Man Fung-yi’s Sculptures: The Balance of Strength and Tenderness
Text: Jeff Leung—Weaving Intimacy: Body Lines by MAN Fung-yi Sept 2009
Ever since I have known Man Fung-yi, she has often commented how the local art is dominated by men. She once said, “I have always sculpture as a man’s art, a competition of physical strength.” Whether female artists may or may not constitute an integral part of contemporary sculpture practice, it is a recognisable fact that the current Chinese art scene and Western art world before 1950s are “dominated by men”. How does the independent and self-supporting woman manifest in her work? Why did she choose metal as her medium? Having a sculptor husband, Mok Yat-san, brings about certain conveniences, but I believe she is motivated by a desire to eliminate the gender boundaries still perceptible in the field of sculpture. “Later I realised I can explore light-weight sculptures, evade the sense of ‘heavy weight’, and still do what I want to do in my work,” she said. Technological advance offered lighter and softer alternatives for female artists. Western female sculptors such as Eva Hesse and Kiki Smith worked with latex and wax, supple and malleable materials that responded to feminine sensibilities and perspectives. Contrary to these two female artists, Man employs the “masculine” brass and stainless steel to create very feminine forms, such as the Chinese traditional dress Qi-Pao. The union of this subject matter and material, the marriage of drapery and metal, makes the work an epitome of a Chinese concept: the balance of outward tenderness and inner strength. Man is the manifestation of the contemporary woman’s confidence and independence.
I always see Man Fung-yi as a tall and slim woman with long hair, who is neither strong nor soft, but both. Her confident and individual attitude can be discerned from her earlier paintings Launder One’s Ego (1999-2001) and In Between Nothingness and Non Nothingness (1999). She developed her visual language whilst reflecting on “being” and exploring new paths for abstract painting. The pale yellow and creams on a large, unstretched canvas lend the painting the look of a repeatedly laundered piece of fabric. She has also rolled up small pieces of cloth, rolled discarded thread-ends into balls, and displayed them with impeccable order. Rather than sewing or embroidery they recall the process of clothes-washing, which is a much more strenuous task and testify to the inherent physical strength a woman naturally possesses.
“In 2001, whilst I was pregnant, I tried to burn little holes on silk using a stick of incense, making neat rows of concentric circles. The process was like a woman of the past pulling needle and thread, doing embroidery. It requires full concentration and it is nothing but repetitive. In order to make perfect circles, the artist must be completely calm and still, her mind rid of all thoughts. With the rising smoke of the incense, I felt I had entered a deep state of meditation, and I completed the work without a single stir in my mind or heart. In 2005 I took this practice onto brass, and created the three-dimensional series To Cuddle or Not to Cuddle, which is a reflection on the holding on and letting go of love.” The work Simulation of an Ancient Lady by Painting (2001) involves a repetitive process that reminds one of knitting, and the small punctures make a pattern that gives the whole work the look of a piece of textile. The holes that resemble astrological patterns are not only part of the artist’s stylistic output but also the recording process of her work and her signature trait. As for the clothing sculptures, she says, “These are all clothes my husband, my son and I have worn. I will first wash the chosen garment, and whilst it is being hung-dry, I will catch the moment where its form or its composition of folds is how I like it best, and solidify it with chemicals. Then I will draw lines according to its folds and patterns. Finally my assistant will solder metal threads along the lines to create the knitted effect. It is inevitable that the original garment be burnt during the process, so each piece of clothing can only make one work… In 2007 I exhibited those sculptures in an exhibition at Fo Tan. The response was great, and a lot of people thought it has a sense of Chinese-ness.” Since then she is ever more confident about her way of work.
Like photographs, used clothes are recorded evidence of the different stages of our lives. The smell and touch of clothes are keys that can unlock personal memories, and the privacy and intimacy of the meaning are rarely comprehensible to others. Clothes record and carry history of a person at certain time and place. Man’s metallic “second skins” solidify these memories in the durable strength of metal, in order to protect and immortalise the intimate and valuable memories.
Jeff Leung
Curator of various exhibitions in art spaces, galleries and bookstores since 2006. Besides he often contributes writings about Hong Kong visual art in Wenwei Po and the Hong Kong Visual Arts Yearbook (2007, 2008).
