展览预告 Upcoming Exhibition| 冯蕤 Feng Rui 个展「波纹之下」Beneath the Ripples

蓝色美术馆将于2026年8月8日推出艺术家冯蕤个展「波纹之下」。

《光之溯》_布面丙烯_120x120cm_2026

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波纹之下｜ Beneath the Ripples

我们通常站在水面之外观看水。看它反光、流动、起伏、透明;看它映照天空、城市与人的脸。但进入水中以后，世界会变得不同。身体的负重感减轻，动作放慢，轮廓松动，声音被隔开，身体不再像在陆地上那样稳定而确定。

冯蕤的绘画，正发生在这样的时刻。她笔下的水并非自然风景，也不是纯粹的视觉图像。水更像一种持续作用于身体和意识的力量:它包裹人，也遮蔽人:它使人暂时失去方向，也让人重新感受到呼吸、重量、边界与存在。在早期的"水中人"与"生之如舟"系列中，人物仍然清晰地存在于画面之中。她们背对观者、浮于水面、停留在植物、河流、船与暗涌之间。身体没有被直接展示，而是在水纹、光线与色彩的遮蔽中保留距离。这里的背影并不是神秘，而是一种不愿被轻易定义的自我保护。

而在后来的"波纹"与"水形人漪"等作品中，人物开始逐渐隐退。水面本身成为了画面的主角:层叠的蓝色、弯曲的线条、被切割的光、不断扩散的漩涡与涟漪，构成一种既安静又不稳定的视觉场域。水不再只是人物所在的背景，而成为一种心理结构，一种关于记忆、情绪、时间与关系的抽象形态。

在这里，水既是外部环境，也是内在感受;既是柔软的保护层，也是无形的压力;既能让身体漂浮，也能让人感到下沉。冯蕤以明亮、浓烈而带有流动感的色彩，描绘出一种与现实保持距离的观看方式。她并不急于给出答案，而是让人物、波纹、光线与空白共同构成一种持续发生的状态。这是一种不喧哗的抵抗。它不以冲突作为姿态，而以停留、漂浮、回避、沉默、呼吸与重新感知自己作为力量。水面之下，身体并未消失;相反，它正在以另一种更缓慢、更敏锐、更坚定的方式，重新成为自己。

We usually observe water from outside its surface—watching it reflect, flow, ripple, and shimmer; seeing it mirror the sky, cities, and human faces. But once we enter the water, the world becomes different. Gravity lessens, movements slow down, outlines blur, sounds are muffled, and the body no longer feels as stable and definite as it does on land. 

Feng Rui's painting is taking place at such a moment. The water in her work is not a natural landscape, nor merely a visual image. Rather, it acts as a force continuously affecting the body and consciousness: it envelops and obscures; it temporarily disorients, yet also allows one to rediscover breath, weight, boundaries, and presence. In her earlier series "People in Water" and "Life as a Boat," figures remain clearly present within the composition. They face away from the viewer, floating on the surface, suspended among plants, rivers, boats, and undercurrents. The bodies are not directly shown but kept at a distance through ripples, light, and color. These back views are not mysterious, but rather a form of self-protection—refusing easy definition. 

In later works such as "Ripple" and "Water Form: Human Ripple," figures gradually recede into the background. The water surface itself becomes the central subject of the composition: layered blues, curved lines, fragmented light, and ever-expanding whirlpools and ripples create a visual field that is both serene and unstable. Water ceases to be merely a backdrop for human presence; it transforms into a psychological structure—an abstract form embodying memory, emotion, time, and relationships. 

Here, water is both the external environment and an inner sensation; it is a soft protective layer as well as an invisible pressure; it can make the body float, yet also evoke a sense of sinking. Feng Rui employs bright, intense, and fluid colors to depict a mode of observation that remains distanced from reality. She does not rush to provide answers, but instead allows figures, ripples, light, and emptiness to coalesce into a continuously unfolding state. This is a quiet resistance—one that does not assert itself through conflict, but through lingering, floating, evading, silence, breathing, and re-experiencing oneself. Beneath the surface, the body does not vanish; rather, it is slowly, more acutely, and resolutely becoming itself again.

