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Hi Art, April Issue, 2011
Zhu Wei
An Angry Youth, Director and Columnist Who Paints Ink and Wash
Writer/An Xixiang Photographer/Mei Yuangui Pictures by courtesy of Zhu Wei
Turning on his computer that day, Zhu Wei originally wanted to find some pictures of his works. However, suddenly he changed his mind and opened another folder, “Well, let’s enjoy this at first.” It was an MV named “Blooming”, which was from the painful band “Faith” and not fully edited yet. With a silver-gray tone and without any background, the video only showed singing members of the band. The picture had been carefully processed, and the misty scene gave some trace of Richter’s works. “I’m its creator, how do you like it?” I felt his pride from the voice, although he was wearing an indifferent face. After the video was over, he showed me another supplement, from which I saw a Zhu Wei in a film studio, who was different from the one in the art studio: they are both with the attitude of “I don’t care anything”, but the Zhu Wei sitting after the monitor was more like a fiery-spirited director.
Zhu Wei has been in with Chinese rock and roll scene. Some years ago, he had designed the stage set for Cui Jian’s singing tour in the USA. Now retrospecting his works created in the 1990s, we immediately found Cui Jian’s image and lyrics in some of them, for example, “Eggs under the Red Flag”, “China’s Diary”, “the Public Square” and “the Running Horse in a Rainy Evening”. People say that Zhu Wei, who expresses rock and roll on the rice paper, has “successfully felt the pulse of the times”, which sounds somewhat awkward. As to me, I would like to present it in a more direct way: the raging blood of rock and roll is flowing in the vessels of the youth who is engaging in ink and wash paintings.
A few days later, we sat in front of his computer to search for the pictures of his works again, but his mouse clicked another unexpected target once more: a folder full of pictures taken on journey. “I took them when I travelled to America”, he said. Then I shifted my attention to the short videos shot with his single-lens reflex recorder. In the early morning, he was overlooking the street gilded by the dim lights from the window of the hotel. With the camera moving up slowly, the tone of the picture leaped from pale yellow to bright blue. Sometimes, he panned out from some words to a roll of old newspaper, a dustbin the newspaper was in, the street by the dustbin, and then a white car rushing by followed by the camera. Sometimes, he was casually browsing the colorful fruits, vegetables, packages, and so on, which were neatly placed on the shelves of the well-supplied supermarket. He had shot the scenes aimlessly, but it seemed that there was an imminent story hidden behind each video; however, the end of the story would never appear.
“Are you still dreaming to make films?” I asked Zhu who graduated from the Department of Stage Design in Film Academy, and he did not make a reply. After a short silence, he said he had ever planned to be enrolled in the Director Department, but then his family discouraged him, and the unpleasant feeling had lasted even till the moment he received my interview. “The matter has affected my whole life”, he said seriously without the sense of humor as a columnist of the journal.
Initially, I was preprocessed by his column of this journal. With a broad vision, he is a little cynical. He is good at introducing humorous suspense into his stories, which makes his articles so funny while profound. I still remember his The Reason Why I Dislike Wotou written at the end of last year: it went from the coarse Wotou, Empress Ci Xi, folk songs and at last to the original lyric of The East is Red. When I was reading it, I could not help singing with the lyric he listed. From then on I have formed a habit: as soon as I see Wotou I want to sing.
Then I drew back my attention to Zhu Wei again. Settling his home in the suburb of Beijing, he drives to the studio near the World Trade Center. From there, one can enjoy the prosperity of the central business district. In the studio, he has a huge workbench covered by paintings made in Song Dynasty and calligraphy paper. Every day he practices handwriting modeling Zhu Da and Yan Zhenqing, accompanied by traditional stories told by Shan Tianfang or rock or jazz. Then he will spend 1 or 2 hours to draw his own paintings carefully, with the rest time used to make drafts. At last, he takes photos for the drafts and saves them into the computer. It sounds that his life is fairly quiet, making him a seemingly hermit who was surrounded by earthliness and far from the fiery-spirited director, rock youth and humorous columnist.
Artists Are Parasites
Hi Art = Hi Zhu Wei = Zhu
I Do Not Want to Mention Artistic Works Created after 1996
Hi: Why don’t you want to talk about artistic worked created after 1996?
