Curated by Julia Zheng, Creative Consultant and Xiong’s exhibition partner, previously a Creative Producer in theatre, a theatrical piece was performed alongside the paintings, an accompaniment to the opening night. Beginning in one of the vaults, the performer thrusted and rose within the trappings of vibrant silk cloths, accompanied by the poignant chanting in traditional Mongolian music. The sounds were deep, sombre and methodical, mirroring the artist’s slow and direct pace as she walked into another, wider vault. Across the back wall of this room were multiple objects buried in sand. As we followed the performer through the room, she dug her hands into the sand, and pulled out objects associated with modern technology and globalisation. After moving through the room she returned to the silks, wrapping them around her, and reaching towards one of Xiong’s paintings. As the music culminated in mournful, rising intonations, the performer reached a hand towards a singular painting, placing it on top of the felt to leave behind a handprint. It was a move that encapsulated the despairing, longing tones of the music and the piece as a whole. There was a sense of reaching towards something with intense hopelessness; whether it was the people gazing out from the frames or the swirling landscapes, the performance was a potent investigation of unfulfilled identity and desire.

Speaking to Xiong after, the artist expressed the constant state of flux he feels his identity is in. Born in inner Mongolia, a region controlled by the Chinese government, Xiong said that, ‘Mongolia is my country, but my father is Chinese Han, so I’ve always been searching for my identity. Am I a Chinese man or a Mongolian man?’ After finishing an MA at the Royal College of Arts in 2018, Xiong returned briefly to Mongolia, and now lives in New York; his nomadic and shifting selfhood was somewhat reflected in the traditional Mongolian dress paired with Comme des Garcon converse. Small and bright-eyed, with an excited demeanour, I was charmed by his warmth and readiness to discuss his work.

This sense of disorientation is something I felt was potent in Xiong’s paintings. In the Green Card series, the figures appear to be thrown around in the tormented swirls of fiery orange. There is something eerie and disturbing in the landscapes that echoes the experience of being unsettled. In one painting, figures appear to run in terror from the gaping chasm of black, menacing drips of dark green pigment cascade, claw-like across their path, like prison bars or knotted vines. The scenes are mythical, fantastical and otherworldly, but they reflect the existing and real experiences of entrapment and exclusion felt by many immigrants worldwide.