Among the students I taught during the several decades when I was at China Academy of Art, those from Henan Province can be counted on one's fingers. Two of them left a comparatively deep impression on me, one being Jianyi Geng, the other Pingjun Shang. With fine and delicate features and a gentle voice, they were both  different from those "Henanese" with stereotypical traits in people's impression.
　　However, it was not long before I discovered that Pingjun was not that gentle and easy-going, and even somewhat stubborn. This rather showed to some extent the inherent qualities of natives of Henan. When sitting in front of the easel, he didn't seem to pay much attention to the model, and didn't glance right and left either; instead, he did a few strokes unhurriedly as if no one else was present, and he spent much more time in sitting meditating than drawing something on the canvas. Some teachers didn't quite approve of the way he did a painting, but he didn't care about it and still drew silently some slender and simple images, similar to those by Giacometti, by adding some strokes repeatedly. Seeing that he had his own ideas, I left him to paint as he pleased.
　　The structure of art education in China in the 1980s didn't differ much from that of the past. The division of faculties and subjects and the syllabus were like vertical and horizontal frames which fixed the students strictly in the same position. I wanted very much to make some changes after I assumed the office of the dean of the Oil Painting Faculty, but it was unexpectedly difficult. Only after my colleagues and I made tremendous effort did we secure for the students the opportunity to take cross-faculty elective courses. Therefore, whenever I saw students who were unwilling to conform to convention, sympathy with them was my first response. As it was not easy to have the courage to think independently in those years, naturally I want all the more that they would go far. This was also my attitude to Pingjun.
　　After I left China Academy of Art, I didn't see him again until 2008 when I went to attend a discussion of an international forum at Tsinghua University. Quite different from the former undisciplined Pingjun in my memory, he was now such a mature and discreet person that he seemed to be able to handle various situations with ease though what he attended to was a large-scale academic activity. I felt all the more astonished when he told me that, among other things, he was the academic director of Tsinghua Art, for as far as I know, very few oil painters have the solid foundation and enough patience needed in the work dealing with writing and editing.
　　I was similarly surprised when I saw his works produced in recent years. Though my focus has been on the is closely linked with new practice of contemporary art, I still pay much attention to conventional forms. I never approve such remarks as "painting is outmoded" or "painting is dead". I think that any form of art has its own vitality. What counts is whether the artist have something to say and can express it truthfully. Most of Pingjun's works are abstract paintings. Some sporadic dots, strokes or textures are scattered in the vast color field that covers the whole painting, and there are even fewer, simpler and emptier things in his paintings now than when he was at the academy. However, I seem to have sensed in them the track of his journey through life. Quite a lot of people lead a life similar to addition: the more they want to get, the heavier their burden will be. Only a few people lead a life similar to subtraction: they can remove their burdens little by little and finally may enjoy tranquility, a state that has a strong appeal.
　　The "inherent attribute" is mentioned in the doctrine of Laozi and Zhuangzi. "Things have different qualities and they all have their respective duties. Therefore everything is expected to do only what they ought to." One's restless personality in his boyhood will not change with his age. In fact I was not very surprised when I met Pingjun about thirty years later. I know that Pingjun advocates Buddhism himself. He says in his letter to me, "The highest realm of Buddhism is 'the great freedom': when we are confronted with various circumstances, whether they are success, failure, joy, sorrow, gain, loss, blame or praise, all things shown in life will not fetter our inner heart. This is the realm I am pursuing." I think it is lucky that this traditional thought and system of ours that ruin and suppress individuality is not always effective. In the world of today in which the desire for material comfort is dominant and honesty is lost, there are still such artists as Pingjun who are persevering in and pursuing the realm of "great freedom" unremittingly.

Contributed by Shengtian Zheng

作者：Shengtian,Zheng