“The Execution” by Yue Minjun depicts a mesmerizing surreality created by the incongruity between the characters’ facial expressions and their situations. As its title suggests, the painting is set up to look like an execution with nearly-naked prisoners arranged in a line opposite men in T-shirt we can assume to be the executioners. “Assume” is key in this painting because the men are not actually holding guns, but rather have their arms arranged in a way that appears to be holding a gun, but the actual guns are otherwise absent or invisible.
However, as odd as an execution without guns, the aspect of the painting most noticeable, almost overshadowing the conspicuous absence of weapons, is the expression on all of the figures’ faces. For every single on of them (that we can see) seem to be in the middle of a humungous fit of laughter and only just able to hold their relative positions. Every one of the four victims and the one visible “gunman” has a wide-stretched, laughing mouth, characteristic of the characters in all of Minjun’s paintings.
The juxtaposition that this painting creates between situation and human expression creates a tension that is uncommon and disturbing. The way that the figures seem to be mocking the execution while clearly in a submissive position suggest that the artist is trying to show the ridiculousness of executions without the horrors. Instead of taking the more common approach to depict an execution with violence and helplessness, Minjun chooses how silly it is to line men up in their underwear to meet their death.
Minjun’s choice to omit painting in the guns adds further to the painting’s sense of ridicule because it would seem as if the figures were “playing” execution like they were children, with imaginary guns and imaginary death.
The strong laughing image that exists in this piece does more than just create a sense of mockery. Because laughter is such a versatile image and symbol in art, its use in this piece can be interpreted several ways. For instance, the slight differentiation between the facial expressions on each victim seem to exhibit different types of laughter and different feelings. The leftmost victim is taking what appears to be an indignant stance and therefore seems to be laughing at his executioner as if to mock him and his absurd invisible gun. The second, however, seems to be laughing at his own squeamishness, turning away from the executioners but then laughing, perhaps out of nervousness or maybe just relief. The third man hold himself as if he is laughing at the others, maybe for their awkward positions or their needless fright, and the last almost seems to be looking behind him as if to an audience and laughing with them.
And then there is the executioner in the right foreground, his arms cradling empty space and his face practically distorted with the strength of his deranged laughter. This figure in particular seems to be laughing at the entire situation, yet is literally grasping for a reality that does not exist. Perhaps he is laughing at the victims for their ridiculous carefree expressions in the face of their imminent death, still unaware that his arms are empty and there is no threat. Or perhaps this painting has religious implications and the guns are real and the viewer does not see them because the victims do not see them because they have already moved on from their earthly lives and are free and therefore laugh freely at those trying to hurt them or pity them.
The effect of laughter in a visual piece like this, as opposed to in a literary work, is surprisingly similar due to the many interpretations that laughter can elicit depending on the situation, the character and the observer. While laughter in literature depends mostly on the context and the previous characterization to help describe laughter, visual art depends upon the viewer’s ability to interpret body language or perhaps even one’s own ability to laugh. And while laughter in the visual sense is most often of a more or less harmless nature (think candid photographs, not Minjun’s piece), laughter in literature is most often importantly associated with madness, superiority, power, or some other negative characteristic. So although both media allow for several interpretations of laughter, literature (in my experience) seems to use laughter for the expression of darker motives than those in visual art.
However, as odd as an execution without guns, the aspect of the painting most noticeable, almost overshadowing the conspicuous absence of weapons, is the expression on all of the figures’ faces. For every single on of them (that we can see) seem to be in the middle of a humungous fit of laughter and only just able to hold their relative positions. Every one of the four victims and the one visible “gunman” has a wide-stretched, laughing mouth, characteristic of the characters in all of Minjun’s paintings.
The juxtaposition that this painting creates between situation and human expression creates a tension that is uncommon and disturbing. The way that the figures seem to be mocking the execution while clearly in a submissive position suggest that the artist is trying to show the ridiculousness of executions without the horrors. Instead of taking the more common approach to depict an execution with violence and helplessness, Minjun chooses how silly it is to line men up in their underwear to meet their death.
Minjun’s choice to omit painting in the guns adds further to the painting’s sense of ridicule because it would seem as if the figures were “playing” execution like they were children, with imaginary guns and imaginary death.
The strong laughing image that exists in this piece does more than just create a sense of mockery. Because laughter is such a versatile image and symbol in art, its use in this piece can be interpreted several ways. For instance, the slight differentiation between the facial expressions on each victim seem to exhibit different types of laughter and different feelings. The leftmost victim is taking what appears to be an indignant stance and therefore seems to be laughing at his executioner as if to mock him and his absurd invisible gun. The second, however, seems to be laughing at his own squeamishness, turning away from the executioners but then laughing, perhaps out of nervousness or maybe just relief. The third man hold himself as if he is laughing at the others, maybe for their awkward positions or their needless fright, and the last almost seems to be looking behind him as if to an audience and laughing with them.
And then there is the executioner in the right foreground, his arms cradling empty space and his face practically distorted with the strength of his deranged laughter. This figure in particular seems to be laughing at the entire situation, yet is literally grasping for a reality that does not exist. Perhaps he is laughing at the victims for their ridiculous carefree expressions in the face of their imminent death, still unaware that his arms are empty and there is no threat. Or perhaps this painting has religious implications and the guns are real and the viewer does not see them because the victims do not see them because they have already moved on from their earthly lives and are free and therefore laugh freely at those trying to hurt them or pity them.
The effect of laughter in a visual piece like this, as opposed to in a literary work, is surprisingly similar due to the many interpretations that laughter can elicit depending on the situation, the character and the observer. While laughter in literature depends mostly on the context and the previous characterization to help describe laughter, visual art depends upon the viewer’s ability to interpret body language or perhaps even one’s own ability to laugh. And while laughter in the visual sense is most often of a more or less harmless nature (think candid photographs, not Minjun’s piece), laughter in literature is most often importantly associated with madness, superiority, power, or some other negative characteristic. So although both media allow for several interpretations of laughter, literature (in my experience) seems to use laughter for the expression of darker motives than those in visual art.
This painting sold for $5.9 million (!)
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