Zima Blue 齐马蓝 6

That was how things stood when I first paid attention to Zima. I filed him away as interesting but kitschy: maybe worth a story if something else happened to either him or his art.

Something did, but it took a while for anyone—including me—to notice.

One day—after a longer than usual gestation period—Zima unveiled a mural that had something different.

about it. It was a picture of a swirling, star-pocked nebula, from the vantage point of an airless rock. Perched on the rim of a crater in the middle distance, blocking off part of the nebula, was a tiny blue square. At first glance it looked as if the canvas had been washed blue and Zima had simply left a small area unpainted. There was no solidity to the square; no detail or suggestion of how it related to the landscape or the backdrop. It cast no shadow and had no tonal influence on the surrounding colours. But the square was deliberate: close examination showed that it had indeed been overpainted over the rocky lip of the crater. It meant something. 

The square was just the beginning. Thereafter, every mural that Zima released to the outside world contained a simlar geometric shape: a square, triangle, oblong or some similar forms  embedded somewhere in the composition. It was a long time before anyone noticed that the shade of blue was the same from picture to picture. 

It was Zima Blue: the same shade of blue as on the gold-lettered card. 

Over the next decade or so, the abstract shapes became more dominant, squeezing out the other elements of each composition. The cosmic vistas ended up as narrow borders, framing blank circles, triangles, rectangles. Where his earlier work had been characterised by exuberant brushwork and thick layers of paint, the blue forms were rendered with mirror-smoothness. 

Intimidated by the intrusion of the abstract blue form， casual buyers turned away from Zima. Before very long Zima unveiled the first of his entirely blue murals. Large enough to cover the side of a thousand-storey building, the mural was considered by many to be as far as Zima could take things. 

当我第一次注意到齐玛，我就有了这样的疑问。我觉得他是矫揉造作，对他并不感兴趣:如果他或者他的画作发生了其他事情，我倒觉得值得写篇报道。  

这样的事情居然发生了，但是其他人——包括我在内——却是过了一段时间才注意到这件事。  

有一次，齐玛花了比平时更长的时间创作了一幅画。当他展示这幅画作的时候，人们发现这幅画作出现了不同寻常的东西。这是一幅漩涡星云的作品，以一颗无空气的小行星作为观察点。在这颗小行星上某座火山口的边缘，有一个小小的蓝色正方形遮盖住了星云的一部分。乍一看，就像是齐玛先把整个画布用蓝色刷了一遍，然后在上面画星云的时候，故意留下这么一块正方形没有画。这个正方形是空心的，没有任何细节表明它和整个景观或者背景有什么联系。它没有投射阴影，而且跟周围的颜色之间没有任何渐变。但是这个正方形肯定是经过深思熟虑才画上去的:因为通过近距离检查可以发现它确实是用颜料在火山口的上方画出来的。这肯定带有某种深意。  

而这个正方形只是个开始。在这之后，齐玛向外界展示的所有画作上，都带有一个类似的几何图形。每幅画作的构图中都嵌入了一个正方形、三角形、椭圆形或者其他的图形。过了很长一段时间，人们才发现每幅画上的几何图形所涂的蓝色都是完全一样的。  

这就是齐玛蓝，就和我收到的那张镶有金字的卡片所带的蓝色完全一样。  

又过了几十年，这种抽象的图形逐渐变成了他的主流作品，把构图的其他元素全部挤了出去。宇宙远景的尽头变成了一个狭窄的边框，再用几个空白的圆圈、三角形、长方形与之配合起来。他的早期作品都是以丰富的笔触、浓墨重彩的多层铺垫作为典型的特征，如今却变成用光滑的镜面打底的蓝色图形。  

很多买家被齐玛这种抽象的蓝色图形吓到了，逐渐远离了他。很快齐玛又推出了他的第一幅完全由单一蓝色构成的画作。这幅画作非常巨大，大得足够覆盖一座千层大楼的侧面。人们普遍认为齐玛已经江郎才尽，再也画不出精美的作品了。