POLITICS AND GAME

These black and white portraits by Zhu Yi Yong are disrupted by the red five-pointed stars. The heads appear to be sliced by the complex and angular lines of the red five-pointed stars; the faces are slit, and divided into zones of shattered faces. Against the black and white backdrop, the red five-pointed stars stand out in sharp contrast. Placed at the centre of the images, these thin red lines pulsate with their complex regularity, and they come across to the viewers as the focus of the paintings. The five-pointed stars and the faces clash as they both demand the viewers' attention. There appear to be two focal points in the paintings, creating a sense of conflict and displacement. We can see how the faces and the five-pointed stars fall on different paths. The eyes.-the most prominent features of the subjects--do not overlap with the five-pointed stars. They seem to look away from the stars to a faraway place outside of the paintings, as if they were looking at the audience. The five-pointed stars are outside of their vision-- even if they fall right in front of the subjects, the eyes will see through the minute cracks of these icons. From this perspective, the five-pointed star is an autonomous subject with no connection to the face.

Yet the five-pointed star is connected to the hands, and the two form an intricate structure. The hands support the five-pointed star and determine its form and placement--this is a game in one's hands, a classic game of cat's cradle. The cat's cradle is a matter of the hands. The hands are indulging in themselves in the cat's cradle, and the painting is a capture of this process. As the eyes are looking outside of the painting, they are disconnected from the hands, or the two are in a state of separation. The hands appear to be detached from the body; they are companions for each other in a flowing dialogue. There is an understanding, an engagement, even a touch of drama in their movements. This is the game of the hands. The hands are speaking to one another, disconnected from the body and the soul. It is a monologue of the self, like the expression in one's eyes. In this sense, there are two languages in these paintings--the language of the face, and the language of the hands. The two forms of expression unfold on separate paths. It is a portrait of the face as much as the hands. Or the hands are accentuated along with the face in the painting, and both become the focus of the portrait. The hands take on a key role in the portrait; they are disproportionally large in comparison to the face. The fingers point to the world outside of the painting, like the eyes reaching out to an outside vision.Against the face, the hands form an autonomous universe. This is a split portrait of a split personality. It portrays a person indulged in the game of the self, who speaks through their hands; it portrays someone looking towards the distance with a deep curiosity, observing the presences in the external world, and speaking through their eyes and face.The former is a person in action; the latter is an observer. The former is a person absorbed in the game and the self, showing no interest in the external world. The latter is someone who has emptied and forgotten the self, through diverting one's attention entirely to the external world.

Beyond the portrayal of a subject, the portrait embodies two visual languages and two personalities. The portrait has its intrinsic duality. The portrait marks the division of the self.

In this context, there is also an intrinsic duality to the five-pointed stars. They are symbols of both game and politics--Zhu Yi Yong painted the five-pointed stars in bright red to draw the viewers' attention and to make his statement. It is easy to fall back on a certain revolutionary era in these icons--the five-pointed star is a totem of revolution in China, and it exists in every facet of the country's political life. The political symbol not only recalls past eras, but remains an integral part of the country's representation in present times. It is solemn, sacred, noble and resolute--it is the opposite of game. The two come into an intriguing connection in Zhu's portraits. We do not know if the five-pointed star grows more playful in the backdrop of game, or if the game is dulled by the political vocabulary. Whatever the answer may be, the five-pointed star baffles with its dual and contradictory semantics: the semantics of game, and the semantics of politics. The painting perplexes the audience: Is it a painting about politics or game? ls it a painting of nostalgia or irony? ls it a painting that fuses game with politics, and nostalgia with irony? When game and politics fall into the same equation, one cannot help but ask: Isn't politics a kind of game? lsn't it a cat's cradle between two opponents?

Perhaps we are deciphering the paintings with the visual language of“Memories of China" because of these suppositions. Thirty years ago, politics permeated every facet of everyday life, rendering it an existence of "The Political Unconscious". Politics is the ultimate horizon of history. Even children and games are not free from this confine. People imagine that games may break the chains of politics. What they fail to grasp is that politics can find its way into the most aimless game. This does not refer to the cat's cradle; rather, it harks back to many of our childhood games where politics lurked in the background. Politics eroded our childhood games, just as business corrupts everyone's game today. Happiness no longer seems to exist in these games--the subjects never smile in Zhu's portraits. With their different hairstyles, outfits and facial expressions, these subjects appear to be from different historical eras. Still, none of these children or adults seem to find any happiness, as they do not indulge in any game for the sake of the game. A game only brings happiness when it does not serve any purpose. It is the happiness of consumption and emotional release, of giving oneself to the moment with no purpose. The happiness of consumption is an essential childhood experience. Politics has become a tool in our childhood experience and even invades our adulthood; it has run through the eras and continues to reign today. Perhaps this is our historical memory, a kind of memon that Zhu Yi Yong calls "Memories of China".

