“Matthew Wong – Vincent Van Gogh”: Curator Beyer on Emotional Landscapes at Kunsthaus Zürich

Art reflects the human experience, and every artist has their muse. Both Matthew Wong, a Chinese-Canadian contemporary art painter who tragically passed away in 2019, and Vincent van Gogh grappled with psychological struggles, yet at the same time found inspiration from their introspective journeys. They channeled their emotions into vibrant works of art, using nature as a powerful muse to express their inner thoughts. Through their creations, they found hope and strength, transforming pain into profound beauty and creating powerful legacies.

Entitled “Matthew Wong – Vincent Van Gogh: Painting as a Last Resort,” Kunsthaus Zürich’s latest show is a traveling exhibition originating from Amsterdam’s Van Gogh Museum. Juxtaposing both artists’ creations, the show invites viewers to explore shared themes of struggle and beauty, and each artists’ quest for meaning. Inspired by van Gogh among many others, Wong drew from his own experiences and emotions to create canvases that resonate with deep feelings of isolation and longing.

RADII chatted with Jonas Beyer, curator of Kunsthaus Zürich, to delve deeper into the meaning and inspirations behind the exhibition.

Wong’s Starry Night, 2019. Image via Matthew Wong Foundation and ProLitteris, Zürich. 

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Throughout the exhibition, Kunsthaus Zürich created visual axes so that Wong and van Gogh’s works can be compared with each other in terms of perspective. Image via Franca Candrian (Kunsthaus Zürich) and ProLitteris, Zürich. 

Unlikely Parallels

Wong initially aspired to be a banker and then a photographer, but he shifted his path when he encountered painting as an intern for the Hong Kong pavilion at the Venice Biennale in 2011. This experience inspired him to start painting, a medium through which he has created over 1,000 pieces. Living a reclusive life, he found stimulation in his imagination and watching films, which influenced his work. Grappling with mental health issues, he described painting as a “last resort” — ultimately discovering it as the best means to express his thoughts and the inherent loneliness of contemporary life. Tragically, Wong’s life was cut short when he committed suicide at the age of 35 in 2019.

Van Gogh, the renowned Dutch Master, faced his own tumultuous journey as he sought to develop his artistic voice. After moving to Paris and later southern France, he drew inspiration from the ebullient landscapes around him, using vibrant colors and dynamic brushwork to convey his emotional experiences. Despite his immense talent shown in more than 2,000 artworks including around 900 paintings, van Gogh struggled with mental health challenges and feelings of alienation. While there is academic debate over the cause of his death, van Gogh is commonly believed to have succumbed to his own battles with depression at the age of 37.

Both artists had difficulties fitting in socially. As curator Beyer notes, “Even though they both worked in relative isolation, they found ways to keep in touch with the art world: van Gogh did this through letters, while Wong used social media such as Facebook.” 

Van Gogh’s Le Cyprès et l’Arbre en fleurs (Wheat Field with Cypresses), 1889. Image via Private Collection and Kunsthaus Zürich. 
The Dutch Master’s Deux Paysannes (Two Peasant Women), 1890. Image via Emil Bührle Collection and Kunsthaus Zürich. 
Wong’s See You On the Other Side, 2019. Image via Matthew Wong Foundation and ProLitteris, Zürich.  

A Dialogue of Landscapes

Beyer explains, “We know that Wong studied van Gogh intensively. There are striking parallels both in terms of the motifs and the respective biographies.” The curator added that it made sense, therefore, to have these two artists engage in a dialogue. This connection is particularly evident in their landscape paintings, which serve as a focal point of the exhibition.

While flowers, such as Wong’s sunflowers, are also present as a motif, the primary emphasis on landscapes reflects how both artists poured their entire selves into these works. As Beyer notes, “If you want to see how both artists completely devoted themselves to painting, then you have to look at their landscapes.” The landscapes not only showcase their artistic dedication but also encapsulate their emotional journeys.

