How and why did you start your artistic career?

Becoming an artist has always been my dream, and graduating from the RCA in 2024 formally launched my artistic career. Perhaps it was my parents frequently taking me to visit museums and galleries from a young age that sparked my deep interest in art.

As I gradually grew up, I discovered I possessed a particularly rich inner emotional life, with so many thoughts I longed to express. I felt words alone could never fully convey my thoughts and feelings. Thus, I began experimenting with small drawings – essentially comic strips. I would even craft narratives and worlds within these comics to express my reflections and frustrations about the world around me.

Naturally, my parents were ever-supportive of my creative endeavours. They gently guided me, seeking out the finest art tutors. Eventually, I ceased being merely a child scribbling on paper, I took up the brush, able to pour my emotions onto larger canvases. I realise I cannot live without art; it is an inner necessity for me, as essential as breathing.

How did you discover your medium and why did you choose it?

From my earliest creative endeavours, oil painting materials have been one of my primary mediums. I believe it was not I who chose the materials, but rather the materials that drew me in. Initially, I experimented with many different artistic materials. It was only during my secondary school years that I began to study painting systematically.

My first encounter was with watercolours, which imparted a translucent texture and a soothing quality. Consequently, I later chose watercolours for sketching, as they allowed me greater freedom from rigid conventions during the creative process.

Upon encountering oil paints, I was captivated by the layered texture they created on canvas and profoundly struck by the saturation of their hues. The weighty substance of oil paint, the ability to revise repeatedly and build layers, truly allowed me to express my inner thoughts. It helped me more skilfully employ techniques to sketch out my ideal “utopia”, transforming my emotional concepts into external forms with the utmost precision. It felt like my mother tongue – utterly effortless to wield.

Can you tell us about your creative process? How does your work come to life? How long does it take you to create a piece? When do you know it is finished?

I believe my creative process follows a rigorous approach, particularly during the initial sketching phase. This is not mere sketching but a process imbued with rationality. In the later stages, the selection of colours, the contemplation of relationships between elements within the composition, and the emotions I wish to convey all inform the final choices that are then rendered within the work.

In my recent creative endeavours and personal journey, I travelled to Tibet’s Ali region in search of “the boundaries of life”. Amidst the millennia-old murals and sculptures of the Guge Kingdom and Zhangzhung civilisation, I sensed the succession of peoples and dynasties. Just as I am Han Chinese, bearing a lineage and heritage stretching back through the ages, I explored life’s outward manifestations, delving into the inner essence of humanity – the crown of creation. This has been a fascinating journey: from chaotic inspiration to orderly formation, culminating in final release.

Guidance in Life. I have always had a deep yearning for Tibet, longing for that pure land. Later, due to my father’s work, I had the opportunity to live and travel there for a while. I visit Tibet almost once every year, and Tibet is vast. I prefer to refer to it as the Himalayas, as it aligns more with the respect I have for that land.

While in Tibet, I would visit local herders’ homes for meals and conversations. However, it was often difficult to understand their dialect. Through these interactions, I experienced the daily life and philosophical views of the Tibetan people.

Sometimes, I would also visit various monasteries in different regions, where the process of spiritual purification through faith is reflected in the way of life of the local people. I tried to follow the same practices of pilgrimage as the locals, but their way of thinking and living were completely different from mine.

Gradually, I began recording these experiences through words, such as local funeral customs, mythical stories, daily life details, romantic tales, and the unique cultural atmosphere, and sketches. I also documented the unique colors, symbols, and ornaments found in the area, accumulating material for future creative works.

In my current series titled “Ode,” I explore and redefine themes of departure, separation, and farewell, drawing upon the profound and often chilly realities of life’s passages. The coldest places in the world, I’ve come to realize, are not the ageless glaciers but rather the predestined coolness of human skin, as if it was always meant to be that cold.

As time marches on, the departures of those close to us might render us bewildered and speechless, perhaps influenced by the philosophical depth found in Tibetan culture. In my work, the concept of death and separation transforms into different modes of parting and encountering. This kind of farewell is a poignant “goodbye,” a wave, a last look back that encapsulates both the majestic and the definitive moments of life’s journey akin to leaving behind the bygone days, cherishing today’s meetings, and embracing the hope of tomorrow.

The ebb and flow of tides, the transition between dusk and dawn, starkly delineate the oscillation between hope and solitude, making one wonder if our very essence was pre-sculpted at birth to later serve as a beacon for those who follow, to be celebrated in their odes.

In this context, encounters involve giving of oneself body and soul to the original land that once more accompanies us. My work delves into the philosophical musings that pervade life in Tibet, where ancestral wisdom speaks to future generations through narratives of expectation and regret, continuing the song of life despite its inherent sorrows.

This body of work invites viewers to reflect on the perennial cycle of life and death, encouraging a deeper understanding of the transitory yet profound connections that define our existence. Through these artistic expressions, I aim to offer a meditation on the fleeting moments that, while they may seem insignificant, shape the essence of our being and our relationships with each other and the world.

In this process, I have ceased to be merely a painter; I can become any character or object. In my earlier days, I was like a sponge, greedily absorbing everything happening in the world, recording it through words or sketches. These might be a fleeting firefly, a cup of tea brewed for me by my mother, a neighbour knocking on my door to hand over fresh oranges brought back from the countryside… Or I might make a special journey to Tibet, the wellspring of all my inspiration, to immerse myself in their culture, the local customs and traditions, and the devotion to the soul of Shakyamuni.

Next, I transform into a chef, simmering all my gathered materials and insights in my mind. This is when I constantly ask myself, ‘What exactly do I wish to express?’ Transforming abstract ideas into tangible form is a process of exploration and experimentation, filled with trial and error.

Like an architect, I carefully construct the framework of my work, yet simultaneously yearn to boldly experiment with colour combinations and brushstroke control. Finally, I enter a state of “flow”. I become the brush in my own hand – creator, first viewer, and listener to the work. Time warps, and I begin a dialogue with it. My creative process is a dance of tension and release, a dance between reason and emotion, planning and serendipity, control and surrender.

I believe there is no standard answer to this question, as numerous factors come into play. The completion of a piece depends on its type, scale, and complexity. A large-scale work typically requires weeks or even months, during which I must make repeated revisions and patiently refine it.

This final question is one that has long troubled me, imbued as it is with profound philosophical undertones. I regard a work of art as akin to an ecological environment, where I must ensure its internal equilibrium.

Or when I sense the piece no longer requires my verbal interpretation—when it can converse directly with the viewer, possessing an independent “life” and clearly articulating my vision through the image—it has said all it needs to say.

“Knowing when to stop” is my guiding principle for determining a work’s completion. The greatest peril for any artwork is excessive embellishment, which robs it of its soul.

Who are your favorite artists? Which ones are you inspired by?

My favorite artist is Francis Bacon. Tang Bohu is my greatest inspiration. He was an outstanding painter of the Tang Dynasty in China. His unconventional yet profoundly human—continues to resonate with me.

THE ARTIST

Name: Zhenlin Zhang
Residence: UK

FEATURED WORKS