“BORED”
The End of the Universe is SOHO
宇宙的尽头是SOHO
A solo exhibition by Matti Gao | 高宏伟 个人展览
Dates: 6-12 December, 2023
Address: 13 Soho Square, London W1D 3QF
Producer: Shan Huang
Academic Advisor: Professor Ben Anderson
Guest advisor: Feng Tang 冯唐
Foreword
The End of the Universe is Creation
宇宙的尽头是创造
by Feng Tang 冯唐
因为疫情，我滞留伦敦。因为伦敦的博物馆、美术馆、图书馆、书店、一年四季适合跑步的天气和大公园，因为高宏伟，我想多多滞留在伦敦。
和New Balance合作，我在伦敦丧跑，高宏伟拍我在伦敦丧跑。拍摄间歇，我问高宏伟：“你为什么不画画了？你是美院附中上高中、保送美院上大学的科班出身啊！我这个没受过一天专业训练的门外汉还经常忍不住涂鸦呢。”
我忘了高宏伟是如何回答的，至少不是一个令人难忘的回答。
我接着问了第二个问题：“一个画家要怎样才能混出来啊？我小学的时候，家里的朱顶红花开了，我觉得很美，就对着花狂画，画完问我亲哥，好看不？画得像不？我亲哥说，好不好，像不像先放一边，你要明白，绝大多数画家是吃不饱饭的，别画了，省得你迷上。”
高宏伟的回答展现了他的专业素养，但是我还是没太听明白。我粗浅的理解是：第一要画得好，第二要命好。
那次合作之后，我俩一起喝了很多酒，看了不少画展，聊了不少艺术以及其他似乎没用的东西。高宏伟也爱上了跑步，隔三差五跑个五公里、十公里。他说，他早上睡不着，就起来跑。
三年后的一天，高宏伟喝了当晚第一口酒之后，说：“冯老师，我下月在SOHO办我第一个个人画展。此事缘起在您，不知道您还记不记得，过去三年，您问了我好几次，我为什么不画画？我苦苦思考，我想不出为什么不，于是又开始画了。”
难道是我无意中激活了另一个高更？
我不确定我做了好事还是做了坏事，是非故意帮人还是非故意害人。我确定，既然高宏伟已经动了念，就很难按耐住，那就干呗。月亮就是月亮，六便士就是六便士，本一不二。别攥着六便士想月亮、望着月亮想六便士，就好。
“我不确定我是怎么按动了按钮，我也不确定我是对是错，反正你定了要做，那就尽力做。展览很快开幕了，我这里有间房子空着，随时来画吧。”我和高宏伟说。
之后的一个月，高宏伟有空就来画，不来我这里画的时候也在别处画，他活在画里，画也活在他笔下。在这一个月里，我们一起喝了很多酒，聊了很多没用而辽阔的话题，画了很多画。伦敦到了深秋，叶落满地，那间房里也渐渐开满了大大小小的画。
“我知道我为什么不画了。”高宏伟在画画中突然停下来，说。
“为什么？”我问。
“我怕了。”
“现在为什么不怕了？”我继续问。
“我厌倦了害怕。”
高宏伟说他这次个展的主题是：无聊。
我看着满房子无中生有的画、想着我前半生的无聊，写了一首短诗：
如果你厌倦了伦敦
你就厌倦了生活
如果我厌倦了你，我就厌倦了生命
你是创造。
The End of the Universe is Creation
Feng Tang
I am stranded in London because of the epidemic. Because of London's museums, galleries, libraries, bookstores, year-round good weather for running and great parks, and because of Matti Gao, I want to be stranded in London more often.
In collaboration with New Balance to produce an advert, I had to run around in London. Matti was then the producer, both of us running crazy in London for this advert. In between shoots, I asked Matti, "Why don't you paint anymore? You went to the high school affiliated to the Central Academy of Fine Arts in China, and were guaranteed admission with no exam to attend the Central Academy of Fine Arts! I, though a layman without a single day of professional training in art, can't help but doodle a lot."
I forget how Matti answered me, at least not a memorable answer.
