Exploring Identity and Memory: The Artistic Journey of Lu Shao Yi

Part 1｜Personal Background and Creative Beginnings

1. Introduce yourself, including your name, background, and the artistic creation forms and media materials you are currently engaged in.

I’m Lu Shao Yi, a contemporary ink artist based in Macau. Growing up in the arcade alleys of Guangzhou's old city, I developed a passion for painting during high school. Living in Macau for over a decade has prompted me to reflect on this unique city, where history and the present intertwine. I ponder how traditional ink painting can interact with the codes of contemporary life.

The creation of my solo exhibition begins with my work "Guarding and Inheriting," which was selected for the 14th National Art Exhibition. The icons within this painting resemble the "contemporary symbols" of digital life, such as computers, tablets, and mobile phones—indispensable elements of our daily existence. Rather than simply overlaying traditional techniques, my work blends ink painting methods with traditional subject matter. This dialogue between "ink and icon" represents my perspective as someone living a "double life," one that cherishes the humanistic warmth of traditional ink painting while embracing the rhythm of the digital age.

2. When did you first get involved in art? What opportunities or experiences led you to pursue professional artistic creation?

I was first exposed to art in high school. Due to financial constraints, I entered the workforce early, but I always harbored an unfulfilled wish: the dream of studying at Guangzhou University.

A few years later, thanks to the right timing, location, and people, I met my graduate advisor. With his encouragement and support, I decided to embark on a new journey of professional artistic creation.

3. Why did you choose Eastern art as your starting point? Is it related to your upbringing or cultural identity?

In fact, choosing Eastern art as a starting point came naturally. I grew up in Guangzhou's old city. The arcades and ancestral halls near my home, the gardens of Panxi Restaurant, the calligraphy and patterns on the Chen Clan Ancestral Hall, the plaster sculptures on the walls, and the wood carvings on the windows all resembled ink paintings.

Part 2｜Creative Context and Style Exploration

4. Could you briefly describe your early work? For example, are there any specific series of works, themes you explored, or how your style developed?

 My subject matter often originates from fleeting experiences in life, and I capture them with the right brush and ink accordingly. My creations aren't just slavish copies of photographs, but rather a unique re-creation and integration.

Looking back at my early work, my brushwork and style were influenced by the "academy-style" ink painting of the time. During university, I received extensive training in meticulous brushwork, and later also explored landscapes, freehand flower-and-bird paintings, and freehand figure paintings.

However, I deeply enjoyed my time in the countryside, and gradually, I settled on ink-and-wash figure painting as my primary focus. Perhaps I realized that the simple brushstrokes and patterns, combined with everyday people, better suited my ink-and-wash expressions.

5. What are the main themes of your portraits and sketches? What are the special features in terms of colour, technique, or emotional expression?

The creation of these sketches is primarily a product of the ink painting training assigned to us by our graduate advisor during our graduate studies. The project, titled "One Painting a Day," focused on developing expressive ink painting techniques and the integration of line and ink. However, what I understand as training isn't about technique, but rather a daily reflection on ink painting. I refuse to follow trends, nor do I consider style a task, but rather follow my own instincts.

As I follow my instincts, I slowly reflect and think, incorporating my familiar brushstrokes. For example, in the beginning, I used relatively few lines, mostly using boneless ink. Gradually, I developed a greater interest in line, and began to integrate it more closely with ink. Sometimes, cleverly combining line with white space is a highly sophisticated form of thinking.

Then, the combinations of imagined people and scenery gradually increased. For a while, I loved landscapes, so I would create many landscape compositions, which were occasionally influenced by the people and things around me. Gradually, the picture might show different angles at the same time. Later, the proportion of people in the picture gradually decreased, and the style of the painting also gradually changed. However, most of the works created during this period were painted with light ink and fewer blocks of colour. However, I was constantly changing…

6. Landscape sketches make up a large portion of your archive. How have these sketches influenced your artistic style or creative thinking?

When I went out sketching, I initially carried some cardboard and a sketchbook for record-keeping. But I've since found that just the sketchbook is sufficient, as it's the best way to gather material and capture my feelings in the moment. If I sit down all day to paint just one or two pictures, my thoughts are confined to the image; sketching, on the other hand, is a continuous process of reflection. Ink painting requires a sophisticated aesthetic eye and agile dexterity, unlike meticulous brushwork, which allows for the slow adjustment of the composition.Ink painting requires long-term trial and error to achieve a state of harmony between mind and hand. Otherwise, one's ambitions are high but their skills are low. Without sufficient memory, the hand cannot keep pace with the brain's thinking. Therefore, outdoor sketching is not only a training of the hand's ability, but also a training of the coordination between the brain and hand. It's like memorizing words: as long as our vocabulary accumulates to a certain level, our English proficiency will continue to improve.

