2017.07.06 Thu, by Translated by: Valerie C. Doran
Zheng Li: An Artist’s Obsession with the Aesthetics of Brush and Ink

Ran Dian Ink
This article was originally published by Hanart TZ.

Anyone who knows both me and Zheng Li is aware that we are unabashed admirers of each other’s work. Over the more than 20 years of our acquaintance, during our frequent visits to one another’s studios, we have always been open and honest in our discussions, whether it comes to our views on shanshui painting, or our attitudes towards art and life in general. Zheng Li’s deep understanding of the artistic language of bimo (brush and ink) is rare among contemporary ink painters, and thus we easily connect on an artistic level: in many other ways, however, our personalities are poles apart. Perhaps the thing we most have in common is our faith in shanshui painting.

Another striking thing about Zheng Li is how much he loves to eat; he is a true gourmand. He especially likes to extoll the merits of Hangzhou cuisine, and in particular those roadside restaurants that dot the shoreline along Qiantang Lake. He also loves a joke, and is completely unselfconscious about breaking out into loud peals of laughter. Over the course of our long friendship, we have become true friends as well as artistic compatriots; our families have become close as well, and our homes are always open to each other.

With this level of ease and trust, it is easy to grasp the intention that lies at the heart of Zheng Li’s creative work, and this is especially true since Zheng Li’s paintings so clearly reflect his inner cultivation and his life values. When an artist paints too self-consciously, too rigorously in accord with a set of prescriptions or rules, then his work can easily become separated from life. If one is too earnest, too sedulous in the act of painting, the result is a painting that becomes devoid of any real heart, and descends into the realm of the cliché.

What I most want most to emphasize here in terms of Zheng Li’s work is the incredible quality of pure, elegant ease with which he paints. And at the same time, in some corner of his heart, one can also sense the scholar-gentleman’s inner composure and confidence, which can be described as an ability to hold one’s ground even if it means standing apart from the crowd. Zheng Li is very serious about maintaining the qualities of artistic freedom and independence of thought—one could even say he has a kind of arrogance or willful determination. 

Downstream: A Painting Born of Willful Determination

One of the major events in Hangzhou’s art world last year was the completion of the new Gongwang Art Museum in Fuyang district, designed by the famous architect Wang Shu. And one of the most important events that occurred in tandem with the museum’s completion was its opening exhibition, Shanshui Manifesta, curated by Gao Shiming. The exhibition title is an indication of the kind of ambition and expectation that Gao Shiming holds for shanshui painting in the 21st century. And in my view, of all the works in the show, Zheng Li’s handscroll Downstream was one of the most ambitious and thought-provoking, both in terms of its connectivity to the shanshui tradition and its ability to push the tradition to a new level. [scroll down to continue]

郑力,《晴雪》,水墨 设色 纸本,233 x 135 cm,2002(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供) ZHENG Li,

郑力,《晴雪》,水墨 设色 纸本,233 x 135 cm,2002(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供)
ZHENG Li, “Pure as Snow”, Ink and Colour on Paper, 233 x 135 cm, 2002 (Image Courtesy of the Artist and Hanart TZ Gallery)

郑力,《故园心眼》,水墨 设色 纸本240 x 128 cm,2017(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供) ZHENG Li,

郑力,《故园心眼》,水墨 设色 纸本,240 x 128 cm,2017(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供)
ZHENG Li, “Reflections of the Classical Garden”, Ink and Colour on Paper, 240 x 128 cm, 2017 (Image Courtesy of the Artist and Hanart TZ Gallery)

郑力,《书香门第》,水墨 设色 纸本,1999(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供) ZHENG Li,

郑力,《书香门第》,水墨 设色 纸本,169 x 248 cm,1999(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供)
ZHENG Li, “Aura of the Literati”, Ink and Colour on Paper, 169 x 248 cm, 1999 (Image Courtesy of the Artist and Hanart TZ Gallery)

郑力,《与谁同尘》,水墨 设色 纸本,Ink and Colour on Paper,170 x 248 cm,1999-2002(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供) ZHENG Li,

郑力,《与谁同尘》,水墨 设色 纸本,Ink and Colour on Paper,170 x 248 cm,1999-2002(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供)
ZHENG Li, “Who is My Life’s Companion?”, Ink and Colour on Paper, 170 x 248 cm, 1999-2002 (Image Courtesy of the Artist and Hanart TZ Gallery)