Zhu: The contemporary art in China was still at the exploration stage before 1995 and 1996. Then no one dare to say he was brilliant, successful or outstanding. Everyone was trying, so nobody knew what was right, and in such a period, the boldness and skill were the most important. However, since 1996, the contemporary art has been accepted by the market, and the works sell well. Then artists of each generation begin to create paintings with the similar style, which is so boring. What is encouraging them to paint is not their passion but money.
Hi: What you have mentioned is more like a change in the external environment. I find some subtle changes in your own work created in 1996.
Zhu: So you have carefully examined my paintings, which is not so easy for you, a journalist who have to visit various exhibitions frequently. The creation of these paintings began in 1989 and lasted for 6 years. Then I entered a stationary phase in 1996 and made a change. At first, I wanted to draw and cover everything I had seen, while after 1996 I found that it is meaningless if the picture contains too many minute details but without profound language. Then I began to strengthen the artistic language and exclude the meaningless content, by which the painting can touch the point directly and concisely. What is highlighted is the notion, namely, the sense of repression I have been wanting to express.
Hi: What do you mean by “repression”?
Zhu: One the one hand, I mean the living environment of the Chinese people is repressive; on the other, I feel that the ink and wash painting has exerted a lot of pressure on me. As to the living environment, needless to talk about something far away, I can give you some examples happened in these decades. I think the Chinese people are the ones who have suffered most in the world. They have experienced numerous fierce political movements such as Fighting against “Three evils” and “Five evils” and the Cultural Revolution, and then they were thrown into the mainstream of doing business. None of the movements came with a preliminary announcement, and none of them is the result of negotiation with the public. Every Chinese is living passively, and no one knows or can predict what will happen next. Compared with ink and wash paintings, oil paintings only have 100 years of history in China. The earliest originators of Chinese oil paintings are contemporary artists such as Lin Fengmian, Xu Beiming, Jin Shangyi and Zhan Jianjun, and, may include Yang Feiyun and Wang Yidong. However, with a tradition of over 3000 years, ink and wash paintings can be easily dated back to Song Dynasty booming with masters. Therefore, it is rather difficult to draw ink and wash paintings: the breakthrough is hard to make in both techniques and presentation.
Hi: Then how can you deal with such repression?
Zhu: Just accept it.
Indeed, although I say so, I have ever planned to draw some oil-paintings. However, I am also afraid of being accused of lacking a firm stand and leaning to the superior.
Hi: Have you really tried to turn to oil paintings?
Zhu: In 2003, I tried to draw oil paintings and found a girl, who was living in Huajiadi and graduated from Sichuan Academy of Fine Arts, to assist me. Planning to draw 4 large paintings, I had prepared the drafts at first. Then I went to fetch the first painting which was done by her. I still remember she was living on the 3rd floor of an apartment, and I had a rather hard time when I was walking upstairs. Engaging in a fierce mental struggle, I felt I was committing a crime. Then my assistant, who is called Nannan and working in an art gallery now, starred at me, finding that I was sick and pale. Although it was in winter, I sweated, for which she thought that I was tortured with a disease.
Hi: Then what was your feeling towards the painting? Why did you change your mind suddenly?
Zhu: I changed my mind as soon as I went through the door and saw the painting. Of cause, that was a perfect painting. Full of vividness, it was not inferior to those created by any oil-painters from Sichuan, which showed that its creator was fairly brilliant. However, suddenly I found I was standing in front of an oil painting. Every day I had been practicing handwriting with a Chinese writing brush, painting with Chinese techniques on a blanket, pondering over famous Chinese painters such as Shi Tao, Zhu Da and Huang Gongwang - I had spent nearly my lifetime on them, but at last what was created by me was an oil painting. Shocked by such an idea, I broke the partnership with the girl on the spot. Then I paid her and destroyed the painting.
If I did not have such experience, the idea of engaging in oil paintings would linger on my mind. It seems that anyhow I cannot make a way by drawing oil paintings.
I Do Not Like Getting Together with Other Artists
Hi: What was your living condition in the early 1990s like?