I went on to ask a second question, "What does a painter have to do to get recognised and successful? When I was in elementary school, my family's cinnabar flowers bloomed, and I thought they were so beautiful that I drew furiously on them, and after I finished, I asked my brother, "Does it look good? Did it look good? My brother-in-law said, "Is it good, like it or not, put it aside, you have to understand, the vast majority of painters can't get enough to eat, don't paint, so that you won't lose yourself and your sense."
Matti's answer showed his professionalism, but I still didn't quite get it. My rough understanding was: first, you have to paint very well, and second, you have to have God on your side.
After that New Balance advert, the two of us drank a lot of wine together, saw a lot of exhibitions, and talked a lot about art and other seemingly useless things. Matti also fell in love with running, running five or ten kilometers every now and then. He said that when he couldn't sleep in the morning, he got up and ran.
A random day three years later, Matti drank his first sip of wine that night and said, "Mr. Feng, I'm having my first solo exhibition in SOHO next month. I don't know if you still remember, but in the past three years, you asked me several times why I stopped painting. I thought hard, I couldn't figure out why not, so I started painting again."
Had I inadvertently reactivated another Gauguin?
I wasn't sure if I had done something good or something bad, if I had unintentionally helped or unintentionally harmed someone. I was certain that since Gauguin had moved on, it would be hard to hold back, so let's do it. The moon is the moon, sixpence is sixpence, this one is not two. Just don't clutch the sixpence and think of the moon, or look at the moon and think of the sixpence.
"I'm not sure how I pushed the button, and I'm not sure if I was right or wrong, but anyway, if you're set on doing it, then do your best. The exhibition opens soon, I've got a house with a room here that's vacant, come and paint anytime." I said to Matti.
In the following month, Matti came to paint whenever he was free, and when he didn't come to paint here, he also painted elsewhere; he lived in the paintings, and the paintings also lived in his brushstrokes. During this month, we drank a lot of wine together, talked about many useless and vast topics, and painted a lot of pictures. It was late fall in London, the leaves were falling all over the place, and that room was gradually filled with paintings, large and small.
"I know why I stopped painting." Matti suddenly stopped in the middle of a painting and said.
"Why?" I asked.
"I was afraid."
"Why aren't you afraid now?" I continued to ask.
"I'm bored of being afraid."
Matti said the theme of his solo exhibition was: Boredom.
I wrote a short poem looking at a house full of paintings created out of nothing, thinking about the boredom of the first half of my life:
If you're tired of London
You're tired of life
If I'm bored with you, I'm bored with life.
You are creation.
Introduction
- Matti Gao 高宏伟
这次展览名为”宇宙的尽头是SOHO”，主要画的是我的酒友（嗯，drink buddies).
还有一个博士导师，和一个孩子。
当我和一个酒友无聊了，要喝酒，“宇宙的尽头”是我们的暗号，就是去SOHO. 我们便像两个孩子一样欢乐的跑去SOHO喝酒了。
人为什么需要喝酒：
冯唐说，他只能喝得差不多的时候（reasonable drunk)才能写东西；他也说过，如果不和某人喝三次大酒，是不会和那个人一起工作的。
中国人的酒桌文化一定是有它存在的原因。
如果我们有太多压抑和遮掩，人里面的生命是死的；灵魂，也是软趴趴、没有创造力的。（想想很有趣，有多少流芳百世的作品是酒后创作的，有多少孩子也是情侣酒后造出来的…)
我们喝酒，是要放下防备，找到真我，像人一样，做人与人之间的交流。我们喝酒，也是希望能接近真我，和真实、真相。
画画于我，和喝酒是一样的。
这次所画的大人朋友，被画之前都有问我，他们该怎么穿、怎么坐、怎么behave；只有一个孩子，没有问我，他想怎么样，就怎么样了；我想，因为他是一直纯粹的”本我”，从没有遮掩（当然，孩子不是我的酒友）
一个博士导师，是Dr Ben Anderson，他主要研究人类的”无聊”和”希望”，是人文地理行业的顶级专家。我这次展览是一个画展，也是个持续的个人研究项目，我希望用画笔研究怎么能帮助自己和他人减少生活的无聊、增加生活的希望。
这些年，经常听到越来越多的酒友说自己感到”无聊”，我自己也一样，隧决定重拾自己的一点技能，给他们画肖像。我希望这是一个互相帮助、医治、找回那个”真我/本我”的过程；就开一两瓶酒，然后敞开心扉和灵魂的聊。我总觉得画肖像时，画家和模特变成了两面互对的镜子，互相看清，也能瞥见一些永恒的东西，比如灵魂的孤独、脆弱，比如爱、希望，还有真理和真相。
我突然明白了，为什么二战后萧条的伦敦，弗洛伊德、培根、奥尔巴赫、鲍威、金斯伯格都常聚在SOHO，我似乎看到了他们也在宇宙尽头的深夜，几个人类最伟大的思想不断碰出人情、碰出火花、温暖；碰出真理、碰触希望，很多很多希望。
或许，宇宙的尽头，真在soho 🥂
Love, again; Love, more.
