Like the shepherds in Poussin's “Arcadia”, we approached the marble stele, worn with age. Our fingers gently traced the intricate design. “Xiang Yun” said my friend Feng JiaLi. The marble, possibly from the Ming Dynasty renovations of the ancient temple complex, was as enigmatic for me as the inscription was for Poussin's shepherds.

 

Xiang Yun. Auspicious Clouds. Maybe simply interpreted as good luck, clouds are also the bearer of omens. In English, every cloud has a silver lining but dark clouds appearing on the horizon bring with them change, and not always for the better. Clouds are also seen as the receptacle of our dreams. Gazing overhead, above the rooftops, we watch them drift by.

 

Where is the fervor of the dreams of our youth? The fires of passion do not burn endlessly. At one end of this exhibition/ installation is a red political style banner that translates “Do Dreams Grow Old And Die?” The wall behind the banner is covered with telephone numbers, about the only graffiti I have ever seen in China. Everything is for sale in this new economy, and everything is just a phone call away. In the center of the gallery is the wooden frame of a traditional village house, its bare bones embracing an old bed and a quilt rolled up at its feet. Monochromatic paintings of clouds line another wall. A large painting of a Maoist era jacket is also hung.

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