Wu Dayu

executed circa 1960

Artist's Family

Ten Letters by Wu Dayu, Beijing Fujen Academy, Beijing, 2015, p. 12
Works of Wu Dayu, People’s Fine Arts Publishing House, Beijing, 2015, p. 162

This work is overall in very good condition. There is no sign of restoration under UV examination.
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The Virtue of a Learned Scholar,  the Broad Mind of an Ascetic

Wu Dayu’s Untitled 115

Wu Dayu left the vast majority of his abstract paintings untitled, but the outside world has become accustomed to sorting them, based on their figurative elements, into categories such as huayun ("rhyme of flowers"), jingyun ("rhyme of Beijing Opera"), and puyun ("rhyme of music"). Of these categories, huayun could be considered the earliest of the artist’s affinities. Ever since he began the study of painting around the age of seven or eight, flowers and plants were one of Wu's favourite subjects. From traditional Chinese painting to oil painting from figurative painting to abstract painting, this subject provided a wellspring of inspiration that the painter returned to time and time again. Untitled 115 (Lot 1009) is a representative work from Wu's huayun series. The figurative elements of this painting stand out. The painting seems to portray one corner of a room; the background is a window, and a vase of luxuriant orange flowers is perched on the sill. The tableau is primarily composed of gentle hues of blue, pink, and orange that yield a sense of flourishing vitality. The four blooming flower buds in the upper portion of the canvas, bright and beautiful as a burning flame, are the focal point of the painting. One abstract element of the painting is the meticulous flattening of depth. The foreground and background blend into a single plane that catches the eye with a riotous profusion of colour reminiscent of the best Fauvist works. Wu used ganbi (dry brush) technique to create a bold outline that harkens to the traditions of Chinese calligraphy.

Abandoning Form and Seizing Rhythm: The Tradition of the “Rhyme of Flowers” and Virtuous Sentiment

Wu Dayu enjoyed painting flowers. He once said,

“To me, there is a variegated profusion to flowers…They can serve as the benevolent and all-knowing will of the heavens, the ever-content human spirit. They are the hero sacrificed in honor, appearing here in great splendor; the compassion of the Holy Mother, existing beyond time; the beauty of the country’s landscape, symbolizing the national spirit; the fragrant purity of the heart embodied by the virtuous and honorable scholar; the flourishing of the Spring and the folding in of autumn. These ideas, once rendered upon the canvas, elevate the flowers into the realm of the human spirit, transcending, fluttering beyond the bounds of the canvas into the vastness of the universe, bestowing kindred spirits with karmic song. While the blind will not see, those who do will come of their own accord.”

Since the Warring States period, there has been a tradition of portraying the virtues of man through flowers, with specific flowers assigned certain symbolic meanings. As a contemporary artist, Wu Dayu has appeared to merge the cultures of the East and West, while at the same time extending the lineage and developing the tradition of flower symbolism. If “the hero sacrificed in honor” is the Shu emperor’s Indian azalea, if the “symbol of the national spirit” is Qu Yuan of Chu’s orchid, and the “virtuous, honorable scholar” is Jin dynasty writer and poet Tao Yuanming’s yellow chrysanthemum, then the “benevolent and all-knowing will of the heavens” must be the Buddhist lotus, and the “compassion of the Holy Mother” must be the Holy Rosary of the Christian tradition. Wu emphasizes that the form of the flower, imbued with the vitality of the human spirit, once again manifests the notion of “object and self as one” that appears in Chinese philosophy. In the 1940s, Wu engaged in discussions with Zao Wou-Ki and Lalan regarding the idea of removing form from formal art, and here, that concept is fully manifested.

Since his early days of figurative painting, Wu frequently chose flora to be the subject of his works. By the time the artist had transitioned to an abstract style, his paintings heavily tinctured with subjectivity, flowers were only more central to the expression of the artist’s emotions. Often using flowers to convey the particular beauty of abstractionism, Wu believed that flowers possessed beauty beyond their physicality, beyond their lines, their colors, or even their fragrance. They were symbolic of a flourishing vitality, rich with the virtues of the ideal human. As he once said, “Art is not simply a matter of technique. It must arise from virtue in order for spiritual enlightenment to be attained.” With this pursuit of virtuous perfection driving his creations, Wu embodied an attitude toward the world similar to the Confucian idea of “Ritual Music Enlightenment”, and chimes with the call to “replace religion with aesthetics” proposed by Cai Yuanpei in 1917, which effected an evolution in the public’s attitude toward education. Here, one can detect Wu’s dedication to conveying the richness of Confucian thought by conjuring the inner substance of abstract painting. 