Huang Gongwang completed his masterpiece Dwelling in the Fuchun Mountains in the year 1354, and over the next six hundred years, from the Ming dynasty to the Republican period, painters have created their own versions of the work, bringing various personal qualities to their interpretations, whether conscious awkwardness (Shen Zhou), kinetic undulations (Wang Shimin), or the decoding of Huang Gongwang’s expressive brushwork (Wang Yuanqi); not to mention Wu Hufan’s own virtuosic copy of the scroll that caused a sensation in art circles. Yet all of these artists still practiced within the fundamental precepts of the orthodox tradition. Only Zheng Li has gone against this tide, as he indicates in the title of his work, Downstream. Keeping his feet firmly planted on the ground, and undertaking his own critical analysis, Zheng Li has created a completely new version of Dwelling in the Fuchun Mountains, by painting the entire composition in reverse.

To be honest, as a shanshui painter, when I first heard about Zheng Li’s concept I thought it was over the top and I had a hard time accepting it. But then, a few months before the exhibition, I was visiting Zheng Li at his studio and I saw the half-finished landscape scroll pinned to the wall. At the time, Zheng Li was deep in conversation with Gao Shiming, analyzing the unique elements of Dwelling in the Fuchun Mountains. Suddenly he turned to me and said: ‘Hey Xu, don’t you think I’ve just opened up a whole new way of looking at this painting?’ I had at that moment been hunting all over the studio for something to drink, and when I finally found a half-empty bottle of wine, Zheng Li added: ‘Actually you drank half of that same bottle of wine two years ago!’ Then he turned back to Gao Shiming and continued his conversation.

Holding a glass in my hand, I split my concentration between drinking wine, listening to the two of them yakking away, and scrutinizing Zheng Li’s Downstream painting, where it was hanging on the wall. Gradually, I fell completely under the painting’s spell. Every shanshui artist knows the history of Huang Gongwang’s Dwelling in the Fuchun Mountains: how as an old man this great artist and scholar spent years of his life, and his blood sweat and tears, to create this masterpiece; and how he subsequently has been honoured for generations for his accomplishment. Now Zheng Li was taking this great work, whose influence and renown has spread far and wide for over seven centuries, and turning it on its head, attempting to deconstruct each of its devices and patterns. But I realized then that in the mission of painting it in reverse, Zheng Li had undertaken a very thorough analysis of the painting, and in so doing had truly been able to discern and capture its essence, its perfections and its flaws, and its inimitable spirit.

I believe that the reason Zheng Li took such an approach was because he was not satisfied by only responding to history. He is very confident in his facility with brush and ink, and the usual bag of tricks cannot excite him. With his discerning eye, Zheng Li examined the history of Dwelling in the Fuchun Mountains, and in Gao Shiming’s show he saw an opportunity not so much for a response, but for a confrontation: this was the only thing that could really arouse Zheng Li’s spirit and captivate his interest.

To seek out the roots and origins of the styles and techniques of brushwork has been the orthodox practice of Chinese painters throughout history. Open up a book on the history of Chinese painting and you will see how across dynasties and periods painters have emulated, imitated, and copied works and stylistic elements of the great masters. At first I took this state of affairs for granted, revering the past and dismissing the contemporary world as inferior to it. It was only after I really spent some time connecting deeply with the pulse of our cultural history that I understood that the evolution of Chinese culture is an evolving network of connectivity. It is only by understanding and grasping the root sources of that history that one is able to achieve new latitudes of creativity, and thus make work that is in turn supported by that history. In other words, it is only by bringing forth the new from the roots of the old that true innovation and transformation are possible.

Over the millennia, the evolution of Chinese painting has been characterized by both responses to and confrontations with its own history. An apt metaphor here is the famous comic dialogue ‘Guan Gong vs. Qin Qiong’. At first this story seems merely a farce, but if you ponder it more deeply you will find that it has another layer of meaning. Qin Qiong and Guan Gong were famous generals from two different dynastic periods, and in order for Qin Qiong to confront and do battle with Guan Gong, he had to travel across time: this was no easy feat, because it meant that Qin Qiong had to be brought to life again in order to travel through history. In a way, Zheng Li set himself an equally difficult challenge.

