Lot 159: WUCIUS WONG

B. 1936
WINDOW DREAM NO. 9

27 1/2 by 27 1/2 in. 70 by 70 cm

signed, titled, dated 2004 and with two seals of the artist

ink, color and collage on paper

EXHIBITED

Hong Kong, Grotto Fine Art Ltd., Wucius Wong: Window Dreams, September - October 2004, p. 15, illustrated in color

NOTE

Wucius Wong has been a pivotal figure in the development of Hong Kong art for the last four decades. Wong's signature style is well known -- a combination of Western graphic design and Chinese landscape. Using a repertoire of ancient techniques, Wong devised a new vision of landscape painting based on classical works by Fan Kuan (10th c.), Guo Xi (11th c.), Ni Zan (14th c.) and Hongren (17th c.). Window Dreams depicts urban scenery and city landscapes which the artist perceives through an apparent window frame. But the paintings are more self-reflective than subjective, with the artist revealing himself rather than presenting his view.

The inscription on the present work comprises the text of nine poems selected from Wang Wei's "Wang River" collection, translated below:

The autumn hill gathers remaining light,
A flying bird chases its companion before.
The green colour is momentarily bright,
Sunset mist has no fixed place.

In the midst of autumn rain,
Flowing along the stony brook.
Each splashing fighting with each other,
Watching this match a white bird from above.

The water of Northern Lake flowing north bound,
Casting a line of trees with their reflections.
Pondering the southern river,
Thinking about the past with lush forest.

I sit alone in the dark bamboo grove,
Playing the zither and whistling long.
In this deep wood no one would know -
Only the bright moon comes to shine.

A red peony sitting at the end of a tree branch,
Exfoliating a brilliant red hue within the mountain.
There is no one near the hut by the stream,
Falling from the trees these beautiful flagrant.

Hills are empty, no man is seen,
Yet the sound of people's voices is heard.
Light is cast into the deep forest,
And shines again on green moss.

A bird in flight goes on without limit,
Joined hills are autumn's colours again.
From top to bottom of Huazi Ridge,
Melancholy feeling has no end.

Wingceltis and goldenrain shine at the empty bend,
Fresh and green, rippling ever onward.
A secret road leads up to Shangshan hill,
Even the woodcutter does not know.

I have a new house at Mengcheng's mouth,
The old willow tree is full of grief.
Who will come after, I do not know,
He must feel sorrow for those in the past.