柴豫
Yu Chai creates art in 2D or 3D using watercolour, acrylic or random second-hand materials from daily life. His artwork is an exploration of self-awareness and self-identity; a search for logic in abstract thoughts and chaotic feelings and emotions; then visualised by static objects, organised and composed into stories. Colour itself and the texture of materials are put into consideration and emphasized in his works, as they interconnect different objects and imageries, much like how films guide the audience to seek subtle logical connections in the work, and guide their senses to reconstruct the unarticulated gist and thoughts before creation of the artwork.
CONTACTS
yuuuelmerrrtchai
©2023 CIMUYUXIANG
The Squid Habitat
2024; wasted fabrics
68cm; 22.5cm*22.5cm*41.5cm
Apologue,
Exertion
To the Grand lump.
Sparkles fleshy;
Combustion then gleaming.
Perspiration heavy;
Moist rustling,
Peeling and falling;
Tunnels and threads,
Sediments piling.
Final pass crimson;
Lump central of chamber.
Animals at war,
Teeth and crease.
Nothing's in peace.
寓言
游鱼
豫原
肉色火
烬微光
浸透
交融
剥离
下沉
腥红门窗
中央河床
动物性
牙
褶
不安息终了
Cubicle
Caged Genitalia
2022; foam padding
27cm*27cm*11.5cm
The Great Red Dragon and the Woman Clothed in Sun
2022; foil
9cm*9cm*10cm
Tunnel Survey
2022; adjustable plastic wax
18cm*18cm*2.5cm
Faith like stars
Scattered;
Lust with wings of horns
Untamed.
Blue tunnel darkening,
Red knots rushing;
Warts on operation table,
As ice stark cold.
Curled up petals of flower
With pale fangs devour;
Yet no reason to fear or hope for
The caged.
包裹着金色
破碎
张扬着欲望
上升
隧道深而暗
血流连相结
手术
冰冷
蜷缩着的瓣
被囚禁的骨
没有希望
没有恐惧
Hollowed
Infancy
2020; acrylic paint on paper
39cm*42cm
To the Pure
2020; acrylic paint on gauze
38cm*42cm
Youth
2021; acrylic paint on denim
36cm*36cm
Distances
2021; acrylic paint on ticket
31cm*31cm
He walks in right on time as usual. Hanging his coat on the rack he asks, “What’s all this about?”
“Just a whim, since I have nothing to do.”
“Well you do look like you need a job.”
We both know I hate words like this and it’s not long since I quit my job, and no, I don’t want another right now, I have other plans. The paper needs to get dry enough so I can do the final touch. Just before he could make further comment, I turn on the dryer, leaning to the bed where I always do. Between me and the bed there’s only the curtain dividing this narrow living space. I still can’t remember the reason we decided to get the curtain done here. Maybe we wanted the room to seem organised, but all I know is that everything was already jamming up and it didn’t get better. And now whenever I’m alone, my memories add to the crowd in this room.
Mind you, though, when I said I had other plans I didn’t mean the drying of course. I’m leaving for my parents and folks. The train takes more than four hours, that’s the main and maybe the only reason I don’t visit hometown a lot.
The visit becomes some kind of a long stay, and you know what I mean. That and maybe because of the graduation season, I can’t help let the recollection emerge again and again. Since I have all the time in the world now, it’s only reasonable to make use of it and find the answers to all my questions. I don’t know about anyone else but it seems that I’m always upset by my own words and deeds, recollection is always the first thing to do, and some kind of diagnosis procedure begins and loops. I have to form a theory, or find someone—other people if not me—to blame. No, no, I don’t want to blame anyone, it’s better just to form a theory.
So what happens quite often is me opening the box at the bottom of the shelf, there’s guilty pleasure to realise the dumbness one used to be and may still is after rummaging through all the postcards and photos in the box with exotic landscape print. I’m often drawn to the postcard with orange mark in an oddly irregular shape by design, but what does it mean? I couldn’t figure it out then or even now. It reminds me of an apology I owe, that’s for sure. And there’s an envelope I have to open every time to remember what it keeps.
As much as I enjoy being retrospective, my sense gets blurred when I stare at those pictures. Each of my face is becoming that of someone else I can’t recognise. Look at me making faces next to her and her smile, that’s where I get mine as I have now. Yet I almost forget how to make such faces anymore. Was I really so different back then like he vividly pictured? All of a sudden I have the urge to pull myself away from every fragment of my memory. The kid finishing off the list blithely and thinking of nothing else, or the boy in those worn-out jeans with saggy pockets, they’re not me, not even the one on both ends of the train tickets.
Did I manage to erase my existence and become a blank space? Will people still be there or things remain?
Anyway I have to close the box. I made a web, a map, and now I have to take it down and make a seal. And in that way, I understand him, I don’t need an answer after all.