In contrast to the beauty of floral subjects, the landscapes convey a sense of isolation and immersion in the grandeur of the natural world. Both Wong and van Gogh used these expansive settings to express their inner turmoil, inviting viewers to connect with their feelings of loneliness and longing.

Van Gogh’s Champ de blé aux bleuets (Wheat Field with Cornflowers), 1890. Image via Fondation Beyeler Riehen/Basel, Beyeler Collection and Kunsthaus Zürich. 
Wong’s Coming of Age Landscape, 2018. Image courtesy of HomeArt and ProLitteris, Zürich.  

Locating and Placing Artworks

Beyer faced significant challenges in curating this exhibition. First, obtaining paintings by the Dutch Master on loan is no easy feat, but the presence of some top-class works in Switzerland made it more feasible. Additionally, a logistical hurdle arose from the differing aesthetics: “Van Gogh’s pieces often come with Old Master frames, while Wong’s artworks adhere to a white cube aesthetic.” This contrast presented a unique challenge in creating a cohesive visual narrative for the exhibition.

The presentation of artworks is also noteworthy. “We have not hung the works of both artists directly next to each other. Instead, we have created visual axes so that the works can be compared with each other in terms of perspective.” This thoughtful arrangement allows viewers to engage with the pieces dynamically, fostering a deeper understanding of both artists’ creative approaches.

“I am fascinated by Wong’s Coming of Age (2018) landscape, where he creates a dreamlike atmosphere using almost abstract character abbreviations in the lower part of the picture, while the upper part is dominated by a majestic, symbolically rich, life-giving sun,” explains Beyer. The curator added that Wong’s ability to evoke complex emotions through his landscapes invites viewers into a reflective space, allowing them to engage with feelings of introspection and beauty.

In parallel, van Gogh’s works, such as his Champ de blé aux bleuets (Wheat Field with Cornflowers, 1890), loaned from the Fondation Beyeler in Switzerland, exhibit a similar emotional depth. “These paintings appear almost abstract, depicting the fields like an undulating carpet, inviting viewers to experience the fervor of the painter in every brushstroke.”

Together, their artworks communicate a powerful message: art can be a refuge and a means of understanding oneself and the world. The exhibition encourages viewers to reflect on their own experiences and the ways in which art can provide solace and connection. As Beyer notes, “Both artists created highly accessible art,” inspiring visitors to explore their own creative voices. Young visitors can learn that expressing oneself and finding a calling in creativity is within reach.

Van Gogh’s La Maison du Père Pilon (The House of Father Pilon), 1889. Image via Private Collection and Kunsthaus Zürich. 
Wong’s The Realm of Appearances, 2018. Image via Private Collection and ProLitteris, Zürich. 
Wong’s The West, 2017. Image via Dallas Museum of Art, Dallas Art Fair Foundation Acquisition Fund and ProLitteris, Zürich. 

This upcoming exhibition at Kunsthaus Zürich serves as a powerful reminder of the importance of following one’s calling in the face of adversity. Beyer explains that both artists embodied this philosophy in their work, “According to the motto, be who you are; no one else can be that for you.” Both artists, despite their struggles, found their voices through art, leaving a legacy that continues to inspire.

Through their works, Wong and van Gogh remind all of us that even in our darkest moments, creativity can illuminate our experiences and connect us to the world around us.

Kunsthaus Zürich’s “Matthew Wong Vincent Van Gogh: Painting as a Last Resort” exhibition will run from September 20, 2024, to January 26, 2025.

Banner image via Kunsthaus Zürich.

China’s Yardang Landscapes Inspire a New Fashion Trend on Social Media

A yardang, its name derived from a Turkic word meaning “steep bank,” is a wind-eroded landform with elongated ridges. Found in northwest China in areas like the Gobi Desert and Qaidam Basin, these geographic features are formed by strong winds shaping softer rocks. But now, Yardangs have, perhaps surprisingly, become a buzzword on Chinese social media, describing the latest fashion trend. 

