For this series, I chose to use coal mine powder as my medium because its texture is so raw and rough that every stroke feels like an explosion of life. coal itself is essentially ancient plants that have undergone countless years of compression and transformation, so when I draw with it, I can almost feel that deep, timeless energy. This reflects my longing for vitality and freedom—a desire that’s deeply rooted in who I am, shaped by the environment I grew up in--My hometown is rich in coal mine . It’s similar to the spirit of the ancient Chinese literati—the scholar-official spirit that values independence of the mind and spiritual transcendence. It’s a force that is both detached from the external world yet fiercely loyal to one’s inner self.
These pieces weren’t meticulously polished; instead, I completed them in a very short span of time. There’s meaning in that approach too—I’m drawn to capturing the rawness of a fleeting moment rather than endlessly refining it. Rodchenko once said that photography is powerful because it’s fast, cheap, real, and infinitely reproducible. That idea resonates with me. Since I didn’t use traditional pigments for these works and didn’t put much effort into preserving them, photography became the only way to record them. It’s also my way of exploring the intersection between contemporary technology and ancient artistic traditions.
In a sense, this blend is my way of questioning: does art always have to chase after eternity? By using these raw, visceral materials alongside modern photography, I’m challenging the boundaries between the traditional and the modern. It’s my attempt to explore how we can preserve something timeless in an era that moves so quickly.
This piece is also done with coal, and this time, it depicts Tang Xianzu, often referred to as the “Shakespeare of China.” This is part of my attempt to explore the intersections between my undergraduate background in literature and the cultural exchange between China and the West. Though Tang Xianzu and Shakespeare were rooted in different cultural contexts, both delved deeply into the exploration of human nature and emotions—one through Confucian philosophy and the other through Western drama.
While creating this piece, I thought about Edward Said’s Orientalism, where he discusses the complexities and misalignments in cultural exchanges between the East and West. I was also inspired by Xu Bing, who masterfully uses traditional elements to express contemporary ideas. Additionally, Homi K. Bhabha’s theory of the “Third Space” made me realize how the collision of Chinese and Western cultures can give rise to new, unexpected meanings.
In my undergraduate studies, intercultural communication was a core course, and I’ve observed that many of the most internationally successful artists engage with the interplay between ancient and modern, Eastern and Western elements. These small works are more like experiments for me—trying to see how I can use simple materials and techniques to express this kind of cross-cultural dialogue.
This piece was created using cigar ash, inspired by my teenage years when I was obsessed with Che Guevara and even started smoking cigars like him—a bit of that classic teenage rebellion, I guess. For me, it was just one of those fragments of life.
While working on this piece, I thought of Shelley’s Ozymandias—those “two trunkless legs” slowly turning to ash. That sense of fading wasn’t sudden but smooth and gradual, like the way cigar ash gently falls away. I tried to capture that feeling, but after finishing the piece, I just threw it away because, at the time, I was still figuring out my identity as an artist. I wasn’t really satisfied with anything I made and didn’t think about preserving it.
Interestingly, a lot of my foreign friends ended up really liking this piece. It made me realize that sometimes it’s the spontaneous, unpolished works that resonate the most. Later, I wove these experiences into my poetry collection My Life in London, using the concept of “ekphrasis” (a dialogue between poetry and art). I explored these themes from different angles, turning my experiments with cigar ash into poetry, capturing those fleeting moments and my ongoing self-exploration.
This piece was also created using coal mine powder, but unlike the previous work with cigar ash, the harder texture of coal allowed me to draw fine lines and intricate details. The inspiration for this piece came heavily from popular culture—probably because I had watched too many Andy Warhol arts and Marilyn Monroe movies. Those scenes made me think of Monroe’s iconic moment with her skirt billowing in the wind, capturing something both fragile and beautiful.
Using coal’s hardness and precision to draw fine lines, I tried to convey that sense of fleeting beauty. In this piece, I transformed Monroe’s flowing skirt into shapes resembling trees, leaves, and flowers. At that time, I think I was simply looking for a way to commemorate her short yet brilliant life.
Sky Ladder by Caiguoqiang
Cai uses grand landscapes and explosion techniques to create a narrative that’s both monumental and full of life. What fascinates me most is how the dust and ashes produced by his explosions become part of his work, capturing a brief yet powerful moment that leaves a unique mark.
His use of ash reminded me of my own creative experiments, such as using cigar ash and coal to capture that fleeting sense of beauty. Just as Cai uses explosions to seize the vitality of a moment, I experiment with these materials to explore the delicate balance between transience and eternity. To me, ash is not just the residue of destruction but a continuation of life, holding the potential for renewal even as it fades away.