他像往常一样准时到家，一边挂衣服一边问道：”这是在干什么？”
”一时兴起，闲的。”
”你还真是挺闲的。”
我讨厌别人这么说，他也知道我刚辞职，我才不要立马扎进一个新的工作，这在我的规划之外。他好像还有什么话要说，而画板上的拼贴还等着我烘干，我立马打开吹风机，就这样倚靠在床边不知道吹了多久，我和床之间仅仅挂着一层帘子，它把这个本就不大的房间分成了两半。我到现在也不明白我们当初为啥装这个帘子，可能是想看起来更整洁吧。这屋子里每个角落都挤在一起，这帘子更加让人喘不过气。他上班的时候我就在这拥挤的房间里与回忆做伴。
我有必要解释一下，我说的规划当然不是烘干作品这么简单。我要回家见我爸妈，和故乡的老友耍一耍。只是一趟高铁不止四个小时，我可坐不住，可能这就是我每年不怎么回家的原因吧。
很多人和我一样，一次回家探望变成了漫长的隔离。除此之外，毕业季的迷茫使我度日如年，我一闲下来就喜欢回忆往事。既然我真这么闲，那我不如好好利用这次机会从过去寻找一些答案。我不知道别人会怎么做，但我好像经常反思我的所作所为，当下的我看到了过去的影子，这时我会一遍又一遍地分析过往。我想把故事理顺，我想找出一切的罪魁祸首。算了，一定要去责怪自己或他人吗？简简单单讲个故事就好。
结果就是你能经常看到我从架子底层抽出一个盒子，在盒子里翻找明信片和老照片的过程中有一种令人尴尬的暗爽，盒子上的金字塔风景照带着一股非主流傻气。我很喜欢拿着其中一张明信片看很久，他在上面不知道做了什么图案，我到现在也没弄清楚。但可以肯定的是，每当我看到它，我就会想起我的任性和做作。这还放着一个鼓起来的信封，我每次需要往里边儿瞅一眼才会想起它装的是啥。
每天的怀旧让我逐渐麻木。我看着每张照片里的我，却越来越觉得陌生。看她旁边做着鬼脸的小孩，长大的我倒更像照片里的她，脸上只是带着微笑。我都快忘了怎么做鬼脸。他每次提到小时候的我都绘声绘色，我很好奇当时的我真的很不一样吗？我突然迫切地需要从回忆抽离。那个无忧无虑做着作业的我，穿着破旧牛仔裤的我，他们都不是我，在上海和南京来回跑的也不是我。
我想把我的存在抹除。那样的话，一切会有什么不同吗，他们还会出现吗？
最终我还是关上了这个盒子。我把回忆串起又拆开，我还得想办法封存起来。这样一来，或许我会更了解自己，问题也就不需要有什么答案。
Floor plan
2022; socks
19.5cm*27.5cm
There the screen stands between the living room and the balcony.
I wander and touch on the floor. I have the bedroom, the kitchen, the living room, and with just a few more steps I can finally have the balcony done, the sky awaits. But the screen is heavily frayed and stands between the living room and the balcony.
The net is fine, through the screen I see the cerulean in watercolour. But the net is heavily frayed, I can’t slide the screen open so I wait. The waiting lasts too long it becomes a drag. My impatience scratches the net and finally it breaks, a big hole stands between the living room and the balcony.
They have the screen with less finer net. Through the screen I see the cerulean in mosaic. Now the net is thick, I can’t slide the screen open so I wait. There the screen stands between the living room and the balcony.
I wander and touch on the floor of the living room, I must slide the screen open and have the balcony done, the sky awaits.
纱窗隔在客厅和阳台之间。
我尝试记下房间的每一寸。卧室，厨房，客厅，下一步就到阳台去，外面的天空等着我。但纱窗磨破了，隔在客厅和阳台之间。
网眼很细密，透过纱窗我看到水彩一般的蓝。但纱窗磨破了，我无法打开它，所以我等啊等。直到我等得不耐烦，抓破了纱窗。损毁的纱窗隔在客厅和阳台之间。
他们装了粗网眼的纱窗。透过纱窗我看到马赛克一般的蓝。纱窗变得如此沉重，我无法打开它，所以我等啊等。纱窗隔在客厅和阳台之间。
我尝试记下客厅的每一寸，我必须打开纱窗到阳台去，外面的天空等着我。
Slender
2023; watercolour
31cm*23cm
Gluttony
Venous
Sobster
I heard if you were not set up with a partner in time, you wouldn’t remain as a qualified citizen.
My big round eyes glaring, beard whipping up high like Dalí, I turn lobster. I must’ve been like this for too long, my boiling shell dissolves, flesh reveals in cool tone.
Still, the fire of my loin brightens, scorching the damp air between ribs, I turn viper. Bamboo green scales and red dots get tangled with hair flowing black and long. They’ve been searching for the fruit guarded in the monastery or the temple in zodiac.
A ball of fur crawls silently on the carpet down the stairs in pale moon light, I turn ogre. I must starve myself then get cranky and desperate, gnaw on food wrapper to be happy again, to see mermaid tails shooting from coconut nourishment.
They don’t want bones to chew, they like to see curves on Greek statues, staying so positive and claiming healthy concepts. I’m left with stiffened bones, standing pretentiously with chopstick limbs, hair dry and fussy. Thus, they think I do it all on purpose and just for show.
他们说，你不能一边在孤独中煎熬，一边嘲讽这个世界不能忍受寂寞。
我变成达利的龙虾，瞪大灯笼一样发光的眼睛，扬起鞭子一样的胡须。不知道从什么时候开始，我滚烫的躯壳被溶解，露出冰冷的肉体。
这只会让我的欲望更强烈，像一条绕立在维纳斯身上蓄势待发的竹叶青。腥红的眼在通体的黑发间若隐若现，灼烧每根肋骨间的阴暗潮湿。它在寻找禁果，不管是闯进了东方的庙宇还是黄道上的宫殿。
我会爬下狭窄的台阶，无声地匍匐在地毯上，化身饿鬼觅食，在月光最静谧的时候竖起每一根干枯黯淡的毛。我非要饿其体肤苦其心志，才终于允许自己一颗糖果，它足以让我有兴致把椰子苗当作人鱼的尾巴，被想象的快乐麻痹。
人们把骨头扔给狗，自己去抚摸爱神，宣扬每一条健康正确的法则。我只剩排骨，浑身的做作，干瘪的脑子。不怪他们觉得我招摇过市。