Kongkee: Warring States Cyberpunk features the work of award-winning animation director and visual artist Kong Khong-chang, known as Kongkee. The exhibition tells the story of legendary poet Qu Yuan, who lived during the Warring States Period (c. 481-221 BCE), as his soul journeys from the ancient Chu Kingdom to a retro-futuristic Asia where he is reborn as an android in a psychedelic cyberpunk landscape. Originally conceived as a comic series in 2013, the exhibition transports viewers into an imaginary world where past and future collide.

Kongkee: Warring States Cyberpunk is organized by the Asian Art Museum of San Francisco and curated by Abby Chen, Senior Associate Curator of Contemporary Art at the Asian Art Museum of San Francisco.

The following interview was conducted during the premiere of Kongkee: Warring States Cyberpunk at the Asian Art Museum in the fall of 2022. It was translated into English for the exhibition at Wrightwood 659.

Q: What inspired the story of Kongkee: Warring States Cyberpunk?

Kongkee: If this is your first time hearing about the Warring States Period, you can imagine it as a combination of history encompassing the Enlightenment, the Industrial Revolution, the First and Second World Wars, and even the Cold War and the American Civil War into one epic arc. Now, imagine that Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, Galileo, Newton, Einstein, and Richard Feynman were all born during this same era. If I had been born during such a time, I would think I was living at the highest point of civilization in human history! Look, I would be holding an incredible bronze sword, the latest weapon, and society would be experiencing the decentralization of authority from the last imperial dynasty, which feels like more freedom! We would have new coins, too—ones that everyone will use and transcend old boundaries (this might remind you of digital currencies…). So actually, maybe, we’re not that different from our ancestors. That was my starting point: if we can reflect on the past in a museum, can we reflect on the now? That triggered me to write about Qu Yuan but make his story science fiction, connected to the present or an idea of the present. I want to get close to the truth of what it feels like to be caught between two time periods by having a conversation between the past and the future.

Q: In which ways is the Warring States Period similar to contemporary times, in your opinion?

K: During the Warring States Period, new knowledge, like bronze-making techniques, were embraced, new social and political systems were formed, and even Emperor Qin Shi Huang believed that immortality was possible. Thousands of years later, we obviously think he has failed. However, if we look back, is there really any difference between Qin Shi Huang and us? Look at what’s on your Instagram feed and who the influencers are today—they’re all peddling longevity, too.

Q: What about Qu Yuan (and his poetry) made him a great protagonist for the comic series Mi Luo Virtual, and now in the imagined future of Kongkee: Warring States Cyberpunk?

K: Qu Yuan drowned himself because he felt betrayed and was losing his position with his beloved friend and king. He was facing an era of complete change like us today, and his story touched me. I feel nostalgic as my city transforms in this rapidly changing world, and maybe there are others like me.

I am not necessarily saying we are the same as Qu Yuan, but my question is, would he make a different choice if he could get a second chance? His death may have satisfied him, but it didn’t change history—so did it have a point? If given the opportunity, would he find a way to live a different life? Would he rather stay alive, even being ignorant of what happens next? This idea of a second life is communicated by using the bronze artifacts and the way they are presented. I want people to feel these ancient artworks are alive again—like breathing objects, they have been reinvigorated by unexpected lighting. Through the story of Dragon’s Delusion, in my imagination, the museum becomes a kind of a pub for them (my artworks and the artifacts) to hang out to chit chat without being constrained by the limits of time and space.

Q: You said that the psychedelic and wandering quality of Qu Yuan’s words in his poem “Li Sao” resonated with your art. How do you negotiate between your personal connection with the poem and the long history and many interpretations that the poem has had? How do you breathe new life into the poem?

K: I am a visual person. Many recent scientific discoveries have found that artifacts, such as the terracotta army figures in Emperor Qin Shi Huang’s tomb, were, in fact, vibrant and colorful. In Qu Yuan’s poem, he uses descriptions, including descriptions of flowers, for example, to express the visual quality of his imagination. In my experience, we feel distant from artifacts when learning about them in museums and textbooks. Our perception of history has been shaped for centuries by the generations before us, and these objects are, of course, distinctly precious and experienced differently than everyday objects.