Wang Minan

September 6, 2012

‍政治与游戏

朱毅勇的这些黑白肖像画，被红色的五角星图案所打扰。这些五角星图案以其复杂而生硬的线条，将头像切割了。面孔好像被切割成几块，被切割成几个区域，像是一个破碎的面孔。而且同画面肖像的黑白色调相对应，这些五角星的红色非常刺眼。尽管它们是一些单纯的狭窄线条，但是，因为它们鲜艳的红色，它们在画面中的中心位置，它们富有规律的紧凑的图案本身，使得它们好像也成为画面的重心，成为画面中最引人注目之所在。就此，这个五角星图案和肖像面孔在画面中出现了争执，它们都力图夺人耳目。画面似乎出现了两个焦点，两个重心，这就使得画面出现了一种不协调的冲突，一种错位状况。确实，我们看到，肖像面孔和五角星甚至是各行其道，面孔最恰切的表征是眼睛，而眼睛并不同这个五角星图案相交织，也就是说，眼睛不看这个五角星，它们总是看着远方，看着画外，看着看画的观众，好像五角星从来不在它的视野之内，即便五角星挡在它的面前，它好像也要执意穿透五角星的缝隙。就此，这个五角星像是自主的，同面孔没有关联。

但这个五角星同手发生了关联，它和手构成了一个密不可分的结构。手是它的支撑物，手决定了它的形态和位置——这是手上的游戏，一种古老的翻绳游戏。翻绳，是手的运动，是手的事业。手沉浸在自己的翻绳游戏中，画面正是对此的捕捉。由于眼睛盯着画外，眼睛和手分开了，准确地说，面孔和手分开了。手好像不是长在某个身体上，手只是和手相依为伴，手和手展开一场相互对称的对话，它们配合默契，非常投入，以至于有时表现得有些夸张。这是手和手之间的游戏。手在说话，两只手在相互说话，它们好像脱离了身体、脱离了人本身在说话，手在自言自语，在自我表达，就如同眼睛也在表达一样。就此，这些画有两种语言，面孔的语言和手的语言：面孔的表达和手的表达，它们分道扬镳。这是关于面孔的绘画，同时也是关于手的绘画，或者说，肖像画以这种方式将手凸显出来，将手置放在和面孔同等的位置。手和面孔分享了肖像画的分量。手在画面中占据了如此重要的地位，它被画得非常大，以至于和面孔比较其比例大得有些失真。手的五指笔直展开指向画外，好像是在向画外射击，如同眼睛也是对外的目击一样。相对于面孔而言，手形成了一个自主的世界。这是一种分裂的画面，因而也是一种分裂的人：一方面是沉浸在自我游戏中的人，通过手来说话的人；另一方面是在远眺的人，在观望外在世界的人，对外界有好奇心的人，是通过眼睛和面孔来说话的人。前者是无目的的人，后者是有期待的人。前者是行为中的人，后者是观看的人。前者是游戏的人，对外在世界毫无兴趣，沉浸和迷恋于自我之中；后者则将自己掏空了，将自己的注意力完全转向了画外，转向了外部从而遗忘了自身。

因此，一张肖像画画出了一个肖像，但却画出了两种语言，两种人。肖像画有一种内在的两重性。肖像画在自我撕裂。不仅如此，这个五角星图案也有两重性。它是游戏的符号，同时也是政治的符号——朱毅勇将这个五角星图案画得如此的鲜红，如此地引人注目，显然，这是他的一个特殊处理。人们非常容易在这个图案中回到某种特定的革命年代——五角星是中国革命的一个图腾式的符号，它在政治生活中无处不在——作为一个政治记号，它不仅渗透在曾经的日常生活中，而且至今镶嵌在标志性的国家代码中，它庄严，神圣，崇高，坚定——也就是说，它和游戏势不两立。但是，在朱毅勇的画面中，这个政治性代码却奇妙地和游戏嫁接在一起。我们不知道，这个五角星是因为被置入进游戏中而变得轻浮了还是因为这个游戏被植入政治语义而变得滞重了？无论如何，这个五角星图案变得扑朔迷离，它呈现出双重的充满抵牾的语义：游戏的语义和政治的语义。这也使得画面变得扑朔迷离：这是关于政治的绘画还是关于游戏的绘画？是怀旧的绘画还是反讽的绘画？或者说，这是将游戏和政治，是将怀旧和反讽搅在一起的绘画？一旦游戏和政治被搅合在一起，人们当然会感叹：政治难道不是一种游戏吗？不也是两个对手之间的翻绳游戏？

或许我们正是在这个意义上将这些绘画置放到“中国记忆”的语境中。事实上，在30年前，政治大规模地渗透到日常生活中，以至于日常生活中充满了詹姆逊所说的“政治无意识”。政治，绝对是历史的终极地平线。连孩童也不例外，连游戏也不例外。人们总是认为游戏能够冲破政治的桎梏，但是，一种完全没有功用的游戏有时候也竟然将政治素材作为它的道具——这当然并非指的是翻绳游戏，而是说我们的童年时期的许多游戏确实有一些政治的要素渗透其中。政治污染了游戏，就如同今天的商业也在污染游戏一样。这样的游戏好像不存在快乐——就如同朱毅勇的这些游戏的主角从来没有欢笑一样。尽管他们的发式不同，穿着不同，表情不同——显然，画面中的人物跨越了不同的时代，但是，无论是哪个年代的孩子，无论是孩童还是成年人，他们好像没有在游戏中获得快乐，没有沉浸在纯粹的游戏之中。事实上，游戏之所以有巨大的快乐，就是因为它不是功用性的，它是一种单纯的消耗之快乐，它的快乐就在于它的释放，它的无功用的消耗。消耗带来快乐。而这正是幼年的经验特征。但是，政治作为道具，渗透到幼年的经验中——甚至渗透到成年的经验中，政治游戏一直贯穿着我们的时代，直至今天。或许，这就是我们的历史记忆，一种被朱毅勇所称作的“中国记忆”。

汪民安

09.06.2012