The Drawer of Wu Dayu centers on Wu’s oeuvre in watercolor, oil pastel, and mixed media, with a hundred works carefully selected from nearly 700 pieces of non-sketch or studies. Regardless of scale, Wu’s work manifests a fusion of shixiang (Dynamic Expressionism), light and color, tone and hue, testing viewers’ imagination and perception of color, form, and sound. Compared with oil works, works on paper relatively require less time and cost, which might have allowed the artist to continue his art practice amidst political turmoil, and as a result, for the following generations to see the myriad attempts by the man who had honed his skills in Paris: interweaving influences of Impressionism, Cubism, and Fauvism, palpable through an experimental and intuitive play of colors, lines, and compositions, accentuated by an Eastern aesthetic that belongs singularly to Wu Dayu. Each brushstroke, each dab of color is driven by his determination to refute and surpass himself, and the resulting works remain artistic surprises until today.
The small works of Wu Dayu diverge drastically from what is commonly viewed as sketches or studies. He was not satisfied by a mere objective representation or documentation, but longed to portray the reality seen in his mind’s eye, treading that fine line between the rational and the emotional, while exploring the possibilities in objects’ ability to transform into mental images or illusions. His work is a looking glass through which viewers see him: obstinate in his aesthetic taste, ardent in his pursuit of art, emancipation, and innocence.
Supported by his family, who remained adamant in their belief in him and his art, Wu Dayu kept on painting, despite political persecution and his fall in disgrace, as he swallowed his pride and led a life in the shadows committed to art, locking his work away in a small drawer in that tiny attic. Quietly Wu and his family waited for the day the truth shone through, when Art was redeemed, the luster of their character restored, harsh adversities for half a century dissipated like a fleeting dream at the break of dawn.
