YIBEIJIA LI 

                                                              


                                                                                                                         

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A Thousand Mountains  On the shaded cliffs,
where the moss is thick and green,
I rest my head on fragrant grass,
and forget the world for a while.
I live in the city,
but I feel as though I dwell among
a thousand mountains.


From the riverbanks to the ruins,
from pebbles in my pocket
to memories in my bloodstream
it’s all been gathered,
carried,
and rearranged.
Reality twists like tidal mud
the marshlands bloom in spring
but rot by summer.
The fields used to dance in yellow,
now they whisper in green.
 The river remembers,  the city forgets.
Old stone walls, broken tiles,
caves revealed by the water’s pull.
History doesn’t shout here
it stains.
Some days I make things that look like the past.
Other days I melt three timelines into one and call it
“a love story.”

I grew up in a place where the future
came in bulldozers and glitter,
where everything bright
was also already breaking.
They called it progress.
I called it vandalism with fireworks.
So now I collect what’s left:
textures, colours, fragments of silence.
I tell stories with what remains,
if it’s just a muddy print on a river stone
or a rapeseed petal stuck to my boot.


 I imagine a world that feels unfamiliar
even when I know it by heart.


A world full of romance and failure,
humour and chaos,
construction and collapse.


In it,
I am the outsider.
The one who watches.
The one who remembers.
This is my Arcadia, my thousands mountains.


I live in the city, but I feel as though I dwell among thousands of mountains.
 I grew up next to the Dadu River, which runs from Danba, Tibet and ends in Leshan, where it meets the Min River, a tributary of the mighty Yangtze. Its tides, rich with minerals, paint the mountains red, while its moisture summons rain, nurturing the trees and cloaking the rocks in moss. This river shaped the city, for centuries, craftsmen have hewn its red rocks into gates, towers, and bridges. It has been the neverland for poets and the canvas for monks, who carved their prayers into the crimson cliffs, hoping to hold back the floods. 





 Drawing inspiration from the mountains and the rivers I grew up in Southwest of China, from the fields and riverbanks to the found objects and collection of pebbles, it spans from space and time, reinterpreting memories into existing and ever-changing landscapes. Above it all, I imagine a world that seeks familiarity in the unfamiliar where reality and myth are both recognised and reimagined. In this envisioned world, objects are not as merely created but as discovered elements of an imagined realm, each narrating a fragment of a larger story and associating with existing places. 

From the quality, texture and colour palette found in my work, each colour links back to the marshlands, and rocky foreshore. 
The landscape is constantly changing; what is concealed by the flow of water and shifting mud, old city walls, stone slabs and caves formed by water erosion the flow are revealed. the riverbank is the memory, it holds layers of history and climates. Some of my pieces take one river element as inspiration, while others merge two or more to create composite descriptions of the river’s mamade structures and the nature.

The riverbank illustrated the change of seasons and nature’s persistence in a man-made world. It was the foundation upon which I portrayed and explored my

Arcadia, my thousands of mountains.





 Storytelling through the lookingglass of a Chinese Garden



15.04.2025
Crank + Terracotta
stoneware glazes, underglazes
Fired to 1260 c  
21 x 25 x 23cm











In this piece I deliberately fired the underglaze without transparent glaze on top to maintain its mat and rough texture, which resonate with the brush stroke on the long scroll painting.




The process of life is so accelerated that death would disappear


Mixed Claybody 
stoneware glazes, colour slips,
red iron oxides, 
glass
Fired to 1240 c  
31 x 20 x 22cm

This is a story about a river and revelation. When driftwood is buried in the riverbeds without lights and attention, under high pressure and processing by vivid bacteria, and some mysterious creature, turning one dead thing into something flourishing and energetic again, the process has been imagined to be powerful and dynamic. As if the process of life is so accelerated and the death could almost be ignored.


SWIM AMONG THE REEDS

Craft Crank Stoneware

stoneware glazes, colour slips,red iron oxides, glass

Fired to 1240 c  
29 x 28 x 29cm

When summer arrives, the riverbank is populated by swimmers, the bustling hotspot is where the three rivers join together, and it’s known for its busy undercurrent. On the riverbed where the water gets quieter, there’s a whole other world to explore. 

Tadpoles swimming among the reeds, and cicadas are singing their hearts out as they finally see the sky, breathing the air above the soil and sucking the juice of trees, the chirping is so loud as it is a celebration of a long-anticipated euphoria. With my little bucket and fishing net, hop between the rocks, mud and moss with barefoot and filled with excitement. Yet, there’s a hint of agitation, wary of stepping on toads, encountering other mysterious creatures lurking in the shadows or get carried away by the currents. 
05.03.2025
Mixed black stoneware
glazes, colour slips,copper oxides

Fired to 1240 c  
23 x 14 x 10cm

 IT CAME WITH THE FLOOD

Draycott + Lava fleck Stoneware
stoneware glazes, copper oxides

Fired to 1234 0c  
31 x 22 x 24cm
 At times, flooding occurs in the summer, when storms cause the river to rise dramatically. My dad’s house sits right beside the river, with every room looking out onto the water. During flood season, I often sit on the windowsill, watching debris drift by. In those moments, my imagination drifts with the current, wondering what treasures might emerge along the riverbank once the waters retreat.
 Adopting the form of a traditional begonia-shaped vase, envision its voyage after being misplaced from its last owner during the flood, only to be rediscovered by the riverbank decades afterward. In the intervening years, new life has thrived; the vase has transformed into a sanctuary for mythical beings, while the vestiges of its past utility faintly linger beneath.



Taking inspiration from the roots of banyan tree, it is a rainforest plant in this environment more often grows in the form of an epiphytic  strangler vine than that of a tree. Its roots get particularly strong in moist atmosphere, the pictures showing banyan tree roots climbing on the gates and walls made out of red sandstone. Its versatility in terms of environments provided source of food for many birds, and shades in the summer.
INTO THE NIGHTS . I


Professional Black Stoneware clay Smooth + White Stoneware
Burnished with river stone

Fired to 1260 c  
45 x 50 x 40 cm
 INTO THE NIGHTS. II


Professional Black Stoneware clay Crank + White Stoneware + Porcelin

Partialy galzed 

Fired to 1260 c  
22 x 15 x 12 cm
 As a child, I was always rushed home before sunset. After dark, the riverbank transformed—roots curled like fingers, and strange creatures seemed to emerge from the mud. I imagined bone-white blooms and watchful skulls whispering stories. But deeper into the night, something older stirred—waiting, listening, just beyond the reeds.






THE SHOW






original thought of using recycled carboard box as plinth.

Earliest attempt























Previous Works 2021-2023

BY THE RIVER FLEET IN THE RAINY DAY 01  
2023
Stoneware
 35 x 30 x 25cm


 

BY THE RIVER FLEET IN THE RAINY DAY 02
2023
Stoneware
15 x 15 x 33cm








BY THE RIVER FLEET IN A RAINY DAY 03
2023
Stoneware 
31 x 23 x 20


OTHER WORKS



SEPTEMBER 2023 
Stoneware 
30x25x25




DECEMBER 2022
Stoneware 
30x35x21



JANUARY 2024
Stoneware 
37 x 20 x 22


MARCH  2023
stoneware
33 x 15 x10