“Lindy Lee: Our Original Face” by J. Anurendra

Looking at Lindy’s paintings is an act of meditation. Listen to the silence and feel the stillness. The bloody red; the sublime, acute indigo and blue and the rich golden orange all draw you into the looming black portraits of vaguely familiar aunts and cousins… of old identity card photos and studio snapshots from old family albums of school friends our parents only vaguely remember now. The sounds we think we hear strike painfully at the notes of memory. In these paintings, iconic Shanghai figure-types are stripped of their trivial contemporary poster-shop pop to confront us with the bittersweet resonance of a lost past. We are pulled into a space where the tunnel deepens, where the colors intensify around silent Kuanyin, where the grids fill with light around heavy black Buddha beads.

Full essay can be found in catalogue.