When a new era begins, it's like a newly cultivated piece of land—it makes people hesitate. Especially for those who are diligent, especially for artists, they cannot bear the barrenness and always want to plant something.

But this time, sculptor Xiang Jing chose to stop. She chose silence, and she did so with firm resolve. I am curious about her choice, and the reasons behind it.

Xiang Jing, Advent, Exhibited at 798CUBE during the Beijing Art and Technology Biennale.

Xiang Jing has long been known for her meticulous planning—producing a high-quality solo exhibition every 2–3 years. For over two decades, she maintained an intense pace of sculptural creation. But after completing the monumental Adventin 2019, she abruptly stopped. Since then, she has distanced herself from the studio, occasionally reflecting on her work, and taken the liberty—at last—of a comfortable rest. The “workaholic” of the art world finally allowed herself a moment of indulgence.

Regarding this uncharacteristic pause, the key words she shared with me were: aphasia and ineffectiveness.

A sculpture suspended above reality attempts to strike a profound balance with the world through deep thematic inquiry. Yet this ancient medium, this cumbersome method, seems ultimately ineffective in the face of the 21st century’s fast-paced, disposable generation. Somewhere between expression and silence, she has posed a paradox—a mute riddle.

01. Sculptor Xiang Jing: “No One Sees It for Me”

In 2017, Xiang Jing held a major retrospective titled “No One Sees It for Me” at the Long Museum in Shanghai, showcasing nearly all her works from 1999 to 2016. Immersed in the vast space, she found herself returning to the exhibition week after week—taking photos and videos, observing how visitors engaged with the artworks, and cherishing those brief conversations when someone recognized her.

What puzzled her, however, was the disconnect between the two ends of the experience. On one end was the artist—meticulously preparing, doggedly pursuing her artistic vision: striving to create a space, a setting, a moment of direct confrontation between the work and the viewer. On the other end were the audience—relaxed, casually checking in, eager to find the best angle for a photo, capturing a harmonious moment between themselves and the art.

For the younger generation especially, the kind of deep emotional resonance the artist hoped for often seemed absent. The wandering felt aimless, and reflection too hurried. The emotional and psychological spaces opened within her sculptures—the core of what Xiang Jing had long been striving to create—often went unperceived. And if someone couldn’t see it, no matter how hard the artist tried, they simply wouldn’t.This paradox—between passionate expression and quiet failure to connect—seems to affirm the exhibition’s title: “No One Sees It for Me.”

Artists are not fragile, and audiences are not insensitive. The failure of communication between artwork and viewer stems from a shift in the fundamental questions of our time—this has become a new dilemma for successful artists.

In recent years, Xiang Jing has rarely created new works, and exhibitions have become even fewer. According to her, one reason is that sculpture as a medium struggles to capture fleeting moments. This ancient medium has always attempted to express something eternal, which makes it very difficult to reflect the condition of contemporary people. Another reason is that she is someone who frequently doubts herself. The intense emotions she once channeled into her work seem to have gradually diminished. Or perhaps, she is no longer as certain about the power of art itself. Within a market-driven consumer logic, one begins to question whether art truly holds such great power. If it’s not for survival or for selling something, what really drives artistic creation? What is the true value of art? How does one establish the value of one’s work, or of one’s life? For her, these remain open questions—ones that she must revisit and rethink.

02. "Observer Xiang Jing: Expression and Loss of Voice"

The impact brought by the new era of the internet has been immense, especially in terms of the transformation of public discourse platforms and environments. In the past, most voices on social media platforms came from elite intellectuals within the cultural sphere. However, the shift in environment has meant that these once authoritative voices were almost instantly replaced by a landscape where everyone can speak out.

This flood of urgent voices—too loud and too numerous—has broken through like a dam bursting, completely collapsing the previous order. Yet, it quickly descended into a newly formed chaos. This drastic loss of order has made many people feel out of place, and Xiang Jing is one of them.

Since the dawn of civilization, humanity has continuously repeated the process of moving from chaos to order—this very process is the history of human civilization itself. Amidst this noisy clamor, we are able to see many vibrant grassroots communities and hear their voices. The fact that these voices are increasingly seen, heard, and noticed is undoubtedly a sign of progress in our era.

Xiang Jing analyzes her own position within the current media environment as follows:
“Today’s news, information, and messages—I used to pay little attention to them. I am a typical person deeply influenced by elitist cultural consciousness. But I don’t rely on it, nor do I base my views on it. When I look at the world again with a fresher perspective, I realize that so much in this world doesn’t fit into the logic I once knew. It is a very immediate, very present state—a huge issue. But at the same time, I am at a loss for words.”

Details from Xiang Jing’s work ‘Otherworld — Over There’, “Xiang Jing & Xing Danwen: Gaze and Entanglement” exhibition at [Sòng] Art Center

People born in the 1960s and 1970s experienced a transition from the era of text, to the era of images, and then to the era of the entire internet—a wave of rapid changes. During this special period, they did not fully experience traditional Chinese culture, while Western advanced ideological and cultural systems pre-installed a set of knowledge for this generation. However, when faced with an even larger system, that once-reliable knowledge system started to fail.

