Farewell to 2022告别2022

在2022年的最后几个小时，郑重地和这一年说再见。

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2022年，无法做年度总结。在最后要结束的时刻，悲伤、哀悼、荒谬、愤怒还未完成。我们还未好好活过这一年，还未公正地对待自己和他人的遭遇，又该如何结束它？一位朋友说，“我看到一些2022年的回顾，到最后说‘我们进入2023年的生活’。我都觉得，天啊，这怎么进入，这要多大的勇气。”

2022年的年终，与艺术世界各类宏大的年终总结有些背道而驰，ARC编辑部选择把目光投向内部。我联络了一些同行的友人，询问ta们这一年的真实感受，ta们的话，让年末暂时脱离了可被总结的范畴。在很多时刻，我想说，是的，我也感觉如此。

**遍体鳞伤

在北京工作的B说，蹦到她脑海里的词是“坍塌”。在今年的数轮封控里，展览、论坛、博览会、项目的延迟和取消变得稀松平常。在家上班逐渐失去了一开始不需要通勤的侥幸，线上会议成为需要忍耐之事。当计划一而再、再而三地落空，提前两周做工作计划也变得没有之前那么有信心。11月的上海，ART021博览会和西岸艺术与设计博览会临时取消时，大街两旁的博览会广告在和煦的天气毫无阴霾，让人加倍无力。有朋友提醒说，西岸艺术中心曾经是方舱。

这样的状态已经整整持续了三年，计划的落空是最低限度的失望。更多的时候我们要面对生活本身的坍缩，并且一而再、再而三地支撑躯体再挤迸出一些力量，再做一次计划、再发出一点声音，逃跑、赚钱、抗议，压榨出一点信心。这样活着带来的是几乎加诸于每个人的疲惫和折损。一向轻装上阵、和国内很多地方的艺术家建立了联系的宋轶说，过去这一年，他感觉到的是一个字是“伤”、一个词就是“遍体鳞伤”：“我觉得很少有这么一年，周围几乎所有的人没有不是遍体鳞伤的”。

这些伤害，除了不断被削砍的人们主动向外探求的茎叶，还有不断施加于每个人身体的细小控制。编辑Yineng说，过去这一年他感受最深的是“码”。健康码、行程码——以24、48、72小时的期限、以红黄绿的形态、以信号追踪的区域限定，让我们的身体和时间在今年甚至愈发拥有了形状（对，许多地方的扫码是今年才开始变本加厉的）。这样确切的形状是被缝合出来的、是挤压出来的，一旦外部的压力陡然撤空，生活涣散一地，人们生活的内核早已消失。而即便控制消失了，仍然需要面对是无数的消息——中国农村和城乡结合部已经被掏空的药品、落在乌克兰领土上的无数导弹、毫无音讯的年轻人。“末日刷屏”，这是策展人蔡影茜的2022年判语。

**落幕

当国内艺术行业的从业者被问到2022年的感受时，很少有人谈到艺术相关的事。的确，可能这三年艺术在这世界上根本不重要。但是我们是这个领域的从业者，行业的变动对每个人的生活都会带来剧烈的改变。策展人和艺术家陈柏麒说，他感受到了一个时代的落幕。5月份，柏林的时代艺术中心关闭实体空间；8月份，广州时代美术馆宣布展厅项目即将暂停。开了面包店的柏麒说，“房地产时代的终结意味着会有一批艺术机构完成历史使命”。去国美任教的卢杰也在不同的场合重复着他的判断——机构和生态一定会换代。

商业化的浪潮席卷而来，打开BOSS直聘，艺术相关的工作看起来很多——艺术留学辅导、各种艺术空间的策划和执行、新媒体总监（大部分时间也就是公众号编辑）。刚刚毕业回国Lillian和很多年轻的艺术家一样，回来就在探索着创作和谋生的平衡（也发现生活本身就重重险阻）。事实上，教育行业、媒体行业和新零售场景的橱窗设计和艺术行业并不相通，大多数时候人们只能成为有艺术特长的底层民工。在艺术X科技的风潮中，很多商业跨界的机会都会提到它们对UCCA Lab的参考，希望这条模式可以在未来走通、带来经济回报。有艺术家朋友找到了相对稳定的工作，是去科技行业，在大厂里做NFT的设计和发售；在贵州深山里的时候，也有刚认识的朋友提到了要去新加坡投资——未来是一个可以逃逸的庇护所，Web 3.0提供了一个可以吸引投资和信心的未来。当现实已是一片废土，人们最需要的便是未来。