After completing the sketches, I return to the studio to create and look back at them, which actually brings back memories. While painting the ink painting, I recall and feel the feelings that the object brought to me at that time.

I used to sketch a lot, filling my sketches. I'd just draw whatever I saw, whatever I wanted. Later on, I became more concise, perhaps reflecting my creative needs. This includes decorative or trivial things. When I'm painting in ink, I can express myself more freely based on the image. This is a gradual process of development, which is probably why I sketch so much.

Part 3｜Local Observation and Illustration Creation

7. What perspective and story did you attempt to convey in your illustrations for Rua das Estalagens? What are your thoughts on this series overall?

I initially went through several drafts for the illustrations for Rua das Estalagens. Let's start with the style. Initially, I considered using the boneless technique, but after careful consideration, I decided to prioritize the line. Painting, in its entirety, ultimately returns to its roots—point, line, and plane. Even when I teach students, I emphasize their importance. We can think of Mr. Chen's text as points, the designer's numerous large blocks of color as planes, and the effect of my illustrations throughout the book as a manifestation of line. This solidified my approach.

Regarding the illustrations created for "Grass Pile Street," I initially went through several explorations and attempts. The establishment of style began with repeated deliberation: the initial concept leaned toward a formless expression technique. However, after deeper reflection, I increasingly felt that lines should be the true main theme. Looking at the essence of painting, regardless of how winding the path may be, it ultimately returns to its most fundamental components—points, lines, and planes. This is also the core I continuously realize and emphasize in my artistic practice.

Thus, a clear train of thought gradually took shape: I could view Mr. Chen's words in the book as lively, jumping "points"; the large areas of color meticulously laid out by the designer as solid or fluid "planes"; and my illustrations, woven throughout the book, naturally take on the role of the wandering "lines"—as if in the world constructed by points and planes, they outline, connect, and flow, weaving an unspoken narrative thread between the pages that guides the viewer's gaze and thoughts.

The experience of illustrating "Finding the Source of Fragrant Grasses - Illustrated Grass Pile Street" also became a practical slice of my ongoing "One Drawing a Day" series. Like this series, the source of creation often begins with fleeting feelings in life, which I try to capture and freeze with brush and ink. The process of conceptualization is often interwoven with gazing at photographs, recording quick sketches, imagining from memory, and continually experimenting with ink wash techniques. These elements collectively inspire creativity and constantly enrich my material repository.

Sustainable Guardianship 03

8. As an artist who has moved to Macau, how do you view this city? What unique observations do you have from the perspective of an "outsider"?

As an artist who later relocated to Macau, I began with a practical understanding of this city's landscape, which always presents a unique perspective to me. It is not a flat canvas but rather a manuscript filled with layers of time and varying nuances, like a book that can be flipped through repeatedly.

From an outsider's viewpoint, the fresh sense of distance continually shocks me. It’s like adjusting the camera in my work: one moment, I’m navigating streets lined with tea restaurants and vintage window decorations, moving into narrow alleyways where the salty sea breeze mingles with familiar Cantonese chatter—this is the lively essence embedded within me. The next moment, a casino adorned with gold and geometric lines looms at the end of my view, its visual impact often causes me to pause, as if watching the set change in an absurd play. This extreme compression and juxtaposition of physical spaces create an image filled with contrast, yet they form a cohesive whole.

9. In your illustration work, what special techniques or visual languages do you employ to express your ideas?

In this creation, I extensively borrowed from the formal languages of illustration and Western painting, driving a new experiment in ink to seek unique visual tension. I attempt to adjust the perspective like a film camera, sometimes pulling back to show wide street scenes and sometimes zooming in on subtle corners, inviting readers to engage with the unfolding scenes from different distances and angles. Specifically, I prefer using simple, strong black lines to outline shapes, contrasting them with subtle washes and the collision of color blocks rendered in a loose, expressive style. Occasional shadows and delicate textures aim to showcase the unique charm of ink when expressing light and layers. All of this seeks to explore a visual expression that combines the essence of traditional ink, the fluidity of watercolor, and the narrative quality of modern illustration, searching for various possibilities of cross-disciplinary integration.

10. Has this series of creations inspired your subsequent projects or thematic extensions?

Although this work focuses on a specific street, its inherent exploratory spirit is in line with my ongoing "One Painting a Day" journal-style creations. This kind of work feels more like a continuous reflection: it captures the glimmers of humanity, fragments of situations, and traces of desire. The faces in the paintings may stem from fleeting real images, but through the transformation of ink language and subjective imagination, they have distanced themselves from reality, ultimately crystallizing into marks left by objective reality, as well as projections of the subjective inner self.

