Artist Statement: I started my journey in arts apprenticeship to learn ukulele and intended to sing along while playing. Singing, is a foreign, if not scary, idea for me. But I soon fell in love with this gentle and jolly instrument and was finding my voice when I timidly allowed myself to hum along spontaneously while strumming the chords. However, what hit China in late January 2020, and gradually took over the whole world was nothing gentle or jolly. The whole Chinese society was in turmoil during quarantine, whether forced or voluntary. There was not much to do in our apartments, but our mental space was filled with uncertainty, fear, and anger. When only one person per household was permitted to go out and grocery shop every three days, the internet was my main connection to the outside world. I saw dreadful news about extreme shortages of medical supplies and burnt out medical staff. I witnessed civilians in Wuhan who were sick, but not sick enough to be admitted to the hospital crying for help. I heard about doctors being reprimanded by the police for sharing information about the virus before it was officially confirmed. There was also news about corrupt local government and charity officials delaying and meddling with the distribution of protective gear. But these “sensitive” materials were soon taken down on the webpage, since internet censorship became stricter than ever, screening for negative portrayals of the government. The need for stability and control in an authoritarian regime trumps everything else. COVID-19 is such a collective memory but some pieces of this crucial experience are being wiped out without a trace. I started to collect images and posts on social media just because I knew they wouldn’t last long and compiled them into a folder on my phone named “VIRUS.”
What do I do with all these raw emotions? How does it relate to me as a person and as an artist? How my society responded to COVID-19 made me reflect on my relationship with rules and control. As much as I wanted to embrace spontaneity and free expression in music, I was actually terrified by the idea and sought comfort in following the rules, i.e. chords, strumming patterns, and sheet music. I was a novice desperately trying to “get it right,” and it gave a great sense of safety and gratification when I achieved the teacher’s standard; it gave me great sense of safety and confidence. I realized it was just like how I first learned Chinese painting at five years old. Everything had a certain way to be painted and there was little room for what “I” wanted to paint in the beginning. It was only after mastery that I was then able to experiment with all the skills I have learned. So, I decided to revisit my Chinese painting skills as a reflection art to singing and playing.
What you will see in the gallery and performance is a piece of music I created using ukulele and my own voice in reaction to the photos I collected in my “VIRUS” album. It will be played along with a digital reflection painting done in a traditional Chinese painting style. In both pieces, I started with the rules I learned and built experimentations of spontaneity on top.
Bio: Ziyi Su, ATR-BC is an art therapist based in China. She primarily supports school-age children who face various social-emotional and behavioral challenges, and also holds workshops and online courses promoting art therapy. The most recent project teaches parents how to tackle specific issues, such as children’s anxiety and anger management, by incorporating children’s book reading, play, and artmaking in their daily parenting practice.
Ziyi received her bachelor’s degree in Psychology and Art & Design from the University of Michigan and her master’s degree in art therapy from New York University. She had served at-risk children and adolescents in New York City public schools before moving back to China in 2018. As an artist, Ziyi is mostly inspired by nature, dreams, and some of the most marvelous art she has had the honor to witness in her clients.
View Ziyi's Virus Album as a PowerPoint here.