(2023年11月20日，高宏伟 Matti Gao，写于 Auver-sur-Oise 法国奥维小镇)
This exhibition primarily focuses on portraits of my drinking buddies. Additionally, a doctoral mentor and a child, with whom I don’t drink.
When one of my drinking buddies and I feel bored and decide to drink, “the end of the universe” was our code, indicating a trip to Soho in London. We would then joyfully run to Soho, like two kids running to a playground after school.
Why do adults need to drink:
Feng Tang (Chinese poet, best-selling writer) says he can only write when he's reasonably drunk; he also mentioned that if he doesn't drink three “big rounds” with someone, he won't be able to decide whether he can partner with that person in business or not.
Well, Chinese drinking culture surely has its reasons for existence.
If we have too much repression and concealment, the life inside a person is lifeless, and the soul becomes limp, lacking creativity. (Interestingly, if you think about it, how many great artworks were created under the influence of alcohol, and how many children were conceived by couples after a drink...by accident? Or by our deliberate faults?)
All the adult friends I painted for this show asked me how they should dress, sit, or behave before being painted. I simply replied, “Be Yourself”. Only the child didn't ask me; he just did whatever he wanted because he is purely, constantly “himself”. (Of course, the child is not one of my drinking buddies.)
The doctoral mentor is a new friend I got to know, Dr. Ben Anderson, whose researches on "boredom" and "hope" in human geography really generated much spark to my search for the meaning of painting, in particular, portraits. So much so that I have kindly asked him to oversee and advise on my writings related to this show. He is one of the most leading voices in he field. I am truly grateful for such a recent divine encounter right before I took the courage to paint people, again.
I hope this exhibition is not only a solo show, but also a start of an ongoing personal research project. I hope to pick up my paint brushes again to study how to help myself, and my sitters, to reduce life's boredom, and increases life’s hope.
We drink, to let go of defenses, to rediscover the true self, to be more human, and able to engage in more sincere, authentic communication with others. We also drink in the hope of getting closer to our true self, and to the truth our souls constant long for.
Painting, for me, is similar to drinking.
Hearing more and more of my drinking buddies told me they feel "bored," I surely feel equally so if not more. So, I decided to revive a bit of my old skills and started painting portraits for them. So my other hope is that “painting a portrait” would be a process of mutual help, healing, and rediscovery of the "true self."
During the painting process, we would open a bottle or two, then open up our hearts and souls to chat (well, the child only indulged in his reading and completely ignored me…).
I always feel that when painting portraits, the artist and the model become two mirrors facing each other, slowly peeling through and seeing each other more clearly, even catching a glimpse of something eternal, such as the loneliness and vulnerability of the soul, and a deep longing for love, hope, and truth.
Suddenly, I understand why Freud, Bacon, Auerbach, Bowie, Ginsberg, and many creative minds gathered in Soho in post-war London. I seem to be able to see them pushing limits at the end of the universe in Soho's late nights, where some of the greatest thoughts collided, sparking genuine human affection, fire, warmth, truth, and of course, hope. A lot of hope…
Perhaps, the end of the universe is truly in Soho.
At the very end (of our own universe and our collective one), we will all face two gates: The gate of eternal love, and the gate of eternal boredom. Is the choice ours? I believe so. Deeply, believe so.
