Yan Jun is a sound artist and poet. He has participated in exhibitions such as Seoul International Media Art Biennale 2006, and in China Power Station I at Battersea Power Station and has published several books and collections of poetry. Yan Jun was born in 1973 in Lanzhou, and lives and works in Beijing.
Three questions to Yan Jun
Caroline Elgh, Assistant Curator: China is moving forwards in many ways, and this seems to be on the agenda for a lot of people in Sweden as well as in other European countries. When I think of how fast China has changed to become an important part of globalisation I want to ask you how you as an artist get involved and drawn into the country’s economical and social changes. How does it affect your art?
Yan Jun: I have been diligently trying to maintain a distance from this rapidly changing society so that I can better observe and understand it. But the fact remains that I cannot help but be involved in and be influenced by it. Take Beijing (where I’ve been living for the past nine years) as an example: it is increasingly looking like a city right out of a cyberpunk science-fiction novel, like a living being constantly in a state of flux; I am infected by the noise and energy from within, and my own existence is spread across my physical body, society and the virtual world. The anxiety, desolation and identity crisis brought about by social change are, to me, also massive sources of potential.
My works have also gone through a lot of impulse, experimentation and changes. At the end, I have learnt to accept this reality, and that is: you cannot but be part of this world, and this world is also part of you (as if it is a new organ); despite the number of bewildering changes and complexities in understanding, there is still some sort of innate order at work.
Caroline Elgh: The Chinese art scene has developed and spread rapidly the last years and this has had a huge impact on the rest of the art world. What would you say are the possibilities for Chinese artists today compared to let’s say 10, 20 years ago? Today, what can you do and what can you not do?
Yan Jun: Chinese artists today are working in an even narrower and smaller space than before. In the past, everything was possible because you could never anticipate anything; today, everything is still possible, because everything can be planned. The reason why today’s Chinese artists still feel replete with potential is that they are living in a country that is uncertain and full of possibilities. To put it in another way, if our potential originates mainly from our environment rather than from ourselves, then no matter how much potential there is, it will have a limit at some point.
There are already a lot of things that I can do today, and therefore I cannot do too many things.
Caroline Elgh: China has a very long history and in this exhibition at Bonniers Konsthall more traditional techniques like calligraphy are evident. On the other hand, the development in China is moving forward very fast and in the exhibition we also see works that involve advanced new technology. Do you in some sense relate to Chinese history and future in your work?
Yan Jun: My works will of course touch upon China’s history and future in some way or another. They could even touch upon the history and future of Ethiopia if you wish. However, “China,” “history” and “future” are not explicitly materials that I use for my work. The reality is that all those who use these materials to create their work do not have a major relationship with “China,” “history” and “future,” but are rather playing a different kind of game.
What I’m trying to say is that my personal existence is that which is involved in China’s history and future. The way I listen, the way I utilize software, the way I envision the sonic world of ancient people whilst in this cacophonous world I inhabit – these are all related to tradition, and by necessity, because they concern the contemporary world, they are therefore related to the future. Sometimes I wonder: how would a Chinese person playing the piccolo in ancient times, or one listening to the sounds of the rain, use digital recording equipment today to document the rumble of a speeding truck? Or how would he or she use his or her voice to transform a poem into a series of sound that will vanish the moment it is emitted? How would he or she get involved in this new era through the process of listening and change?