Jinling Art Museum
Jinling Art Museum, located at No. 50 Jianzi Alley, Laomendong, Qinhuai District, Nanjing, is a comprehensive art institution devoted to exhibition, collection, and research. Its overall design was led by a renowned Chinese designer. The guiding concept was to preserve the original character of the industrial heritage site while making thoughtful adjustments to the interior structure and maximizing the use of space to meet the needs of modern exhibition practices. At the same time, the building’s exterior incorporates distinct elements of local culture.
The museum typically features five exhibition halls plus one memorial hall dedicated to the Jinling School of Painting. When I visited today, the memorial hall was hosting At Ease in the Empty Mountains—An Exhibition of Le Quan’s Works, showcasing the calligraphy of Mr. Le Quan. Since that was not my main focus, I will not dwell on it here.
On the first floor are Halls 1 and 2. Hall 1 was hosting a commemorative exhibition of painting and calligraphy, centered mainly on traditional Chinese painting, with some oil paintings, sculptures, and calligraphic works included as well. The themes all revolved around contemporary Nanjing or Jiangsu—its cityscapes, scenery, and humanistic spirit. Apart from a few works depicting mountains, rivers, and classical gardens, most of the Chinese paintings belonged to the currently popular school of innovative ink art, with some pieces even resembling illustration-style “new guohua.” How shall I put it? Other than the finale piece placed in the innermost central position—a forceful and majestic ink landscape—along with one exquisitely detailed painting of a Jiangsu garden and another depicting the Yuhuatai scenic area with lingering atmosphere and vivid vitality, the rest did not leave much of an impression on me.
Hall 2, however, was much more intriguing. It featured a group exhibition of works by female artists under the banner of “art healing.” Compared with the more avant-garde installations, the sculptures and paintings resonated with me most. The works of women artists did indeed feel more delicate and gentle. Whether in the shy liveliness of a sculpture of a young girl, the shifting metamorphosis of light and shadow in video art, or the fresh and tender palette of watercolor paintings, perhaps this quality is precisely what makes “healing” feel so deeply comfortable. One participatory installation was especially memorable: a narrow crack split down the middle of a black panel several meters long. On the table lay many pale pink and white petals, and visitors were invited to choose petals and use clay to mend the fissure, experiencing the sensation of a wound healing. To be honest, a blood-red “gash” against a black ground, plastered with uneven petals, did not make me feel particularly “healed” or “comforted.” But visually, it certainly packed a punch.
Elevating to the third floor, I arrived at Hall 3, which was hosting the exhibition Crossing the River—Chants Along the Yangtze Through Young Eyes. The moment one steps inside, the blue world created jointly by light, shadow, and installation art immerses one. Together with the background calls of the Yangtze finless porpoise, it immediately draws the viewer into the embrace of China’s greatest river, stretching more than 6,000 kilometers. The exhibition consisted primarily of installation and light-based works, with a smaller number of paintings, and presented both the surging force of the Yangtze, from glacier to East China Sea, and the charm of the cities and landscapes along its banks. Overall, it was a highly beautiful exhibition, both visually and atmospherically.
Finally, I made my way to the fourth floor, where Halls 4 and 5 displayed works by two locally born masters of Chinese painting: Wu Yi and Zhu Daoping. Their artistic styles could hardly have been more different. Mr. Wu’s works are composed almost entirely through line, with none of the traditional texturing strokes or color application associated with classical Chinese painting. From a distance, they appear astonishingly vivid; up close, however, they seem like casual line sketches dashed off in passing. That contrast is genuinely delightful. Mr. Zhu’s paintings, by contrast, align more closely with traditional aesthetics. Whether in his screen paintings or fan paintings, one sees the techniques and effects of classical Chinese art: delicacy infused with vigor and ruggedness animated by inner spirit. Mr. Zhu is especially adept at using ink dots; these textured touches enliven the entire composition. Both artists possess a distinctly personal style, and both are well worth studying and appreciating.
A full visit to Jinling Art Museum generally takes about two hours, and admission is free throughout. Another point worth mentioning is its location: it sits right beside the famous scenic area of Laomendong, home to a splendid cluster of Qinhuai-style architecture. It is also adjacent to the Nanjing Ming City Wall, which is listed as a World Cultural Heritage site. That area, too, is absolutely worth strolling through—slowly, thoughtfully, and with eyes wide open.
Comments