Alimjan Adil, Lei Yu, Huang Haiyan, Ji Ye
Realms of Their Own
Tabula Rasa Gallery, Beijing
5 September - 24 October 2026
Realms of Their Own
Tabula Rasa Gallery, Beijing
5 September - 24 October 2026
In Conversation with Lei Yu: Living Through the Work
Beijing, September 9, 2026
This conversation between Isabelle of Tabula Rasa Gallery and artist Lei Yu explores her life in the mountains, her approach to lacquer painting, and her recent works.
TRG
You have lived in Beifeng Mountain for nearly ten years. How has this environment influenced your practice?
The subjects I’m interested in are closely connected to life in the mountains, and that’s also why I’ve been able to stay there for so long. If, at some point in the future, my practice is no longer focused on this kind of environment, I might go somewhere else and see what happens.
If I moved to a completely unfamiliar environment, I think the work would change as well. A slow, quiet environment that is close to nature brings a particular atmosphere into the work. When I was working in my teacher’s studio, the surroundings were much closer to nature. It was harder to get online or even buy groceries, but every day you could hear the sound of running water and observe insects and plants changing over time. Back then, I felt that the mountains were like a huge archive of material.
Later, I moved my studio into town. Although I was still surrounded by nature, my relationship with it had changed. It took me more than a year, perhaps even two, to adjust. That was also when I realised just how dependent I am on my surroundings.
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TRG
How would you describe the relationship between your current lacquer practice and traditional lacquer art? How did you develop your own approach?
TRG
So for you, the language of painting comes before the material?
Lei Yu
Yes. Materials and techniques serve the image. Whatever the painting needs, I choose the appropriate technique to achieve it. That’s why I’ve always considered my approach to be quite simple, even somewhat clumsy.
TRG
Do you draw your colours from the natural world around you, or do you have your own way of sensing and selecting them?
TRG
Do you retain any of the forms from reality?
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TRG
How does your current approach relate to the traditional technique of biantu (“变涂”)? What are you most concerned with in this process?
TRG
Working with lacquer requires waiting and constant experimentation. How does this particular rhythm of time enter your practice?
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Image by Lei Yu, Courtesy of the artist.
The same is true of colour. Lacquer has its own limitations in terms of colour. Unlike oil or acrylic, you can’t simply choose from a large range of ready-made colours. Some colours can only be achieved through repeated testing. Once the lacquer has been applied to the panel, its colour will change as it dries and oxidises, so I have to test it first and then make adjustments based on how it ultimately develops.
All of this is part of the “invisible experimental work” behind the making of a painting.
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TRG
In your earlier works, the “thorn” was an important image. Does it still carry the same meaning in your recent works?
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TRG
You have previously spoken about the relationship between “holding in” and “letting out.” Was this relationship also connected to your state of mind at the time?
TRG
So could Near, yet boundless and Boom! be understood as a relationship between “inward” and “outward”?
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TRG
So Boom! isn’t simply an explosion, but rather a continuous force pushing and expanding outward?
TRG
Your works can create an impulse in the viewer to move closer, even to touch them. Is this kind of physical engagement with the work important to you?
ABOUT THE ARTIST
Lei Yu was born in Fuzhou, China, in 1990. She received her bachelor’s degree in lacquer art from the China Academy of Art in 2014 and currently lives and works in Fuzhou. Working primarily with lacquer, Lei explores the relationship between material, time, the body and the natural world. Her practice is shaped by the physical processes of coating, layering, polishing and waiting, as well as by the changing environment surrounding her studio in the mountains of Beifeng. Through these processes, she draws out lacquer’s contrasting qualities—its hardness and fragility, permanence and susceptibility to change. Her solo exhibitions include The Jade in Solitude, the Stone in Mediocrity, Hunsand Space, Hangzhou (2025). Selected group exhibitions include Mise en Abyme: Touring Exhibition of Creative Forces from Fujian, Model Bookstore, Beijing (2024); Bon Voyage, CAIRA ROOM, Shanghai (2024); Affinity of Objects: Quan Er 10th Anniversary Exhibition, Shanghai (2023); Landscapes, Hunsand Contemporary Art Centre, Shijiazhuang (2022); and Gravity Project, Fuzhou (2022). Lei received the Bronze Award of the Lin Fengmian Graduation Creation Awards from the China Academy of Art. Her work is held in the collection of the Fujian Art Museum.