Amid the noisy clamor, the stranded suffering, the struggles for survival, and the various issues faced by cultural circles like Xiang Jing’s can no longer be explained by textbook knowledge. This has driven her to re-examine and seriously consider this state of disorder. She says that this era is precisely a time when ordinary people can be seen.

Such visibility is invisible to elites. Although elites carry a kind of compassionate ideal, it cannot be realized within the elitist era. This is also why she feels it is truly important today to engage in deep reflection. This is progress brought by the internet age—the so-called era of intellectuals and elites indeed needs to come to an end.

Neither seeking solace in the old era nor expressing radical views in the new era, to pause is an act of courage.

03. “Silence — Xiang Jing: ‘Silence is an attitude.’”

When Xiang Jing paused her creative work, the pandemic struck. What was initially thought to be a brief crisis soon became a new normal. On the internet, people began to talk about how terrible things are, yet at the same time, they actively engaged in the very issues they complained about.

During this special period, one benefit of stepping outside her usual work logic for a while was the ability to observe—observe what is happening in this era, and notice things that might have been overlooked before.

Having rarely visited exhibitions lately, she recently went to see Geng Jianyi’s show and was quite excited, speaking enthusiastically about it. To her, today’s art has become largely ineffective; there are few works that truly shock or move her. Geng Jianyi is one of the exceptions. Perhaps this era is simply one in which order has been disrupted but not yet rebuilt. We can only wait, helplessly watching this state of disorder continue and accumulate. If one still holds a desire to rebuild, the first phase should be to learn, and the second to digest what has been learned.

"A River of Spring Water Flows East" — Exhibition scene of “Xiang Jing & Xing Danwen: Gaze and Entanglement” at [Sòng] Art Center

“To speak out for an era, as an artist, one must be highly sensitive and, ideally, sharp enough to reveal the underlying reasons behind the face of that era. But right now is really not a moment to rush to speak out—at least, that’s how I feel.”

Since globalization, today is actually a redistribution of social roles. In China’s cultural landscape, people are constantly moving; in this process of movement, they shed fixed identities and roots. You acquire a role, and at the same time, you are shaping your own identity. People are assigned—or fight for—roles within this kind of social structure and socialization process.

For Xiang Jing’s generation of artists, the ultimate questions used to be “Who am I? Where do I come from? Where am I going?” But in today’s art, these kinds of ultimate questions are rarely visible, and behind artworks, such questions are less often the foundation. Perhaps this reflects a change of era: those once ultimate questions have indeed become less “ultimate,” less “fatal.” They are no longer questions that must be pondered deeply.

The logic of today’s era 

somewhat contradicts the logic I accept, 

but that doesn’t mean the era is wrong—perhaps I am. 

So, I choose silence.                                                 

                                                                                                ”

The promotion of “individuality” has gradually become just another label for self-expression—leading to homogenization. From a human nature perspective, this is definitely unreliable; the so-called “just be yourself” is merely an illusion created by consumerism in a commercial society. Today is nothing but an era dominated by commercial logic—everything operates according to commercial and consumption logic. This includes art, which has in fact completely sunk into this quagmire of commercial logic. Commercial logic is the dominant logic and the ultimate standard.

Silence is her attitude—a way to respond to this commercial logic. Behind this attitude lies a stronger force: her ability to defend her silence. Because of this strength, she can distance herself from the studio and become an engaged observer. She can choose to say no to commercial logic, which is truly admirable and enviable.

04. “Ms. Xiang Jing: ‘Is it feminism？’”

“Feminism” is the question Xiang Jing is asked most often—and also the one she least wants to answer.

During the Industrial Revolution in the 1760s, under industrial society, men who owned the means of production became the producers and gradually gained political and economic power, while women became consumers. This division has continued to influence society up to the present. Since modernism, women’s awakening was first an awakening of the individual self. Only after concepts like “individual” and “self” emerged did female identity begin to flourish. The reason the feminist movement is increasingly difficult to discuss today is that it has become entangled in a complex social ecology—it is no longer simply a “women’s issue.”

“If we are to talk about women’s issues, it must be done sincerely and thoroughly, with the ability to go deep when needed. Feminism should not be turned into a label or a banner to wave. Only then will I not feel sad or guilty when discussing it. At the very least, I do not want to keep repeating my answers until they become clichés.” This has been Xiang Jing’s consistent attitude all along.

For Female

Xiang Jing, "Keeping Silence" series, 2003–2005

Xiang Jing engages in social production and artistic creation through her own experiences and issues as a woman. Adopting a questioning stance, she drives the most important force of feminism: the rejection of essentialist stereotypes. She genuinely looks at the world and gives voice to vulnerable groups. For her, sculpture is a gateway to the outside world. Through sculpture, she looks toward the Other, and in seeing the Other, she truly comes to know herself once again.

Her heart burns with passion for sculptural work. During this willful pause, she seeks a true driving force—one not swayed by personal relationships or fame and fortune, but propelled solely by passion, so she can sincerely embrace this vibrant, living present moment.

Text by: Wang Xingyu

Edited by: Phoebe Ng
Image Credits: [Sòng] Art Center, Artist

Author Bio:
Wang Xingyu, artist and veteran media professional