Yang Chihung, an artist from Taiwan, likes symphonies and he listens to them when he paints. His favorite musicians include Bach, Beethoven, Mahler and Shostakovich. He weaves the rhythmic and metric features of music into abstract paintings with acrylics on canvas. "I don't visualize music notes. What I want is to present the same energy, depth and blending of layers as that of music," he says at his solo exhibition at Asia Art Center's space in Beijing. "The audience will have different feelings every time when they look at my paintings and discover details they missed previously. It is like how one feels about the melody he keeps listening to." The 70-year-old, who divides his time between Taipei and New York, has exhibited widely in Taiwan and US cities in a career spanning nearly five decades. Yang creates works using photography, lithography, sketching, ink-brush painting and ceramics. The Beijing exhibition, The Sensibilities of Black and White, focuses on his acrylic paintings. The works on show are mostly a simple combination of black and white where he blends his understanding of music with the sense of motion he finds in Chinese calligraphy. His works reflect the influence of caoshu (cursive script), which is usually written in a quick, rough way, but with a highly expressive, individualistic manner. Yang's paintings can be mistaken for ink-brush works if viewed from far away. "Tradition is precious. The present cannot be wonderful without tradition," says Yang. "Caoshu is a form of plastic art through which the calligrapher explores the relationship between the strokes and between the ink and the white paper." Yin Shuangxi, an art critic and professor of art history and theory at the Central Academy of Fine Arts in Beijing, says: "His art embodies a dialogue between the East and West. "In his paintings, people can feel the flow of air, the integration of heaven and Earth, and an atmosphere. "The audience do not have to find something specific in his works. He is a person who makes people embrace the world and feel nature." Yang says his works are also filled with a tension between day and night. He says he usually paints when the day draws to a close and dawn arrives, and he shows the quick passing of time. "Time is moving, but art can freeze it. Art is the only way that can take us back to the old days," he says. "I don't like the word 'inspiration'. Every work arises from a particular state of mind." As digital technology has been adopted by a growing number of artists, with some even training computer-controlled mechanical arms to paint, there are artists like Yang who believe that drawing is a uniquely human pursuit. "I don't think artificial intelligence can replace humans in the creation of art," says Yang. "People paint to express their emotions that are so rich, complicated and sensitive that they are difficult for AI to replicate." If you go 10 am-6:30 pm, closed on Mondays, through March 4. Asia Art Center, 798 art zone, 2 Jiuxianqiao Lu, Chaoyang district, Beijing. 010-5978-9709.

The centerpiece of experimental calligrapher Wei Ligang's ongoing Beijing exhibition is a 45-meter-long scroll titled Phoenixes and Dragons that the Beijing-based artist completed in 2012. In the work, Wei repeats classical poetry and original verses. He cycles through various writing styles, including the cursive script (caoshu) and clerical script (lishu). The brushstrokes transform in a symphonic way "abruptly from calmness to a manic touch", says Wei. The piece is installed on the wall and in a spiral on the second floor of Ink Studio Beijing, where Wei's exhibition Songs of Phoenix Mirror is running. The characters are like mythical birds in ancient Chinese tales, taking viewers on a journey through time to the origin of Chinese aesthetics. The 53-year-old grew up in Datong, a city in North China's Shanxi province that boasts rich historical and cultural heritage. Once a capital of the Northern Wei Dynasty (386-534), Datong is celebrated for its ancient Buddhist sites, including the Yungang grotto shrines and the Huayan Temple, and many precious steles bearing calligraphic inscriptions from centuries ago. The environment implanted in him a deep admiration for the grandeur and power of classical art. Wei, who began practicing calligraphy as a child, is inspired by such masters as Fu Shan (1607-84), a famed calligrapher, thinker and doctor from Taiyuan, Shanxi's provincial capital. Wei's calligraphic pieces show the influence of Fu's writing philosophy－seeking a state that is a bit out of control. Wei, who majored in mathematics at Nankai University in Tianjin, has been passionate about calligraphy since college. He immersed himself in the research of Fu and Chinese epigraphy. Wei, who moved to Beijing in 1995 to become a professional artist, has since sought to engage in contemporary art to renew Chinese calligraphy. His works explored Fu's ideas in a modern context. "Fu personifies the characters of calligraphy. He is opposed to a showcase of skillful cleverness and sophistication, as well as compositions that cater to mainstream tastes," he says. "If one seeks security and remains in his comfort zone, he cannot create a good piece of work. "A master loves the uncontrolled feeling. Even when he makes mistakes by going too far, he knows how to fix the imperfections with a perfect finish." The works on show feature Wei's signature "magic square" characters. He exaggerates the structures of the characters, making them look like ballooned squares pressed against each other. His characters are inspired by inscriptions on oracle bones and Northern Dynasty (386-581) steles. Between the characters he adds images of flowers, birds, towers and gates. By doing so, he distracts viewers from the characters so they can see the beautiful variations of their lines. Wei－who writes on a golden acrylic background or uses golden acrylic pigments on black paper－makes the characters pop up. The visual effect reminds viewers of the artistic splendor of the Han (206 BC-AD 220) and Tang (618-907) dynasties. "When I write, I can see the characters rise and fly in the sky like free birds." If you go 10 am-6 pm, closed on Mondays, through Feb 12. Red No 1-B1, Caochangdi, Chaoyang district, Beijing. 010-5127-3143.

