SHANGHAI, March 14 -- Two artists trained in classical and fine arts are breaking all the rules on rice paper. Lu Fusheng, a successful art publisher, paints highly exaggerated oracles and saints. Wu Yiming paints classical or modern figures with empty faces, writes Wang Jie.

Lu Fusheng says he has a dual personality - this makes it difficult to relate his contemporary ink-wash paintings to the man in real life.

Lu's artwork is filled with humor and liveliness, while he himself is serious, precise and a man of few words. Perhaps that second side is why he is president of the Shanghai Calligraphy and Painting Publishing House, a successful businessman.

"You can call me a person of dual personality," says 56-year-old Lu. "Maybe I have undergone so much oppression and pressure in life that my paintings are a relief for my feelings."

Lu's paintings on rice paper break all the rules of the ancient genre. His work currently is on display at the Shanghai Art Museum.

His subjects are Chinese oracles and saints, their faces and figures greatly exaggerated. One saint's face may dominate the entire tableau like a mountain.

"I abandoned many elements that many of my peers are pursuing, such as technique and skill," Lu explains. "I try to use a more wisdom-based approach and a simple method."

Lu says that comes from his busy schedule. He claims he reserves only weekends for art because of his heavy workload at the publishing house.

"I never ever expected to be a management leader before, believe it or not," he points out. "I was completely trained in the way of an ancient Chinese intellectual since I was a little boy."

Lu was born in Dongyang County, Zhejiang Province. Though the little boy didn't understand them, Lu's father educated him with the "Four Books and Five Classics." These excerpts of the writings of Confucius were invoked as authorities on Chinese society, government, literature and religion for more than 2,000 years.

"My father told me that I would have a thorough understanding of these words and sentences when I grew up, which would benefit my whole life," he recalls. "You could imagine that I was raised up in a Confucian environment. So I am not an aggressive person, always struggling to achieve a goal. I just try to act to suit the time."

Lu compares his characteristics to that of water - he adapts to limitations, but he still flows continuously.

"I have my own principles and I am persistent. Perhaps that's why I am able to operate a publishing house."

Although Lu's paintings are selected for many joint shows and biennales, he prefers to keep a low profile. His "happiest hour" is spent in his 40-square-meter studio at his home.

"Sometimes I enjoy 'talking' with my brush rather than to the people around," he concludes.

Lu Fusheng

Born in 1949 in Dongyang County, Zhejiang Province

A graduate of Zhejiang Academy of Fine Arts in 1982

Solo exhibition in Hong Kong in 1990 and 1995

Solo exhibition at Shanghai Art Museum in 2007

Painter sees lost spirit in empty faces

All the subjects of artist

Wu Yiming lack

facial features. The faces on rice paper are blank: no eyes, noses, mouths, no anger, no leers or smiles and no grief. Some of them are clad in ancient costumes, some wear modern clothes.

"I am keen on portraying the 'lost of spirit' among modern people," says Wu, a slender man in his 40s. "I am neither a thinker nor a sociologist, I just try to reflect the spiritual status of those around me."

Wu graduated from the department of traditional oil painting at East China Normal University in 1992. He could have returned to the pure tradition of ink-wash painting, like his peers.

But he gave it up.

"Both the form and the content of those traditional paintings are like dreams of the past, they have nothing to do with the present life and the society," explains Wu. "I don't want to live in the past, especially the ancient past. I am standing on a land of reality."

So Wu tries to infuse those empty-faced characters with a certain meaning, place them in a certain setting and context. At first he dresses them in ancient costumes. They have the "distressed" texture of stained old scrolls. The antique world is vividly present, yet utterly mysterious, beautiful hues of orange and watery purple.

The blankness of the faces, however, may represent the artist's own blindness as he looks back at old China and tries to see what its enormous history could possibly mean.

"At first, my paintings were severely attacked because they were too odd in the eyes of some," he recalls. "It was so difficult for me to participate in any exhibition or competition, as no one was certain how to categorize my work, classical or contemporary?"

But the situation has changed.

Wu's paintings have been collected by the Shanghai Art Museum, an important sign that his work has been recognized by the mainstream. His studio now covers 200 square meters in two adjacent warehouses.

"Many have asked why I draw an empty face," he says. "I thought that the body movements and postures are already enough to reflect a character, and facial expressions could only weaken the whole visual effect."