It is not surprising that Sun Yongxin's work has never featured at any of Beijing's art galleries or exhibitions. Even though art circles acknowledge him as "the master of bird and flower painting", he has no interest in exposing his paintings to the wider public. "Real artists should never care about money," he says stubbornly. "If a painter focuses on how much money his picture can bring him, he [by definition] remains as he was at the start of his career."
Many a starving artist in the world's garrets would envy his dogmatism and disinterest in so-called filthy lucre, but hunger and the little matter of paying their rent invariably win the day. In a sector which, at international level, is known for its sharp practices and outright greediness, this modest 53-year-old's artistic integrity shines through like a refreshing beacon.
The only time he has been subjected to wide public acclaim was in 1995, when he was invited to display some of his paintings in Taiwan. They caused a sensation, with art lovers traveling long distances to view his solo exhibition. "The Taiwanese simply could not resist their uniqueness and charm," recalls a Beijing critic familiar with Sun's work.
"Simplicity" is how Sun sums up his style. He invariably sticks to three colors, or more correctly shades, for backgrounds -- black, white and gray. "Otherwise the picture looks totally messed up," he says.
Unlike most artists, whose talent appears at an early age, Sun only started to seriously learn about painting 14 years ago when working at the Zhaoyuan Linglong Goldmine in Shandong Province. He had been employed there since the age of 17, not by choice but because he had been ordered to leave school and work there during the Cultural Revolution.
Instead of being sent underground as a miner, he was put to work producing "rough" calligraphy, for which he had a natural talent. Thus he became a poster writer. He recalls that during the revolution he spent his days "writing up thousands of big posters, using brushes and chalk, related to Chairman Mao's latest orders or criticisms of capitalist roaders".
Sun admits: "I didn't see any point in doing them, but for political reasons and my respect for professionalism, I worked very hard." In time he became more qualified for his task, but failed to realize that the constant writing and drawing -- and consequent improvement in his technique -- was laying the foundation for professional painting later in his life.
"I think I should say thank you to the Cultural Revolution," he now generously says. Seven years after the revolution, the Art Museum of Linglong Goldmine was founded, with Sun as director. In 1987, during his unceasing quest for art donations, he met Cui Zifan, one of China's most famous painters. Cui had found fame through his talent in the xieyi school, freehand brushwork in traditional Chinese painting which is characterized by vivid expression and bold outlines.
Cui and Sun got on well, so Sun sent 30 of his pictures to the master for his advice. The response: "Go ahead! You might be successful." Sun was greatly inspired by the compliment, the more so when the master later became his teacher.
In cultivating his painting skills, Sun gradually, and more importantly, learned the secret of what lies behind the best xieyi: passion. In his opinion, no work can be successful if the painter's passion is not expressed in it. And for him, the best and most direct way of 'expressing passion is the medium of xieyi'.
Sun, who moved to Beijing in 1990, says it usually takes a painter three to six months to complete a single work in gongbi, the other major style of traditional Chinese painting, which uses fine brushwork and close attention to detail. "If a painter is inspired at the moment, you can't expect him to express it in gongbi because the passion can't last for half a year," he explains.
Sun acknowledges the need to keep his paintings attuned to developments in society. "Nowadays, people feel more pressures from life than before. After facing a crowded city for a whole day, they are unwilling to view a picture in which there is no space left for their imagination. That's why simplicity is my style."
While his paintings of flowers and birds lack "expression" in the accepted sense, they undoubtedly reflect the strong life force in Sun. The passion is evident at first glance, hence their popularity among art connoisseurs and other admirers. He has given more than 200 works to foreign friends from more than 40 countries as State presents, which perhaps partly explains his nomination as one of the 100 Most Excellent Painters in Contemporary China.
Currently, the market price for one of his works is US$16,000-20,000. But Sun Yongxin is among the first to know that such sums are far beyond the pockets of the average Chinese. Thus, where appropriate, he often sells his paintings at much lower prices. He has also been known to give some to foreign visitors if they don't have money with them.
One of Sun's more recent works was of peaches, which was presented to former Chinese army General Zhang Xueliang in Taiwan as a gift for his 100th birthday. In the late 1930s, Zhang was placed under house arrest for 40 years for his courageous act in arresting Jiang Kai-shek in 1937. Zhang was delighted with Sun's painting because, in Chinese tradition, the peach is the symbol of longevity.
Sun's generosity was also seen by Zhang as a gesture of support for mainland-Taiwan reunification. The Taiwanese, especially their elders, are extremely fond of Sun's art. He himself regards it as a channel for cultural and art exchanges across the Taiwan Strait. He sees himself as a human bridge connecting all Chinese people on both sides of the strait.
(21dnn 05/16/2001)
