Shanghai-based portrait photographer Zachary Bako was recently informed that his documentary photo essay on contemporary Chinese artist Liu Bolin was selected as a finalist for Artists Wanted: Exposure 2011. Naturally, Zachary was quite excited and sent me the essay to share. Below are a few of the photos from that essay. The photographs depict Liu as he creates an art piece—a unique one, even for him—in his hometown of Binzhou, China.
So how did Zachary come about photographing such a famous artist in a country with such strict control over art? Well, it all began last June and led to Zachary moving to Beijing in December to continue cultivating his relationship with Liu. Zachary hopes to one day publish a book on Liu and his creative process. They’ve already collaborated together eight times.
I’ll let Zachary explain more about Liu and his Binzhou photo essay,
I first met and worked with Chinese contemporary artist Liu Bolin when he was in New York in June, 2011. I documented each day he performed, and I photographed the final artwork for each of his performances.
Liu Bolin’s passion for his artwork was clear from the start. The more I worked with Liu, the more interested I got in capturing his emotion, and that of those around him, as he works. When we collaborate, I always find myself peeling the camera away from my face, almost like I need to take a minute now and then just to bear witness to the intensity of the atmosphere around me. Soon after our meeting, I found myself in the enviable position of traveling back and forth to Beijing as our working relationship deepened.
When we traveled to Binzhou, I knew immediately that I was in a rare place that very few people would have access to. Documenting his days producing artwork, within his hometown. It’s not everyday that an artist can go back to his or her roots to create.
It was a four-hour drive from Beijing to Binzhou, and we listened to a mix of American pop and electronic music. When we got to Binzhou, he told me wistfully that so much has changed in the past 20 years that he wasn’t even sure which road we needed to take. From the looks of it, redevelopment was not only happening on a major scale in Beijing but in Binzhou too. We drove through farmland and open fields most of our journey, then we hit the outskirts of town. It had looked like a bomb went off; all I could see was demolition zones and high-rise apartment buildings sprouting up.
I don’t really know how to explain the feelings that come to me while photographing a Liu Bolin performance. I’m so in tune to my surroundings: to light, to composition, to body language, to everything that you could possibly imagine in order to capture this experience. The question that’s always in the back of my head, how do I approach what I’m witnessing in way that will push the narrative in a visual cohesive manner? The world could be blowing up around me and I still wouldn’t see it. That sentence alone, describes perfectly what I see in Liu Bolin’s face every time I photograph him: an immense amount of passion and determination, ignoring everything else except the moment he is in.
This was the first time I was with Liu Bolin when he did not use his body as a canvas and personally. The family added a new dimension; it wasn’t only about Liu Bolin anymore, but also about the reaction and emotion coming from this group of people. I was thinking to myself that this young boy represents China’s youth; he’s standing in the middle of the final composition, sandwiched between his mother and father. And here, all three are being painted into a background with slogans that read, “unify thoughts, propaganda and education” with a phone number providing fake certificates right next to it. I will let you come to your own conclusion.