Beijing, September 9, 2026
TRG = Tabula Rasa Gallery
This conversation between Isabelle of Tabula Rasa Gallery and artist Lei Yu explores her life in the mountains, her approach to lacquer painting, and her recent works.
TRG
You have lived in Beifeng Mountain for nearly ten years. How has this environment influenced your practice?
Lei Yu
I’ve been living in the mountains for almost ten years now. The reason I’ve been able to stay is because the surrounding environment continues to give me a kind of nourishment. It’s something that accumulates slowly over a long period of time—you don’t see the results immediately. In that sense, it’s very similar to the way I work with lacquer. Both are slow processes, moving forward step by step, steadily and patiently.
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I’ve been living in the mountains for almost ten years now. The reason I’ve been able to stay is because the surrounding environment continues to give me a kind of nourishment. It’s something that accumulates slowly over a long period of time—you don’t see the results immediately. In that sense, it’s very similar to the way I work with lacquer. Both are slow processes, moving forward step by step, steadily and patiently.
Image by Lei Yu, Courtesy of the artist.
The subjects I’m interested in are closely connected to life in the mountains, and that’s also why I’ve been able to stay there for so long. If, at some point in the future, my practice is no longer focused on this kind of environment, I might go somewhere else and see what happens.
If I moved to a completely unfamiliar environment, I think the work would change as well. A slow, quiet environment that is close to nature brings a particular atmosphere into the work. When I was working in my teacher’s studio, the surroundings were much closer to nature. It was harder to get online or even buy groceries, but every day you could hear the sound of running water and observe insects and plants changing over time. Back then, I felt that the mountains were like a huge archive of material.
Later, I moved my studio into town. Although I was still surrounded by nature, my relationship with it had changed. It took me more than a year, perhaps even two, to adjust. That was also when I realised just how dependent I am on my surroundings.
Image by Lei Yu, Courtesy of the artist.
TRG
How would you describe the relationship between your current lacquer practice and traditional lacquer art? How did you develop your own approach?
Lei Yu
In the past, when I worked with lacquer, I often didn’t have a particularly strong subjective intention. Instead, I wanted to move away from the way lacquer had sometimes been used to create a visually elaborate effect through layers of craft and ornamentation. Perhaps because of living in the mountains, I gradually became drawn towards a quieter state of mind, and I wanted the paintings to convey that.
I started experimenting with monochrome and with subtle breaks between different layers of colour. The same colour can change depending on the weather and the conditions in which it is applied. I’m willing to accept those naturally occurring variations. From a distance, a painting might appear to be a single colour, but when you look closely, you begin to see all these subtle differences.
Take a field of green grass. From far away, it simply looks green, but up close there are countless different greens. The grass also goes through cycles of growth and decay. I want the changes between layers of colour to bring a sense of time into the painting.
I don’t think I’ve made any major breakthrough in terms of technique. What matters more to me is how the language of painting develops.
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In the past, when I worked with lacquer, I often didn’t have a particularly strong subjective intention. Instead, I wanted to move away from the way lacquer had sometimes been used to create a visually elaborate effect through layers of craft and ornamentation. Perhaps because of living in the mountains, I gradually became drawn towards a quieter state of mind, and I wanted the paintings to convey that.
I started experimenting with monochrome and with subtle breaks between different layers of colour. The same colour can change depending on the weather and the conditions in which it is applied. I’m willing to accept those naturally occurring variations. From a distance, a painting might appear to be a single colour, but when you look closely, you begin to see all these subtle differences.
Take a field of green grass. From far away, it simply looks green, but up close there are countless different greens. The grass also goes through cycles of growth and decay. I want the changes between layers of colour to bring a sense of time into the painting.
I don’t think I’ve made any major breakthrough in terms of technique. What matters more to me is how the language of painting develops.
Save time in moving back No.2
lacquer, hemp, board, aluminium foil, 49 x 60 cm, 2022
lacquer, hemp, board, aluminium foil, 49 x 60 cm, 2022
TRG
So for you, the language of painting comes before the material?
