Yin Zhaoyu was borin in Henan Province in 1977, graduate from Central Academy of Fine Arts.
This reality is not difficult to understand, but it is difficult to interpret. As an easel painting artist, Yin Zhaoyu likes old objects, Francis Bacon-esque brushstrokes, crystal glass balls, rainbow colors on shiny metal surfaces, candlelight, drapery, and patterned and un-patterned sofas, He likes something in everything and his art searches for that which touches him in inexplicable ways: whether it be a metaphysical shape, an harmonious hue of colors, it might even be an accidental mutation of abstract brushstrokes in a concrete image. In the spring at the end of April, at Yin Zhaoyu’s studio, Yet there is no remaining manifestation of desire, there is no sense of tragedy in the wasteland, and there is no joy of lilac, The most ordinary ever-bright oil lamp burning with pure light, accompanies him every day. Yin Zhaoyu owns the whole world within his studio, and reality becomes both brutally complex and yet simple. It must be deconstructed and reconstructed when it is complex, and it can be clear at one glance when it is not.
Form itself is emptiness, and emptiness itself is a form of form. Everything is as it is, not being rejected, nothing is necessary, and even the image of the picture remaining on the retina, gradually disappears bit by bit. Yin Zhaoyu painting’s can be classified as concrete in terms of the technique implemented in their creation, a simple if implied nod to his academic background. His ability to realistically produce objects in a tiny plane has become a cage of his own making in which he seeks to break through. But every can be as though it never existed at all. But Yin Zhaoyu still values these things; these things that are no longer being talked about, and he strives to experience the changing process of the dying in conjunction with the light of rebirth.