O—That radio also seems to represent, again, the unseen world.
CGQ—In a sense, which made you believe truly that the US and the Soviet Union really exist. All these experiences made me believe that they do exist. All those radio stations, even outside China, they speak perfect Chinese. I still remember that the radio station of the Soviet Union, they would say, in perfect Chinese, and also in a very familiar style and an intimate kind of voice, something like, “This is the Moscow Radio Station.” But in perfect Chinese.
O—Was there any punishment for all this rebellion? Breaking windows, chasing away teachers?
CGQ—There was not really any punishment for rebelling against a teacher or going into the streets, no. No punishment. After the Cultural Revolution, the government apologized to all those who had suffered unfairly. My teacher for example, who was dispelled from the school, very likely got all her salaries back after the revolution.
O—I mentioned the stereotypes that many Americans had and still have of China—I’m curious what the Chinese stereotypes of America were, what the view of America was in your childhood and as you grew. Were there individual figures who inspired you or who defined America for you at that time?
CGQ—A longtime Chinese stereotype of the US is that of a highly militarized country, a symbol of imperialism. Very corrupt. The films we saw about America were mostly about American soldiers. They ate meat off the bones, like beasts, like monsters, and they ate canned food. That’s what we saw about American soldiers in the films. America also meant satellites, going to the moon. We saw lots of news in China. It wasn’t real news. From news like this, when we were little, we understood how great our country was. Then we started to suspect our own gover nment. Then at the end of the ‘70s, Chair man Mao passed away, and then more and more American people traveled to China as tourists. Well naturally, in the beginning, we were thinking, “Whoa, all these American tourists. It must be all those capitalists,” as portrayed in our textbooks. But then very soon we realized you’re actually just like us, students, or just civil servants, or teachers. That was another shock for the young Chinese generation back then. Very soon, there were lots and lots of Chinese translations of American books about American society and politics and culture and economy and everything, which was a very groundbreaking experience for us to learn, to have a fresh impression of America.
O—Were there any books in particular that you read that you remember?
CGQ—I almost forget their names, but definitely Carl Sagan, a book by Carl Sagan about the universe. It’s one of those books that really impacted the Chinese, and especially me.
O—Interesting. Yeah, again, I find it so kind of fitting or significant this Chinese space exploration milestone from just yesterday. It’s just a big, I think, quite a big moment for China and for the world.
CGQ—In a sense, America, the US has been like a model for the Chinese.
O—I know that this moment yesterday for Xi Jinping was very validating, because he has very vocally supported the space program there. So he’s proud.
CGQ—Lots of Chinese nowadays, they’re constantly reminding people that we have to be more humble, because indeed, there is a very large gap between China and the US. We cannot only just look at the GDPs, not just a matter of GDP. In China, almost everybody hopes to study in the US, because the US enjoys such a high level of education. It’s a very established education system, and also very open.
O—Well, we hope to keep it very open moving forward.
CGQ—Of course. I have to be very cautious when I’m taking this interview, because seriously, I cannot represent the whole China as a country. Because I’ve been living in New York for decades. 23 years.
O—Well, I won’t ask you to represent contemporary China, but good to know the old. I know your family is clearly very important to you—from seeing you interact with your grandmother in Sky Ladder or hearing you speak about learning artistic techniques from your father. You said there were no real repercussions for your rebellion, in terms of government or society. But what were your parents’ views at the time? Did they have expectations of you that you were straying from, or were they supportive of you claiming your free time for your own and acting out against the school?
CGQ—My father was a sort of timid and cautious person. I actually helped my father burn lots of his books, but I know that he secretly kept part of his book collection in the countryside. But my grandmother was very bold. Yes. Back then, everybody was against capitalism, and the free market. My grandmother was a typical example of a free market because she herself sold fish in the market, and every day she’d just earn money by herself. She was living proof that she could make a living by herself and not rely on the government. She always secretly practiced feudalism, going to pay tribute at the temples, stuff like that. Or for major festivals, if traditionally we were required to pay tributes to the gods, then she would do that, even if it was forbidden back then. I often helped her by, for example, lowering the basket of fruits as tributes for the gods into the well, because then the gods can still enjoy it, but nobody will see it.
