摘要：天地有至美，山川为大观。太行横亘华夏，嵯峨崔嵬，雄浑而不屈。王学辉生斯土也，少习其势，长涵其气，胸中丘壑自成。挥毫之际，万峰如聚，千壑竞奔;烟岚氤氲，松风浩荡，飞瀑倾泻，声动林壑。观其丹青，非徒形似山水，乃寄襟怀，寓精神也。雄者见其势，秀者得其神;虚实互生，动
天地有至美，山川为大观。太行横亘华夏，嵯峨崔嵬，雄浑而不屈。王学辉生斯土也，少习其势，长涵其气，胸中丘壑自成。挥毫之际，万峰如聚，千壑竞奔;烟岚氤氲，松风浩荡，飞瀑倾泻，声动林壑。观其丹青，非徒形似山水，乃寄襟怀，寓精神也。雄者见其势，秀者得其神;虚实互生，动静相应，皆一气而成。
是以凡接其作者，或心胸顿旷，或志节自励，知其画非仅娱目，而能启心。故论艺则高标独立，论道则托怀天下。诚可谓笔墨写山河，气象入襟怀矣。
山川奇伟 气吞八极
夫绘山水者，必以胸中丘壑为宗。无胸中丘壑，则丹青徒具形貌而乏神骨。王学辉少承太行风骨，长习山川之壮丽，故其胸怀浩荡，气魄磅礴。及至挥毫运墨，纵横布景，章法开张，必呈雄奇之观。
观其巨幅长卷，崇岭巍然，壁立千仞，群峰似苍龙横卧，烟岚若素练飘扬。或飞泉直下，声震林壑;或孤峰突兀，霜松凌风。画面之中，气势夺人，似有天地初开、万物勃发之象。
然雄壮之外，复见灵秀。其笔下溪泉潺潺，花木葱茏，烟树隐约，村舍依依。大处写山川之雄浑，小处点景物之清润。刚柔互济，雄中寓秀，气魄中有温情。正所谓“铁骨藏花纹，刚中有婉约”。
此等格局，非徒技艺之工，实赖胸怀之阔。王子之画，既能吞吐山川之势，又能寄寓性灵之真。观者临之，胸次顿开，心神为之一振，仿佛自登山巅而望八极之远，天地万象，尽入怀抱。
笔法沉雄 墨彩生辉
夫画以笔墨为骨，设色为华。若无笔墨，虽饰丹青，终若浮彩。王学辉之笔，沉雄痛快，直达物理。其勾皴点染，或如铁划银钩，劲健遒丽;或似春风入水，润泽含情。石壁之坚，松干之挺，皆笔锋所至，不假雕饰。
其设色之妙，在于“小青绿”。青不艳目，绿不失真。敷色轻淡，于墨骨之上点染，使画面既见苍茫，又有生机。丹枫烂然，翠竹森然，赭石厚实，皆与水墨相融。于是画卷中既具古雅高格，又生清新活力。
尤善写云。古法多以“吹云”点染，而王氏以皴擦晕染，虚实互生。或如轻纱漫卷，或似涛波奔涌。云与山合，水与烟融，动静莫测。观其图卷，如身游云壑，随风而动，心与天地同息。
章法布景，亦见匠心。或取特写，以小见大;或铺展千里，气势恢宏。疏密有致，虚实相应，繁而不乱，简而不空。观者移目之间，峰回路转，景随情迁。此理性与感性并行之美也。
是以其画，既能显山川之体势，又能寓心灵之灵动。非徒形似，乃达神韵。其所以动人，正缘笔墨与性情并至，设色与修养交融。
文心入画 神与道通
古人云：“画者，文之余事。”然文与画，本为一体。王学辉之画，非徒写山川形貌，实寄胸中襟怀。
其所绘太行，不惟崇岭巍峨，更寓民族坚忍不屈之魂。千仞之峰，象征浩然正气;奔腾之瀑，象征生生不息;烟云变幻，象征世事无常而又希望常在。是故观其画，非独赏山水之貌，亦得精神之蕴。
更可嘉者，其艺不独自娱。近年多以作品行于公益。或悬堂巨轴，振奋士气;或布乡小品，慰藉人心。抗疫之际，笔墨驰援，为医护题赠;佳联亦登京、汉、湘地铁，润泽行人。以艺载道，以画润心，斯乃丹青之大义。
综观其艺，可谓“笔墨开山河，气象入襟怀”。雄浑处，吞吐天地;灵秀时，萦回心曲。既承古人遗风，又开己身新境。于当代山水画林，卓然自立;于后世艺史，必留重笔。其人其画，皆可传世。
Wang Xuehui: Ink-Bone Congeals the Grand Taiyue, Colorful Splendor Mirrors the Divine Land
Heaven and earth contain the utmost beauty; mountains and rivers are its greatest spectacle. The Taihang Range spans China—lofty and rugged, majestic and unyielding. Born of this soil, Wang Xuehui in youth learned its force, in maturity absorbed its breath; the ravines and ridges took shape within his breast. When his brush moves, ten thousand peaks seem to gather, a thousand gorges race; mists billow, the wind in the pines surges, cataracts pour down, their roar stirring woods and valleys. To behold his paintings is not to meet mere likenesses of landscape; they lodge his feelings and embody his spirit. The strong perceive their power; the graceful seize their essence. Void and solid beget each other, movement and stillness answer each other—everything formed of one vital breath. Thus those who encounter his work find either their minds suddenly opened or their resolve renewed, knowing his paintings do more than please the eye: they can awaken the heart. In art he stands with lofty independence; in principle he bears the world in mind. Truly, with brush and ink he writes the land and rivers, and their grand atmosphere enters the bosom.
