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Gleaning the Ancient Light by Felicia Li

Exhibition  /  05 Sep 2026  -  27 Sep 2026
Published: 17.09.2026
Gleaning the Ancient Light by Felicia Li.

© By the author. Read Klimt02.net Copyright.

Intro
Gleaning the Ancient Light, derived from Zhang Ruoxu's classic poem "Spring River in the Flower Moon Night", the line When did the river moon first shine upon a human? (江月何年初照人) encapsulates a dialogue between the "eternal" (the river moon) and the "me in the present moment" (the human). To me, traditional Chinese culture, including its mythological systems and folklore, is that very moon which once shone upon the ancients.

Artist list

Felicia Li
Meanwhile, traditional Chinese crafts (such as metalwork, shadow puppetry, and horsetail embroidery) and attire (the traditional Han Chinese clothing system) serve as the "water-like" material textures illuminated by the moonlight. Whether it feels piercing or warm, the moonlight bathing the "me" standing by the river endows me with a visceral, personal experience. "When did it first shine upon a human?" perfectly conveys this exhilarating spirit of wandering freely between ancient and modern times.

The exhibition does not attempt to preach "what traditional culture is." Instead, using jewelry as a medium, it reflects on how we perceive these traditions in the present day. It carries a profound historical depth, spanning from mythological tales to traditional craft and clothing systems, and ultimately to my personal experience. Simultaneously, it seeks the origin and original intention, tracing things back to their source (what is the source of the myth, the initial form of the craft, the very first touchpoint of the creative impulse?). The character "初" (first/initial) also implies a reset and restart: I am not creating antique replicas; rather, I am returning to an "initial" state, redefining the meaning of adorning oneself through my own methods and from the perspective of my own nation.

This includes the deconstruction of traditional crafts (raw materials and original structures) and the presentation of my process of dismantling and reassembling them. Using a contemporary gaze to "照" (shine upon/illuminate) ancient artifacts and myths means re-examining and reinterpreting them. It is my gesture as an artist, acting as a beam of light illuminating both tradition and the self. Ultimately, all of this converges on "人" (the human—the individual and the present): it could be Zhang Ruoxu standing by the river a millennium ago, a museum visitor gazing at artifacts, or, more importantly, myself and every physical body that wears my work... This is both the starting point and the endpoint of my exhibition: all culture, craft, and emotion eventually land on "the human." (The core of contemporary jewelry is precisely "the relationship between people and objects.")

Thus, a complete trajectory of thought emerges: first, confronting the perplexity and curiosity of history ("何" - When/What); then, gazing into the deep river of time ("年" - Year); tracing back to the source of everything ("初" - First); taking active projection and intervention ("照" - Shine); and finally, returning to the most visceral, present self ("人" - Human). "何年" (What year) is the temporal dimension, "初照" (first shine) is the action dimension, and "人" (human) is the existential dimension. Questioning tradition, researching crafts, and documenting the present. Thirteen years ago, I defined my research direction as "the integration of traditional culture and crafts with contemporary art." Over the past two years, I have come to see myself as "an art creator whose contemporary practice is nourished by tradition." This represents a shift from simple "fusion" to a deeper relationship of mutual "nourishment" or "feedback." "Tradition" and "contemporary" are certainly not a binary opposition, nor is their relationship a one-way extraction. Building an organic relationship between them requires immense time, practice, and hypotheses that are constantly overturned and rebuilt. In my contemporary art practice, I hope traditional craftsmanship plays a deeper role—an invisible yet omnipresent state, softening its ostentatious traits to accentuate the true, infectious power of its own language.

/ Felicia Li, August 2026



Faced with the vast motifs of Chinese tradition—from romantic myths to tangible folk crafts—we often lose ourselves in the profound weight of history. Yet, this exhibition is not a cultural sermon, but an inward exploration of our heritage. The title, drawn from Zhang Ruoxu’s poetry, invokes tradition as a bright moon that once illuminated ancient artisans and now casts its radiant light upon us today. For over a decade, creators have sought to integrate the traditional with the contemporary. True makers, however, realize tradition is neither a superficial label nor the antithesis of modernity. Instead, it retreats into the depths of creation, quietly nourishing contemporary growth.

On one hand, traditional craftsmanship is stripped of its superficial clamor, softening its symbolic traits to restore the purest resonant power of creation itself. I believe that even traditional objects hold fresh contemporary significance today. We have all likely experienced this: marveling at certain museum artifacts because they appear surprisingly "trendy" or "contemporary." Over hundreds or thousands of years, the feudal rites and class attributes originally attached to these artifacts—such as warding off evil or displaying social status—gradually fade away. Consequently, what remains—the pure beauty of the materials, the exquisite structural logic, and the marks of forging and chasing left by the maker upon the metal—is completely laid bare. Once those weighty social contexts are eclipsed by time, it is the enduring pure materiality and sense of form that deeply move us.

From another perspective, when we marvel at the contemporary feel of ancient artifacts, we are actually marveling at the fact that humanity’s most instinctive, primal creativity in handling materials has remained remarkably consistent across millennia. What we now consider deconstructivism or minimalism may have been practiced by the ancients long ago when crafting a specific mortise-and-tenon joint or metal structure. Therefore, tradition continues to feel contemporary today because both inherently share the exact same origin of the human spirit. In this sense, tradition is not a burden we must forcefully drag into modernity; it is, in itself, a living, breathing "contemporary state" possessing immense vitality. We do not need to resurrect it; we only need to recognize it.

/ YuYun Li


Opening Hours
12:00-21:00 h daily.
Closed every Tuesday.