O—So one day you’re burning the books with your father, the next day you’re lowering the offering of fruit.
CGQ—If my father knew that those offerings were for the gods, then he wouldn’t eat it, because publicly he was a Communist Party member.
O—Do you remember some of the first connections you made to explosions? For example, in America, on the Fourth of July, as you know, we experience the noise and sight of explosions as something very celebratory, but also indirectly invoking war, “bombs bursting in air.” And on Chinese New Year, exploding firecrackers are used to dispel bad spirits, things like that. Do you remember your early experiences of explosions?
CGQ—In Quanzhou, my hometown, the noise of explosions came not only from firecrackers, but also from the explosion of the rocks in the mountain to help excavate stone. Because the buildings were made of the stone exploded from the mountain. So sometimes the whole city would know there was an explosion of stones in the mountain happening, because the whole city sort of just shook for that second. In China, for a long, long period, fireworks only took place on, say, the National Day ceremony, celebrations in Tiananmen Square in Beijing. For the rest of China, and on other occasions, it was mostly just firecrackers. But even with the firecrackers, still it was very loud, of course, especially for the New Year. All the cities would be submerged in the noise of the firecrackers.
O—There’s an excitement around the noise and the vision, but is there also a sense of fear?
CGQ—For me, yes. I feared the firecrackers a lot when I was little. My grandma had to hold my hand to light the firecrackers. In my hometown, even for a funeral, there normally is a ceremony, and then this whole group of people will go a long way before they reach the cemetery. Along the way, whenever they pass a village, there should be firecrackers in order to dispel the evil spirits. It is also to inform the passed one that now it’s time to cross a bridge, now it’s time to pass a village.
O—When did you first realize you had the opportunity to depart from China?
CGQ—In the early ‘80s, people in China started to go abroad on their own, because before then they really relied on the national stipends. But then things started to change. So I first went to college in Shanghai, and then I started to get ready to go abroad. I was lucky enough to get to know an acquaintance who, at the time, was working in the Palace Museum in Beijing. He has lots of connections with the Japanese end, and arranged my study in Japan. Once I landed in the Japanese airport, there was a very strong smell that I can still vividly remember today, which is perfume and the smell of the tires of the cars. Because back then in China, there weren’t that many automobiles. I remember I landed on December the 13th, and very soon it was Christmas Day. I never experienced Christmas Day before then. It was such a lively and festive occasion for the whole city. Christmas trees and lights, everybody perfectly dressed. But I felt very lonely.
O—In Japan, it sounds like you had some struggles with the prog ress of your ar tistic career. You’ve spoken about galleries passing on your works, and you really having to persist. Was there a particular breakthrough moment for you while in Japan?
CGQ—In the beginning, I thought Japan was a capitalist country and a very democratic country. I thought I could do whatever I want. Then once I was really there, I went to this park in Japan where there are lots of museums and exhibitions. I realized that those museums and exhibitions, they all looked very much the same as their counterparts in China, which are just very realistic style. So I was very disappointed. I thought I could just do whatever I want in Japan, but the reality was different. It was not easy in the beginning to access gunpowder in Japan. While in my hometown in China, though we couldn’t do whatever we wanted for the exhibitions and artworks, gunpowder was everywhere.
O—So was America then the combination where you could do whatever you want, and we’ve got tons of gunpowder?
CGQ—No. In the US, you need a permit for the purchase and transportation of gunpowder. It’s very problematic in the US as well. Of course, contemporary art in the US was mainstream already, while for Japan back then, traditional art was still the mainstream. But in the ‘90s, contemporary art in Japan started to boom very fast. Lots of emerging museums started exhibiting contemporary art, and lots of private museums as well. So more and more contemporary art came into being, just like China today.
O—As you continued to make art, and it became clear you were making contemporary art that was not very well represented in China, were you in communication with people back home? What were their reactions to your art? Were you gaining attention or was it still too strange?
