ISOLART
  GALLERY

Xuewen Mao, Nightmare Series
A body slowly sinks into dark water within the confines of a bathtub. Rendered in high-grain black and white, the images look like frames extracted from an ongoing bad dream. There is no explicit violence; instead, a seemingly calm submersion evokes the anxiety and self-repression of contemporary life—an emotional state we struggle to name and from which we find it difficult to fully wake up.

Xiaojun Mo, Lost Series No. 6
Through double exposure, a kneeling figure, confined within a circle of sand, is linked by a crude line to a split female figure standing below. Bodily confinement and psychological fragmentation merge into one mental landscape. Viewers travel between the upper and lower parts of the image, facing a persistent question: is it the body that remains trapped inside the boundary, or the mind that continues to drift beyond it?

Juanjuan Pan, Our Generation
Set in a site that resembles a ruin, scattered debris stands in for the exhausted conditions of the present. On one side, a young dancer tries to stretch upward amid rubble; on the other, three people converse in patches of sunlight, apparently indifferent to the solitary performance. The photograph stages multiple dimensions of the same era: some search for an upward gesture, others remain in talk and observation. The camera—and the viewer—become part of this group portrait of “our generation”.

Qiao Sun, Twilight of the Sacred Bird
A weathered façade, a crooked doorplate and wild vegetation form the stage for the remnants of a once-stable order. A woman in a dark dress cradles a white bird at the threshold, while another bird walks alone in the weeds below. In the high-grain monochrome, the “sacred” appears as something both cherished and confined, sheltered under a crumbling architecture. The stillness of the image accumulates tension, as if recording the slow fading of myths of innocence and protection into twilight.

Kai Wang, Return to Nature, No. 3
Rather than depicting literal landscapes, Wang builds a space between scenery and inner vision through layered translucent fields of colour. Cool blues and greens create a mist-like ground, while flickers of purple, magenta and yellow suggest lights, flowers or the remains of sunset. Brush drags hint at both rainfall and shifting horizons. The painting does not present a recognisable scene, but invites viewers to project their own memories of “nature” into the blurred edges, turning “return” into a sensory re-tuning within an overloaded visual world.

Haixia Xu, Earth Series: Leap
A deep blue sky, blazing orange dunes and two anonymous bodies in full-body suits—one blue, one red—intersect mid-air at the centre of the frame. Their covered faces turn them into pure bodily signs. The chromatic contrast stages a tension between coolness and passion, self and other. The sharp shadows on the sand recall the pull of gravity: the leap exists only for an instant, yet its brevity makes it all the more resolute. “Leap” here is understood as an ongoing mental stance, a visual statement about crossing boundaries and redrawing the contours of the self.