Love, again. Love, more.
(Matti Gao, 20 November, 2023. Auver-sur-Oise, France)
Foreword
Boredom and hope and love and ...
by Professor Ben Anderson
Boredom teaches us that something is missing. When boredom settles, as time stills and space slows and the present endlessly elongates, we feel an absence. What might be absent from a life is an open question that boredom invites us to wonder about: possibility; a sense of aliveness; the type of connection and affection we give the name ‘interest’ to; the sense that something matters to ourselves and others; joy; intensity; or something else entirely.
Seemingly trivial and remarkably commonplace, boredom is still just a little mysterious, as long as we give it time. We may be unsure about what is missing, especially if boredom is felt as shared atmosphere we dwell within, rather than a situational response to something specific that bores us. If we are able, we often exit our boredom quickly. Only some people welcome it as temporary respite from a world felt as too much, too demanding. Many fear boredom, and, especially, being boring. But perhaps to stay with boredom’s mysteries we should pause our attempts to escape and end boredom and instead listen to our different boredoms, even if what they might tell us is rarely transparent to ourselves or others.
We try and end boredom, but boredom is itself an ending. What ends when boredom settles, and the future appears to have been supplanted by an endless, unwelcome stalled present, is the promise of that which bores. When bored, that which bores is greeted with little more than disaffected indifference, and perhaps mild irritation or frustration. Our boredoms empty the world of promise, of the enlivening sense that another might interest us, a place may provide us with enough to anchor us, a life might fulfil us, a play or song or painting might catalyse a new feeling. To be bored is to begin to detach, it is to turn away and reduce that which bores to nothing much at all.
Perhaps hope in the opposite of boredom? If boredom closes the future, intensifying the feeling of an endlessly elongated present where value and meaning feels absent, hope brings a better future into the present. Ordinary and extraordinary futures are made present in the act of hoping. The enlivening spark of hope creates a minor break with the here and now, there is a rupture and the possibility of something new opens up, even if only momentarily. But there is a hope in boredom, albeit a minimal one. In detaching from and ending the promise of something, boredom begins a new beginning.
Perhaps love is the opposite of boredom? To the indifference and reduction of boredom, love attends to the often disturbing and hopefully animating singularity of the other. If boredom drains that which bores of promise, the promise of love is that the qualities of the other are distinctive, and that in proximity to them we might be undone and change, in just the right way. Nothing seems to matter in boredom, everything can seem to matter too much in love.
Or, maybe, portraiture is the opposite of boredom? In its attention to the singularity of a subject, portraiture expresses a kind of love. It finds in a specific subject - their gestures, the lines on a face, the curve of a smile, or a way of sitting - qualities that are both irreducibly of the person portrayed, and exceed and constitute them and their life. There is nothing indifferent in portraits, especially when gathered together in an exhibition that invites us to wonder about boredom.