Zhu: Then I rented a house, in which I have lived for 7 years, at the west gate of People’s University in Haidian District. With two bedrooms and a living room, it was 60 square meters. Initially the rent was 1300 yuan, and then it gradually rose; when I left, it was 2500. Most of my works were created there.
Hi: Why did not you live near the Winter Palace (Yuanmingyuan)?
Zhu: Then a lot of artists were living by the Winter Palace, and sometimes I went there, dining with them. However, I do not like getting together with other artists, so I chose to settle in Wanquanzhuang which was not too far from there. I remember an artist who lived there married a beautiful and virtuous nurse from Australia. Sometimes I went there to have a meal and visited them in passing.
Hi: How do you keep such distance in creation?
Zhu: An artist must keep distance from another. Drawing is not hunting in which people have to explore the way in convoy.
Recently I only created 6 small paintings, each 4 feet in folio, every year. I am planning to improve the painting technique.
Hi: Does the painting “Two Red Banners” have something to do with your trial of new techniques?
Zhu: Yes, but many do not understand what I am doing, saying that now I have turned to draw abstract paintings. That is not the fact. What I have changed is in techniques. Indeed, the “Banner” series highlight the draperies, as the proverb going, “In Cao Zhongda’s paintings, the clothes are as tight as they are wet; while Wu Daozi can make the painted belts fly with wind.” In ink and wash paintings, lines are critical. However, in modern times we cannot copy the robes drawn by ancient painters. Then I think I can cover red banners in my works: meetings in China are often held with rows of red banners as the background.
Hi: Attributing everything to techniques can simplify the matter. However, haven’t you considered the political significance of the objects you have chosen?
Zhu: Well, sometimes an artist will avoid showing political or descent issues, because he is afraid of being remarked “he is painting just for the occasion.” Sometimes, the adoption of a political theme will half destroy the quality and taste of a painting. People consider that creating political paintings just needs boldness, but I think techniques are also important. I draw red banners because they are familiar to the public. I only want to know what modern objects will be like in ink and wash paintings, without any political intention. We have never lacked forefathers good at drawing draperies, such as the creators of “Eighty-seven Immortals” and “Ladies Wearing Flowers”, all of whom are much more brilliant than me.
We Are All Consuming the Previous Subject Matters
Hi: Would you like to discuss the changes made beyond techniques?
Zhu: Then we come to subject matters. Now I am in my 40s, the period to create excellent works for artists. However, I feel that all that one can draw have been covered, and there is nothing new to me, so the modern paintings cannot arouse my emotion.
Hi: You said there was nothing new in the paintings created after 1996. Haven’t the modern environment produced any new impact?
Zhu: Artists born in the 1950s and 1960s, who are entitled “1985 New Painters” and “After-1980 New Painters”, are all consuming the previous subject matters now. In most cases they are not interested in modern subjects and they have not the rights to show such interest. Who have such rights are those born in the 1970s, 1980s and even 1990s, and they can also seize the essence of modern subject matters more accurately.
Hi: What about you? During about 15 years, haven’t you tried to express something new?
Zhu: I am the same with them. The newest thing I have touched is rock and roll. I cannot bear the cartoons.
Hi: I do not think the problem lies in whether they are cartoons or not. Now you are living a modern life, so what will drive you to paint without new stimulus?
Zhu: For me, paintings are merely done for making money and living, and all the artists I have mentioned are all similar with me. Indeed, every painter making a high-sounding talk has no idea about innovation. If someone says he can make the breakthrough, then I want to ask him some questions like “Do you have new creative concepts or new techniques?” and “What kind of breakthrough have you made?” because at least I want to innovate in techniques.
I have to say that now most of us are consuming the previous resources for making money and a better life. Besides, the young artists’ works also lack vividness and the power to shock the audiences. Of course, the modern society itself has no shock, either. Artists are nothing but parasites. The society is so quiet that you have no chance to do anything special that are isolated from its background.
Hi: Do you think you are the same with the artists you have described?
Zhu: Definitely.
Hi: Don’t you want to make a change?
Zhu: I want to. However, I am nothing but a parasite keening on eating and living and fearing death, so what can I change?
Hi: Well, if we go on the general discuss on society, then we have to stop here. Does not an artist need a personal change?
