In Latin etymology, “Solaris” belongs to the sun—that ancient, blazing, undying core. It hangs above our skies and deep within our consciousness, a source of energy and life, a metaphor for memory and destruction. Since antiquity, humanity has gazed upon it, both fearing its ferocity and craving its warmth; it nurtures all things into growth, and it reduces all things to ash.

The dappled radiance in Wang Haoxu’s works echoes both the primordial energy and serves as a metaphor for the cycle of destruction and rebirth. Those crystalline resins, solidified over millions of years, resemble capsules of time forsaken by the sun upon the earth. Air, water droplets, insects, dust—countless fortuitous existences are forcibly sutured in a single viscous embrace, henceforth frozen. Amber preserves the last moment before annihilation, transforming that instant into eternal light. It stands as a witness to life’s passing, and testimony to matter gaining rebirth as it travels through time.

The materials in Xu Dengqian’s works undergo transformation through another kind of force. Hammered, bent, pierced—hard materials gradually soften under persistent external intervention, releasing warmth. Sharp feathers grow forth from metal, pointing towards fragility and suspension. And those branches wrapped in aluminum—where the form of life meets metallic coldness—represent both a form of protection and an alienation. Here, metal is no longer frigid substance, but infused by the artist with breath and warmth, becoming a vessel for memory and trauma. Bows and arrows encircle like a solar disc, simultaneously a protective boundary and a confining cage, hinting at a mysterious order at the extreme point of tension. Multiple bows support each other, achieving stillness amidst strain, like the celestial bodies of a solar system, drawn by invisible gravity yet forever moving in their own orbits.

The sun’s light penetrates the amber, turning an instant into eternity; it sweeps across metallic surfaces, casting shadows between blades and wings. All that is sealed, forged, stretched, and suspended speaks of the eternal cycle between memory and rebirth. The sun rises in the east and sets in the west, in endless recurrence. When the light descends, that ray which pierces the amber and wanders across the metal’s surface may well be the silent language of the object itself.