ILLUSTRATED:
Jean Leymaire, Zao Wou-ki, Editions Hier et Demain, Paris, 1978, no. 219, p. 268
Jean Leymaire, Zao Wou-ki, Editions Rizzoli, New York, 1979, no. 219, p. 268
Jean Leymaire, Zao Wou-ki, Editions Cercle d'Art, Paris, 1986, no. 219, p. 268
This painting is to be sold with a certificate of authenticity issued by Atelier Zao Wou-ki.

Around the year 1970, Zao Wou-ki was going through a tough period in his life. His wife, Chan May-Kan (May Zao), was suffering from an illness that was becoming severer by the day. Feeling helpless in this situation, Zao fell into a deep sense of loneliness and depression and tried to find comfort by expanding his social life and indulging in whisky. It was not until 1972, when his wife passed away, that he rediscovered the energy to resume painting. After the loss of Chan, Zao visited his mother in China—marking the first time he had returned to China since leaving for Paris in 1948. This visit left a large emotional impact on Zao, something he recalls in his autobiography: “When I returned to Paris [from China] in April, 1972, I couldn’t pick up my paintbrush… I took out the xuan paper, brush, and ink and started scribbling. It was relaxing for me because the hand motion that I learned from childhood was still familiar to me. I watched the xuan paper which turned from white to gray after absorbing the black ink. Without much thinking and a lot of effort, the painting was completed with the simplest materials.” (Zao Wou-ki & Francoise Marquet, Self-Portrait of Zao Wou-ki, tr. Liu Li, 1st edition, Artist Publishing Co., Taipei, 1992, pp. 144–145).

In 1973, after Zao Wou-ki recovered from the loss of his wife, his art creation entered into another stage of transformation. He reached another peak of his career after rising from the flame of rebirth with a powerful force. This time, Zao found an inner tranquility through ink splashing which also instilled a new stable and cheerful ease in his abstract paintings. He said, “My love in painting grew, and there are more and more I want to sag, but I am also afraid of repeating myself. I paint my life but also want to paint an invisible space, a dream space, a place that makes people feel peaceful, even though it is using a form full of contradicted and volatile force” (Zao Wou-ki & Francoise Marquet, Self-Portrait of Zao Wou-ki, tr. Liu Li, 1st edition, Artist Publishing Co., Taipei, 1992, p. 147). Compared with the fierce and fiery abstract style in the previous stage, his works from the mid 1970, influenced by water ink painting, turned into a boundless and timeless airy atmosphere; the previous meticulous composition was also replaced by a splash of breezy and sooth displaying the confidence and poise of the artist’s inner world. In a graceful and bright beam of light, this piece, “21.01.76”, catches an invisible circulating momentum of nature only to be more carefree and open-minded.

Between 1975 and 1976, Zao Wou-ki appeared to be a prolific artist showing profuse creativity in his works and gained a lot of attention and recognition. He received invitations of exhibitions from many galleries and museums of different cities. Among those exhibitions, nine of Zao’s works were presented in the Paris Museum of Modern Art, Tokyo Palace, in 1976 that marked the significance of his works ascending in the French art world. During this period, Zao met his third wife, Francoise Marquet, with whom the romantic relationship swept away his despondency and brought his works with a lively and joyful glow. We can experience this abundant and sprightly energy in the “21.01.76” piece of 1976 that is lingering between the reality and fantasy as music, waves, a spreading blaze, all of which show an enlightenment toward life after undergoing a rebirth.

The most vivid impression that the “21.01.76” piece brings to us is an ethereal and sprightly sense of momentum. Swathes of orange yellow, silver white, azure, and amber are interlaced on the canvas to create a pleasant space. They are splashed on one another but kept pure of their own. A fuscous stripe struck from the left ascending toward right becomes the overall visual center. This mark is as powerful as a calligraphic stroke but rich and lucid in paints that heap up the dimension. The brushstrokes that create even and orderly rhythms are sometimes smoky and sometimes sharp and keen. In meeting and parting, they are as capricious as the clouds. “21.01.76” provides us an imagination for the chaotic, prehistoric world, rich and fluctuating in form, embracing all things and promoting harmony. This painting embodies the refreshing insight that the artist obtained after picking his brush once again, and in it we can see a rootless life full of ups and downs depicted with ease. The artist seems to convey an unending life cycle and force since antiquity through a harmonious, quiet, and fairy-like aria resounding in the universe.