Interview with Dong Jinling
1.As a conceptual artist, each of your solo exhibitions is guided by a complete conceptual direction, from the theme to the works. When we decided to present this exhibition in the summer, how did you construct the theme for this exhibition?
After understanding the attributes and structure of CHAPTER 6's space, I decided to use 'Workers' as the foundational tone of production and gestation, and extended a new series of works from there. 'River' was developed under this conceptual premise through repeated deliberation. The productive body is also an issue I have consistently focused on. Extending from the everyday life reflected in Worker to the universally existing realities in Valley, I connected and intertextualized the shared concepts between the two series of works.
2. Your media span performance, sculpture, painting, photography, and video. In this exhibition, your new series River adopts painting as its form. Why did you choose this approach?
Painting possesses a stronger sense of materiality. For this series, I had to dedicate a significant amount of time meticulously refining the light, shadow, brushstrokes, and imagery myself, solidifying the labor time into a visible form. Through this, I delved deeper into the fate of the depicted subjects. The earthy tones (ochre, yellow oxide, taupe) that dominate this series are not only the realistic palette of farms but also the underlying tones of concealed lives. The imagery simulates the standardized templates of industrialized farming, with repeated perspectives and proportions to emphasize uniformity. This repetition diminishes playfulness and presents a sense of archival seriousness. The record books of dairy cows' production and sales are transformed into artistic carriers, forcing the audience to confront the exploitation of these concealed lives.
3. You mentioned that the River series is also a response and extension of your earlier work Dong Jinling. From maternal nurturing to social production, could you elaborate on your ongoing exploration of this direction?
I have a personal connection to both maternal nurturing and social production. My works are a response to these experiences and a voice, a form of accusation. Repeated accusations form experience, and my exploration of this field is guided by sensations, feelings, and experiences—transforming personal pain into a practice of collective testimony. The earlier work Dong Jinling embodies the intimate reality of my identity as a mother, as an act of nurturing. In contrast, 'River' reflects the mechanized and industrialized exploitation of thousands of breasts, as an act of production. How is it that we construct and celebrate the myth of motherhood while simultaneously degrading the same physiological function in other bodies into industrial production? I can only identify humanity's cruelty and the absurdity of reality within this tragedy.
4. This exhibition juxtaposes your River series with your ongoing series Workers, which you started in 2023 and have continued to this day. You’ve mentioned that as long as you continue to work as a laborer, this series will persist. What was the initial impetus for creating this series? Its timeline is deeply tied to your personal life—what is the significance of this prolonged temporal dimension for both the work and yourself?
As long as I remain a worker, this work will continue. The pelvis, as a symbol of life and labor, becomes a ritual of resistance through its monthly casting. This transforms repetitive labor (factory work) into another form of repetitive labor (artistic creation). Every month, an iron or bronze pelvis is cast as a monument to advocate not only for me but for all laborers like me. Over time, the repeated casting will form a vast matrix—a silent poem. Additionally, the right side of the Worker sculpture is marked with the monthly income from labor, which, in essence, is the same measurable and tradable production data as the milk output of mechanized cows.
5. Regardless of the medium, your works often evoke a restrained tone, even carrying a sense of silent detachment. Why do you present this atmosphere in your creations?
I tend to maintain a restrained narrative distance because overly emotional expressions can constitute a form of violence. Silence and detachment are the foundation of my work. Silence avoids being overly noisy, while detachment leads to a sense of ritual. This ritual is not intended to elevate art or isolate myself but rather to leave space for the audience to feel how art is rooted in reality.
6. As an artist, you rarely appear on social media or participate in interviews, especially video interviews. You seem to deliberately maintain a sense of distance. You’ve mentioned before that you hope to remain hidden among the crowd as a laborer. Why do you think this is important?
I don’t need my face or voice to be remembered. When viewers stand in front of my works, they will realize that the true author never left; they simply chose to stand in the shadows.
7. You live and work in Beijing, but this is your first solo exhibition in Shanghai. What are your expectations for it?
I dare not harbor many expectations, and I feel somewhat apprehensive. I just hope my works do not disappoint the audience in Shanghai. I pay tribute to every person who attends and to those who do not.