Zhu: As an artist, I want to make a change now. At present, I want to improve the painting techniques. Breakthrough is indispensible when we are trying to make ink and wash paintings contemporary. I will persist in my career as long as I can lead my life, because I am still addicted to painting. To tell the truth, recently I have no passion to paint, and it seems that nothing is worth doing except for improving the techniques. For his lifetime, an artist will do three things. Firstly, create an excellent painting. By “excellent painting”, I mean you must have a splendid idea which can record the characteristic of the time. Secondly, create or change a technique as Richter who has brought the oil-painting technique to its peak and aroused a visual revolution. Besides, numerous artists imitating him have got rich. Thirdly, change a material. For example, ink and wash paintings have been drawn on rice paper for several thousands of years and maybe we can make a reasonable change in the material. Criteria for measuring an artist’s performance are nothing more than the three. Up to now, I have achieved none of them. Innovation does not surely mean success, and now I am pondering over it. All the three points are worth consideration.
A Depressed Parasite of the Society
Hi: The expression in the eyes of the characters in your paintings always makes me associate them with Zhu Da’s works.
Zhu: I love the style, especially the sense and impact of oppression, of his paintings very much. I have imitated Yan Zhenqing’s calligraphy since my childhood, but now my handwriting is not better than a high school student. By contrast, by seizing the features of Zhu Da’s writing I can imitate him so well: maybe we have something in common in the inner heart. My paintings also often borrow the “fish’s eyes” from his, and they look perfect.
Hi: You have mentioned “oppression” for several times. What makes you feel so depressed?
Zhu: I feel depressed because I always think that artists contribute little to the society. Artists are social parasites who can change nothing. No revolution or social movement was led by an artist.