**白色

突然消失的核酸检测和行程码，不再拦住行人的保安，口罩可以摘下了。一切如大梦一场，屈辱仿佛不曾存在过，这样的抹消让这三年更显得是被剥夺的。轻与重在这个年尾一起降临，轻巧的重置、未被正视的沉重，一起把人拖入仓皇。艺术家张文心发来了这么一段话——

“白色。一个在2022年最让人颤抖的颜色，它代表了这一年中最极端的几种情绪，它曾被许多匿名的人穿在身上施加暴力，也以‘无’的方式诉说了太多不可明示的真实。它是中国民间风俗中代表死亡和灵魂的颜色，也是无生命的机器对人进行管控的颜色。”

要从哪里开始召回信心并且重建这片废土？前一阵子我看到了一位研究者陈彬华介绍的“疗愈正义”（healing justice）的概念，在创伤之后，需要给予我们自己时间、呼吸、缓慢下来、观察自己的身体、和真实的人建立联系、让自己重新落入环境里。游泳办公室的里林说，“我从大连搬到上海的时候就想生活在人群中，因为在大连的时候完全没有跟家附近的人接触，只是跟朋友交往，没有机会认识物理身边的人。今年在上海的经历让我‘不得不’认识了很多邻居，有变成亲密朋友的也有误解割裂的，但是都很‘实秤’ 。无论如何让我的日常生活变得很不一样了。”在里林家吃的几顿饭，会让我感受到很久违的真切——那种真实感类似于她说的“实秤”，并不是什么专业上的工作联系，而是人的质感。今年，虽然大多数同行都没有去欧洲，但卡塞尔文献展还是不断出现在此地的讨论里。米仓米仓米仓，政治正确政治不正确，反复在对话里出现，时而是艺术界的安慰剂，时而让艺术失踪。由宓在最近发表于e-flux的长文里回顾了ruangrupa陷入的种种争议，她在最后说到，“或许我们收缩了太久错误的肌肉，直到我们意识到政治是在别处发生的。”

2022年，持续了近二十年、有关中国当代艺术的英文学刊《Yishu》也暂时休刊了。但我会想起采访《Yishu》的主创之一郑胜天老师时，我问1938年出生的他怎么看“计划”、年轻时的他如何计划。他笑着说，“我从来不做计划，战争、运动或者政策突然改变了，人的力量太小了。都是有什么事，就把这件事做好。”这样想，我也会想起策展人苏伟以前说的，“在大陆，研究和实践都是跟着人走的，不是跟着机构。”

说再见

很多人的年末伴随着咳嗽声和救护车的呼啸声度过。这一年我们看到了太多令人忧伤的消息。在2022年离开我们的人似乎比往年都要多。占领报纸头条的伊丽莎白二世女王、安倍晋三、戈尔巴乔夫、江泽民的离世让人们真切地觉出一个时代在远离。最后一个月，国内的讣闻更是几乎每天都在刊发——几乎没有人不在悼念。三年的节点，似乎让人们终于开始和这一段特殊的时间告别，但是，要如何告别呢？人、时间、经历，都不会因为跨入2023年而烟消云散。逝者和暂时离开的事物都在我们的生命里出现过了，这是又幸运又残酷的事。在一年之尾，与过去挥别的同时，我们也希望郑重的告别可以帮助我们反思这个时代的伤痕。告别，是为了不能忘却的纪念。

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2022年艺术文化领域逝者不完整名单洛德斯·卡斯特罗｜Lourdes Castro（1930–2022）

