About
Xin Zhang: Review by Anthony Fawcett
"What is this face, less clear and clearer-the pulse in the arm, less strong and stronger-Given or lent? More distant than stars and nearer than the eye..." T.S. Eliot (from 'Marina").
In Xin Zhang's series of paintings entitled "The Art of Humanity," the central motif is an angelic, pious but beautifully serene face, often with eyes closed, looking downward, perhaps in prayer or in a state of ecstasy? The faces appear slightly lost in limbo but framed by lush swirling abstract swathes of soft pastel colors. A golden white halo around the head also adds to the saintly, ecclesiastical mood.
Xin Zhang hails from Beijing where she had several careers-both as a fiction writer and a scriptwriter-before embarking on her journey as a 'self-taught' artist nine years ago. As a devout Christian, a major influence on her oeuvre was a journey through Italy, visiting all the famous towns and cities, no doubt relishing the early work of Cimabue and Giotto and the myriad other treasures to be found in the ancient churches and cathedrals.
Her faith is her motivation, Xin Zhang has stated, adding: "I place my characters in abstract and postmodern situations, whilst simultaneously emphasizing the light of humanity." A natural colorist, her canvases are full of translucent shapes and swirls, mixing her oil paints with great aplomb.
In Xin Zhang's painting "Waiting For The Bus," she combines a vivid, startling green line which shoots down the length of the canvas to great effect, setting off the softer shapes and colors behind. In "Couple," two faces appear disjointed, with just the bare outline conveying a strange almost negative space. This was a technique much loved by Francis Bacon in his eerie portraits of the Italian Popes.
I think these series of paintings truly reflect the spiritual landscape of Xin Zhang's life, and she is now deservedly exhibiting her work in both Italy and France, and further afield.
I will end with a few lines from Rilke:
"I have hymns you haven't heard. There is an upward soaring in which I bend close.
You can barely distinguish me from the things that kneel before me."
(From Rainer Maria Rilke's "Book of Hours, Love Poems to God").
-Anthony Fawcett