Yin Xin, peintre du musée imaginaire de la Chine

For a boy born in Chinese Turkistan, where his parents landed during Mao’s Great Leap, and who first tried his skills on propaganda paintings at the age of 11, it has been a strange journey. From the Silk Road to the Avenue Montaigne, from Soviet Realism to classical painting, from the Cultural Revolution to the avid, amorous, unyielding re-appropriation of humanity’s cultural heritage, of which his gigantic nation was long deprived…
“Back home, there were no Western paintings”, explains Yin Xin. “Only bad photographic reproductions in black and white. When I first saw a picture by Georges de La Tour, I felt the same shock you feel in front of a woman whom you have loved for a long time from afar. At last, she is there.” Ever since that day, Yin Xin has been seducing her… And she’s with him, in his living room: a La Tour maiden, in the Chinese version.

When he is asked whether this re-appropriation of Western tradition isn’t part of China’s formidable will to conquer the world, Yin Xin protests: “Many artists have inspired themselves from past masters! First I copied them to learn their techniques, then I found my own style.” Today, Yin Xin works directly on ancient paintings found in flea markets, which he restores and transforms into palimpsests, replacing church towers with pagodas and frock coats with brocade robes. A series of fake-real antiques – the exact opposite of the seemingly 2000 year old teapot Yin Xin bought in Beijing, which he laughingly admits is certainly artificially aged…
“Metamorphoses” will, fittingly, be the title of his next exhibition at the Shanghai Art Museum in December – in a country where Yin Xin feels as much a stranger now, than he does in Paris. Irreparably cross-bred, as is all contemporary beauty.

Contact: paris@yinxin.org

Portrait

Yin Xin and China’s re-invented museum

Denyse Beaulieu / photos: Catherine Thiry

In the half-light of the Haussmann-era living room, a few paintings stand out on the lava dust grey walls… Classical compositions on a chiaroscuro background, smooth surfaces, refined executions, which could easily be mistaken for copies of past masters, impeccably rendered. Until you notice that each and every character is Chinese. This is how Yin Xin – a dandy raised on the outskirts of the Gobi desert, who now counts Alain Delon among his neighbours – operates his cultural revolution. In a gesture which is part passionate tribute, part ruthless hi-jacking, he literally translates the whole of Western art history.

Manet, Botticelli, Caravaggio, Holbein, Titiano, Chassériau, Ingres, David, Velasquez: the entire contents of the Louvre are refashioning to fill the imaginary museum of the Celestial Empire. Three centuries of painting that never happened in the land of ink and paper, three centuries of history returned to post-Maoist China, recreated in their full splendour by Yin Xin. Which is only fair, considering that the West, ever since the 18th century, found its inspiration in fantasies of the Orient and assorted chinoiseries.

	Portrait Yin Xin and China’s re-invented museum Denyse Beaulieu / photos: Catherine Thiry In the half-light of the Haussmann-era living room, a few paintings stand out on the lava dust grey walls… Classical compositions on a chiaroscuro background, smooth surfaces, refined executions, which could easily be mistaken for copies of past masters, impeccably rendered. Until you notice that each and every character is Chinese. This is how Yin Xin – a dandy raised on the outskirts of the Gobi desert, who now counts Alain Delon among his neighbours – operates his cultural revolution. In a gesture which is part passionate tribute, part ruthless hi-jacking, he literally translates the whole of Western art history. Manet, Botticelli, Caravaggio, Holbein, Titiano, Chassériau, Ingres, David, Velasquez: the entire contents of the Louvre are refashioning to fill the imaginary museum of the Celestial Empire. Three centuries of painting that never happened in the land of ink and paper, three centuries of history returned to post-Maoist China, recreated in their full splendour by Yin Xin. Which is only fair, considering that the West, ever since the 18th century, found its inspiration in fantasies of the Orient and assorted chinoiseries.