ARTIST Xue Song's sensibility was forged by fire and devastation. When he was a young stage set designer and experimenting artist, fire swept through his studio, destroying everything, melting the window glass and leaving only charred scraps of paper, fragmentary calligraphy and images.

"The scene was so shocking that I suddenly realized this is it. This is what the power of painting cannot reach and what I have been longing for," Xue said, smiling as he recalled the exhilaration of that moment and sense of possibilities.

As he sat among ashes, the debris of this life, he had an epiphany.

"So I picked up some burned fragments, the remains of books, picture albums, my own work, bits of paper and tried to figure out how to present an image with them. Just as a scientist does an experiment."

Xue succeeded in rising from the ashes and finding his artistic language: collage made from burned fragments of everything from pop icons, political icons, luxury brands and religious figures - all burned, singed, blackened and reassembled to take on new meanings.

The acclaimed mixed media artist is sometimes called the "barbecue collage" artist for his use of fire and its multiple meanings. But viewers must look closely because the burned fragments are not blatantly burned, just enough, and seamlessly blended into the whole.

The universal message: everything is perishable and passes away, everything is destroyed in time, from the most powerful rulers to the most insignificant subjects.

In 1996 Xue shocked his audience with a collage series titled "Mao Zedong" in Bonn. The images were entirely composed of charred papers containing thoughts of the chairman, newspaper stories, slogans and images.

Xue's works are collected worldwide. The influence of Robert Rauschenberg can be seen.

One of his recent, gentler works is a 2-meter-tall smiling paper rabbit covered with collage made of bits of old Chinese New Year paintings and calligraphy. On closer inspection, the happy rabbit is comprised of nostalgic memories.

Collaboration

Last year Xue collaborated with the Italian fashion house Ferragamo on a limited edition of bags, wallets and T-shirts. For the Year of the Tiger, he depicted two tigers against pink peonies, the flowers made from scraps of reproduction calligraphy from the Ming Dynasty (1368-1644).

He is currently preparing for his third solo exhibition at Shanghai Art Museum later this year.

Xue, who was born in 1965, was one of the first artists who settled in 2000 in an old textile factory at 50 Moganshan Rd, then perfect for starving artists, today an upscale artists' hub and tourist attraction.

In his third-floor studio in a small shabby building unfinished works and printed materials (all to be burned) lie on his work table. Large collages, such as his famous "Coca-Cola" series and one featuring Feng Zikai's (1898-1975) poetic paintings, hang against the snow-white walls.

Sipping green tea, turning on some light music and lighting a cigarette, Xue sat down for a talk with Shanghai Daily.

Xue grew up in a small town in Anhui Province. Encouraged by his father, a middle school music teacher, Xue was interested in art since his childhood and liked music, painting and calligraphy.

When he decided to study art in college, his father was angry, beating him and saying he was throwing away his future.

"That was when people faithfully believed that 'mastery of math, physics and chemistry was the key to global success'," Xue recalled. "But I was very stubborn. My father was furious, but I never compromised."

In 1985, Xue studied stage design in the Shanghai Theater Academy and that period was pivotal in his artistic life.

He had wide freedom and the field of stage design has incubated notable artists, such as Cai Guoqiang, whose fireworks awed the world at the 2008 Olympic Games in Beijing. Another is Xue Song.

"The learning atmosphere was cutting-edge, free and open-minded. I could try whatever style came to mind and collaborate with whomever I wanted," he said.

He learned both traditional Chinese painting and Western oil painting at the same time. "There was no rigorous discipline. Painting actually doesn't mean much to me. The image matters most," he said.

While Xue was experimenting boldly in school, he was also seeking his own artistic language.

"I wanted to break the shackles of traditional Chinese art and surpass Western modern arts. It's easy to say but hard to do."

After graduation in 1988, Xue worked at the Shanghai Opera House as a stage designer, which also gave him plenty of time to experiment.

He used a 12-square-meter storage as a studio, but had no idea about his direction in art until a fire ripped through the small theater next door.

It was on December 26, 1989. "I will never forget that day," he said. "Actually, the next winter, my own studio burned, everything went up in smoke, my work and belongings," he said, his face wreathed in cigarette smoke.

"I didn't have time to grieve because my first thought was 'I am dead.' I could've been fired or arrested for ruining public property."

But he wasn't. Amid the devastation, the artist looked around and found inspiration in fire and collage.

It may take only a couple of days to complete small works and a month to complete large ones. Once he bought a large box of chocolates just to collect the bank note-patterned packaging. His friends give him all their old newspapers and magazines. "It once took six large trucks to clear them out of my old studio," Xue laughed.

At first glance, his collages are colorful pop art paintings, with abstract or iconic figures and big blocks of color.

Closer inspection reveals the half-burned fragments of many kinds of printed materials, political tracts, calligraphy, photography, cookbooks, reproductions of ancient paintings, folk art, religious icons, fashion magazines and other materials.

In 1992 he had his first solo show in Beijing and sold his first collage for US$1,000. He felt vindicated.

"I was ecstatic that my works were accepted and appreciated and I was encouraged because I could make a living with my work," Xue said.

In his earliest works, Xue tended to use popular symbols, iconic figures and powerful colors, blending them to make statements about politics, culture and life, as in his Mao series.

"The original intention is quite simple. I want to instantly grab people's attention, so I use commonly recognized figures," Xue said.

Today Xue's collages look brighter and lighter. Since 2000 he has incorporated more elements of traditional Chinese culture. The change has been a natural evolution.

He cites traditional Chinese painting. "When I was young I was rebellious and hated this stuff very much. But when I suddenly had time to sit down during the SARS crisis in 2003, I began to fall in love with some masterpieces."

Maybe this appreciation comes with age, he said, "but I think everyone will have a moment in his or her life to enthusiastically fall in love with our traditional culture."