郑力,《子孙满堂》,水墨 设色 纸本,109 x 68 cm,2002(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供) ZHENG Li,

郑力,《子孙满堂》,水墨 设色 纸本,109 x 68 cm,2002(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供)
ZHENG Li, “Abundant Offspring”, Ink and Colour on Paper, 109 x 68 cm, 2002 (Image Courtesy of the Artist and Hanart TZ Gallery)

郑力,《游园惊梦》,水墨 设色 纸本,210 x 198 cm,2009(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供) ZHENG Li,

郑力,《游园惊梦》,水墨 设色 纸本,210 x 198 cm,2009(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供)
ZHENG Li, “Garden Dream”, Ink and Colour on Paper, 210 x 198 cm, 2009 (Image Courtesy of the Artist and Hanart TZ Gallery)

郑力,《我亦有亭深竹里,也思归去听秋声》,水墨 设色 纸本,184 x 372 cm,2015(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供) ZHENG Li,

郑力,《我亦有亭深竹里,也思归去听秋声》,水墨 设色 纸本,184 x 372 cm,2015(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供)
ZHENG Li, “‘I have a pavilion deep in the bamboo forest, where I long to listen to the autumn wind’”, Ink and Colour on Paper, 184 x 372 cm, 2015 (Image Courtesy of the Artist and Hanart TZ Gallery)

The garden painting in the temple

The Chinese garden is one of greatest cultural creations in the world. Although its evolution is beyond the scope of this essay, it is important to note that the composition of its key elements varies according to the cultivation, tastes and sensibilities of its creator. Whether large or small in scale, every garden is composed of five main elements: courtyards, walkways, studios, pavilions and bridges. The ‘gathered mountains and flowing water’ of the garden are a symbol of the high mountain peaks and rushing rivers beyond its walls. The garden is a concentrated metaphor, a microcosm of the grand natural landscape. The possible forms and transformations, twists and turns of a garden are marvelous and endless in their permutations, much to the delight of its creator.

The Chinese garden constitutes a multi-sensory experience within a completely unique domain. The famous garden of Wangchuan Villa attributed to the Tang-dynasty poet-painter Wang Wei can be described as a wonderful reflection of the spirit and tastes of the Chinese scholar-artist class. Whether or not the original scroll painting depicting the Wangchuan Villa garden actually came from Wang Wei’s hand is unimportant: what is important is that this representation of the garden encapsulates the ultimate spirit and sensibility of the Chinese scholar-artist, from Wang Wei’s time all the way through to that of the late Qing literati.

Zheng Li must often experience a sense of regret that he was born too late, in a time outside of literati history. Yet he has an uncanny understanding and affinity for the aesthetics and spirit of the Chinese garden, as is reflected in both his earlier works such as Aura of the Literati (Shuxiang Mendi) and Garden Dream (Youyuan Jingmeng) to his more recent Su Dongpo. All are eloquent articulations of his inner ode to the garden. Zheng Li not only is able to capture the spiritual ambience of the scholar’s garden, he is also able to create unique garden compositions based on his own taste and sensibilities. At first the eye is captivated by the harmonious forms and placement of his doorways and windows, furnishings and decorative objects, bamboo and rocks, walls and pavilions; and then one finds that the overall compositional effect is like that of a mural painting on a temple wall, infusing Zheng Li’s garden paintings with the pure atmosphere of a sacred place.

郑力,《潇洒出尘》,水墨 纸本,41 x 172.5 cm,2013(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供) ZHENG Li,

郑力,《潇洒出尘》,水墨 纸本,41 x 172.5 cm,2013(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供)
ZHENG Li, “Soaring above the World”, Ink on Paper, 41 x 172.5 cm, 2013 (Image Courtesy of the Artist and Hanart TZ Gallery)

郑力,《鹤鸣九皋,声闻于天》,水墨 纸本,水墨 纸本,2006(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供) ZHENG Li,

郑力,《鹤鸣九皋,声闻于天》,水墨 纸本,44 x 69 cm,2006(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供)
ZHENG Li, “‘The crane cries in the ninth pool of the marsh, and her cries are heard in the sky’”, Ink on Paper, 44 x 69 cm,2006 (Image Courtesy of the Artist and Hanart TZ Gallery)

