Yue Minjun (岳敏君) is one of China’s most recognizable artists, but what's the history behind his art?
Here's the larger context:
The death of Chairman Mao Zedong and the end of the sociopolitical movement called the Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution in 1976 commenced the beginning of the modernization of Chinese art. Previously, under Chairman Mao’s leadership, Chinese artists were forced to adopt a “mass style” of socialist realism, consisting of bright, dynamic posters that were flooded with slogans and glorified images of Mao and the proletariat. Under Mao’s successor, Deng Xiaoping, China loosened its rigid policies and focused on reform and modernization. What this meant for artists was a more encouraging attitude towards creative expression and intellectual activity.
The modernization of Chinese art post-Mao can be split into two periods: the “New Era” and the “Post-New Era”.
The “New Era” is characterized by the reemergence of self and personal identity, fostering the emergence of avant-garde Chinese art that countered the formulaic socialist realism. Popular artists from this era include Luo Zhongli (罗中立) and Xu Bing (徐冰).
The age of daring experimentation and critique of Chinese culture, history, and politics through art died alongside the students in Tiananmen in 1989, and the urgent idealism visible in art from the “New Era” disappeared.
Art from the period that followed, the “Post-New Era”, instead expressed a sense of fear, anxiety, and hopelessness as artists tried to respond to the new bloodshed sprouting from the Chinese government. The atrocities from the Tiananmen Massacre in 1989 signified to the public that the liberation of the Chinese economy did not correspond with the liberation of the Chinese people.
Yue Minjun, born in 1962, was among the artists of the “Post-New Era”. Categorized as cynic realism, Yue Minjun’s most popular paintings consist of repetitive figures with bubblegum pink skin sporting wide grins.
From afar, his art can be seen as jubilant, light-hearted, and playful; however, looking more closely, something feels off. Their smiles seem almost too wide, becoming more deranged than joyful. It feels as though they’re grimacing in pain. Upon even further inspection, these figures look like Yue himself, indicating that these are self-portraits. The repetition of these figures’ maniacal grins symbolizes something disturbing going on not just on an individual scale but on a collective, national scale.
Beyond oil paintings, Yue is also known for his large-scale sculptures, which can be found all over the world, from Vancouver to London. His work, whether seen as humorous or cynical, encapsulates the emotions and turmoil of modern society.