In the end, these extensions are not deliberately planned; they follow the idea of “re-coding” and emerge naturally. Just like my exploration of ink language, moving from separation to integration, from painting cats to large birds, it’s all about following my feelings, experimenting, and making adjustments. My current interest in “time archives” has also gradually emerged in this way—I want to continue excavating those forgotten fragments, re-coding them with ink, and presenting them in a new, contemporary form.

Part 4 | Contemporary Interpretation and Historical Dialogue

11. In your recent series "Time Archives: Re-coding," what changes and breakthroughs have you made compared to your previous works?

"Time Archives: Re-coding" indeed feels like opening a door, clarifying my future creative direction. This exhibition has prompted me to think about how to handle "memory" and "history," which are intangible—treating them as files that can be reorganized. After the exhibition, the idea of "re-coding" has naturally continued, becoming the underlying logic for my subsequent projects.

For instance, I've started to systematically collect fragments belonging to bygone times, such as the old window patterns from Xiguan in Macau, Portuguese tile designs from old streets, and even some nearly forgotten old photographs. These elements used to be mere decorative details in my paintings. Now, I actively gather and categorize them, like establishing a visual “material archive.” These old symbols are no longer simple decorations; they carry stories and traces of time, and I aim to deconstruct, reassemble, and enlarge them, just like I did in this exhibition, to see what new meanings emerge when "translated" with contemporary ink (or other styles).

12. How do you see the relationship between Macau's historical development and your own creative work? How does the city's history influence your themes and direction?

In my view, Macau's history is a dynamic "archive," with each layer of time (the intertwining of incense at A-Ma Temple and the bells of St. Lawrence Church, the oyster shell window patterns of Zheng's Mansion paired with Portuguese fireplaces) serving as "raw data" that can be deconstructed and re-coded. In "Time Archives: Re-coding," I deliberately extract these material symbols: architectural patterns as cultural genes, reconstructing the roof of A-Ma Temple and layering it with the carvings of Xiguan's old windows, capturing the traces of fishermen's lives interwoven within the city. This form of "juxtaposition" is not nostalgic but rather an analysis of the essence of "Sino-Western symbiosis." The memories that have faded become sound files; the record player and cassette resonate on Grass Pile Street, familiar shops and neighbors exchange greetings, the tranquility of boats docking and waves lapping transform through time and memory into a series of ink wash patterns.

As a migrant, my work embodies the dual identity of "archive manager and hacker": I need to organize the logical chains of historical data while also breaking through its inherent coding rules. This sense of displacement echoes the core of the exhibition—"reconstructing old Macau through icons and contemporary coding."

This exhibition marks a crucial turning point in my creative journey: shifting the artistic perspective from reflections on daily life to a deeper exploration of cultural identity and the contemporary "re-coding" of ink language. This is not only a phase of personal artistic consolidation but also an experiment in transforming cultural memory into visual data, reconstructing temporal archives with contemporary syntax.

In the digital age, history and memory are translated into images, data, and other virtual files. For artists residing in foreign lands, the textures of old Macau have become fragmented files floating between memory and digital media—intimate yet distant. I attempt to establish a contemporary visual coding system for the lost sensibility of history within this state of dislocation.

13. In this series, what expressive methods did you choose to present your viewpoints? Did you incorporate new materials or narrative techniques?

In the "Time Archives: Re-coding" series, I achieved a crucial shift from everyday expression to a deeper exploration of cultural identity and innovation in ink language. I regard scattered historical memories and the appearance of old Macau as "time archives" that can be invoked, and I perform "re-coding" using unique contemporary visual vocabulary.

The series employs densely arranged grids resembling digital interface app icons (ICON), compressing cultural symbols like dragons, phoenixes, flowers, tea sets, and ships into visible "memory data packets." At the same time, it inherits the wisdom of negative space from traditional ink, allowing the interplay of real and unreal spaces to carry the breathing rhythm of Eastern aesthetics. The blank areas in the artwork preserve the traditional ink aesthetic of "calculating white as black," creating a sense of temporal flow and the illusory nature of memory; the irregularly arranged squares that appear repeatedly serve as intuitive metaphors for contemporary digital experiences.

In my re-coding practice, traditional symbols are deconstructed and reborn, with patterns from traditional culture transformed into flickering digital color block matrices, and the vessels of time elevated into vibrant contemporary icons. Old objects become carriers of memory computation through time—where the subject carries the core narrative, and the surrounding squares act like pop-up windows, constructing multi-dimensional temporal references. For creators in foreign lands, their homeland has become a fragmented file interwoven with virtual and memory elements. This series reboots the memory program through the contemporary translation of ink, extracting, combining, and outputting cultural genes using square units, burying interactive ports for viewers in the gaps of negative space, ultimately transforming the lost sensibility of history into a "water ink programming manuscript" that can be continuously written and is full of life within the contemporary context.