Recently, Douyin fashion influencer 白昼小熊 Daylight Bear posted a video with the hashtag 雅丹风 (yǎdān fēng, Yardang Style). This trend features earthy color palettes such as dark brown and red, evoking a fashion sense reminiscent of what people living in a desert environment might wear. 

Known for pioneering the “Dopamine Dressing” trend, Daylight Bear is now leading her more than 10 million followers towards Yardangs. Other fashion bloggers and celebrities have jumped on this trend, while Tourism Bureaus in northwest China are shooting promotional videos that showcase Yardang Style on location at real Yardangs. 

Earlier this year, Guangzhou streetwear brand Personsoul unveiled a Dune-inspired collection called “The Ancient City of Sunset.” It featured raw, deconstructed styles and punk makeup. Video by RADII
Influencer Daylight Bear wearing a Yardang style outfit. Screenshot via Douyin.
Rock formations in Gobi Desert, Yardang National Park. Image via Wild Wonders of China

Yardang Style draws inspiration from the landform’s earthy tones, with brown and red as the main colors. Much like the Maillard Style trend which blew up in 2023, these shades are suitable for fall and winter. That style took its inspiration from Maillard reaction, the browning process that occurs when proteins and sugars are cooked. 

Beyond brown and red, Yardang Style outfits also feature related color tones such as caramel, khaki, dark brown, tan, and orange. On major fashion runways, Yardang-inspired designs feature clean, sharp cuts and oversized silhouettes. Makeup is also a key element, typically in shades of brown, leading to a style called “vivid brown.”

Fashion and design bloggers share Yardang Style color palettes. Photo via Xiaohongshu

Since its inspiration comes from desert landscapes, some netizens have compared Yardang Style to the aesthetic of the movie Dune. Reflecting the strength of Dune’s female characters, many fans of Yardang Style are seek to channel their ideal image of a strong 地母 (dì mǔ, Earth Mother) figure, hoping to project a sense of power through their outfits.

Time will tell if the Yardang Style will break through into the mainstream, as its potential to captivate a wider audience remains to be seen. Yet it’s certainly interesting that influencers who are creating fashion trends tend to link the style with female empowerment.

The headscarves worn by female characters in the movie Dune have become a key element of Yardang style outfits. Photo via Warner Bros.

Banner image via Xiaohongshu.

5 Malaysian Artists Bringing New Voices to the Local Creative Scene

Art might not be the first thing that crops up in conversations about Malaysia –– news flash: it’s often food –– but the Southeast Asian nation’s creative scene is growing, with Kuala Lumpur acting as a hub for discovering new artists and nurturing established ones. Independent art spaces are popping up in locations around the city (one of which we recently featured here), each providing local artists room to showcase their works. In this list, we feature five artists and collectives who are expressing their unique perspectives and styles through different mediums, while all reflecting on their identities as Malaysians.

Tep York

A multi-disciplinary contemporary artist who first garnered attention as a skater, skate filmmaker, and clothing brand owner, Tep York employs a conceptual and practical approach to his projects. Often tongue-in-cheek and injected with social commentary, Tep’s practice takes everyday objects and turns them into installations or even practical accessories. Most recently, he repurposed welding gloves from hardware stores as sling bags and power sockets as a chair. He has also showcased Malaysia’s mat rempit culture through multicolored motorcycle helmets — for context, mat rempit refers to individuals who take part in illegal motorcycle racing.

Image via Tep York on Instagram.

Pangrok Sulap

A collective consisting of Indigenous artists from the Dusun and Murut clans of Borneo, Pangrok (the local pronunciation of “punk rock”) Sulap (a kind of “hut” used by farmers in Sabah) advocates for marginalized communities in East Malaysia with thought-provoking messages inscribed on woodblock prints. For instance, The Falls Of The Evolution (2019) features a combination of four woodblocks prints, each portraying the decay of the current world due to persistent industrialization, war, and consumerism.

