Lin Mingjun was born in Fujian Province, China in 1995 and Graduated from the Central University for Nationalities with a major in Fine Arts in 2019. Completed a Master’s degree in Japanese Painting at Tama Art University in 2023, and is currently enrolled in the Doctoral Program in Japanese Painting at Tokyo University of the Arts.

While employing the traditional technique of ink wash painting, Lin Mingjun has created mysterious spaces within her compositions, incorporating a unique contemporary worldview that transcends the boundaries of ink wash expression.
This exhibition marks a new endeavour, exploring tulips as subjects to attempt a different form of expression from his previous work.

The exhibition title, “Kong Kong” (空空), is a term the artist himself describes as embodying ‘a gaze towards existence detached from value judgements of usefulness or uselessness’. It represents an attempt to re-examine the nature of objects and people through the sensation of “emptiness” (空), which seems to envelop and dissolve all things.

【Artist Statement】

Initially, I intended this exhibition's theme to be “Garden of Connections”.
That “garden” stems from childhood memories spent in the countryside. Back then, almost all vacant land was turned into fields; flowers were planted only at the edges—as boundaries or decoration, just a little. From a utilitarian perspective, flowers seemed to hold little value. They weren't edible, nor could they be harvested.
Perhaps it was around that time I developed a certain habit of judgement. Distinguishing what was useful and what was superfluous. Even now, when faced with cut flowers at a florist, I always hesitate. I inevitably start calculating: how many days will they bloom? Is it worth buying them?
This way of thinking extended beyond flowers to everything. I find myself applying that same measuring eye to my own work, and indeed to myself. At some point, I think I began viewing even myself as something to be counted, listed, organised. Then one day, I suddenly realised only my outline remained, its contents having gradually begun to waver without my noticing.
Suddenly, I realised I had become nothing but an outline, while something inside had quietly begun to crumble. The term “Kong kong” was born from that feeling. It doesn't mean “nothingness”. It refers to the space left behind after collapse, something that still faintly breathes, detached from function or logic. I painted such flowers. Flowers pushed to the margins, unanticipated, destined to wither quickly.
The wooden panels used in this exhibition are all offcuts from my usual panel-making. Their shapes are irregular, falling short of any standard. They were originally “parts destined to be discarded”.
Yet, I gradually began to realise. The very shapes of those edges and margins already speak of something. They exist for no one in particular, nor do they wait to be used.