CGQ—When I was in China, I was not that close to my artist peers. Nor was I one of the official artists, who often have official exhibitions expedited. For those official artists, they had national government salaries and stipends, but of course they had to paint per the requirements of the government. But I was also not part of any school. For those school artists, they often used art as a tool to express their political agenda, and I was not part of them either. They were intentionally rebellious against the government. For me, I was just myself, very individual. I was not against or for the system. In Japan, of course, I came to know artists who were more like me, artists who hoped to make a living, but with their own power and capacity. This is very different from China. The mentality that you have to make a living and to survive in the society and even to support your family with your own hands, with paint, this is a very different mentality than those Chinese artists.
O—What was it that eventually drew you to the United States, and why New York?
CGQ—In Japan, bit by bit, I became a star artist who was loved by everyone. But in my Japan period, most of my exhibitions happened in Europe, not in the US. I knew back then that almost the whole world is thinking about the US, including its art market and art museums and galleries and artists and their schools, the emerging schools in the US. And Matthew Barney came on stage in the ‘90s, and Bruce Nauman. So for me, I felt it would be the right decision to go to America and to live there. Instead of living in Japan, and then only doing exhibitions in Europe, and then back to Japan. No, that’s not the lifestyle I envisioned. Since the whole world is talking about the US, then why don’t I just live in the US and do exhibitions around the world?
O—Was it your first time, or had you exhibited here or visited as a tourist?
CGQ—I had only come here once before then, to see the Grand Canyon. I visited New York once on the same trip. It was a great experience. So then I was more determined to try to move to New York. The Asian Cultural Council expressed a desire to help me, but back then the Japanese side said that Cai is not Japanese, so he cannot come to the US as a Japanese representative and receive this grant. So I waited a few years, and started having exhibitions in various places in the world as a Japanese representative, as a Japanese artist.
O—To sort of prove a track record in representing Japan?
CGQ—Yeah. Also the Tokyo Museum of Contemporary Art had just opened, in Japan, and held an exhibition entitled Art in Japan Today: 1985-1995. The biggest artwork in the exhibition was mine. Perfect proof. So the ACC approached the Japanese side again, and they decided it should not be a problem for Cai to come to the US as a Japanese representative. I came that year.
O—How did you adapt? Did you have a family yet?
CGQ—Yeah, I got married in Japan and had my first daughter, and then we moved to the US together. When I first arrived in the US, I felt I was back to when I first arrived in Japan. But more specifically, when I first arrived in Japan, I felt I went back to the past of China. When I was first in the US, I felt I was in the future of China.
O—In both cases, you felt isolated or alone?
CGQ—Indeed. I feel I have been lonely and isolated. I’m just like a super meteor. And also a nomad.
O—But is that something that ultimately you enjoy, and that helps you in your artistic practice?
CGQ— Yeah. For artists, they often complain that they’re lonely, but they also enjoy being lonely.
O—Do you feel that your art provides a way for you to share yourself, and engage with people in a way that perhaps you don’t in an everyday context?
CGQ—Indeed. I feel art constitutes my isolated world, but it’s also a time-space channel for me. It allows me to come into my own world and then go outside of it to mess up a little bit, or to start something up and then come back to myself again. Through my art, I socialize with people and then get into the communities and engage them. But at the end of the day, I still come back to myself, my own art world, and back to the lonely state. In a sense, this time- space channel allowed me to go between the east and the west, between the art and the heart, and see an unseen world.
O—You’ve spoken about 9/11 as a significant experience for you personally, living in New York. Do you think sharing the pain of the city and the culture bonded you to it?
CGQ—Before September 11, my mentality was very much the same as what I had in Japan, which was that I was a guest here. But after September 11, I felt I belong here. Also, after September 11, I feel my artwork started to be more rooted to this ground. I started to have solo exhibitions at MASS MoCA and then the Met, and the Guggenheim, partly because my artworks had become engaged in more dialogues with the local culture. In a sense, I changed after September 11, regarding this country as my own place, regarding this culture as part of my own culture. My artworks, and then hence their subjects and content also changed as a result of it.