The Gentle Hues of Ganbi: The Essence of Calligraphic Painting and Unfettered Daoist Sentiment

In Untitled 115, the rich profusion of its partially figurative composition reveals, subtly, a warm brilliance, silently imbuing people and objects with life’s nourishment and joy. Color is applied using the ganbi technique, the brush relatively dry in its application of color, such that in its wielding, a calligraphic feibai or “flying white” effect is achieved, preserving the force of strength and speed during the process of creation. In the application of color, the flowers, their stems and leaves, as well as the pot, have been rendered with dense, bold color, while the background is subdued. The flutter of the powdery light blocks of color, created with the “flying white” effect, reveal a foundational color of white, which leads to a visual effect of light penetrating from the outside inward, lighting the canvas with the exuberance of Spring. The masterful ingenuity of Untitled 115 is not only in its rendering of color, however, but also in its control of the painting’s sense of airiness. This idea of airiness in Chinese calligraphy is conveyed by the phrase, “Sparse enough to allow a horse, dense enough to block the wind.” What it refers to, in essence, is an artist’s dynamic ability to control the rhythm of the painting, whether it be loose or tight, light or heavy. In this way, Wu Dayu resists the tradition of heaviness and density in oil painting and instead adheres to the clever dynamism of the classical aesthetic features of space, looseness, penetration, and liveliness.

The concept of ganbidanmo (“dry brush, light ink”) first originated from the Yuan dynasty painter Ni Zan. It was then carried on and further developed by late-Ming dynasty painter Dong Qichang. Qing dynasty painter Hong Ren, who was considered a member among the three eminent groups of the “Four Masters”, the “Four Small Masters”, and the “Four Monks”, was later also a prolific user of the ganbidanmo technique. This tradition is now being continued, in modern day, by those who consider themselves orthodox Nan School adherents, which includes the artist Wu Hufan. Many contemporary Chinese masters are following in the style of Ni Zan, who evoked the complex through the simple, the multitudes through the few, who aimed for “relaxed, cursive strokes, without being constrained by attempting physical likeness”, and “the casual expression of inner, uninhibited thoughts.” This technique thus arrives at the same philosophical core as that of contemporary abstract painting. Artist Ni Zan lived a solitary life, finding intimacy with Daoism, his ganbidanmo technique echoing his free and unfettered temperament. Wu Dayu has similarly conducted a private, scrupulous life. Often looking to the poet Tao Yuanming as a model, this attitude reveals itself in Wu’s writings. In Untitled 115, the use of ganbidancai is thus not merely a technical experiment in painting, but a confession of an inner sentiment. Speaking of Tao Yuanming’s poems, the Northern Song writer and calligrapher Su Dongpo once said that they were “simple yet substantial, pure in beauty, yet richly abundant.” This description can be used to describe Wu Dayu’s Untitled 115, its still elegance highlighting the artist’s spiritual equanimity and contentment, the confident and assured lines, each stroke with distinct start and finish, free of lagging and ambiguity, fully express the artist’s clarity and confidence in his creativity and thought. 

After leaving the National Hangzhou School of Art, Wu Dayu lived in a state of reclusion. In these years, he often compared himself to Tao Yuanming (365-427), a hermetic scholar of the Eastern Jin Dynasty. In I Am No Match for Yuanming, the artist opens up about his true feelings. By comparing himself to Tao Yuanming, he admits his feelings of indignation and frustrated talent.

I Am No Match for Yuanming

I am no match for Yuanming, which is not to say that I have no land to till;

I am no match for Yuanming, which is not to say I cannot handle hardship.

I am no match for Yuanming, which is to say I lack his perspective;

I am no match for Yuanming, which is to say I have foresight, but it is useless;

I am no match for Yuanming, which is to say I was not born prior to Yuanming,

Although I retain a profound attachment to Yuanming, I cannot reveal it to the world of men.

I am no match for Yuanming, but I am implicated with Yuanming.