Lei Yu
Yes. Materials and techniques serve the image. Whatever the painting needs, I choose the appropriate technique to achieve it. That’s why I’ve always considered my approach to be quite simple, even somewhat clumsy.
TRG
Do you draw your colours from the natural world around you, or do you have your own way of sensing and selecting them?
Lei Yu
Although some of the forms in my paintings are not immediately recognisable, there is usually a corresponding image or impression in my mind when I’m working. Sometimes I choose a colour based on the thing itself; other times, I deliberately overturn its original colour.
For example, I might paint a green field of grass red. In the past, I would think about what colour something should be. Now I’m more interested in changing that expectation and creating more space for play and imagination within the image.
Although some of the forms in my paintings are not immediately recognisable, there is usually a corresponding image or impression in my mind when I’m working. Sometimes I choose a colour based on the thing itself; other times, I deliberately overturn its original colour.
For example, I might paint a green field of grass red. In the past, I would think about what colour something should be. Now I’m more interested in changing that expectation and creating more space for play and imagination within the image.
TRG
Do you retain any of the forms from reality?
Lei Yu
Sometimes. A tree, for example, may still retain the impression of being a tree, but I might alter its form so that it takes on something of the quality of fire. An iron mesh structure might originally be a cube, but I’ll change both its form and colour.
So what ultimately appears in the painting isn’t necessarily something you could directly encounter in reality. The process relies more on intuition—making decisions according to how I feel in that particular moment.
Sometimes. A tree, for example, may still retain the impression of being a tree, but I might alter its form so that it takes on something of the quality of fire. An iron mesh structure might originally be a cube, but I’ll change both its form and colour.
So what ultimately appears in the painting isn’t necessarily something you could directly encounter in reality. The process relies more on intuition—making decisions according to how I feel in that particular moment.
Hesitate to move
lacquer, hemp, board, 53 x 40 cm, 2022
lacquer, hemp, board, 53 x 40 cm, 2022
TRG
How does your current approach relate to the traditional technique of biantu (“变涂”)? What are you most concerned with in this process?
Lei Yu
My understanding of biantu is probably a little different from how others might understand it. One of the more classical approaches is essentially about refining the surface again and again. Traditionally, biantu might emphasise what is known as “plain refinement”: the surface appears to be a single colour, even though many layers have already been applied underneath.
I prefer to retain some of the random effects that emerge when different layers of colour are sanded through. I’m not only interested in the very top layer. When sanding, judging the thickness of each layer requires a lot of experience. If it’s too thin, you can easily sand right through it.
Later, I realised that even when each layer of colour comes from different weather conditions and different states, they might look very different immediately after being sanded, but over time they gradually move towards something in between. I’m willing to accept that change.
There’s a phrase in lacquer work: “the colour opens up.” Different colours eventually move towards a more harmonious state. So for me, what matters is still how the language of painting develops, rather than whether the technique itself constitutes some kind of breakthrough.
![]()
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My understanding of biantu is probably a little different from how others might understand it. One of the more classical approaches is essentially about refining the surface again and again. Traditionally, biantu might emphasise what is known as “plain refinement”: the surface appears to be a single colour, even though many layers have already been applied underneath.
I prefer to retain some of the random effects that emerge when different layers of colour are sanded through. I’m not only interested in the very top layer. When sanding, judging the thickness of each layer requires a lot of experience. If it’s too thin, you can easily sand right through it.
Later, I realised that even when each layer of colour comes from different weather conditions and different states, they might look very different immediately after being sanded, but over time they gradually move towards something in between. I’m willing to accept that change.
There’s a phrase in lacquer work: “the colour opens up.” Different colours eventually move towards a more harmonious state. So for me, what matters is still how the language of painting develops, rather than whether the technique itself constitutes some kind of breakthrough.
Save time in moving back No.5
lacquer, hemp, board, aluminium foil, lacquer powder, mother of pearl, 40 x 40 cm, 2022
lacquer, hemp, board, aluminium foil, lacquer powder, mother of pearl, 40 x 40 cm, 2022
TRG
Working with lacquer requires waiting and constant experimentation. How does this particular rhythm of time enter your practice?
