Yue Minjun

Galerie Serieuze Zaken, Amsterdam
Acquired by the present owner from the above

This work is in a good general condition. There appears to be areas of very fine craquelures scattered throughout the blue background of the painting, particularly towards the upper right hand side and throughout the lower left side of the painting (with a very small area of faint craquelure in the gourd as well). There is fine craquelures along the upper and left edges of the painting as well. The works is framed and was not examined out of frame, nor under the UV light.
In response to your inquiry, we are pleased to provide you with a general report of the condition of the property described above. Since we are not professional conservators or restorers, we urge you to consult with a restorer or conservator of your choice who will be better able to provide a detailed, professional report. Prospective buyers should inspect each lot to satisfy themselves as to condition and must understand that any statement made by Sotheby's is merely a subjective qualified opinion.
NOTWITHSTANDING THIS REPORT OR ANY DISCUSSIONS CONCERNING CONDITION OF A LOT, ALL LOTS ARE OFFERED AND SOLD "AS IS" IN ACCORDANCE WITH THE CONDITIONS OF SALE PRINTED IN THE CATALOGUE.

Yue Minjun is now well recognized as one of the representative artists of his generation. Born in the province of Heilongjiang, he studied in the oil painting department of Hebei Normal University in 1985. His art consists of versions of himself, smiling broadly into the gaping maw of contemporary society. Two rows of small, perfectly formed white teeth opening into the black abyss of his mouth, a broad pinkish face with eyes closed to the world in a mirthful fit—these are the repeated features of an artist seemingly obsessed with his own image. At first Yue's images are troubling: they are a caricature of a caricature. But over time, Yue's pseudo-portrait becomes an Everyman; we identify with the smiling figure that reappears in a plethora of contexts, vapidly commenting on the environments he, or multiples of him, inhabits. Yue's figure incorporates a mocking sense of its own place in society; the black hole of his rictus reveals no depth, no matter how many times it is reiterated. The many ludicrous scenarios in which his self-portrait pops up only underscore the ability of the image to dominate the composition of his paintings and structure the reception of Yue's oeuvre. However, while the repetitive consistency of the image may alienate or bore, the consistency of the self-portrait is also an emblem, a symbol of endurance and survival in dramatically varied circumstances.

In fact, acknowledgement and acceptance of life's absurdity is key to Yue's brilliant treatment of the self. Untitled (1996) is a case in point. Laughing to the point where his eyes are closed, Yue wears a pink dress with a high waist and cradles with his right arm a giant, marvelously striped gourd. The gourd's bulbous, faintly phallic shape and improbable striations are more outlandish when cradled by this cross-dressed cartoon. The result is a send-up of portrait conventions and a travesty of accurate self-representation. This cross-dressing is not unusual in Yue's work; although he does not assume the anatomical attributes of a woman, he is as deliriously happy to appear in the dress of a little girl or in a feather boa as in his own tighty-whities.

The Ninety-Nine Idols Series consists of simple close-cropped pictures of Yue's classic surrogate, of which the two works offered here are representative examples. In one we see the artist in an unusual perspective his cropped-off head crowding the base of the image. In another we see only the upper row of his teeth, while his open mouth disappears with the rest of his face off the right side of the canvas. Cut almost in half, and squished into a frame too small to hold his entire visage, the figure remains in a state of unabashed pleasure—as does his pair, who seems about to slip off the canvas' bottom edge. However abject his condition, the artist's stand-in remains resolutely gleeful. But it is important to remember that Yue turned to laughter as a repeated face for his painterly practice in reaction to the brutal suppression of the democracy movement in China and the painful roller-coaster of Chinese social life over the past many decades—and perhaps this was a sensible, sanity-preserving response. Yue's unflagging resolve towards self assertion, always smiling despite the vagaries of existence, suggests one explanation for the enduring and widespread popularity of the artist's work.

-Jonathan Goodman