FENG RUI 冯蕤，1994生于河南郑州，现工作生活于北京。

画面中的人物常常以背影出现。背影不是单纯为了制造神秘感，也不是单纯的孤独姿态。它更像一个边界：人物可以被看见，却不完全交出自己。正面意味着面孔、表情、判断和回应，而背影中断了这种直接进入。她们不以正面形象回应外界，而是在转身、漂浮、下沉或停留中，保留一处无法被直接抵达的内部。

这种转变通过具体的绘画语言发生。水纹打断身体的完整轮廓，使人物在清晰与消散之间反复移动；冷蓝、灰绿、粉白和肤色相互渗透，让身体既浮现又被遮蔽；透明的水面、覆盖的色层和局部的模糊，使观看停留在迟疑之中。她希望画面保留一种未完成的可见性：她在那里，但仍有一部分始终不被交出。

水对冯蕤而言不是单纯的疗愈意象。它可以保护身体，也可能吞没身体；它让人获得短暂的自由，也制造失重、窒息和消失的可能。正是这种矛盾，使画面中的安静不只是柔美，而带有潜在的不安。沉默既可能是脆弱，也可能是一种保持自身的方式。

FENG RUI (b. 1994, Zhengzhou, Henan) lives and works in Beijing.

Feng Rui’s practice has long centered on the female body in water. Yet her focus extends beyond mere aesthetics; she is concerned with how the body shifts from being an object of the gaze to a site of its own tactile sensation, breath, and boundaries. For Feng, water is neither a mere backdrop nor a simple symbol. It stems from a visceral physical experience: in water, the body feels almost weightless in water,movements slow down, and the skin is fractured by light and ripples. Breathing, temperature, and pressure become acutely distinct. Once submerged, faces, identities, and everyday social ties are temporarily pushed aside, allowing the body to exist in an entirely different manner.

Figures in her paintings are frequently depicted from behind. This is not merely to evoke mystery or to convey a simple posture of isolation. Rather, it acts as a boundary: the figure can be seen, yet it does not fully surrender itself. A frontal view implies a face, expressions, judgment, and a willingness to respond; the back, however, interrupts this direct engagement. Instead of confronting the outside world face-to-face, these figures preserve an inaccessible interiority through turning away, floating, sinking, or simply pausing.

Feng explores the transition from the "body as an object of the gaze" to the "body as a site of self-perception." This relates to a more subtle female experience: the body is often expected to be proper, quiet, and open to evaluation, yet never overly exposed or expressive. Therefore, self-perception is not an abstract concept here; it is the act of withdrawing the body from the constraints of appearance and identity, returning it to the skin, the back, the neck and shoulders, wet hair, breath, and moments of stillness.

This transition is realized through a specific painterly language. Water ripples interrupt the complete contours of the body, causing the figures to oscillate between clarity and dissolution. Cold blues, grey-greens, pearly whites, and flesh tones intermingle, allowing the body to simultaneously emerge and recede. Transparent water surfaces, layered pigments, and localized blurriness keep the viewer in a state of hesitation. She wishes for the paintings to retain an unresolved visibility: the figures are present, yet a part of them remains forever unyielding.

For Feng, water is not merely a trope of healing. It can protect the body, but it can also engulf it; it offers fleeting freedom, yet brings the threat of weightlessness, asphyxiation, and disappearance. It is precisely this contradiction that infuses the tranquility in her paintings with an underlying unease. Silence can be a sign of vulnerability, but it can also be a means of self-preservation.

Ultimately, Feng Rui hopes her paintings do not culminate in a stance of fierce rebellion, but rather in a more internal, sustained standoff. Her figures seem to be reclaiming their bodies, or perhaps merely holding onto themselves for a brief moment before they dissolve. Water, the back-turned figure, and the female body collectively form her visual vocabulary, as well as the ongoing thematic core of her artistic practice.