Lulu Zeng’s paintings reflect her identity as a Chinese immigrant to Aotearoa and the cultural exchange in language. Studying classical Chinese and Western imagist poetries, Zeng attunes herself to her abstract emotional responses to the poems. Ahead of her exhibition A Conversation in Between she responded to questions posed by City Art Reader Editor Cameron Ralston. A Conversation in Between opens 5.30pm on Tuesday the 18th of June at City Art Depot and runs through to the 8th of July 2024.
L’Art Reflection I, Lulu Zeng, acrylic on stretched canvas, 1205x895mm, 2024
Cameron Ralston: How does your cultural identity inform your painting practice?
Lulu Zeng: I often see a painting as an extension of the painter. It naturally reflects who we are. There’s always something unique about it because we all come from different places and perceive things in our own way. I’m originally from China but now based in New Zealand and my cultural background has indeed influenced my painting practice. To me, being part of these cultures just feels like standing at the confluence of the distinct traditions and this intersection is where my paintings come to life.
The groups of paintings in this exhibition are direct manifestations of the cultural interplay, serving as conversations between the old and new, the East and the West. I quite enjoy mixing ideas and techniques from traditional Chinese art with the Imagists’ approach to paintings. And I draw on traditional Chinese painting, poetry, and nature, which are key elements of my heritage. Even though I live in New Zealand now, my practice is a way for me to stay connected to my origins and share my culture and a sense of self with others.
You have three distinct painting groups in this exhibition in form and colour, do they come from different source points or represent different things?
Yes, they do. The groups of paintings are based on classical Chinese and Imagist poetry. By exhibiting them together, I intend to create a dialogue about the exchange and interplay between different cultural and poetic traditions. Autumn Eve (I & II) is inspired by a Tang Dynasty poem. In these paintings, I combine Chinese ink painting techniques with the abstract written form of Chinese ideograms. They also refer to stele calligraphy, which has a long history dating back to ancient times in China. This group of paintings is where I aim to reflect my Chinese heritage through colour and written elements.
The L’Art Reflection (I & II) series, draws on the influences of Western poets and painters. They are based on one of Ezra Pound’s Imagist poems, which has significantly influenced my approach to painting. I find that Pound’s poem L’Art shares similarities to the creation of Abstract expressionist painting. The gestural brushwork in my paintings resonates with the works of abstract expressionist painters like Joan Mitchell and Cy Twombly, who also find inspiration in poetry. I paint in a simple and expressive way which is similar to how Imagist poets write: employing succinct and precise language to evoke vivid imagery. L’Art Reflection is my spontaneous response to Pound’s poem, and through the paintings, I attempt to convey a sense of immediacy – as if the poem is coming to life right in front of you.
Echoes to the River draws its inspiration from a classical Chinese poem that Ezra Pound brought to Western readers in his collection Cathay. Since I grew up by that river depicted in the poem, it holds special meaning for me. In this painting, I combined Pound’s translation with my own interpretation of the poem, striving to capture what has been lost and found in the poetry translation.
Echoes to the River, Lulu Zeng, acrylic and charcoal on stretched canvas, 1300x1605mm, 2024
The brushwork in the pieces looks very spontaneous and rapid. Where does the impulse or drive for the brushstroke come from?
The impulse comes from the emotions and imagery evoked by the poem. Ezra Pound’s verses, in particular, I always feel a dynamic energy that compels me to translate his words into paintings. I also get similar feelings when reading some of Hilda Doolittle’s poems. It feels like a sudden contraction, urging me to release it with brush and paint onto the canvas. I think this influence of Imagist poetry is prominently captured in my painting series L’Art Reflection, where I attempt to convey the essence of Pound’s poetry through the colours and brushstrokes. And sometimes, a cup of wine or two enhances my impulse to paint as well.
Is your brushwork related to Chinese calligraphy?
Yes, it is. I get inspired by its techniques and emotional expressiveness to make paintings that reflect the vibe and meanings of the poems. It’s pretty much like writing while painting, with brushstrokes that echo the rapid and flowing movements characteristic of Chinese cursive script, endowing my paintings with their spontaneous and expressive qualities. While I paint, I reflect on the poem in both English and Chinese. My aim is to convey my own response to the verse through the use of brushstrokes. So, the act of painting here becomes a form of translation, where personal feelings and word meanings are interpreted onto the canvas. This is like a Chinese calligrapher who would infuse each character with its meaning when writing a poem, I paint with the same intention.
My brushstrokes are guided by the words of the poem, seeking to capture their essence just as calligraphers do on paper. Body and mind become one in this creation process. For me, calligraphy is more than just beautiful handwriting, it is more about individual expression and it reflects one’s inner self too. You may also find aggressive qualities in my brushwork; that is where they relate to the writing techniques and style of Chinese characters. Speed, rhythm and intensity of paint all contribute to this effect.
How does the analysis of the way poetry is translated affect the way you paint or approach the poem? You mention something is lost – what is that?
When I translate the poem, I often find there’s something that cannot be fully captured in another language, such as its original rhythm, cultural nuances and subtle arrangements of words. A Chinese poem, for example, might use imagery and sounds that evoke specific feelings and cultural context that cannot be equivalently translated into English. This is what I was referring to when I mentioned things lost in poetry translation. Similar to what Ezra Pound discusses about Phanopoeia (the casting of images upon the visual imagination) and Logopoeia (the dance of the intellect among words) in poetry translation – the former can be translated almost or wholly intact, whereas Logopoeia involves the intellectual use of words, exploring meanings and cultural references to engage the readers on a deeper level. It focuses on the deliberate and thoughtful use of language. The translator’s cultural background would affect the interpretation and translation of Logopoeic elements in poetry. For someone like me, living between two cultures, translating poetry is both a culture exchange and a conversation between my past and my present selves. Not only that, it also creates a dialogue for audiences with Western cultural backgrounds, inviting them to discover the nuances that lie between these two poetic traditions.
