the world provides much to think about. In fact, it seems that my own teenage years were spent in a little bubble that provided me with an infinite realm of possibilities. This experience is characteristic to all living animals: fighting and rebelling in a small piece of land, meeting the expectations and imaginations that come into action with hormones, and feeling the exhilaration afterwards. These are all ripples created by the constant torrent of time, and we have only contributed to a few disturbances in the larger scheme of things. Su has accurately presented this through the virtual world he creates.

I often feel that the greatness of artistic creation does not lie in scale, nor does it lie in the grand explications formed by critics and viewers as an afterthought. Rather, it should be experienced as a force of the moment, passed on as a result of an understanding. Mr. Su Wangshen’s artworks come close to this. He has always simply faced those surrounding his life and himself, using the path of the shortest distance and the most humane way of keeping in contact with the world, in this manner, he manifests fleeting time. I have been following his work for twenty years, and like his artworks, I have heaved many sighs over my changing homeland. This has made me realize that the concept of a homeland is as variable as time. The concept of homeland is created by where we are in the moment while the memories that we retain only recede farther and farther into the background; the only unchanging thing is the contrast that exists between sadness and happiness. Whenever I experience Su’s works, I am reminded of this feeling. From Danshui to Kaohsiung to Tainan and occasionally to Beijing, he creates a stage filled with prose over and over again. The protagonists in this play are the unchanging canines, which exist as manifestations of the primary needs of all organisms responding to the changing times. In this manner, Su portrays these little clusters of life, sometimes existing as groups, sometimes as individuals, sometimes reflecting the viewer, sometimes presenting a familiar face. Among the fragments of poetry and the interactions introduced between the land and these clusters of life, I am able to see the shape of time. 

The world has completely changed in the past twenty years. Today, we live amongst digital businessmen and bankers, and our lives are dominated by the new rulers of wealth and the internet. We are taught to understand a facsimile of the world through a string of data, in this manner, our understanding of life and existence is also changed and manipulated. This process is like viewing the world through the lens of a camera: unknowingly, we are processed through a series of beautifying apps. From when did our reality become a distorted image tampered by the new rulers of our generation? All the information presented to us is merely handpicked by an overarching AI. When desires and imaginations are results of calculation and navigation, we can no longer see the path of truth. This world that operates so smoothly on a virtual level only disguises the reality of a locked cage. When I look at Su Wangshen’s paintings, it seems as if he has predicted this outcome a thousand times over. When we reinterpret his paintings under the magnifying lens of society today, the simple stage becomes a carrier that transcends the limits of life. To a group of living creatures living amongst this changing world, reality seems like both a trial and a playground. Reacting to these limitations set on life, the painted dogs show themselves in their most fierce stance that approaches self-ridicule, just like us! The changing virtuality and reality described in Su Wangshen’s paintings are all accurate descriptions of protagonists who are thrown out of their life of peace into a changing world, whether they are found climbing a garden tree or traversing a desolate land. The appearance of groups is merely a temporary solution formed against the tide of life. In the world of Su’s paintings, life exists in the myriad of loneliness. Individual feelings and changes of thought are intertwined with the viewer’s observations, reflecting the viewer’s own psyche. 

When we are no longer observing from God’s point of view but from a perspective close to those existing on earth, communication is created through creativity. Creation is always equal and originates from Su Wangshen’s paint brush. 

Abou the Artist 
Su Wangshen was born in Taiwan in 1956. He graduated from the Fine Art’s department of Chinese Culture University and currently lives and works in Tainan City. He has many solo exhibitions in, including "Animal Farm: The Paintings of Su Wangshen" (2015) at the Taipei Fine Arts Museum, "Post-Utopia: Exhibition of Su Wangshen and Li Mingze" (2010) at the Mountain Art Foundation in Beijing, "Peep" (1997) at the National Tsing Hua University Arts Center in Taiwan, etc. His works have been collected by the Taipei Fine Arts Museum, the National Taiwan Museum of Fine Arts, the Kaohsiung Museum of Fine Arts, and the Long Museum.