专注于抽象艺术的葡萄牙艺术家

劳拉·巴克利｜Laura Buckley（1977–2022）

以机械装置闻名的爱尔兰艺术家

卡门·埃雷拉｜Carmen Herrera（1915–2022）

年近90才被艺术界重新发现的古巴抽象艺术家

丹·格雷厄姆｜Dan Graham（1942–2022）

拒绝被标签为“观念”的美国视觉艺术家、写作者

德温·瓦伦丁｜De Wain Valentine（1936–2022）

美国极简主义雕塑家

约翰·韦斯利｜John Wesley（1928–2022）

美国艺术家，擅以极简主义、超现实主义表现诡异场景中的简洁形象

余德耀（1957–2022）

印尼爱国华侨、企业家、艺术慈善家和收藏家，创办了余德耀基金会、余德耀美术馆

米拉·卡利克斯｜Mira Calix（1970–2022）

致力于非传统音乐及公共声音装置创作的英国作曲家和声音艺术家

格伦维尔·戴维｜Grenville Davey（1961–2022）

雕塑家，1992年透纳奖获得者

德尔菲娜·恩特卡纳莱斯｜Delfina Entrecanales（1927–2022）

曾直接资助数百位艺术家的西班牙慈善家，非营利组织德尔菲娜基金会（Delfina Foundation）的创立人

黄蜀芹（1939–2022）

中国第四代导演，代表作《人·鬼·情》被誉为“中国第一部女性电影”

赫尔曼·尼奇｜Hermann Nitsch（1938–2022）

奥地利画家、行为艺术家，维也纳行动主义艺术运动的先驱和灵魂人物之一

唐宋（1960–2022）

中国当代艺术家，1989年应邀参加中国美术展举行的“中国现代艺术展”，与艺术家肖鲁以开枪的形式完成装置作品《对话》

保拉·雷戈｜Paula Rego（1935–2022）

最有力量的女性画家之一，虽然住在伦敦但一直心系故乡葡萄牙

塔雷克·古辛｜Tarek Al-Ghoussein（1962–2022）

捕捉巴勒斯坦流民生活的摄影师

克拉斯·奥登伯格｜Claes Oldenburg（1929–2022）

波普艺术家，以各种超大号日常物雕塑为人所知

邓肯·汉纳｜Duncan Hannah（1952–2022）

画家、拼贴艺术家和地下电影明星

陈文辉（1968–2022）

新加坡资深策展人，纽约亚洲协会博物馆（Asia Society Museum）前馆长，在成立亚洲协会三年展（Asia Society Triennial）方面发挥了关键作用