Image via Pangrok Sulap on Instagram.

Ang Xia Yi

Inspired by the culmination of her experiences and upbringing as a Chinese Malaysian growing up in the city, 28-year-old Ang Xia Yi combines soft color palettes with imagery and textiles that bring back memories of domestic products from yesteryear, such as napkins and kitchen cheesecloths. In June, she participated in the exhibition “Inventory of Intimacies” at KL’s The Back Room, alongside two other emerging artists also working with textiles, Cheong See Min and Nia Khalisa. For her piece in the show, Ang chose fabrics collected by families over generations or found at old shops, then used these materials to recreate family photographs.

Image via Ang Xia Yi on Instagram.

Marcos Kueh

Look closely at Borneo native Marcos Kueh’s art, and you’ll notice a vivid exploration of cultural identity, storytelling, and textile craftsmanship. He merges weaving techniques with contemporary themes, often reflecting his Chinese Malaysian heritage through intricate patterns and symbolic motifs on long pieces of fabric, blending Chinese iconography with Bornean design language. In 2023, Kueh staged the exhibition, “Kenyalang Circus” in KL. In the show, he confronted the exoticization and commercialization of his home state of Sarawak using woven postcards, with hornbills as the satirical subjects. Characterized by a long, down-curved bill, the hornbill is the symbol of Sarawak in more ways than one, seen on the state’s coat of arms as well as adorned on tourist memorabilia.

Image via Marcos Kueh on Instagram.

Lee Mok Yee

Bringing to the table experience in visual art, music, and stage design, Lee Mok Yee’s practice is a striking blend of industrial materials and organic forms, exploring themes of urbanization, nature, and connections between people. One of his recent works, Between Light and Shadows, uses metal and wood to create a large-scale installation that plays with light and spatial depth. The piece evokes a sense of tension between man-made structures and the natural world, inviting viewers to reflect on how these forces coexist. His minimalistic-yet-profound approach transforms everyday materials into contemplative, architectural sculptures.

Image via Lee Mok Yee on Instagram.

Banner image via Marcos Kueh on Instagram.

What Actually Went Down at Ye’s Haikou Concert?

Ye’s highly anticipated China concert took place in Haikou on Sunday. And that’s right, in this case “HK” does not stand for Hong Kong. Prior to the concert, Chinese fans joked that Ye’s team had mistaken Haikou, the capital of Hainan province, for the more widely known international metropolis of Hong Kong. The rumor circulated so widely that many believed it to be true — but in fact, Ye’s “Vulture Listening Experience” was an effort by the Haikou government to boost its tourism-driven economy.

Days before the listening party, Ye posted an image on Instagram of himself as a child in China, with the caption “BACK.” Netizens were quick to dig up details about Kanye’s stint in Nanjing, where he lived in 1987, accompanying his mother as she taught at Nanjing University. Many Instagram comments written in Chinese welcomed him back to China.

Kanye’s Instagram post. Image via Instagram.

The actual listening party on Sunday evening quickly blew up online, with some attendees claiming it to be the best concert experience of their lives, while others noted the chaotic nature of the whole affair. Concertgoers were also pleasantly surprised by the length of the event, which lasted a whopping three hours. By netizen’s counts, Ye sang roughly 89 songs in total.

Ye, dressed in a sweatshirt with a Chinese translation of “told you so” (告诉过你 gào sù guò nǐ) written on it, performed on a stage transformed into a field of golden feather grass, and swirling nebulous smoke.

Not only did Ye perform with his Vultures collaborator Ty Dolla $ign, but his children were also present in Haikou with him. Ye sang an unreleased version of the song “Everybody,” with his wife Bianca Censori leading his four children on stage.

One satisfied fan declared this to be the greatest performance ever. Despite concertgoers not being allowed to leave their seats, they were able to enjoy a lengthy performance that started on time, included new songs, and even had an “eagle” fly above the stadium.