In my paintings, I try to capture both what is lost and what is gained in the translation process. Despite the linguistic changes, I focus on expressing the emotional essence and the fundamental ideas that persist in the poem’s original language. Like what I did in the painting Echoes to the River, I would read the poems in English and Chinese, subsequently paint the brushstrokes that echo the original rhythms that reside in the Chinese poem and seek to compensate for the loss that occurs in the English translation process. If the English translation brings out a new layer of meaning like a universal sense of longing or melancholy, I might use colours to highlight that aspect. By doing that, I wanted to make a connection between these two different languages, presenting a visual interpretation that informs both the original and translated versions of the poem.
L’Art Reflection II, Lulu Zeng, acrylic on stretched canvas, 1205x895mm, 2024
In what ways do you connect with the natural themes of the poems you draw inspiration from? What is the source for the pictorial world evoked in you by the poems? Is it a real-world image/experience or something more abstract?
I usually go for a walk, take photos and make sketches in a particular place where I can find things that remind me of the poems but I don’t really do this with any particular purpose in mind beforehand. I would say it is quite improvisational. Some of the places hold memories of my childhood, like the river I mentioned earlier, so when I went for a walk, I would get special feelings for it. Anyway, I think it’s always good to immerse ourselves in nature if we try to capture its essence as it is very much related to our sensory experience of the natural surroundings. I also draw inspiration from my everyday life, like I was having strawberries and crushed some of them onto my shirt while I was painting L’Art Reflection as I needed a real-world tactile experience to capture the essence of the poem.
Ezra Pound as an Imagist poet said that there must be a direct treatment of the thing in the poem. Is that something you bring to your work? How do the ideas of Imagist poetry relate to your paintings?
Yes, I definitely bring that “direct treatment of the thing” to my paintings, much like Ezra Pound’s approach to Imagist poetry. The process of making my paintings involves eliminating superfluous elements. Although I initially considered adding more visual elements to my work and experimented with different approaches, it wasn’t quite what I was looking for. Eventually, I just ended up with a focus on the colour and gestural mark-making in my work, aiming to convey a sense of immediacy and performance. I paint intuitively in response to the poem. This is kind of like following the rules of Imagist poetry but with paint instead of words. As Ezra Pound emphasizes “the image is more than just an idea; it is a vortex endowed with energy; the work of poetry is the thing that will out.”. I find his words inspiring and engaging, as they stimulate my impulse to paint the image evoked by the poem, in this case, subjectively, and to bring ‘the thing’ out through my self-expression.
Autumn Eve II, Lulu Zeng, acrylic, ink and oil stick on stretched canvas, 1040x800mm, 2024
What is the meaning behind the different colours you’ve used?
The different colours I’ve used in my paintings are intended to convey the emotions and imagery suggested by the poems. In L’Art Reflection, the palette of red, pink and green is used to reflect the vibrant energy of the poem, while the monochromatic grey and blue background employed in the Autumn Eve tries to capture the mood depicted in the Chinese poem I was working on. Like what we often see in traditional Chinese ink paintings, most use black ink with different shades of gray while some others also use blue and green, blue and red, with white and yellow. Particularly in Chinese landscape paintings, we could notice the colour combinations and various arrangements of poems inscribed within the composition. And the colours in Echoes to the River like the grey background and black inky gestural brushstrokes with touches of blue, green, yellow and white are associated with the colours used in traditional Chinese paintings. So, it in a way reflects my personal experiences and cultural heritage too.
Your works have an impressive physicality to them where you visually capture the moment of mark making – splashing paint, brush lines and even your own hands appearing in some pieces. How much are you guided by, responding to, the material elements of your painting – the paint, ink, brush, canvas?
The physicality in my work is quite a big part of what I do. I would let the materials guide me. It is an unpredictable and exciting journey for me. I very much enjoy working with the nature of the paint like its fluidity. It is great to see how it can create these unintentional marks like the dribbles and little scattered dots on the picture plane. When I am painting, I always respond to how the paint works on the canvas. The way the brush moves, how the ink spreads and even how my hands interact with the paint – it all plays a role. Sometimes, those unexpected moments, like a splash of paint would end up being the most interesting part of the piece. So, I guess you could say I am always in a kind of conversation with the materials. I let them guide my way and that spontaneity is what makes the process vivid and exciting.
秋夕
唐·杜牧
银烛秋光冷画屏,
轻罗小扇扑流萤。
天阶夜色凉如水,
坐看牵牛织女星。
Autumn Eve
By Du Mu
The silver candle illuminates the chilly painted panel screen,
Her silk fan delicately swats away the fireflies.
As the sky takes on the colour of night, it becomes as cold as water,
She sits and gazes at the stars of the Cowherd and the Weaving Maid.
黄鹤楼送孟浩然之广陵
唐·李白
故人西辞黄鹤楼,
烟花三月下扬州。
孤帆远影碧空尽,
唯见长江天际流。
Separation on the River Kiang
By Li Po
Translated by Ezra Pound 1915
Ko-Jin goes west from Ko-kaku-ro,
The smoke-flowers are blurred over the river.
His lone sail blots the far sky.
And now I see only the river,
The long Kiang, reaching heaven.
L’Art
By Ezra Pound
Green arsenic smeared on an egg-white cloth,
Crushed strawberries! Come, let us feast our eyes.