倪匡（1935–2022）

香港作家、编剧、评论家，以天马行空、想象奇巧的写作风格著称

詹姆斯·艾夫莱姆·洛夫洛克｜James Ephraim Lovelock（1919–2022）

英国独立科学家、环保主义者和未来学家

珍妮弗·巴特利特｜Jennifer Bartlett（1941–2022）

美国艺术家，以将概念艺术的美学与新表现主义方法相结合而闻名

陈文辉（1968–2022）

新加坡艺术界重要人物、资深策展人和亚洲艺术倡导者

段义孚（1930–2022）

著名华裔地理学家，人文主义地理学（Humanist Geography）之父

三宅一生 Issey Miyake （1938–2022）

日本服装设计师，以其标志性的褶皱设计闻名

筱田太郎｜Taro Shinoda（1964–2022）

日本艺术家，以探究人类与自然共存关系的水彩画、影像作品和大型装置而闻名

娜塔莉亚·LL｜Natalia LL（1937–2022）

波兰艺术家，其影像作品特征为具有严厉的女性主义批判性

德米特里·弗鲁贝尔｜Dmitry Vrubel（1960–2022）

俄罗斯艺术家，代表作是其于1990年在柏林墙上创作的壁画，描绘了苏联和东德共产党领导人接吻的场景

山姆·吉列姆｜Sam Gilliam（1933–2022）

非裔美籍艺术家，华盛顿色彩画派的代表艺术家之一

让-吕克·戈达尔｜Jean-Luc Godard（1930–2022）

法国瑞士电影导演、影评人，最有影响力的新浪潮导演

伊曼诺尔·阿劳霍｜Emanoel Araujo（1940–2022）

巴西艺术家，是坐落于圣保罗的巴西非洲博物馆创始人

布莱恩·卡特林｜Brian Catling（1948–2022）

英国艺术家，拍摄怪诞的照片，也写奇幻小说

王韧（1932–2022）

舞台美术家、教育家

布鲁诺·拉图尔｜Bruno Latour（1947–2022）

质疑了自然与文化的区分的法国哲学家

吕胜中（1952–2022）

中央美术学院教授、做出了剪纸小红人的当代艺术家

金政基（1975–2022）

韩国动画家，许多中国考前班学生心中的速写大师

彼得·舍达尔｜Peter Schjeldahl（1942–2022）

美国艺术评论家，《纽约客》和《村声》艺术专栏主笔

罗德尼·格雷厄姆｜Rodney Graham（1949–2022）

加拿大艺术家，与致力于探索影像媒体和概念主义的“温哥华学派”有较深的关联

比利·阿尔·本斯顿｜Billy Al Bengston（1934–2022）

美国艺术家，二十世纪中期活跃于洛杉矶艺术界的艺术家，以描绘加州“Kustom”汽车和摩托车文化的作品而闻名

西尔克·奥托-克纳普｜Silke Otto-Knapp（1970–2022）

德国艺术家，其绘画灵感来自20世纪的舞蹈、戏剧和表演

皮埃尔·苏拉｜Pierre Soulages（1919–2022）

法国艺术家，以黑色抽象绘画和抽象表现主义的创新而闻名

莉·邦特科｜Lee Bontecou （1931–2022）

美国雕塑家、版画家，先锋女性艺术家，成名于上世纪60年代以男性为主导的纽约艺术界

阿什利·比克顿｜Ashley Bickerton（1959–2022）

戏讽消费主义和异国情调、并且搬到了亚洲的艺术家

吴冠英（1955–2022）

风格动画与漫画艺术家、教育家、北京奥运会吉祥物“福娃”创作组主要成员

严定宪（1936–2022）

《大闹天宫》《小蝌蚪找妈妈》等影片动画设计、《哪吒闹海》参与导演

薇薇恩·韦斯特伍德 ｜Vivienne Westwood（1941–2022）

英国设计师、环保倡导者

西西（1937–2022）

香港女作家、诗人

玛雅·维德迈尔-毕加索｜Maya Widmaier-Picasso（1935–2022）

西班牙画家巴勃罗·毕加索（Pablo Picasso）和玛丽-特蕾莎·沃特（Marie-Thérèse Walter）的独生女，毕加索遗产的守护人

✦ 撰文：聂小依　✦ 整理：ArtReview China编辑部

Machine translation (AI) of the Chinese original, not yet reviewed by the author. Please cite the original.

In the last few hours of 2022, a proper goodbye to this year.

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There is no way to do a review of 2022. Even as it comes to an end, the grief, the mourning, the absurdity and the anger are not finished. We haven’t properly lived through this year yet; we haven’t done justice to what happened to ourselves and to others. So how are we supposed to end it? A friend said: “I’ve seen a few looks back at 2022 that finish with ‘and so we move into life in 2023’. And I just think – my God, how do you move into it? How much courage would that take?”

At the end of 2022, going somewhat against the grain of the art world’s grand year-end round-ups, the ArtReview China editorial team chose to look inwards. I got in touch with some friends working in the field and asked them how this year had really felt. What they said lifted the end of the year, for a while, out of the realm of things that can be summed up. Many times I wanted to say: yes, I feel that too.

Battered and Bruised

B, who works in Beijing, said the word that jumped into her head was “collapse”. Through this year’s rounds of lockdown, postponed and cancelled exhibitions, forums, fairs and projects became routine. Working from home gradually lost the early small relief of not having to commute, and online meetings became something to be endured. When plans fall through again and again, even planning work two weeks ahead no longer feels as certain as it once did. In Shanghai in November, when ART021 and West Bund Art & Design were cancelled at the last minute, the fair adverts lining the streets looked perfectly cloudless in the mild weather, which made you feel twice as powerless. A friend reminded me that the West Bund Art Center had once been a fangcang – a makeshift quarantine hospital.

