Zexuan Zeng

Image from “The internal crusade” project by Zexuan Zeng

Biography

Zexuan Zeng (*1997) was born in eastern South China and studied Graphic Design as a Bachelor at SHNU from 2015. One year later, he began working as a freelance artist and designer, untill 2021 he began his studies at KHM. Since arriving in Germany, Zexuan has been engaged in photography, writing, video art and grafic art. His interest lies in the control of emotional flow in photography concerning the relation between documentary and fiction, and the self-reference of memory. His work appears in exhibitions in various countries, including China, Germany and Japan.

The project

In 1934, the Communist Party faced a life-and-death situation under several siege operations by the Kuomintang and decided to abscond from the former CSR (Chinese Soviet Republic, 1931–1937). They broke out from southern Jiangxi to the west, traveled to Yunnan, and turned north, eventually arriving in Shanxi. This migration lasted for a year and spanned almost all of China. At the time of departure, nearly 86,000 people were part of the Red Army—only around 8,000 survived. The leaders of the time would go on to form the first government cabinet of the new People’s Republic of China. This episode is known as the “Long March.”

I was born and raised in Ganzhou, Jiangxi—the heart of the former CSR—where the Long March begins. “The Communist Party came out of here” is how it is often phrased. Patriotic education filled all my schoolbooks, and party emblems with red stars and signs about the Long March were visible on nearly every street corner. As I grew up, the return of Hong Kong, the One-Child Policy, the earthquake, the Olympics, and the recent Covid epidemic were all narrated through the metaphor of the Long March. It became a keyword infused with a singular meaning: “All suffering is a journey, and all journeys must lead to success.” I began to realize that it had evolved into a cultural mechanism to transform personal suffering into a necessary sacrifice demanded by the collective.

Image from “The internal crusade” project by Zexuan Zeng

In the summer of 2024, I undertook a two-month journey along the route, documenting symbolic representations of the Long March and the people who live along it. We live inside an illusion constructed by false tales; our intentions are turned into duties, and our experiences are framed as struggles. Is there, within the narrative of the Long March, a lament for an unfinished revolution? The image of the god we worship has become so blurred that it is now eroded by vulgarity. We seem to love suffering. It is true that, on the surface, we resist it—but when it disappears, an uncontrollable emptiness follows.