The fan wrote: “It was a rollercoaster ride of a performance! Ye in Haikou was so worth it, I saw so many homies!”

On the other hand, user “RealGlo” on Xiaohongshu had a much more underwhelming experience. According to her video, only one-tenth of the fans present actually knew enough of Ye’s lyrics to sing along his songs. She also said that there was a loud echo in the stadium, which on top of Ye speaking English, led to several awkward moments where he tried to interact with fans but had a limited response.

Still, people are clamoring for more: as of publication, there’s an as-yet-unconfirmed rumor that Ye will perform again in Haikou on September 21, this Saturday.

Banner image via Hainan Ribao.

Bistro on a Budget: Why Young Chinese Are Obsessing Over Saizeriya

It’s the biggest opening the Raffles City mall in downtown Shanghai has seen in months. Posters for the new restaurant line the corridors. Gigantic banners hang like mainsails from the ceiling. Outside the packed eatery, dozens of customers are perched on plastic stools, waiting hopefully for a table.

The brand generating all this buzz? The budget Italian chain Saizeriya.

Not long ago, a scene like this would have been unthinkable in China. Saizeriya — a Japanese-owned chain famous for its cheap-and-cheerful pasta dishes — has been a fixture in major Chinese cities for over 20 years. But for most of that time, it was about as far from trendy as it’s possible to be.

The company was eking out a solid, but unspectacular profit by keeping overhead costs incredibly low. Its pre-prepared Italian food is famously mediocre. Most of its 300 or so mainland outlets are hidden away on the upper floors of half-empty malls, where the rent is dirt cheap. Its muzak playlist feels like it hasn’t been updated for a decade.

A typical meal at a Chinese location of Japanese-owned Italian chain restaurant Saizeriya
A typical Saizeriya spread. Image via Xiaohongshu.

But in post-pandemic China, Saizeriya is suddenly all the rage. Business at its mainland outlets has skyrocketed: In the second quarter of 2024, net sales were up over 35% year-over-year in Beijing, Shanghai, and Guangzhou, where the vast majority of Saizeriya’s restaurants in China are located.

The company is opening new restaurants in fancier locations, such as the aforementioned Raffles City, a swanky mall near Shanghai’s Zhongshan Park. Perhaps most surprisingly, it’s even becoming a darling of Gen Zs on the Chinese lifestyle platform Xiaohongshu, who like to pretend their local Saizeriya is a Parisian bistro.

The chain is benefiting from — and, increasingly, coming to symbolize — the change in mindset that has taken hold among Chinese consumers in the wake of COVID-19. With the economy looking shaky, many are cutting back on spending by switching to cheaper brands — a trend known in China as “consumption downgrading.”

“People are finding saving money cool again,” said Jiang Yaling, founder of Following the Yuan, a newsletter about Chinese consumption trends. “It’s very, very different from the ‘consumption upgrade’ era, when people maybe bought things they couldn’t really afford because they felt so confident about the future.”

“Poor ghosts”

Saizeriya’s low-cost model is paying off in this new environment. The company’s strategy of cutting expenses by finding cheap locations and preparing dishes in centralized kitchens has allowed it to keep prices incredibly low. 

A hunk of garlic bread is just 5 RMB (0.70 USD); a risotto around 12 RMB. The house wine is 9 RMB per glass. For young Chinese living on a tight budget, the sense of value is almost unbelievable.

“It’s so f****** cheap,” said Luo Yahan, a 27-year-old who works in the media in Shanghai. “The food isn’t the best, but considering the price it’s totally worth it.”

The sheer cheapness of Saizeriya has turned the brand into a social media phenomenon in recent months. One popular trend is the “Saizeriya challenge,” in which influencers share photos of themselves sitting in front of massive spreads of food. The twist: the entire meal costs only 100 RMB.

100 RMB challenge video filmed at Saizeriya
One of the many “Saizeriya challenge” videos online. Screenshot via Xiaohongshu.