This has gone on for a full three years now, and cancelled plans are the least of the disappointments. More often we have had to face the caving-in of life itself, and, again and again, prop up our bodies and squeeze out a bit more strength: make one more plan, raise our voices a little, run away, earn money, protest – wring out a little confidence. Living like this brings an exhaustion and wear that has fallen on almost everyone. Song Yi, who has always travelled light and has built connections with artists in many places across China, said that for him the past year came down to one character – “hurt” – and one phrase, “battered and bruised”: “I don’t think there’s often been a year when almost everyone around me has been left battered and bruised.”

These injuries include not only the constant pruning back of the shoots and leaves people send out as they reach towards the world, but also the tiny controls applied continually to everyone’s body. Yineng, an editor, said what he felt most in the past year was “codes”. Health codes, travel codes – with their 24-, 48- and 72-hour deadlines, their red, yellow and green, their zones marked out by signal tracking – gave our bodies and our time even more of a shape this year (yes, in many places the code-scanning only really intensified this year). A shape this definite is one that has been stitched together and squeezed out. Once the outside pressure is suddenly removed, life spills all over the floor, and the core of people’s lives has long since vanished. And even when the controls are gone, there is still the endless news to face – medicines already stripped from the shelves in rural China and on the edges of its cities, the countless missiles landing on Ukrainian soil, young people who have not been heard from. “Doomscrolling” – that was the curator Nikita Yingqian Cai’s verdict on 2022.

Curtain Fall

When people working in the art industry in China were asked how 2022 had felt, few talked about anything to do with art. Indeed, perhaps over these three years art has simply not mattered at all in this world. But we work in this field, and changes in the industry bring drastic changes to everyone’s lives. The curator and artist Chen Baiqi said he felt the curtain falling on an era. In May, Times Art Center Berlin closed its physical space; in August, Times Museum in Guangzhou announced that its exhibition programme would soon be suspended. Baiqi, who has opened a bakery, said: “The end of the real-estate era means a batch of art institutions will have fulfilled their historical mission.” Lu Jie, who has gone to teach at the China Academy of Art, has repeated his own verdict on several occasions: institutions and the ecosystem are bound to be replaced by a new generation.

A tide of commercialisation has swept in. Open BOSS Zhipin, the recruitment app, and there seem to be plenty of art-related jobs – tutoring for students applying to study art abroad, planning and running all kinds of art spaces, new-media director (which mostly means editing a WeChat account). Lillian, who has just graduated and come back to China, is, like many young artists, working out on her return how to balance making work with making a living (and finding that life itself is full of obstacles). In fact, the education industry, the media industry and window design for new retail don’t really connect with the art world; most of the time people can only become bottom-rung labourers with an artistic skill. In the craze for art × technology, many commercial crossover opportunities cite UCCA Lab as a reference, hoping this model will work out in future and bring financial returns. One artist friend found relatively stable work in the tech industry, designing and releasing NFTs at a big tech company; when I was deep in the mountains of Guizhou, a friend I had just met mentioned going to Singapore to invest – the future is a refuge you can escape to, and Web 3.0 offers a future that can attract investment and confidence. When reality is already a wasteland, what people need most is a future.

White

The PCR tests and travel codes suddenly disappeared, the security guards no longer stop passers-by, and masks can come off. It is all like waking from a long dream, as if the humiliation had never existed – and this erasure makes the three years feel all the more stolen. Lightness and weight have arrived together at the end of the year: the easy reset and the heaviness no one has faced, both dragging people into a panic. The artist Zhang Wenxin sent me this –

“White. The colour that made people tremble most in 2022. It stands for the most extreme emotions of this year. It was worn by many anonymous people as they inflicted violence, and, in the form of ‘nothing’, it also spoke of too many truths that cannot be spelled out. In Chinese folk custom it is the colour of death and of the soul, and it is also the colour in which lifeless machines keep people under control.”