Hi: When do you begin to realize such an oppressive problem?
Zhu: From the very beginning.
Hi: You have kept close contacts with rock and roll scene, so why do not you change your career?
Zhu: It is too late. I did not have the idea until I have painted for 20 years. A person will lose his hot temper when he is busy with living all day. However, when you are living well off but old, you will feel you do not have the most basic rights such as voting. It is rather oppressive that no one takes you as a person. All artists, from the “1985 New Trend of Thought movement” to the “Post 1989 New Art”, wish to have say in the society as a member of the masses.
People born in the 1960s always carry social responsibility on their shoulder, questioning why the society remains unchanged after so many years. It is said that China’s society is at a transition stage when talents and excellent works should boom. However, I have a different opinion. It appears that China is transiting while indeed now it is staying still on the spot.
Hi: Your recent works give us such a feeling that you have nothing to say. You draw draperies, patterns on porcelains and flower baskets, and it seems that they have nothing to do with your anger.
Zhu: It is true. Indeed they are casual sketches created when I was doing experiments on the function of various painting techniques. You saw them? Sorry!
《Hi艺术》2011年4月号
朱伟
画水墨的愤青、导演、专栏作家
文/安息香 摄影/梅远贵 图片提供/朱伟
那天，朱伟打开电脑是为了找作品图片的。片刻间，他却转移了目标，点开了另一个文件夹，“来，还是先看看这个。”一段尚未剪辑完毕的MV，歌叫《盛开》，来自痛苦的信仰乐队。银灰色调，无背景，只有张着嘴在唱的乐队成员，画面被仔细地处理过，模糊的视觉感受很是有点里希特作品的味道。“我拍的。怎么样？”他挂着一副满不在乎的表情，但内心的得意已经从声音里溢了出来。曲毕，他又找出一段拍摄的花絮——摄影棚里的朱伟跟画室里的朱伟不太一样，同样混不吝的模子下，坐在监视频后的他更有股热血导演的劲儿。
朱伟跟中国摇滚圈交往甚密。早年间，他就曾帮着崔健设计了其在美国巡回演唱会的布景。回头看他90年代的作品，出现过崔健形象与歌词的作品《红旗下的蛋》、《中国日记》、《广场》、《雨夜跑马图》立即映入眼帘。人们说，将摇滚乐付诸于宣纸之上的朱伟“顺利地扣住了时代的脉搏”。这评价听起来有点儿……别扭。我更乐意平铺直叙地描述：那个画水墨画的青年，身上流着摇滚愤怒的血。
几日后，我们又一次坐在电脑前，目的依然是找作品图片。他的鼠标再一次抛锚在了别处：一个塞满了旅行照片的文件夹——“去美国玩的时候拍的”。我的注意力转移到他那些用单反相机录像功能拍摄下来的小段视频上：临晨时分，他从酒店的窗口俯视楼下被昏黄灯光晕染得泛黄的马路，镜头缓慢向上移动，色调一路从昏黄跳跃到明亮的深蓝；或是从一块局部文字起始，慢慢将镜头拉远，显现出一卷旧报纸，一只被丢进这卷旧报纸的垃圾箱，垃圾箱旁的街道，紧接着，街边一辆白色的车疾驶而过，镜头随车跟远；又或是在琳琅满目的超市货架边，散漫的视线掠过码放齐整的鲜艳的水果、蔬菜和包装盒……他漫不经心地拍下那些场景，每一段都像是藏着一个即将发生的故事，却又都无疾而终。