郑力,《玉树临风》,水墨 古纸本,51 x 106 cm,2015(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供) ZHENG Li,

郑力,《玉树临风》,水墨 古纸本,51 x 106 cm,2015(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供)
ZHENG Li, “Windswept Elegance”, Ink on Antique Paper, 51 x 106 cm, 2015 (Image Courtesy of the Artist and Hanart TZ Gallery)

郑力,《谷雨》,水墨 纸本,37 x 80 cm ,2002(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供) ZHENG Li,

郑力,《谷雨》,水墨 纸本,37 x 80 cm ,2002(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供)
ZHENG Li, “Grain Rain”, Ink on Paper, 37 x 80 cm, 2002 (Image Courtesy of the Artist and Hanart TZ Gallery)

郑力,《霜降》,水墨 纸本,75 x 37 cm,2002(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供) ZHENG Li,

郑力,《霜降》,水墨 纸本,75 x 37 cm,2002(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供)
ZHENG Li, “Frost Falls”, Ink on Paper, 75 x 37 cm, 2002 (Image Courtesy of the Artist and Hanart TZ Gallery)

From Zheng Li’s obsession to the creative pulse of Chinese bimo painting

On a trip to the United States in 2013 I visited the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art I saw the scroll Fisherman’s Evening Song by Northern Song painter Xu Daoning. The painting completely took my breath away. The artist’s brilliant interplay of ink and brush to construct time, space, and landscape created a sense of integrated wholeness that seemed already part of the cosmic order: words are superfluous to try and describe this effect. If one were to take away the painting’s foreground scene of fishermen drinking wine to celebrate the day’s catch, then what would be left would be only pure and timeless brush play, transcending both the ancient and the new, and a timeless existence like that of the sky, the water and the stars. It would be as though Xu Daoning had created a realm that came forth from the cosmic void.

Huang Gongwang once wrote: ‘Always carry your brush inside your leather pouch; then when you encounter a beautiful scene in the landscape, or a tree with a particularly strange and intriguing form, you can immediately paint it and capture its likeness.’ Dong Qichang praised Huang Gongwang’s ‘transcendent spirit’ as one that is ‘so well equipped with every technical expertise that it manages to rid itself of all mundane trappings, and to forge its own path.’ Taken as a whole, Huang Gongwang’s Dwelling in the Fuchun Mountains faithfully captures the essence and features of the mountainous Jiangnan landscape. Using a number of different brushwork techniques such as long, undulating hemp texture strokes, Huang articulates the layered peaks and valleys, the mountains and forests cloaked in mist, the small village houses along the sandy banks, brilliantly capturing both near views and far distances, and articulating both the density and the vastness of the Jiangnan landscape. Huang Binhong’s comment that Huang Gongwang had captured the ‘pure majesty of the mountains and the lushness of the vegetation’ is absolutely right.

Over time, shanshui painting has developed over different creative paths; sometimes these paths intersect, sometimes they diverge. As the times change, artistic practice unavoidably gives rise to new forms of innovation. Shitao’s statement that ‘ink painting should change with the times’ had a deep influence on later generations, but I have always had conflicting feelings about this relationship. There is no doubt that art is a process of creativity, but can an artist really just insist on following his own path? The great masterpieces of history are able to illuminate both the past and the present. Chinese ink painting has developed its own unique system based on the interplay of brush and ink, and the endless variations possible within this system are in close syncopation with the pulse of Chinese aesthetic sensibility. This aesthetic is reflective of a conceptual framework for understanding the world that has been developing over thousands of years. The ideology that espouses the breakdown or subversion of the past as the only path to innovation in fact leads to a situation where destructiveness prevails over constructiveness. The notion that ‘without destruction there can be no construction’ leads people into a wrong way of thinking. In fact, true breakthrough stands on the foundation of cultural and civilizational roots.

As we are still in the historical phase of modernization, we continue to lack a sense of continuity between our civilizational past, our present and our future. Many things have happened, and will continue to happen, that cause a disrupture between us and our source culture, and we fall into a trap of misinterpreting the old and the new, as a dynamic of the past and the future. In an age dominated by science and technology, we have faith in the future, but at the same time the belief that we must discard the old to bring in the new has become systemic, and is gradually eroding our ability to connect with the great masterworks of our history.

