“I Betrayed Him and the Fate of Becoming Him” by Yongzhen Li is part of Li’s solo exhibit – Structures of the Unsaid – at the Zack Gallery. (photo from Yongzhen Li)
On March 5, the Zack Gallery opened its first solo exhibition by a non-Jewish artist in years. Called Structures of the Unsaid, it presents the work of Yongzhen Li, a recent immigrant from China. By coincidence, it is also Li’s first solo show, and the show’s name reflects the artist’s feelings about his native China’s patriarchal culture and collectivist society.
“The art committee and I asked Li to be part of the Zack Gallery exhibitions over a year ago,” said Sarah Dobbs, the gallery’s curator.
“His talent, the way he handles the surface of the paper and the themes that we felt resonate with the Jewish community were the primary reasons for selecting him for a solo show,” she said. “The way he works – using ink, rice paper and mugwort water, which stains the surface before the image appears – reflects his deep skills as an artist. This was the primary pull for us to exhibit him. In addition, the water residue acts as a form of embodied memory, recalling the imperative to remember – the surface carries what cannot be seen.
“His practice emerges from absence, where the creation of each piece is a gesture of repair within fracture, like a quiet form of tikkun, a concept found in the Zohar,” she explained. “Painting is how he wrestles, remembers and remakes meaning. So, the conceptual nature of his work, combined with his skills, was a no-brainer. The committee and I just immediately voted him yes!”
Li and his wife, Jiamin, came to Canada in 2024, settling in Oshawa, Ont.
“I like the food here – so many Asian groceries,” he said with a smile. “But language is hard for me. It’s always been so, even before we came here. Language has always felt too thin. The words seem to flatten what I feel, while images allow it to remain alive.” That’s why he asked his wife to act as his interpreter during his interview with the Independent.
Li’s road to the arts was not simple.
“My father is a petroleum worker,” he said. “And so was his father before him. It is traditional in China that a son follows his father’s work. It is a good job, with a decent pay, and it was already arranged for me after I graduated, but I didn’t want to do it. I always felt like an outsider in my family. I didn’t want to know my future for the next 50 years. I knew it wouldn’t make me happy. I wanted to do art. I wanted to be free in my choices.”
That was his first rebellion, his first step against the established routine, but not his last.
“I was about 13 at the time…. By Chinese tradition, children of artists who follow their fathers into art start their artistic training at 6. I was already too old, but I needed to do it. Otherwise, I felt that I had nothing of my own. Fortunately, I had a good art teacher at school,” said Li, adding with a grin: “And I became popular with my classmates.”
His next step upon graduation was the Academy of Fine Art in Xi’an, one of the largest cities in China, with an ancient history and a long artistic tradition. The famous Terracotta Army, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, is located just outside the city. The Xi’an academy is considered one of the best art schools in China, but Li didn’t like his time there.
“There was no creative freedom,” he said. “The professors were rigid, wanted me to copy them, to follow their instructions without thinking. It didn’t work for me.”
Once more, Li went against the established mode. He quit the academy and found a job to support himself and his wife. He worked with social media while teaching himself to be an artist.
“People thought I was crazy to quit,” he said. “My parents wouldn’t help financially – they didn’t approve of my actions. Besides, they were getting a divorce. And I was already married – we met at the academy. Jiamin was also a student there.”
When COVID struck, the young couple experienced the restrictions that were placed on people worldwide.
“We became all isolated, had to stay at home,” Li recalled. “But we watched lots on the internet, especially YouTube videos. In China, the world internet is not available – it is illegal there to access YouTube or Google or Facebook. Chinese people have their own limited internet version, allowed by the government, but many young people ignore those restrictions and download apps to watch the real internet. We did too and we learned a lot. We could finally see for ourselves how the world worked. We decided to emigrate to Canada.”
Canada was a revelation to Li. “I’m free here,” he said.
To make ends meet, Li works for a delivery company, but, in his spare time, he continues to paint and learn, and his art evolves. When he lived in China, his themes tended to be narrow, tied to certain events or ideas, but his latest imagery explores more complex issues of identity, memory and resistance.
“Art has become my emotional refuge as well as a method of self-liberation,” he said.
It also allows him to process his inner tension and vulnerability, as he struggles for personal and creative autonomy. His large painting “Underground World,” finished in the past month, is symbolic of his current trend of using traditional Chinese motifs and media to address contemporary and universal topics.
The painting looks like a collage, denoting the artist’s inner journey; many aspects intertwine and contradict one another. Family history versus personal fragility. Government direction versus private uncertainty.
“I am not searching for villains. I am dismantling systems,” Li says in his artist statement. “I refer to structures that appear normal: family control, humiliation disguised as education, and forms of care that carry hidden violence. Tragedy most often happens not through cruelty, but through what is socially justified, well-intentioned and unquestioned.”
As for his life in Canada, Li said, “I’m thinking of taking some art classes here. There is so much choice, so much freedom for an artist.”
Structures of the Unsaid is on display until April 13. To learn more about Li, visit his website, yongzhenli.com.
Olga Livshin is a Vancouver freelance writer. She can be reached at [email protected].