Island of Expectation
Yu Hong
A late autumn afternoon, I took a half day to visit Lisson Gallery which I’ve never been before. I came across an exhibition of a Chinese artist who I’ve never heard of before, Yu Hong. I was struck by the sheer scale of her pieces, the rich and intense colours and her chosen theme of this particular collection of work, Islands of the Mind.
In this painting, Island of Expectation, we see a young female figure, with her back to the viewer, sitting atop a high, laddered chair gazing out at a dramatic, turbulent sea, captured at the moment of the eruption of a powerful wave. In many of Yu Hong’s paintings, there is a sense that the character is on the edge, suspended in time, and often confronted with an extreme weather pattern, from rising sea levels to blazing tornados.
As I stand in front of this large piece spreading across the whole wall, I feel almost engulfed by the powerful wave. I want to study carefully the varied jewel toned colours of the sea but can’t help being drawn to the laddered chair and the little girl sitting up high facing the drama of it all. What a familiar lens I thought? How often I’ve felt this exact moment of suspension, nervousness, fear, excitement, anticipation as I accompany my clients uncover their inner landscape. The clever position of the little girl with her back facing the viewer adds to the drama and mystique of the psychological tension. An array of faces and expressions flash through my mind and amongst of them is my own. It is both our individual, unique drama and a collective human drama. What has the wave stirred up? What is the invitation? The dark and light, pain and joy. As I gaze into the painting and the girl, the word ‘empathic gaze’ drops in. Sometimes we gain a little more consolation and courage when we have an empathic witness, so gentle and soft, the presence of whom we can feel even though we turn our back. I felt inspired to write a little poem about this Empathic Gaze.
In the quiet gaze of another’s eyes
Spoken words dissolve
An interior wellspring deep, unbound by time
A soul’s soft hymn, a silent rhyme
An earnest gaze
No demands, but invites
Treasure box beneath untamed storms
A whispered key
There glimmers softly the glittering eye
Dreams of the living, ghosts of the dead
A fire that burns with unwavering glow
Drawing you into the depths below
A gaze that holds you still
A flicker of calm in the heart of a storm
Through time it cuts
Through space it weaves
The stars it finds, where shadow grows
In its depth, a boundless sea
Whispers truths the soul half-knows
Of what we are, and what could be