Where do we begin to recover our confidence and rebuild this wasteland? A while ago I came across the concept of “healing justice”, introduced by the researcher Chen Binhua: after trauma, we need to give ourselves time, breathe, slow down, observe our own bodies, build connections with real people, and let ourselves settle back into our surroundings. Li Lin of Swimming Office said: “When I moved from Dalian to Shanghai I wanted to live among people, because in Dalian I had no contact at all with the people near my home – I only saw friends, and never had the chance to get to know the people physically around me. This year in Shanghai I ‘had to’ get to know lots of neighbours. Some became close friends, and with some there were misunderstandings and rifts, but it was all very ‘shicheng’ – solid, weighed out honestly. Either way, it made my daily life very different.” The few meals I have eaten at Li Lin’s home gave me a sense of genuineness I hadn’t felt in a long time – a sense of reality like the “shicheng” she describes, not some professional working relationship but the texture of people. This year, although most people in our field didn’t go to Europe, documenta kept coming up in discussions here. Lumbung lumbung lumbung, politically correct, politically incorrect – these came up again and again in conversation, sometimes as a placebo for the art world, sometimes making art disappear. In a long essay recently published in e-flux, Mi You looked back over the many controversies ruangrupa became caught up in, and she ends by saying: “we might very well flex the wrong muscles for too long, until we realize politics is happening somewhere else.”

In 2022, Yishu, the English-language journal of contemporary Chinese art that had run for nearly twenty years, also went on hiatus. But I think back to interviewing Zheng Shengtian, one of Yishu’s founders, when I asked him – born in 1938 – what he thought about “plans”, and how he made plans when he was young. He laughed and said: “I never make plans. War, political campaigns, or a sudden change of policy – one person’s strength is too small. Whatever comes up, you just do that thing well.” Thinking of this, I also remember something the curator Su Wei once said: “On the mainland, research and practice follow people, not institutions.”

Saying Goodbye

Many people are spending the end of the year to the sound of coughing and wailing ambulances. This year we have seen far too much sad news. It seems more people left us in 2022 than in other years. The deaths that took over the front pages – Queen Elizabeth II, Shinzo Abe, Mikhail Gorbachev, Jiang Zemin – made people truly feel an era receding. In the last month, obituaries in China were published almost every day – there was hardly anyone who was not mourning someone. The three-year mark seems finally to have made people begin to say goodbye to this particular stretch of time. But how do you say goodbye? People, time and experiences will not vanish into thin air just because we step into 2023. Those who have died, and the things that have left us for now, have all been part of our lives – which is both fortunate and cruel. At the end of the year, as we wave goodbye to the past, we also hope that a proper farewell can help us reflect on the scars of this era. We say goodbye in order to remember what must not be forgotten.

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An incomplete list of those in art and culture who died in 2022

Lourdes Castro (1930–2022)

Portuguese artist devoted to abstract art

Laura Buckley (1977–2022)

Irish artist known for her mechanical installations

Carmen Herrera (1915–2022)

Cuban abstract artist rediscovered by the art world when she was nearly 90

Dan Graham (1942–2022)

American visual artist and writer who refused to be labelled “conceptual”

De Wain Valentine (1936–2022)

American Minimalist sculptor

John Wesley (1928–2022)

American artist who used Minimalism and Surrealism to render simple figures in uncanny scenes

Budi Tek (1957–2022)

Patriotic Indonesian-Chinese entrepreneur, art philanthropist and collector; founder of the Yuz Foundation and Yuz Museum

Mira Calix (1970–2022)

British composer and sound artist devoted to unconventional music and public sound installations

Grenville Davey (1961–2022)

Sculptor, winner of the 1992 Turner Prize

Delfina Entrecanales (1927–2022)

Spanish philanthropist who directly supported hundreds of artists; founder of the non-profit Delfina Foundation

Huang Shuqin (1939–2022)

Chinese Fourth Generation director whose Woman, Demon, Human has been called “China’s first women’s film”

Hermann Nitsch (1938–2022)

Austrian painter and performance artist, one of the pioneers and guiding spirits of Viennese Actionism

Tang Song (1960–2022)

Chinese contemporary artist, invited in 1989 to the “China/Avant-Garde” exhibition held at the National Art Museum of China, where he and the artist Xiao Lu completed the installation Dialogue by firing a gun