Certainly there will always be stylistic and conceptual breakthroughs in art that give rise to the masterworks of a new age. Running parallel to this is a desire to maintain a determined connection with the fundamental compositional principles and brush techniques of the past. The aesthetic ethos of the past was not marked by the kind of major differences in practice and attitudes that we see today: despite their stylistic differences, both Wang Yuanqi and Shitao are considered representative shanshui artists of their time: in fact the differences between them ultimately are evidence of their artistic consonance.

Several years ago Gao Shiming and I were talking about the tradition of Indian and Iranian miniature painting, and Gao Shiming said to me: ‘If you were to go to Iran today to look at miniature paintings, the only place you would be able to find them is in the museum, because almost all traces of this artistic tradition have disappeared from among the people. But the situation with Chinese shanshui painting is very different: no matter whether you are satisfied with current practices or not, its fundamental methods and principles are still active. And isn’t this proof of something? I believe that it is proof that shanshui painting has already become a part of our fundamental cultural identity, and so we can still have expectations for its future!’ Over the past few years I’ve pondered the implications of Gao Shiming’s comment, with the effect that it has made me much less judgmental and more open to contemporary shanshui art. And of all the contemporary work I’ve encountered, it is Zheng Li’s art that I admire most. On another level, I am also very aware that my discussion of Zheng Li’s painting Downstream as a confrontation with Huang Gongwang’s Dwelling in the Fuchun Mountains, is also my response to Gao Shiming’s observation.

Written at Donghai Hall, early spring 2017

郑力,《小万壑松风图》,水墨 纸本,34 x 104 cm,2009(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供) ZHENG Li,

郑力,《小万壑松风图》,水墨 纸本,34 x 104 cm,2009(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供)
ZHENG Li, “‘Wind in Pines amid Myriad Valleys’in Miniature”, Ink on Paper, 34 x 104 cm, 2009 (Image Courtesy of the Artist and Hanart TZ Gallery)

郑力,《万壑松风图卷》,水墨 纸本,36 x 196 cm,2010(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供) ZHENG Li,

郑力,《万壑松风图卷》,水墨 纸本,36 x 196 cm,2010(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供)
ZHENG Li, “‘Wind in Pines amid Myriad Valleys’”, Ink on Paper, 36 x 196 cm, 2010 (Image Courtesy of the Artist and Hanart TZ Gallery)

郑力,《顺水图》,水墨 古纸本,75 x 37 cm,2016(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供)ZHENG Li,

郑力,《顺水图》,水墨 古纸本,35 x 696 cm,2016(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供)
ZHENG Li, “Downstream”, Ink on Antique Paper, 35 x 696 cm, 2016 (Image Courtesy of the Artist and Hanart TZ Gallery)

郑力,《瑞鹤图》,水墨 设色 纸本,187 x 274 cm,2002(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供) ZHENG Li,

郑力,《瑞鹤图》,水墨 设色 纸本,187 x 274 cm,2002(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供)
ZHENG Li, “Auspicious Cranes”, Ink and Colour on Paper , 187 x 274 cm, 2002 (Image Courtesy of the Artist and Hanart TZ Gallery)

郑力,《玉宇高飞》,水墨 设色 纸本,137 x 276 cm,2016(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供) ZHENG Li,

郑力,《玉宇高飞》,水墨 设色 纸本,137 x 276 cm,2016(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供)
ZHENG Li, “Soaring through Heaven”, Ink and Colour on Paper , 137 x 276 cm, 2016 (Image Courtesy of the Artist and Hanart TZ Gallery)

郑力,《狮子林写生》,水墨 金笺,31.5 x 82 cm,2011(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供) ZHENG Li,

郑力,《狮子林写生》,水墨 金笺,31.5 x 82 cm,2011(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供)
ZHENG Li, “Views of Lion Grove Garden (Shizi lin)”, Ink on Gold Paper, 31.5 x 82 cm, 2011 (Image Courtesy of the Artist and Hanart TZ Gallery)

郑力,《狮子林》,水墨 金笺,41 x 189 cm,2014(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供) ZHENG Li,