Lei Yu
I usually work on several pieces at the same time, dividing them into different groups. While one painting is waiting to dry, I’ll work on another, so I’m always moving between different stages of the process.
The condition of lacquer is also affected by the season, temperature, and humidity. Sometimes the surface appears dry while the layer underneath is still wet, which can cause wrinkles and other changes. If that isn’t the effect I want, I have to control it by adjusting the humidity, the steaming time, and so on. So there’s a lot of constant experimentation involved.
I usually work on several pieces at the same time, dividing them into different groups. While one painting is waiting to dry, I’ll work on another, so I’m always moving between different stages of the process.
The condition of lacquer is also affected by the season, temperature, and humidity. Sometimes the surface appears dry while the layer underneath is still wet, which can cause wrinkles and other changes. If that isn’t the effect I want, I have to control it by adjusting the humidity, the steaming time, and so on. So there’s a lot of constant experimentation involved.
Image by Lei Yu, Courtesy of the artist.
The same is true of colour. Lacquer has its own limitations in terms of colour. Unlike oil or acrylic, you can’t simply choose from a large range of ready-made colours. Some colours can only be achieved through repeated testing. Once the lacquer has been applied to the panel, its colour will change as it dries and oxidises, so I have to test it first and then make adjustments based on how it ultimately develops.
All of this is part of the “invisible experimental work” behind the making of a painting.
Studio view, Image by Lei Yu, Courtesy of the artist.
TRG
In your earlier works, the “thorn” was an important image. Does it still carry the same meaning in your recent works?
Lei Yu
I think it has moved away from the context it had back then. The “thorn” in my mind has become more of a feeling. When I first encountered it, it was a form. I was interested in experiencing the symbolic meaning carried by that form. But in this year’s new works, it has become more like a sensitivity, a state of being, rather than something with a clearly defined meaning.
Take Near, yet boundless for example. It is connected to a feeling of long-term abandonment, of being gradually covered by grass. The vitality of the grass and the speed at which it grows correspond to the sharp, pointed forms in the painting. For me, it is more about a sensation.
I think it has moved away from the context it had back then. The “thorn” in my mind has become more of a feeling. When I first encountered it, it was a form. I was interested in experiencing the symbolic meaning carried by that form. But in this year’s new works, it has become more like a sensitivity, a state of being, rather than something with a clearly defined meaning.
Take Near, yet boundless for example. It is connected to a feeling of long-term abandonment, of being gradually covered by grass. The vitality of the grass and the speed at which it grows correspond to the sharp, pointed forms in the painting. For me, it is more about a sensation.
Near, yet boundless
lacquer, hemp, board, lacquer powder, mother of pearl, 60 x 50 cm, 2026
lacquer, hemp, board, lacquer powder, mother of pearl, 60 x 50 cm, 2026
TRG
You have previously spoken about the relationship between “holding in” and “letting out.” Was this relationship also connected to your state of mind at the time?
Lei Yu
Yes, it was very closely connected to how I was feeling at the time. I was extremely busy, and there was a certain imbalance between my work and my own practice. At the same time, the grass around me kept growing into the house. You start to feel that your open space is getting smaller and smaller, while everything outside keeps pushing its way in. The whole environment becomes messy and overgrown.
I had a feeling that I was about to be completely covered by the grass. Later, when I went to clear it away, I saw the strength of the roots beneath the ground. That strength is invisible. As long as there is even the smallest crack, the roots can find their way through and keep growing. That sensation eventually entered the painting.
Yes, it was very closely connected to how I was feeling at the time. I was extremely busy, and there was a certain imbalance between my work and my own practice. At the same time, the grass around me kept growing into the house. You start to feel that your open space is getting smaller and smaller, while everything outside keeps pushing its way in. The whole environment becomes messy and overgrown.
I had a feeling that I was about to be completely covered by the grass. Later, when I went to clear it away, I saw the strength of the roots beneath the ground. That strength is invisible. As long as there is even the smallest crack, the roots can find their way through and keep growing. That sensation eventually entered the painting.
TRG
So could Near, yet boundless and Boom! be understood as a relationship between “inward” and “outward”?
