Hong Kong artist Tsang Chui-mei's new exhibition contains a body of work that spans five years and stylistically transcends Chinese literati tradition and Western Abstract Expressionism. An established mid-career artist, Tsang possesses unparallel skills and knowledge in both traditions. While most of her works are acrylics on canvas, her line of thought is deeply rooted in Chinese philosophies. The present exhibition exemplifies her unique visions with each work producing a “scene” that tells a story from her personal and emotional self.

When Tsang was still a graduate student at the Chinese University of Hong Kong, almost all her paintings were executed in surrealistic composition and colors. Whether it was a lone figure or studio chair amidst a vast deserted landscape, there was always a deep sense of reclusive outcry. The audience was captured by her strong uncompromising urge for expression. The ultimate beauty of Tsang's works, however, was not that they were dynamic and overwhelming. It was that her manic expression was always refrained or hesitant at best, alleviating to a point then collapsed totally, resulting in a devastating emotional fluctuation. That was her signature style!

After years of struggles with daily life experiences, Tsang's recent works have reached a new level of artistic prowess. While keeping her signature style in creating an artificial “scene” or “stage” for each canvas, the artist also combines Buddhist and Daoist ideas in her preparation and execution. In order to illustrate delicacy and a fragile state of mind, Tsang chooses Chinese calligraphic strokes over the bold and broad western brushstroke. She chooses insects, fruits and vegetables as subject matters to enhance metaphoric association with inner and outer selves, positive and negative, yin and yang dichotomy. Mostly important, Tsang's new works are loaded with interdependent opposites and psychological intensity. The Implosion of Cauliflowers and When the Sea Run Dry are darkly beautiful pieces that deal with mysticism and tragedy. Pear Mountain and Revolutionary Road appear like western still-life, yet their underlying stories all end in glorious devastation. Moth Lake and The Death of Strawberry are tragically romantic, so intense that the audience can only admire the horror of vanity and sacrifice.

Tsang Chui-mei's new works are manifestations of herself, her ideas and visions. She honestly and at times blatantly reveals all her emotions without reservation. This is rare not only among artists but in general for people living in a city like Hong Kong. Some might say Tsang's paintings are outcries, they speak loudly but the stories are melodramas. Others believe they are her refuge, in them she finds freedom and idyllic getaway. To me, Tsang's paintings are pages from her diary that embody sights, smell, emotions and sounds. These pages contain clues to finding inner tranquility within external chaos, or balancing obsessive desire and voluntary suppression. I have followed Tsang's development since 2001, and each body of work was applauded, perhaps because the audience was surprised at itself for liking it so much. Tsang's expressions are private and critically unconcerned, yet speaking to all ages in a universal language. They weave a unique enchantment. In front of many in this exhibition, I fall into a reverie, an encompassing absorption that drops me out of time.