郑力,《狮子林》,水墨 金笺,41 x 189 cm,2014(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供)
ZHENG Li, “Lion Grove Garden (Shizi lin)”, Ink on Gold Paper, 41 x 189 cm, 2014 (Image Courtesy of the Artist and Hanart TZ Gallery)

郑力,《东园》,水墨 金笺,2012,2012(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供) ZHENG Li,

郑力,《东园》,水墨 金笺,31.5 x 40.5 cm,2012(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供)
ZHENG Li, “East Garden (Dong Yuan)” 2012, 31.5 x 40.5 cm, Ink on Gold Paper, (Image Courtesy of the Artist and Hanart TZ Gallery)

郑力,《怡园》,水墨 金笺,40.5 x 38 cm ,2012(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供) ZHENG Li,

郑力,《怡园》,水墨 金笺,40.5 x 38 cm ,2012(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供)
ZHENG Li, “The Garden of Pleasure (Yi Yuan)”, Ink on Gold Paper, 40.5 x 38 cm, 2012 (Image Courtesy of the Artist and Hanart TZ Gallery)

郑力,《拙政园》,水墨 金笺,38 x 45.5 cm,2011(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供) ZHENG Li,

郑力,《拙政园》,水墨 金笺,38 x 45.5 cm,2011(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供)
ZHENG Li, “The Humble Administrator’s Garden (Zhuozheng Yuan)”, Ink on Gold Paper, 38 x 45.5 cm, 2011 (Image Courtesy of the Artist and Hanart TZ Gallery)

郑力,《网师园》,水墨 金笺,38 x 45.5 cm,2008(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供) ZHENG Li,

郑力,《网师园》,水墨 金笺,38 x 45.5 cm,2008(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供)
ZHENG Li, “The Master of Nets Garden (Wangshi Yuan)”, Ink on Gold Paper, 38 x 45.5 cm, 2008 (Image Courtesy of the Artist and Hanart TZ Gallery)

郑力,《拙政园胜处》,水墨 金笺,38 x 45.5 cm,2008(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供) ZHENG Li,

郑力,《拙政园胜处》,水墨 金笺,38 x 45.5 cm,2008(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供)
ZHENG Li, “The Humble Administrator’s Garden (Zhuozheng Yuan)”, Ink on Gold Paper, 38 x 45.5 cm, 2008 (Image Courtesy of the Artist and Hanart TZ Gallery)

郑力,《拙政园》,水墨 金笺,38 x 45.5 cm,2011(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供) ZHENG Li,

郑力,《拙政园》,水墨 金笺,38 x 45.5 cm,2008(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供)
ZHENG Li, “The Humble Administrator’s Garden (Zhuozheng Yuan)”, Ink on Gold Paper, 38 x 45.5 cm, 2008 (Image Courtesy of the Artist and Hanart TZ Gallery)

郑力,《狮子林全图》,水墨 金笺,45.5 x 371 cm ,2016(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供) ZHENG Li,

郑力,《狮子林全图》,水墨 金笺,45.5 x 371 cm ,2016(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供)
ZHENG Li, “Panorama of Lion Grove Garden (Shizi Lin)”, Ink on Gold Paper, 45.5 x 371 cm, 2016 (Image Courtesy of the Artist and Hanart TZ Gallery)

郑力(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供) ZHENG Li (Image Courtesy of the Artist and Hanart TZ Gallery)

郑力(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供)
ZHENG Li (Image Courtesy of the Artist and Hanart TZ Gallery)

郑力在画室创作。(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供) ZHENG Li painting in his studio.

郑力在画室创作。(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供)
ZHENG Li painting in his studio.

1999年,第九届全国美术作品展上,郑力的《书香门第》获金奖,吴冠中先生颁奖。(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供) 9th National Exhibition of Fine Arts, ZHENG Li’s Aura of the Literati was awarded Gold medal, which was presented by the celebrated painter WU Guanzhong, 1999. (Image Courtesy of the Artist and Hanart TZ Gallery)

1999年,第九届全国美术作品展上,郑力的《书香门第》获金奖,吴冠中先生颁奖。(图片由艺术家及汉雅轩提供)
9th National Exhibition of Fine Arts, ZHENG Li’s Aura of the Literati was awarded Gold medal, which was presented by the celebrated painter WU Guanzhong, 1999. (Image Courtesy of the Artist and Hanart TZ Gallery)