However, in the Warring States Period, perhaps, Qu Yuan’s work was used as a song performed as a religious ceremony to connect with ancestors and gods. I believe listeners must have experienced some sort of spiritual journey while listening to the song. This interpretation may not be the conclusion in the mainstream study, but I found it inspiring to my story.

Q: You merge the ancient story of Qu Yuan with a futuristic, sci-fi world and depict Qu Yuan as a cyborg. In making this choice, how do you respond to the racist stereotype of Asian subjects as emotionless, disaffected, or machine-like?

K: In the story, Qu Yuan’s consciousness is cloned into an android, someone who is born human and then implanted with a machine—which is not exactly the same as a cyborg—but the question still stands. However, being an android or a cyborg doesn’t mean that a character is emotionless, but rather the opposite. Machines are trained to be obedient, but in fact, following traditional wisdom (be it Taoism, Buddhism, or another), they actually have a human spirit. In my belief, the universe itself is self-conscious, so how can we, as humans, separate ourselves from everything else?

In Dragon’s Delusion, the character Katherine believes Joe (the android clone of Qu Yuan) has his own soul, like all other humans, while Joe’s partner Dice believes that machines are only tools. When you are treated like a tool, you don’t need to have emotion, but if you are treated like a human, there is no doubt that you have emotion. Whether or not the android is believed to have emotion is the choice of the observer.

Q: Your story takes a tragic tale of suicide and gives it a new ending. You also said you wanted Qu Yuan, in this exhibition, “to reflect the disorientation as well as the hope of our era.” How does this story reflect the hope of today?

K: Actually, the story continues… I don’t have a concrete conclusion yet; what I want to share is the idea: “keep searching.” Just like in the animation, the android Joe questions his existence, like Qu Yuan questioned the boundary between reality and illusion. This leaves us with a wonderful journey of exploration. In this exhibition, I use the river as the central concept going through the space, suggesting the flow of time and the idea that you can only live in the moment. We’re just like a passenger on the river: You don’t know where it will take you—just keep thinking, searching, and hoping you will make it out alive.

Q: You use cutting-edge technologies in your art, and the Warring States Period is known for its own advanced technologies, yet the exhibition has been described as cautioning against “cutting-edge technologies yet to be discovered.” At what point does new technology become problematic?

K: Your question reminds me of a quote from Lao Tzu, “five colors make people blind, five tones make people deaf,” which led me to realize that our senses are always blinded and blocked by new sensations or too many sensations—many of which are now stimulated by technology all around us. The psychedelic colors and virtual reality tools I used in my work are trying to show the truth of his philosophy, that we have to realize that color is not “real” by pushing it to an extreme with neons and saturated acid tones. What we experience is an illusion. If there are real problems arising from technology, I guess it’s that we’re losing our senses by handing so much to machines. You see it in Taotie, the giant neon sculpture. It is based on motifs from an ancient bronze that had symbols with warnings, maybe about vanity and asking for too much attention. I replaced some of those symbols with the logos of major tech and social media companies to echo those warnings. Sometimes, the more things change, the more they stay the same, so listening to the wisdom of the ancients still applies today.

Q: This exhibit sounds like a cyberpunk comic come to life. How did you create and put together the physical elements of the exhibition? What were some of the challenges in getting it together?

K: One of the significant challenges was integrating the art with the exhibition artifice. My work is full of psychedelic elements and vibrant colors, while institutions typically use some neutral narrative or backdrop to present the artworks. This exhibition is kind of a breakthrough in that respect, creating an unexpected environment for the viewer. I want people to feel that the works are breathing and have their own lives outside of the controlled atmosphere of the museum. At the same time, the historical objects and my artwork should be together, hand-in-hand, like they are talking to each other. At the Asian Art Museum, we began the story with the historical connections between my work and the Warring States Period. The exhibition cumulates with the screening of three animated films from Dragon’s Delusion. It is almost a carnival by that point, gathering all the pieces together in a moment of sustained joy, pain, and wonder—we leave it up to the visitor to take away what they need.

