Inside the White Cube: New Moroism / White Cube / Hong Kong / May 31 – Sep 9, 2023 /

By Christina Ko /

Blurred lines are very much the theme at White Cube’s summer exhibition, Inside the White Cube: New Moroism. In the literal sense, it refers to the Moroism movement, which emerged in Japan in the 19th century and saw stark outlines replaced by vague or hazy delineations of spatial boundaries. In a more abstract sense, these blurred lines are cultural ones: the four artists contributing to the show are of Asian descent, but no longer live or have never lived in their respective ethnic homelands, and pay homage to their heritage through their work. As such, the painting-dominant show is both romantic and restrained, filled with imagination and longing through an exploration of the concept of home, as embodied in each artist’s practice.

The gallery’s lower floor features three works by London-based Michael Ho, who was raised in a small town in the Netherlands, a so-called third-culture kid whose childhood was and whose practice is dedicated to investigating ideas of belonging. Ho creates mesmerising, hazy backgrounds on his canvases through a unique technique he discovered by accident while working with his late artistic partner Chiyan Ho during the pandemic, when the duo neglected to prime a fabric before painting on it. Flipping the work over, they found their rookie mistake had created textures that they further explored and refined, and that have now become a signature of Ho’s work. Atop these haphazard patterns, he imposes images that draw from East Asian history: With all my might, I hold on (2023) depicts the clenched first of a jade burial suit made for Han dynasty royals; on a long, slim beam-like canvas, he paints a braided queue. 

These are juxtaposed with two works by Chris Huen, whose subjects are as personal as Ho’s are public: though the local artist decamped to London two years ago, his wife, children and dogs remain the starring characters on the canvases, their usual background of chaotic indoor apartment scenes replaced by sprawling nature. Huen’s paintings are characterised by the artist’s bold control of white space, offsetting artful brushstrokes placed confidently without prior sketching, from scenes in the artist’s memory and imagination. Though the setting has changed drastically, the tenor of Huen’s work remains constant: an intimate world forged around a single family, with a pleasant sense of “home is where the heart is”.

Up the staircase, we encounter the work of Mexican-Malaysian-American Timothy Lai, a series of small and mid-sized paintings arduously created with layer upon layer of paint, carefully agitated to create scenes that seem everyday, yet awkwardly so – an outstretched finger points to an empty armchair, its owner invisible; a nude male figure curls in a foetal position on the edge of an antique mirror lying on a floor; a shoeless gentleman shuffles near a wall by the looming shadow of a giant bust. Whether in technique, subject matter or composition, Lai’s work holds an intentional tension, each scene seemingly a transitional moment in a larger narrative, but also a poignant snapshot of a moment in flux that can only be defined with greater context. These are thematic explorations consistent with Lai’s investigation of identity, which seek to contrast the personal with collective historical, and the actual with the imagined.

The final artist is Su Yuxin, whose vibrant paint palette is made up of pigments the artist hand-mixes using minerals collected from the earth: volcanic ash, pearl, eggshells, sulphur, tourmaline and more. Her inquiry is into the identity of the earth and its colours, which are manifested finally as paintings – but to take these vibrant landscapes at face value would be to do them a disservice. The Taiwanese artist, who lives in Los Angeles, shows scenes from her home, as well as Indonesia and Hawaii, but the depictions of clouds and other nature scenes aren’t as important as the way in which they were produced. Su studies the politics of colour, light and nature, questioning the order of the world with ideas both simple and complex: why does a canvas have to be square or rectangular? Who named the colours of the world, and what does that system of nomenclature omit? In questioning these most basic building blocks of art, Su throws the whole order of the world into a tailspin.

That these four artists are sharing an exhibition space is not too bewildering – that the space they inhabit is White Cube is perhaps a greater surprise. The gallery best known for giving solo shows to the YBAs – young British artists such as Marc Quinn and Tracey Emin – grew up alongside its superstar stable, and so it’s rare to see emerging names during high season.

Nonetheless, it’s a refreshing combination for the summer, allowing these names and works to be seen in a blue-chip venue, which is in many ways more important than artistic value or curatorial merit. That not one canvas appears out of place is a testament to the quality of the pieces, and it is the viewer’s good fortune to be able to evaluate each artist’s work in this context.

Featured image: Chris Huen Sin Kan. Installation view of  Inside the White Cube: New Moroism at White Cube Hong Kong, May 31 – Sep 9, 2023. Courtesy the artist and White Cube Hong Kong. © the artist. Photo © White Cube (Kitmin Lee)