Mountains Wondrous and Grand, a Breath that Swallows the Eight Extremities
To paint landscape one must take the mountains and ravines within as the guiding law. Lacking inner terrain, pigments and ink have only outward form and no spirit or bone. From youth Wang Xuehui inherited the Taihang’s sinew and learned the grandeur of mountains and waters; therefore his heart is vast and his vigor expansive. When he sets brush to ink—composing broadly, laying out the scene with freedom—the result is necessarily a vision of the heroic and the rare.
In his monumental handscrolls, lofty ridges stand sheer, cliff walls rise a thousand ren; massed peaks lie like blue dragons across the land, mountain haze streams like plain silk. A flying spring may plunge straight down, its thunder shaking woods and ravines; a lone peak may thrust upward, frost-laden pines braving the wind. The momentum within the picture seizes the viewer, as if heaven and earth had just opened and all things were bursting forth.
Yet beyond the grandeur, there is limpid grace. Under his brush, brooks murmur, flowers and trees luxuriate, trees in mist loom faintly, cottages cling in fond nearness. At the grand scale he writes the mass of mountains and rivers; in the small he dots in scenes of clarity and moisture. Hard and soft sustain each other; strength carries grace; in the sweep there is warmth. As the saying has it, “Iron bones conceal floral pattern; within firmness there is delicacy.”
Such a configuration is not mere technical feat; it depends on breadth of heart. In Wang’s painting he can breathe in and out the force of mountains and rivers while conveying the truth of his nature. Stand before his work and the chest opens; the spirit is stirred—as though one had climbed to a summit and gazed toward the eight extremities, all creation gathered into one embrace.
Brushwork Deep and Heroic, Ink and Color Aglow
Painting takes brush and ink as its bones, coloring as its adornment. Without brush-and-ink, though decked in pigment, it is but superficial sheen. Wang’s brush is deep and heroic, untrammeled, reaching straight to the nature of things. In his outlining, texturing, dotting, and washing, he is at times like iron tracing silver hooks—vigorous and elegant; at times like a spring breeze entering water—moist and tender. The hardness of rock walls and the uprightness of pine trunks all arrive by the tip of the brush without contrived embellishment.
The subtlety of his color lies in the “little blue-and-green” palette: the blues do not glare, the greens do not lose their truth. He lays on color lightly over the “ink bones,” so the picture shows both a sense of vastness and a pulse of life. Crimson maples blaze, emerald bamboo bristles, ochres are substantial—all merging with the ink. Thus the scrolls possess both antique elegance and high character while brimming with fresh vitality.
He is especially adept at painting clouds. Where the old method often “blew clouds” with dotting, Wang employs texturing, rubbing, and graded washes so that void and solid generate each other—now like light gauze unrolling, now like waves surging. Cloud joins with mountain; water merges with mist; movement and stillness are unfathomable. To view his scrolls is as if to wander in clouded ravines, moving with the wind, one’s breath in rhythm with heaven and earth.
His compositional design also shows craftsmanship. Sometimes he chooses a close view to reveal the large through the small; sometimes he unfurls a thousand li with sweeping grandeur. Sparse and dense are well apportioned; void and solid correspond; richness without clutter, simplicity without emptiness. As the eye shifts, peaks turn and paths twist, the scene changing with the feeling. This is the beauty of reason and sensibility advancing together.
Thus his paintings both manifest the physical mass of mountains and rivers and house the quick responsiveness of the spirit. They are not mere resemblance; they attain spirit-resonance. What moves the viewer is precisely that brush-and-ink arrive together with temperament, and coloration fuses with cultivation.
A Literary Heart Entering the Painting, Spirit in Communion with the Dao
The ancients said, “Painting is the after-affair of letters.” Yet letters and painting are one body. Wang Xuehui’s work does not simply depict the outward forms of mountains and rivers; it conveys the feelings within his breast.
The Taihang he paints is not only lofty in ridge and peak; it also embodies the nation’s indomitable soul. Peaks of a thousand ren signify upright and noble qi; rushing cataracts signify life’s ceaseless renewal; the shifting of mist and cloud signifies the world’s inconstancy and the abiding of hope. Thus to view his paintings is not only to admire the appearance of landscape but also to receive its inner spirit.
More praiseworthy still, his art is not for self-delight alone. In recent years his works have often gone forth for the public good: great hanging scrolls in halls to lift morale; small pieces in the countryside to comfort hearts. During the fight against the pandemic, his brush and ink sped to the front, dedicating inscriptions to medical staff; fine couplets also appeared in the subways of Beijing, Wuhan, and Hunan, bringing refreshment to passersby. Using art to carry the Dao and painting to soothe the heart—this is painting’s high righteousness.
Surveying his art as a whole, one may say: “With brush and ink he opens mountains and rivers; their grand atmosphere enters the bosom.” In his moments of grandeur he inhales and exhales heaven and earth; in his moments of grace he lingers in the heart’s recesses. He inherits the old masters’ spirit while opening new realms of his own. In the forest of contemporary landscape painting he stands apart; in the art history of those to come he will surely leave a weighty stroke. The man and his paintings alike are worthy to endure.
责任编辑：苗君
来源：愙斋书法
