Text by Fiona He

The first decade of the 21st century had barely passed when T.J. Clark released The Sight of Death: An Experiment in Art Writing, a book that records, in a diary-like form, his repeated viewing of two oil paintings by Nicolas Poussin, a representative figure of 17th-century French classicism: Landscape with a Calm and Landscape with a Man Killed by a Snake. Clark's deeply personal inner experiences shaped the way he approached these works, and his belief that “painting is like a mirror” responding to contemporary viewpoints, combined with his attempt at an in-depth and meticulous study, made this experiment a successful one.

On this foundation, if we shift our focus to Zhang Hui's work over the past decade, we might observe that there seems to be little "major change" in the "content" of his paintings. The themes of "urban forests," "natural landscapes," "branches and flowers," and "men and women" have not deviated from established genres in the history of painting. However, there is always a rational order or approach that delves into the internal processes of these subjects’ existence. Landscape painting in art history is often used to highlight the scale of time, symbolic meanings, or natural concepts from multiple dimensions. Portraits, due to their functional attributes, focus more on the depiction of a subject's identity, status, and contextual expression, which is why Clark was able to find so many details in Poussin's works. Zhang Hui does not seek to grab attention with sensational or curious imagery, nor does he follow the footsteps of his predecessors.

Zhang Hui has his own sense of “order.” He repeatedly "reinterprets" seemingly similar “themes” using an ever-expanding visual language. Buildings, streets, mountains, people, and flowers are the scales by which he measures order, akin to how Morandi devoted his life to still life painting. Over time, these paintings continuously reveal subtle changes, from the layout of the composition, to the movement or stillness of a single line. The way he thinks and reconstructs within the visual language system is revealed through the balance between large and small elements, light and shadow, and the passage of time under light. The coherence in these "genres", visual elements, and features has become a permanent framework for the artist's expression of his personal circumstances and emotional world.

This creative method leads us to speculate that, for Zhang Hui, the “subject” in the history of painting, as we traditionally understand it, may not be the "theme" of his work. The outwardly "landscapes," "vegetation," "figures," etc., are merely containers or shells that Zhang Hui uses to carry out deeper discussions, and even the way these carriers are outlined reveals a calm, restrained attitude. For instance, he often refines the outline of pre-existing objects in photographic images, discarding excessive ornamentation. Therefore, understanding his work solely through external paradigms risks oversimplification, and the deeper things hidden behind the works through the artist’s visual language deserve more attention.

In this exhibition, Zhang Hui juxtaposes numerous “paradigms” in his paintings, constructing a dialogue between the works in a way that "confuses the eye," directly emphasizing the role of the “subject” as the “shell” in his creations. At this point, distinguishing between categories like "landscape," "branches and leaves," and "figures" becomes particularly ineffective. The first impression of viewing Zhang Hui's works is undoubtedly a pleasurable one. He excels at using bright colors, simple compositions, and intuitive imagery. Beneath these familiar appearances, however, the artist constantly reminds the viewer of the sense of illusion within the painting. For example, the sun, which often appears in his works, appears in different ways across various paintings, with rays of light emanating from multi-colored lines that have no real connection to the light in the painting. In another piece, Flowers 2025 01, the large flower core is outlined with lines to depict a blooming peony, and the portrait-like treatment makes the highly refined lines of the main figure crowd together, similar to Spencer Tunick's photographs of bodies intertwined.

Zhang Hui is a reserved and taciturn individual, but occasionally reveals unique insights through a few words, which gives us an impression of the underlying tone of his creations. In conversations with him, one must often use an elimination approach to understand his views on things—that is, by gauging his stance and thoughts based on the affirmations or denials of others' interpretations of his work. This highlights the dominance of subjective consciousness in his creative process while leaving as much of the interpretative power to the viewers as possible. From another perspective, it is precisely because of the ample "information" embedded in the visual language he uses in his works that viewers can perceive the artist’s thought process and even construct their personal interpretations.

The training Zhang Hui received at the Central Academy of Fine Arts' Mural Department and his studies at an American academy’s New Media Art Department undoubtedly expanded the richness of his painting language. The use of fine lines, flat color blocks, quick brushstrokes, and partial color shading seem to trace back to the tradition of cross-cultural visual lexicons. He does not focus on the "originality" of the language system; the visual vocabulary, structures, and forms that already exist in art history are sufficient for him to establish an order suitable for his personal expression through selection and reconstruction. Judging his works based on fluorescent colors alone to determine their era-specific or contemporary characteristics would be a gross misunderstanding.

In his recent works, Zhang Hui continues to employ techniques such as deconstruction and reconstruction, combining layering and juxtaposition. Through transitions between the real and the illusory, he alludes to the changes in the shared conditions of viewing in this technological age. For instance, the wide-angle lens in photography provides a more three-dimensional perspective, echoing the scatter-point composition of traditional Chinese landscape scrolls. Montage made up of multiple parts, focus and defocus compositional techniques, and more are incorporated into his visual language system. In this exhibition, works like Radiance 01, Branches and Leaves 2025 04, and Branches and Leaves 2025 03 appear to represent multiple moments stacked together, much like a set of vertical triptychs. The subtle color changes in the leaves, the transitions between tree trunks, and the overlapping, entangled postures form clues for interpreting the artist's thoughts and emotions. Meanwhile, the sun suspended against the gradient-colored background at the top, the treetops seen from the horizon, and the near-ground branches create a sense of disconnection and misalignment in the viewing experience, even evoking an internal conflict. This reveals the artist's unspoken inner focus, further emphasizing that it is more important to experience the sensations conveyed by the painting through the individual’s position, perspective, and relationship in the viewing process. The withdrawal of perspective, fragmented reorganization, and the unfamiliarity within the familiar all create contrasts within the sunny, deserted urban landscape in the painting, touching upon those unspeakable experiences on a psychological level.

Artistic expression, with its unique language system, is distinct from other forms of personal expression we know, and the challenge for artists is always how to mobilize limited visual languages to depict the complexities and diversity hidden beneath fixed forms. On the surface, Zhang Hui's paintings appear "simple and bright," but the visual language system behind them is incredibly rich. It is precisely the accumulated "explanatory" wisdom over the years that allows him to express himself with ease in "limited subjects."