Luochen ZHANG: Smoke and Mirrors: Curated by WANG Yaoli
I’m interested in those moments that are difficult to explain—moments that appear in the cracks of everyday life, not as the result of a narrative, but more like a byproduct of perception. I’m constructing a theater without a stage, where both the audience and the actors are on the periphery, and the roles and narrative intertwine. Words and images are the cues for the opening, marking the beginning of the narrative, while also pulling them into misinterpretation. For me, ambiguity, hesitation, and pause are not obstacles in the creative process; they are where the narrative truly begins.— Luochen ZHANG
BONIAN SPACE is pleased to announce the first solo exhibition Smoke and Mirrors by the artist Luochen ZHANG, from June 21 to July 20, 2025. Curated by WANG Yaoli, the exhibition presents nearly twenty new works by the artist. Centered on themes of daily reality and theatrically fictional scenarios, ZHANG's work revolve around realistic daily and dramatic fictional scenes, taking indoor space as the field of events, but building a contradictory and paradictory "theater" through “misaligned." Here, daily life is both the starting point and the scene element to be scheduled.
Luochen ZHANG's practice is deeply inspired by cinema and photography, skillfully employing light and composition to create spatial ambiguity. The figures in ZHANG's paintings often inhabit settings that feel both familiar and surreal. Living rooms, bedrooms, dining areas, or bathrooms serve as stages where ZHANG, in the role of director, places elements that defy logic into seemingly prearranged "empty rooms." These spaces become micro-worlds that appear controlled yet are charged with undercurrents of tension.
Like stage design with deliberate sets and lighting, ZHANG's works amplify the theatricality and opulence of indoor spaces. The viewer in ZHANG’s work is not a bystander, but is silently “cast into the scene.” The orchestration of gaze, spatial structure, and lighting turns the act of viewing itself into part of the theatrical event. For instance, in the painting Look at Me Lying in the Bath (2024), a meticulously rendered room exudes an unreal, dreamlike quality. Legs extending beyond the frame blur the boundary between the painting and its viewers, offering an immersive experience. The viewer and the person in the bathtub being gazed upon are placed within the same visual frame, provoking a simultaneous sense of dominance as observer and discomfort as the observed. The first-person pronoun "me" in the title introduces a philosophical layer to the contemplation of subject-object existence.
ZHANG often employs conversational short phrases as titles, such as I Can't Bring Anythings Go (2023) or Don't Really Want to Wash Hands (2024).These titles act as both narrative "guides" and "disruptions," inviting viewers to fill in the gaps of meaning between language and imagery. The interplay between the title and painting creates subtle tensions, building a unique narrative depth within ZHANG's work that sparks fresh reflections and imaginings about everyday existence.
In I Will See You on the Other Side (2025), two people and a wild beast are frozen momentarily. The viewer cannot discern whether the beast is being led out from behind the curtains or advancing of its own will. The obscurity of the title and the suspended meaning of the image—I will see you on the other side—further deepen the narrative's sense of drift and incompletion. In Table Theater No. 1 (2025), a figure holding a suitcase stands before a lavishly set table and candles that have just been extinguished. Is the figure about to sit down, or preparing to leave? Rather than offering an answer, ZHANG prefers to pose a riddle that lingers before resolution.
As the creator of these puzzles, ZHANG interprets on the exhibition's title: "'Smoke and Mirrors' does not depict a specific event or space, but instead offers a visual empty seat. Here, images and language do not simply annotate one another but generate new possibilities through mutual uncertainties. For me, ambiguity, hesitation, and pause are not obstacles in the creative process; they are where the narrative truly begins."