Lei Yu
Yes. Near, yet boundless is more of an inward state, while Boom! moves from the inside out. It is about generating a force from within, in order to balance or resist external forces.
In the middle, I chose very sharp points carved from shell, allowing that energy generated from within to manifest outwardly. So the two paintings are related as one moving inward and the other moving outward.
Yes. Near, yet boundless is more of an inward state, while Boom! moves from the inside out. It is about generating a force from within, in order to balance or resist external forces.
In the middle, I chose very sharp points carved from shell, allowing that energy generated from within to manifest outwardly. So the two paintings are related as one moving inward and the other moving outward.
Boom!
lacquer, hemp, board, mother of pearl, 60 x 50 cm, 2026
lacquer, hemp, board, mother of pearl, 60 x 50 cm, 2026
TRG
So Boom! isn’t simply an explosion, but rather a continuous force pushing and expanding outward?
Lei Yu
Yes, it’s a feeling of continuously pushing outward. I think black itself contains a very strong sense of power, and black lacquer in particular is incredibly captivating.
Even if there is a shadow there in the present moment, once you stretch that shadow out, it will eventually pass. So the work has moved away from my original association with the “thorn” and become more about a feeling.
My current approach to making work is to begin with an impression like this and then find a way to express the feeling it contains.
Yes, it’s a feeling of continuously pushing outward. I think black itself contains a very strong sense of power, and black lacquer in particular is incredibly captivating.
Even if there is a shadow there in the present moment, once you stretch that shadow out, it will eventually pass. So the work has moved away from my original association with the “thorn” and become more about a feeling.
My current approach to making work is to begin with an impression like this and then find a way to express the feeling it contains.
TRG
Your works can create an impulse in the viewer to move closer, even to touch them. Is this kind of physical engagement with the work important to you?
Lei Yu
I think either way is fine. The material itself has its own qualities. Even if you don’t paint anything at all, simply applying a layer of lacquer and polishing it to 3000 grit can naturally create a mirror-like reflection. That in itself is fascinating.
But I also don’t want the gloss of the material to attract too much attention. Sometimes the reflection makes it difficult to tell whether you’re looking at your own reflection or at the painting. I still want the image itself to remain the primary object of attention.
I think either way is fine. The material itself has its own qualities. Even if you don’t paint anything at all, simply applying a layer of lacquer and polishing it to 3000 grit can naturally create a mirror-like reflection. That in itself is fascinating.
But I also don’t want the gloss of the material to attract too much attention. Sometimes the reflection makes it difficult to tell whether you’re looking at your own reflection or at the painting. I still want the image itself to remain the primary object of attention.
ABOUT THE ARTIST
Lei Yu was born in Fuzhou, China, in 1990. She received her bachelor’s degree in lacquer art from the China Academy of Art in 2014 and currently lives and works in Fuzhou. Working primarily with lacquer, Lei explores the relationship between material, time, the body and the natural world. Her practice is shaped by the physical processes of coating, layering, polishing and waiting, as well as by the changing environment surrounding her studio in the mountains of Beifeng. Through these processes, she draws out lacquer’s contrasting qualities—its hardness and fragility, permanence and susceptibility to change. Her solo exhibitions include The Jade in Solitude, the Stone in Mediocrity, Hunsand Space, Hangzhou (2025). Selected group exhibitions include Mise en Abyme: Touring Exhibition of Creative Forces from Fujian, Model Bookstore, Beijing (2024); Bon Voyage, CAIRA ROOM, Shanghai (2024); Affinity of Objects: Quan Er 10th Anniversary Exhibition, Shanghai (2023); Landscapes, Hunsand Contemporary Art Centre, Shijiazhuang (2022); and Gravity Project, Fuzhou (2022). Lei received the Bronze Award of the Lin Fengmian Graduation Creation Awards from the China Academy of Art. Her work is held in the collection of the Fujian Art Museum.
Tabula Rasa Gallery (London)
Unit One, 99 East Road,
Hoxton, London
N1 6AQ
Unit One, 99 East Road,
Hoxton, London
N1 6AQ
Tuesday - Saturday 12:00 - 18:00 | Sunday - Monday Closed
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