Listen, some memories are tiding over nihility

To see myself, to set the darkness echoing.
— Seamus Heaney

Lu Lei’s works are enamored of memories，from his early work The Dark Clouds to latest Night and Square. Lu definitely has excellent execution，delicacy in classical language—for his works, which is absolutely not common in the industry. The audience frequently pay attention to the classical spirit—the very request of “quality” represents the core standard of “classic”—revealed through the works at their first sight. In broad terms, this is also a portion of the artist’s memories. Lu’s way to deal with or get along with memories is quite thought-provoking under scrutiny

For example, Tower at the End of the World. People with insight will seamlessly think of Tatlin’s version, The Monument to the Third International, a monument of big era in human history and memories, in which concrete matters such as individual and collective, politics of family and nation are turned into art. Lu is composed to handle these “big problems”. In comparison, Crow Fountain, originates from memory as well, as if much more poetic. Or just as the artist said, it was out of control after walking to the “strange direction “.

The artist claims Crow Fountain is talking about the affection towards the garden, and this is far from the story, A Crow Drinks Water, of a generation’s memory. Isn’t it? The smart crow is thirsty and wants water, but Lu Lei has built a garden for it: a big solitary heart, instead of the never exhaustible Hippocrene for poets and artists, is served inside the opening door and under the elegant walls, in a flat and hallowed garden. The artist’s elegant nihility overtakes us here. Perhaps just like the person in Kafka’s novel Before the law, who has requested entry all his life but find nothing inside after being permitted. Everything’s just at his wits’ end.

This work clings to my mind after the sense may be forgotten, because it challenges my memory, as the artist’s contemporary, and makes me restless. Later I think about the important word “modern”, and the poetry Crow of famous Allan Poe. Once upon a midnight dreary, there came a tapping. But found in there stepped “a stately raven of the saintly days of yore”. And eventually the dream of the poet, “leave my loneliness unbroken”, was ruthlessly broken by the word “nevermore” quothed by the strange midnight guest raven. Presumably memories can’t guarantee happiness but even break the last treasure “loneliness unbroken”. Memories like sands, but who can accumulate these sands to form a pagoda of history?

For Lu Lei, the method is to “magnify the fragments of memories and then fasten them”. In order to complete fixation, artist must keep a lucid state of robust tranquility and proceed with caution. The artist “produces a memory related to matters in a hybrid way in a vast, empty space”, where contains the auditorium, the rotary sculpture appears to be ubiquitous banners, and flying bats. The artist’s “method”, to be more accurate, his “way” or “navigation”: bats are able to find their way in the dark as they can avoid obstacles. In another work, The Bats’ Conference, likewise, bats act as the leading roles, glass ears converge on the stage: wasn’t it a whole obstacle as the existence of “fragile and ignorant people”? It’s not easy for the artist to find his way: he can’t simply drive away the raven with anger, just like what the poet of Allan Poe’s writings has done. He has to watch it and then take the initiative to grasp something, at the same time he would allow something to sink into the darkness, to be seen in the future or never seen. There needs firm exercise of self-watchfulness and even more strict self-discipline on the night of nihility.

So it’s quite reasonable why there’re so many animals in Lu’s works. There are totally 7 kinds of animals in this exhibition, and they would be an important clue to understand all his works. Animals always prompt human beings of our deficiencies, unhappiness, comprehension and targets, just like the mysterious works from the Middle Ages. Perhaps Lu has noticed this according to his works. Or the divergent who is not satisfied with human beings, and who pursues surpassing improvements, from Nietzsche’s writings. In his work Square, the audience can hear the voices of pigeons, or in the nervous and empty square, but full of memories, or near the congregate loudspeakers and more ears? What is it saying? And what are the Morse codes that the artist has used more than once expressing? They are the paths in the nihility and symbols of the dawn.

Lu Lei doesn’t have a lot of works, but most of them give me a feeling of nihility. But the elegance of his work let me lost in it and put an impulse on me. “Aren’t we wandering in the unlimited nihility? Isn’t the empty vacancy around us?” Nietzsche’s words are just right. The nihilism is like haze overcasting the sky and widely accepted by people now. But who can imagine it’s loneliness at Nietzsche’s times. Nihility is doomed to be born under the heavy burden of memories and history. From Nietzsche’s perspective, the murky clouds obscure the sun, and the raven pass by, are the realities of human’s dark history. And for the “positive nihilist”, this is also an important stage humans must overcome, a revolutionary movement towards new age. In Lu’s works, we can catch its routine: nihility as the way of thinking, execution seems rebellious, endured loneliness and irresolute persistence.

I am often moved by Lu’s The Bridge in the Wind. The artist says it’s “an important expression of collective memories”. The bridge is the road, yet dangerous as if floating in the wind and don’t know its destination. It leads to the future. But nobody knows how and when. It’s different from the Tower of Babel, symbolized as a way of human’s desires, impulses and falls. From another perspective, the bridge can be a clue to transitional humans: to be a new man. The bridge, is just the work and life of the artist.