“你心中仍做电影梦吧？”我问这个从电影学院舞台美术系毕业的人，他不接茬。片刻沉默之后，他讲起曾经想重考导演系的过往。当年未被家人支持的别扭延续至今，“那事影响了我的一生”。说这话时的朱伟有点严肃，没了给杂志写专栏时的幽默劲儿。
要说我对朱伟最初产生的好感，还是从他为杂志撰写的专栏文章开始的。他视野广泛，有点儿愤青，讲故事擅长系包袱、抖包袱，看时觉得逗乐，掩卷却又让人想要思量半晌。犹记去年年末他那一篇《我为什么不喜欢吃窝头》，一路从窝头的粗糙扯到慈禧扯到民歌，最后抖出《东方红》的原歌词，让看文章的我不由自主，对着歌词唱了起来。这文章在我身上留下了后遗症，导致我现在一看到窝头就想唱歌。
视线收回，看看画室里的朱伟：他把家置于北京郊外，每天一早驱车来到位于国贸附近，抬眼尽收CBD繁华市景于眼皮下的工作室，在他那张摊放满了宋画、书法册页的大工作台上一边练着八大山人和颜真卿的字，一边听着电脑里放着的单田芳评书、摇滚或是爵士。练字完毕，他会认真画一两个钟头作品，剩下的时间用来画草稿。之后，他拍下那些草稿，存进电脑里。这日子听起来安安静静，颇有些“大隐隐于世”之感，仿佛跟热血导演、摇滚青年、幽默的专栏作家都没了联系。
艺术家就是寄生虫
Hi艺术=Hi 朱伟=朱
不提96年之后的作品
Hi：为什么不想提1996年之后的作品？
朱：95、96年以前，中国的当代艺术还处于探索阶段。那时候没有一个人敢说自己牛逼，敢说自己能脱颖而出，每个人都在尝试，谁都不知道“对”是什么。在没有人敢肯定自己“对”的时代里，人们拼的是胆量，看的是功力。96年之后逐渐被市场认可，这些作品变得好卖，样式也趋于雷同，老中青三代人都开始画一样的东西，意思不大了。不是有感而发，而是都奔着钱去了。
Hi：你所说的那种变化更多的是指外部大环境的变化，但我感觉你的作品本身在96年时发生了一次微妙的变化。
朱：证明你看过我的画，而且很细心，作为你们天天跑展览的媒体记者来说能做到这点很不易。我从89年之后开始这批作品的创作，一口气画了6年，到96年进入了一个平稳期。主要的变化是不像一开始，觉得千言万语都想往里招呼，看什么都想画。96年之后开始发现画面太繁琐，很多东西没意义，语言太弱，开始强化语言，把无意义的部分挤出去，做到言简意赅。开始突出观念，也就是我一直在想要表达的压抑感。
Hi：什么让你压抑？
朱：一个是中国人生存环境的压抑，再一个是水墨画本身所带给我的压力。中国人生存环境的压抑，远的不说，就最近的这几十年，世界上哪个国家的老百姓如此被折腾。先是三反五反、文化大革命等等大大小小无数个轰轰烈烈的政治运动，再是后来全民下海、人人经商、轰轰烈烈的经济运动，哪一个事先跟老百姓商量过，哪怕打一个招呼。每一个中国人过得都相当被动，没人知道，也没人能预测下一步会是什么。和水墨画相比，油画来到中国才一百来年，中国油画的鼻祖往前推也就是林风眠、徐悲鸿、靳尚谊、詹建俊这一拨人，弄不好连杨飞云、王沂东都能算上；而水墨画有三千年以上的传统压在这儿，往前轻轻一回顾，就能到大师云集的宋代。所以说，画水墨画非常难。无论技法还是表现内容，都非常难有突破。
Hi：怎么面对这种压抑？
朱：认命。
说是认命，其实我也动摇过，活动过心眼，也想画几张油画，但是怕找着让人骂：立场不坚定，哪好奔哪去。
Hi：你是真的试着改过么？
朱：2003年的时候，我还真找了一个住在花家地的川美毕业的小姑娘，帮着画油画。草图都弄好了，四张大画，我先起了个稿，等头一张画完我去取。记得那姑娘住在一居民楼的三层，我上台阶的时候就觉得难受极了，一直在激烈地琢摩这事，觉得是犯罪。我当时的助理、现在在今日美术馆工作的楠楠小姐一直在看着我，发现我不太对劲，脸色发白，尽管是冬天，还顺着脑袋冒汗，以为我要犯病。
Hi：你看到那张画是什么感觉？怎么就在一瞬间改了主意？
朱：一进门看见那张画，我当即就改主意了。当然，画画得非常好，不亚于他们四川来的任何一个画油画的艺术家，属于有灵气、有才情的那种。我忽然发现在我面前的是一张油画。我这一辈子天天攥着毛笔练字，趴在毡子上三矾六染，脑子里转着石涛、八大、黄公望，最后却整出一张油画来……我心里一惊，于是当着人小姑娘的面就反悔了。钱给人家，画毁掉。
要是不试，我还真会老有这种想法，不见棺材不落泪。看来油画我是死活画不成了。
我不愿意扎堆
Hi：回头看90年代初，那会儿你的生存状况什么样？
朱：那会儿在海淀人民大学西门租的房，两室一厅，60平方米，一住就是七年。房租从开始时的1300块逐渐涨到我走的时候的2500块。我的大部分作品都是在那儿产生的。
Hi：怎么没去圆明园待着？
朱：那会儿很多艺术家都在圆明园，有时我也会去那儿跟他们吃饭，但我不愿意扎堆。就挑了个离那儿不太远的万泉庄住着。记得圆明园有个艺术家 ，找了个澳大利亚的女护士，人漂亮，也贤慧。我有时会骑车子过去吃顿饭，顺便看两眼。