Paula Rego (1935–2022)

One of the most powerful women painters; though she lived in London, her heart stayed with her native Portugal

Tarek Al-Ghoussein (1962–2022)

Photographer who captured the lives of displaced Palestinians

Claes Oldenburg (1929–2022)

Pop artist known for his oversized sculptures of everyday objects

Duncan Hannah (1952–2022)

Painter, collage artist and underground film star

Tan Boon Hui (1968–2022)

Veteran Singaporean curator and former director of the Asia Society Museum in New York, who played a key role in founding the Asia Society Triennial

Ni Kuang (1935–2022)

Hong Kong writer, screenwriter and critic, famed for his wildly imaginative, ingenious style

James Ephraim Lovelock (1919–2022)

British independent scientist, environmentalist and futurist

Jennifer Bartlett (1941–2022)

American artist known for combining the aesthetics of conceptual art with a Neo-Expressionist approach

Tan Boon Hui (1968–2022)

Leading figure in Singapore’s art world, veteran curator and champion of Asian art

Yi-Fu Tuan (1930–2022)

Eminent Chinese-American geographer, the father of humanistic geography

Issey Miyake (1938–2022)

Japanese fashion designer famed for his signature pleats

Taro Shinoda (1964–2022)

Japanese artist known for watercolours, video works and large-scale installations exploring how humans and nature coexist

Natalia LL (1937–2022)

Polish artist whose photographic and film work is marked by a sharp feminist critique

Dmitri Vrubel (1960–2022)

Russian artist best known for his 1990 mural on the Berlin Wall showing the Soviet and East German Communist leaders kissing

Sam Gilliam (1933–2022)

African American artist, a leading figure of the Washington Color School

Jean-Luc Godard (1930–2022)

Franco-Swiss film director and critic, the most influential director of the New Wave

Emanoel Araujo (1940–2022)

Brazilian artist, founder of the Museu Afro Brasil in São Paulo

Brian Catling (1948–2022)

British artist who took grotesque photographs and also wrote fantasy novels

Wang Ren (1932–2022)

Stage designer and educator

Bruno Latour (1947–2022)

French philosopher who challenged the division between nature and culture

Lü Shengzhong (1952–2022)

Professor at the Central Academy of Fine Arts, the contemporary artist behind the little red paper-cut figures

Kim Jung Gi (1975–2022)

Korean illustrator, a sketching master in the eyes of many Chinese students at art-school exam prep classes

Peter Schjeldahl (1942–2022)

American art critic, art columnist for The New Yorker and The Village Voice

Rodney Graham (1949–2022)

Canadian artist closely associated with the “Vancouver School”, known for exploring photographic media and conceptualism

Billy Al Bengston (1934–2022)

American artist active in the Los Angeles art scene in the mid-twentieth century, known for works depicting California’s “Kustom” car and motorcycle culture

Silke Otto-Knapp (1970–2022)

German artist whose paintings drew on twentieth-century dance, theatre and performance

Pierre Soulages (1919–2022)

French artist known for his black abstract paintings and innovations in abstract expressionism

Lee Bontecou (1931–2022)

American sculptor and printmaker, a pioneering woman artist who made her name in the male-dominated New York art world of the 1960s

Ashley Bickerton (1959–2022)

Artist who satirised consumerism and exoticism, and moved to Asia

Wu Guanying (1955–2022)

Stylised animation and comics artist, educator, and a key member of the team that created the Fuwa mascots for the Beijing Olympics

Yan Dingxian (1936–2022)

Animation designer on films such as Havoc in Heaven and Where Is Mama?, and co-director of Nezha Conquers the Dragon King

Vivienne Westwood (1941–2022)

British designer and environmental campaigner

Xi Xi (1937–2022)

Hong Kong writer and poet

Maya Widmaier-Picasso (1935–2022)

Only daughter of the Spanish painter Pablo Picasso and Marie-Thérèse Walter, and guardian of the Picasso legacy

✦ Text: Nie Xiaoyi ✦ Compiled by: ArtReview China editorial team