Others are turning their local Saizeriyas into wine bars. Young Chinese have been getting drunk at Saizeriya in such numbers in recent months, that the trend has inspired a wave of media attention. It helps that the restaurants have some of the trappings of a bistro: the servers, for example, will open the bottle at your table. But the drinks, of course, are less than one-quarter of the price.

Saizeriya has done little to create this buzz, according to Jiang. The trends appear to be emerging spontaneously, as influencers find creative ways to tap into the growing vogue for saving money.

“It’s like a grassroots effort,” said Jiang. “People are creating novelty for themselves.”

As China’s food and beverage sector adapts to the consumption downgrade era, Saizeriya is also becoming a reference point for other brands. 

“Mini-hotpot” restaurants — where consumers can eat an individual bowl of hotpot for less than 40 RMB — have been labeled the “Saizeriya of hotpot.” Cheap barbecue joints are referred to as “Saizeriya BBQ.”

Price breakdown of meal at Saizeriya
Price breakdown of a typical sub-100 RMB Saizeriya meal. Screenshot via Xiaohongshu.

The question is whether these new dining trends will take a bite out of Saizeriya’s own profits. Even mid-range restaurant chains are now offering special deals targeting “poor ghosts” (穷鬼, qióng guǐ) — a slang term referring to people on low incomes. 

But Jiang believes that Saizeriya is built on solid foundations. Unlike these newer chains, Saizeriya has barely changed its offerings over the past 20 years. At a time of such uncertainty, the company’s stability is actually becoming a strength, she said.

“I think Chinese consumers are a bit tired of how there are always new brands emerging, which are aggressively fighting for their eyeballs, likes, and wallets” said Jiang. “They actually like having some consistency in their lives. There’s a sense of comfort.”

Banner image by Haedi Yue.

1 RMB Community Gyms are the Coolest Places to Work Out in China

For young Chinese urbanites, going to the gym is probably the most “city” activity of them all. Yet every aspect of “going to the gym” has a price tag attached — from the Lululemon outfit, to the pre-workout protein shake, topped off with a barely satisfying salad with chicken breast. Not to mention the gym membership, group workout classes, and the personal training sessions that your trainer convinced you will make your biceps look that much better.

Of course, all of this is just working out, and young people in China living the “fancy poor” (精致穷, jīngzhì qióng) lifestyle are ditching corporate gyms and turning towards local community gyms, which can cost only 1 RMB per visit. Forget the Hoka shoes, a pair of Feiyue with some dumbbells will do.

According to Xin Zhoukan, local community gyms first emerged in Jiangsu, Zhejiang, and Shanghai, and have recently expanded all around the country. These gyms, built by neighborhood communities, typically cost less than 3 RMB per visit, and some are even free.

The exercise equipment on offer at a gym in Shenzhen’s Futian District. Image via Xingfu Futian.

Not only are these gyms economical, but they are also well-stocked with equipment, from treadmills to rowing ergs. According to netizens on Xiaohongshu, some gyms offers space rentals for activities such as ping pong, badminton, and swimming.

Whereas corporate gyms are full of muscular physiques and fancy accessories, these local gyms are arenas for neighborhood “aunties” and “uncles” to shine. Netizens are constantly impressed by the energy and physicality of older gym-goers, who squat with metal plates, then follow things up with a series of pull-ups. Some even say that witnessing the athleticism of uncles in plain white tank tops dominating their neighborhood gyms has cured their anxiety about getting older.

For young people who are “broke but bougie” (没福硬享受, méi fú yìng xiǎngshòu), neighborhood gyms and their low prices provide an alternative to corporate gyms that still allows them to enjoy the gym lifestyle. After all, going to the gym is about maintaining healthy and active habits, and these should be made accessible and convenient for all, from young office workers in Arc’teryx jackets, to older uncles doing humanly impossible calisthenics.

Banner image via Xingfu Futian.