Enthused over Rilke’s ‘Letters to a young poet’, which Meng Huang and I have often discussed, I would love to imitate them and use the epistolary form to speak to and about Meng Huang. I hope that the poet’s teaching will help me express something less superficial than what its often written – what I, myself, have written – on contemporary art.

It is a personal need that drives me to put down in black and white what Meng Huang – his persona, his painting, his life, and our meetings – means to me. Now the opportunity has come and who knows whether I am truly ready to do it justice. At first I thought I would simply carry out the work for four hands, the artist and my own: we would discuss our vision of art and life, we would cite our favorite authors, we would, in short, try not to talk about ‘something’ but to conjure up, how-ever hopelessly, the unspeakable. But time has gone by and our laziness, our lightness as travelers and as companionable talkers, rather than as scholars, has left only the memory of journeys together.

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