Prof. Ben Anderson, Durham University
无聊、希望、爱和其他
百无聊赖的状态点醒我们真的缺失的东西。当无聊沉淀下来，当时间静止，空间放慢，当下被无休止地拉长，我们会感到一种“缺失”。生活中缺失的是什么，是一个开放性的问题，无聊让我们去思考：可能性；活力感；以及我们称之为 "兴趣 "的那种联系和感情；对自己和他人都很重要的感觉；快乐；强度；或者完全是其他的东西。
无聊看似琐碎，实则司空见惯，只要我们给它一点时间，它就会变得神秘莫测。我们可能不确定缺少了什么，特别是如果无聊是我们所处的共同氛围，而不是对令我们厌烦的具体事物的情景反应。如果我们有能力，我们通常会很快摆脱无聊。只有一些人会把无聊当作暂时的喘息机会，而不是觉得这个世界太多、太苛刻。许多人害怕无聊，尤其是害怕自己成无聊的人。但是，也许为了与无聊的奥秘相伴，我们应该暂停逃避和结束无聊的尝试，转而倾听我们不同的无聊，即使它们可能告诉我们的东西很少对我们自己或他人是透明的。
我们试图结束无聊，但无聊本身就是一种结束。当无聊尘埃落定，未来似乎被无尽的、不受欢迎的停滞不前的现在所取代时，结束的是无聊的承诺。无聊时，人们对无聊事物的反应不过是不以为然的冷漠，或许还有轻微的恼怒或沮丧。我们的无聊掏空了我们对世界的希望，掏空了我们对另一个世界可能会感兴趣、一个地方可能会为我们提供足够的依托、一种生活可能会让我们满足、一出戏、一首歌或一幅画可能会催生一种新的感觉的活跃感。厌倦就是开始脱离，就是转过身去，把那些令人厌倦的东西化为乌有。
也许无聊的背面是希望？如果说无聊封闭了未来，加剧了无尽拉长的当下的感觉，使人感到价值和意义的缺失，那么希望则将更美好的未来带入当下。平凡和非凡的未来在希望的行动中呈现。充满活力的希望火花与此时此地的生活产生了微小的断裂，出现了新事物的可能性，哪怕只是一瞬间。但无聊中也蕴含着希望，尽管是微乎其微的希望。在脱离和结束对某些事物的承诺时，无聊开始了一个新的开始。
也许爱才是无聊的反面？无视无聊和或者减少无聊，爱给予人那种令人不安但又充满希望的个人特性。如果说无聊使人失去希望，那么爱让人有所盼望，看到他人的特质是与众不同的，在接近这些特质的过程中，我们可能会以恰当的方式得到解脱和改变。无聊时似乎什么都不重要，而在爱情中，一切似乎都太重要了。
或许，肖像画正是无聊的反面？肖像画关注对象的独特性，表达了一种爱。肖像画从一个特定的对象身上发现--他们的姿态、脸上的线条、微笑的弧度或坐姿--这些特质既是被描绘者不可或缺的，又超越并构成了他们和他们的生活。肖像画中没有什么是无动于衷的，尤其是当这些肖像画汇集在一个展览中时，让我们尽情享受畅游在无聊中的喜悦。
本-安德森教授，达勒姆大学
Matti Gao 高宏伟
艺术家介绍
高宏伟（Matti Gao），出生于1989年的中国，现居伦敦。毕业于中央美术学院（CAFA）和中央美术学院附中（2004-2013）。
Matti的作品是对人际关系敏锐观察的见证。他习惯于在社交聚会中直接创作艺术品，尤其是在餐桌和派对上。这种刻意的方式使他能够捕捉到被描绘对象的灵魂，以及每个事件或环境的独特生存状态。
高宏伟 Matti Gao, born in 1989 in Harbin and currently residing in London, an alumnus of the Central Academy of Fine Arts (CAFA) and the High School affiliated with CAFA in Beijing, where he pursued Fine Art and Interactive Media from 2004 to 2013.
Gao's practice is a testament to his keen observations of human connections. His common approach involves creating art directly amidst social gatherings, notably during meals and parties. This intentional engagement allows him to capture the essence of his subjects' souls, in his words, as well as the distinctive spirit of each event or circumstance.
About Feng Tang 冯唐:
Feng Tang, poet, writer, and lover of antique artifacts. He received his Ph.D. in Clinical Medicine from the Union Medical College in 1998, and his MBA from Emory University in 2000. He was a global managing partner of McKinsey & Company, the founding CEO of China Resources Medical Group, and a senior managing director of CITIC Capital. Amateur writing. Feng Tang’s representative works include many best selling full-length novels, he has also organised more than ten art shows featuring his drawings and calligraphy work. 2020, Feng Tang was invited by Mont Blanc, to launch the world's first official Chinese typeface, "Mont Blanc Chinese Feng Tang”.
About Professor Ben Anderson:
Professor Ben Anderson’s main area of research concerns the politics of affect in relation to a range of contemporary conditions, principally the emergence of various populisms in the midst of intensifying precarity. Currently, this involves a new project on boredom in relation to contemporary capitalism. He is fascinated by the question of how, if at all, boredom has changed since the second half of the twentieth century, and how staying with boredom might allow us to think differently about the affective lives of neoliberalism. For the last three years, He has taught a third year module – Neoliberal Life – which explores how neoliberalisms are lived through boredom and outrage, disaffection and change, and hopes and optimism amongst other affects.