Cursive script (草書) of Chinese calligraphy is known under various names; cursive hand, running script, running hand, or draft script. Some sources refer to it incorrectly as walking script, which name should be rather reserved for the semi-cursive script (行書). Another incorrect expression is grass script, or grass writing, and I will explain why below in details. Cursive script is the third script out of five core scripts of Chinese calligraphy that has appeared chronologically. Its origin is somewhat difficult to place on the time line of long and eventful history of Chinese writing. Theoretically, cursive hand evolved from the clerical script, and not from the small seal script, as commonly believed. Cursive script, in Chinese language, is written as 草書 (cao shu), where 草 has many meanings. One of them is “grass”. Now, as I mentioned above, grass script is the incorrect naming of the running hand. This translation is based on two facts. First is that one of the meanings of 草 is “grass”, and second is that calligraphy in cursive script may have the appearance of grass bending gracefully on the wind. One of the other and more important meanings of 草 is “draft” (as in “a draft note”). To explain why this is the correct translation of 草 in the word 草書, we need to look back some 2000 years. Similarly to clerical script, the evolution of cursive script can be divided into two major phases. It its first stage, cursive script that was developed from the clerical script is known as 章草 (zhang cao), which could be translated as a “draft of an order” (i.e. administrative note). This naming was not accidental and it follows the name of the Emperor Zhang of Han (漢章帝, 57 – 88 C.E.), who was an illustrious and innovative leader. He introduced numerous governmental reforms, which required maintaining a close contact with the governmental officials throughout his domain. If any of you tried to write in seal script or clerical script, you will well know that it is time-consuming, and not very well suited for fast information exchange. This is how cursive clerical script (章草) was born. There are ten general rules of writing in cursive script, and all of them have a common aim – to simplify the character and allow for much faster and less formal writing (in deapth articles and Chinese calligraphy tutorials on the 10 rules of writing in cursive script). Emperor Zhang Han was the first ruler that allowed his appointed officers to communicate with his by means of the draft script. Zhang cao script was named after him. The early cursive hand was heavily based on the clerical script. If you compare classical Chinese literature written in this script with some other masterpieces written in cursive script, you will clearly see huge differences between those two scripts. Cursive script matured during the Han dynasty, and at the end of 2nd century C.E. it was already very well-developed. One of the most renowned Masters of this script was Zhang Zhi (張芝, birth date unknown, died in 190 C.E.). He was the one who initiated 今草, i.e. modern cursive script, modifying it by two other evolving scripts, the standard script and semi-cursive script. Zhang Zhi was one of the most outstanding cursive script Masters of all time, being treated with great respect by calligraphy geniuses such as Wang Xizhi (王羲之, 303–361) of the Jin dynasty (晉朝, 265 – 420 C.E.), who said himself that Zhang’s calligraphy in cursive hand is unmatched. Zhang Zhi is known today as cao sheng (草聖), which in Chinese means the “sage of cursive script”.