Hi：在创作上你怎么保持这个距离？
朱：与同行保持距离，是艺术家必须做到的。画画又不是打狼，没必要成群结队，相伴着前进。
最近几年画得不多，每年六张四尺对开的小画，想在技法上做一点改进。
Hi：《两面红旗》系列与技法上的尝试有关？
朱：对。很多人不明白，说我怎么现在画抽象了，其实不是，它是技法上的事。其实《红旗》系列画的是衣纹，“曹衣出水，吴带当风”，水墨画讲究的是线。但是当下不能再画过去的长袍，那叫抄袭。我想起红旗——中国人一开会，背后就是红旗，一串一串的。
Hi：归结于技法使事情变得很单纯，但你选择对象时难道真的没有考虑过它的政治意义？
朱：怎么说呢。有时候艺术家回避政治、回避血统问题，是怕别人说你应景。有时候一旦选择一个跟政治有关的话题，画的好坏，层次就被抹去一半了，人们觉得那只需要有胆量画就行。其实这里面还有技法。奔着红旗画，是因为这东西大家熟悉，我就是想看看用水墨画画现代的东西该怎么画，还真不是奔着政治去的。画衣纹的祖宗有的是，比如《八十七神仙卷》、《簪花仕女图》，哪个都比我画得好。
都在消费以往的题材
Hi：说说技法之外的改变吧？
朱：技法之外应该是题材。像我这个年龄，四十多岁，应该正是出好作品的时候，但是我觉得前边该画的都画了，现在看什么都不新鲜，所以没感觉。
Hi：你说96年之后人们的创作都变得不新鲜了。难道当下的坏境就没有造成些新的影响吗？
朱：50、60后，这些所谓的85新潮、后八九新潮的一代，到现在都是在消费以往的题材。现在的东西，这些人基本不感兴趣，也没资格感兴趣。有权利感兴趣的是70、80后，甚至90后，他们把握得会准确一些。
Hi：那你呢？将近15年的时间里，你就没有去试图表达点新东西吗？
朱：我也是。撑死了也就是参与点摇滚乐的事。小卡通什么的，我首先就排斥。
Hi：这不是卡通不卡通的问题。你面对的是当下的生活，如果感受不到新的刺激，今后创作的动力又在哪里？
朱：现在的创作基本是画几张画换成钱，变成过日子了。不光我一个人，这一帮人都是。不管谁在唱什么高调，其实都没什么主意。如果谁说有，那么请告诉我：你有新的创作理念吗？哪怕就在技法上，你有新的突破吗？我好歹还想在技法上突破一下。
我不得不说，大家基本是在消费以前的东西，拿这个来换钱，把日子过得更好。包括现在的年轻艺术家，创作出来的东西都没有什么活力，不震动他人。当然这个社会也没什么可震动他人的事发生。艺术家就是寄生虫。社会很平静，你不可能做出什么特别的、脱离了社会背景的事。
Hi：你把自己归纳在刚才描述的群体中吗？
朱：我就是。
Hi：真的就不想改变吗？
朱：想改变。但吃嘛嘛香、贪生怕死的寄生虫，能改变什么？
Hi：往大里说到社会，这对话就没办法进行了。难道艺术家个人就不需要改变？
朱：作为艺术家，我现在想变。目前想在技法上变，水墨画要想当代化，总有人得去突破。只要日子过得下去，我就会做，因为我对画画这件事还有瘾。说句实在话，我这几年的创作确实没什么激情，除了技法以外，仿佛没什么事儿值得去做。艺术家一辈子做的就三件事儿：第一，画一张好画。所谓画一张好画就是你要有一个好的创意，它要记录这个时代的特征。第二，创造或者改变一种技法。像里希特那样，把油画的技法发挥到了极致，带动一场视觉上的革命，也让世界上学他的大大小小的艺术家们致了富。第三，改变一种材料。比如几千年的水墨都是在宣纸上画，能不能改变材料之后，还能让别人都觉得合理。衡量一个艺术家好坏的不外乎这三件事，到目前为止，我一件都没有完成。标新立异不一定意味着成功，我还在清理，这三件事都值得琢磨。
压抑的社会寄生虫
Hi：你画中人物的眼神总让我联想到八大山人的画。
朱：八大山人画中的气质，特别是那种压抑的感觉和气场，我挺喜欢。颜真卿的字我打小就练，写到现在还跟中学生似的。可八大山人的字，前藏头，后藏尾，我一练就能写得很像，可能还是内心有接近的地方。我也老把他那鱼眼画在人的身上，还挺合适。
Hi：你总在提“压抑”这个词。怎么就觉得那么压抑了？
朱：压抑……因为我总觉得一个艺术家对社会的贡献不是特别大。艺术家是社会的寄生虫，改变不了什么，没听说哪次革命、哪场运动是艺术家领导的。
Hi：你什么时候意识到这个令你压抑的问题的？
朱：一直。
Hi：你跟摇滚圈非常亲近，怎么早先就没想着转行啊？
朱：晚啦，画了20年之后才想起这事。当一个人一天到晚还在为吃喝奔波时，你没有那么大的火气。但是当你感到衣食不愁，有吃有喝，岁数不小时，你会发现自己原来连投票的权利都没有。没有人把你当人，这是很压抑的。从85美术新潮到后89，艺术家就是希望自己作为普通百姓的一员，在社会上有发言权。
60年代的人老是有种社会责任感，总觉得怎么过了这么多年，社会还是没有什么变化。中国社会现在处于转型时期，转型时期出人才、出作品。我觉得事情不是这样。看上去是社会转型期，但实际上停滞不前，是原地转圈时期。
Hi：你最近的画有点无话可说的感觉。衣纹，瓷器花纹，花篮……跟你这种愤怒的心态没什么关系似的。
朱：没有。那些其实是课徒稿，是在实验着各种技法的可能性。让你看到了，对不起啊！ |
