2026

The Horizon Holds

A solo presentation by
Matti Gao
Curated by Yiran Zhu

A return to simple longings.
There is a kind of emotion — seeing a face, a stretch of sea, a single flower; a sunrise, a sunset.
The kind of emotion that makes you want to cry.
Perhaps it is beauty.
The kind of emotion that makes you want to depict it, to capture it, to praise it, to preserve it.
You fear that once you have seen it, there will not be a second time.
And in truth, that fear is valid — no sunrise, no sunset is ever the same.
From creation to eternity.
And yet:
Simplicity is so difficult.
To have no strategy, no plan, but to be drawn forward by a force —
to keep walking, searching, looking, and then simply keep painting.
This world does not teach us how to live simply;
instead, it makes us more and more complex.
We long for clarity, for something real.
But must this clarity be achieved through effort?
Or is it, on the contrary, a return to an original state — a beginning?
To go back to nature:
fields, the seaside.
Food and clothing —
simple, natural.
We may not fly,
but we can run,
and we can swim.
Labour, too, is a simple act.
All intellectual work is also a way of sensing the world’s truth, goodness, and grandeur.
All work is creative:
sowing seeds, watering them,
and letting everything grow naturally.
And all of this must be shared —
like discovering a beautiful flower
and wanting at once to show it to the one you love.
You run, you cheer,
toward the sea where the sunrise can be seen,
toward the place that feels like home.
Walking, looking, writing, painting…

(Matti Gao, Jan 2026, Pevensey Bay)

回到简单的追求，
就是一种感动，看到一张脸，一片海，一束花。一次日出、一次日落。
那种感动，让你想哭。
可能是美。
那种感动，让你想去描绘、捕捉、赞美、留存。
你怕看到一次，就没有第二次了。
其实没错，这个惧怕是成立的，没有任何一次日出、日落时一样的。
从创世，到永恒。
不过：
简单，好难。
要没有策略、计划，但是被一种力量吸引着，不停往前走，不停的寻找，看，然后就
不停的画着。
这个世界并没有要教会我们简单生活的意思，反而是让我们变得越来越复杂。
我们想要一种清晰，一种真实，但是这种真实和清晰，是需要努力得到的吗？还是恰
恰相反，要我们回归到一种初心，
一种初始的状态。
比如回到自然去，
田野、海边
吃的、穿的
简单、天然
不能飞，
但能跑，
更能游水
劳作，也是一种简单的行为，
所有的脑力劳动，也都是去感受这个世界的真实、良善和壮美
所有的工作，都是创造性的
撒种子、浇水
然后让一切自然生长
但是这一切也都是要分享的
好像你发现了一束漂亮的花
就很像马上分享给你爱的人
你飞奔着、欢呼着
朝着那片能看见日出的海
朝着那个像家一样的地方
边走、边看、边写、边画… …

Matti Gao 高宏伟
2026年1月，Pevensey Bay

_______


Curator's texts by Yiran Zhu

The horizon is almost a mythical concept. It is, by definition, the farthest place one can ever see, always present yet never tangible. A stone-solid constant for humankind through flux and change. Generations of painters, especially those who favour landscape, have used it as the baseline for the entire world they decide to recreate on canvas. In this manner, Matti Gao does position himself among them. Yet he has been drawn to the horizon for different reasons.

For Matti, it is not so much about the standardisation and stability a horizon provides, but rather its role as the birthplace of the most important element of our visual world — light. In his works, the horizon doesn’t just divide the sky and the sea, rather it holds the promise that light, or in other words, hope, will eventually return. Matti’s understanding of light is both factual and metaphorical at the same time. He believes light to be the ultimate solution to darkness, physically and mentally. Thus, in the works exhibited, he passionately and tirelessly paints the moments when light breaks through the sky. In such a gesture, he transcends his faith in a brighter and more peaceful outer and inner world.

The Horizon Holds, following his previous solo exhibitions in the past two years — Voyaging, Homecoming in London and My Art World Friends in Hong Kong — continues Matti’s never ending obsession about the sea. To him, the sea is symbolic of homecoming. Although living an entirely different life, he was deeply moved by Matthew Perry’s memoir, Friends, Lovers, and the Big Terrible Thing. One scene that struck him the most was the unaccompanied flights Perry had taken in his childhood between his separated parents in Canada and California, during which the young Perry would press his face against the airplane windows and search for the first glimpse of the horizon meeting the sea. For the young Perry, the sight of horizon meeting the sea suggested his arrival at California, his father’s home. Matti, too, has been constantly on the move since a rather young age. He has similarly found solace from the sea, but as a spiritual anchor. He spent time sitting on the beach in Cyprus, gazing into the ocean, allowing it to wash his soul with gentleness and generosity. Just like what Vincent van Gogh, the nineteenth-century Dutch painter
Matti adores greatly, wrote to his brother Theo, “[…]the sea is very beautiful; there were many bugs at Mr. Stokes, but the view from the school window made one forget them”, the sea has the magic of bringing people to a state of peace. And it is this magic that Matti has been experiencing, expressing and sharing through his work.

In Matti’s paintings, the horizon is no longer simply a distant boundary, but a liminal site charged
with silent tension. Light accumulates along its edge, and time seems to hover between departure and arrival. Within this suspended space, the horizon becomes a subtle reminder and offers a quiet assurance that even in perpetual movement, one may still glimpse the outline of home.