Lot Essay
‘Every work is my self-portrait.’——Liu Ye
Red permeates the entirety of Liu Ye’s Red No. 2 and a teary-eyed, Lolita-like little girl stands at the edge of a cliff, looking sorrowfully into the horizon. The present work is the second in Liu’s iconic series of three red square paintings of the same size from 2003, recalling modern abstract masters Richter’s and Rothko’s exploration of the multifaceted character of the bold colour. As noted by critic Zhu Zhu, 2003 marked the beginning of Liu’s golden era. More significantly, Red No. 2 is the only painting in the series that shows the little girl’s full profile, setting an intimate tone wherein she seems to communicate with the viewer directly. Reminiscent of Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita, Liu’s little girl is a guise for stolen innocence. Further, the solid red background is of particular importance: it signifies passion, departing from the intimation of Cultural Revolution propaganda in Liu’s earlier Sailor series from the 1990s. Red No. 2 is therefore at once an attestation to the artist’s stylistic maturity and a window into his complex inner world that meanders between melancholy and passion.
Like many of his contemporaries, Liu was deeply affected by the growing pains that overshadowed the social and political atmosphere at the turn of the century. The artist thus found solace in his childhood memories of reading forbidden books hidden by his children’s playwright father and language teacher mother during the tumultuous 1960s and 1970s. The Lolita-like little girl became a refuge for his inner child and is a remarkable example of his stylistic shift in the early 2000s. Female figures began to take centre stage in his paintings in succinct settings in 2003, shifting from the iterations of his star protagonist of the sailor boy in theatrical settings from the 1990s. Like the sailor boy who was an allegorical symbol of boyhood, the little girl in Liu’s composition embodies his childhood memories that transpired as adult desires. Liu’s female figures began as a cipher for a girlfriend, but like his other children’s subjects, they eventually became ambiguous embodiments of the intrinsic dilemmas of humanity. The artist once further expressed that every work is a self-portrait. Given this, the little girl in Red No. 2 is at once a reflection of the self and a projection of collective sensibilities.
‘I grew up in a world that was covered up in red—the red sun, the red flag and red scarves. As for green pines and cedar, or sunflowers, they were usually just foils for the symbolism of red.’——Liu Ye
Red carries particular importance within Liu’s oeuvre. As Zhu profoundly commented on Liu’s return, ‘[homecoming] not only signifies the geographical return to a familiar setting; it is also a psychological return to one’s own childhood’ (Z. Zhu, ‘Only One Gram’, in C. Noe (ed.), Liu Ye: Catalogue Raisonné: 1991-2015, Ostfildern 2015, p. 21.). In the present work, the mass of red caresses the little girl’s figure, harkening back to the chiaroscuro effect of Van Eyck paintings. The colour seemingly extends from the canvas to embrace the viewer. Yet, the cool undertone exudes a solemn ambience, corresponding with the little girl’s melancholic facial expression. Wispy, dark green cedar trees populate the meagre corners of the painting, reminiscent of the rendering of negative space in Song dynasty ink paintings. Despite the apparent stillness of the red background, the little girl’s streams of delicate tears are frozen in the frame, while her short bob and bright green dress are captured swaying in the air, as if blown by a soft breeze. Another example with similar compositional components is Gun (2001-2002, M+ Sigg Collection, Hong Kong). Red elicits instant allusions to the collective memory of the Cultural Revolution, However, as stated in one of Liu’s interviews, he has no interest in filling his works with political overtones. Rather, it is how the personal emotion can be amplified through his pictorial world that matters—red, is thus a vessel of one’s nostalgia, or maybe, a time capsule among us.
Red permeates the entirety of Liu Ye’s Red No. 2 and a teary-eyed, Lolita-like little girl stands at the edge of a cliff, looking sorrowfully into the horizon. The present work is the second in Liu’s iconic series of three red square paintings of the same size from 2003, recalling modern abstract masters Richter’s and Rothko’s exploration of the multifaceted character of the bold colour. As noted by critic Zhu Zhu, 2003 marked the beginning of Liu’s golden era. More significantly, Red No. 2 is the only painting in the series that shows the little girl’s full profile, setting an intimate tone wherein she seems to communicate with the viewer directly. Reminiscent of Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita, Liu’s little girl is a guise for stolen innocence. Further, the solid red background is of particular importance: it signifies passion, departing from the intimation of Cultural Revolution propaganda in Liu’s earlier Sailor series from the 1990s. Red No. 2 is therefore at once an attestation to the artist’s stylistic maturity and a window into his complex inner world that meanders between melancholy and passion.
Like many of his contemporaries, Liu was deeply affected by the growing pains that overshadowed the social and political atmosphere at the turn of the century. The artist thus found solace in his childhood memories of reading forbidden books hidden by his children’s playwright father and language teacher mother during the tumultuous 1960s and 1970s. The Lolita-like little girl became a refuge for his inner child and is a remarkable example of his stylistic shift in the early 2000s. Female figures began to take centre stage in his paintings in succinct settings in 2003, shifting from the iterations of his star protagonist of the sailor boy in theatrical settings from the 1990s. Like the sailor boy who was an allegorical symbol of boyhood, the little girl in Liu’s composition embodies his childhood memories that transpired as adult desires. Liu’s female figures began as a cipher for a girlfriend, but like his other children’s subjects, they eventually became ambiguous embodiments of the intrinsic dilemmas of humanity. The artist once further expressed that every work is a self-portrait. Given this, the little girl in Red No. 2 is at once a reflection of the self and a projection of collective sensibilities.
‘I grew up in a world that was covered up in red—the red sun, the red flag and red scarves. As for green pines and cedar, or sunflowers, they were usually just foils for the symbolism of red.’——Liu Ye
Red carries particular importance within Liu’s oeuvre. As Zhu profoundly commented on Liu’s return, ‘[homecoming] not only signifies the geographical return to a familiar setting; it is also a psychological return to one’s own childhood’ (Z. Zhu, ‘Only One Gram’, in C. Noe (ed.), Liu Ye: Catalogue Raisonné: 1991-2015, Ostfildern 2015, p. 21.). In the present work, the mass of red caresses the little girl’s figure, harkening back to the chiaroscuro effect of Van Eyck paintings. The colour seemingly extends from the canvas to embrace the viewer. Yet, the cool undertone exudes a solemn ambience, corresponding with the little girl’s melancholic facial expression. Wispy, dark green cedar trees populate the meagre corners of the painting, reminiscent of the rendering of negative space in Song dynasty ink paintings. Despite the apparent stillness of the red background, the little girl’s streams of delicate tears are frozen in the frame, while her short bob and bright green dress are captured swaying in the air, as if blown by a soft breeze. Another example with similar compositional components is Gun (2001-2002, M+ Sigg Collection, Hong Kong). Red elicits instant allusions to the collective memory of the Cultural Revolution, However, as stated in one of Liu’s interviews, he has no interest in filling his works with political overtones. Rather, it is how the personal emotion can be amplified through his pictorial world that matters—red, is thus a vessel of one’s nostalgia, or maybe, a time capsule among us.