Q: In your exhibition at the Asian Art Museum, why was it interesting to you to play off of the museum’s ancient artifacts in your exhibition?

K: The Asian Art Museum has one of the best collections of ancient Chinese bronzes outside Asia [museum director Jay Xu is a world-renowned authority on archaeometallurgy]. We explored different ways of integrating these rare artifacts into a contemporary setting. It almost has a Kubrick feel, like at the end of 2001: A Space Odyssey, when you confront history and your place in it, but outside of time. That’s a little like the android Joe with the soul of the poet Qu Yuan trying to find his place in the future. It’s uncanny because it’s two epochs colliding, but that collision has beauty and a sense of playfulness. That’s the essence of cyberpunk, too—that’s why it could only have started with comic books, which have so much freedom in them.

I am fascinated by the history of the Warring States and believe there is still a mystery to that era. Looking at those artifacts opens a gate for me to understand a little more. When researching Dragon’s Delusion, I referenced these works from the museum, and it was like a dream come true to have this opportunity to showcase all these ideas side by side. I’m also moved by the idea from museum director Jay Xu, who says, “all art has been contemporary art.” This view helps us break the boundaries between artifacts from the Warring States Period and my work from today. Whether comics or videos, historic art has also been pop culture, it had that energy, presence, and meaning to everyone, and we’re trying to suggest or restore that here.

Q: Hong Kong has been in the news a lot lately because of suppressed protests and disappearing freedoms. What would you like people in the U.S. to know about Hong Kong, its residents, and what’s happening there politically?

K: After more than 150 years, from the Second World War to post-2019 and the pandemic, Hong Kong has remained a tiny harbor city—but at the same time, it reflects the struggles of different forces from around the world, whether economic, political, or ideological. By observing Hong Kong and trying to understand the people there and the forces shaping the city, you know (or at least get a picture of) the frontlines of a game among the world’s most significant players. I want to introduce to the audience that there are many valuable creative powers under this specific historical background, how “Chinese culture” as we see it now emerges into and from this contemporary context, and how we continue to deal day-by-day with ancient wisdom, customs, and truths—like those of Lao Tzu. I genuinely recommend that those interested in exploring the works of Hong Kong artists, moviemakers, and writers try to see what this moment is.

Art is always a reflection of our times—I think the escapist and hopeful alternatives in my work are needed by everyone right now. Ultimately, it’s about the search for a soul, and what is a soul if not meaning, your reason for being in the universe?

Q: When you were interviewed about your collaboration with Blur, you mentioned that Hong Kong had changed so much for you. In which ways has it changed for the better, and in which ways for the worse?

K: It’s like the river Heraclitus describes– you can never set foot in it twice, or the saying that “you can never go home again.” It’s always hard to see the places, people, and things that inspired key moments in your life disappear or change. At the same time, that makes a city a city or an artist an artist: being dynamic, not static.

Q: What do you hope visitors leave this exhibition thinking and feeling?

K: I hope visitors can feel a sense of peace after being bombarded by the colors and sound elements, almost like having a vigorous massage and releasing the tension after the treatment—in my case, that treatment is performed visually and sonically through encounters with art. I also want visitors to ask themselves the question that the characters in Dragon’s Delusion ask: “What is the difference between ourselves and other beings? How do we know if there is a soul inside us? If there were a second chance, would I take it?” I don’t want people to leave with one answer, to shut down their appreciation and shackle themselves to an answer other than their own—that kind of enforced thinking is why Qu Yuan jumped in the river to begin with!

The original interview in Chinese can be found here: https://mp.weixin.qq.com/s/fhHjhv5Cs8o3_XnaUrrCMQ