北京的三月，总有一种庄严与温暖交织的气息。人民大会堂内灯光柔和，红地毯笔直地延伸向大厅深处，来自全国各地的代表委员穿行其间。此刻的北京，不仅是中国政治生活的重要舞台，也是一座汇聚思想、文化与艺术的精神殿堂。
就在这样一个特殊的场合，我意外地遇见了。
他站在人群之中，神情沉稳而从容。西装外套下是一件带着艺术气息的衬衫，胸前佩戴着全国政协委员证件。那一刻，我忽然意识到：在这个庄重的政治空间里，一位雕塑家正以另一种方式参与国家的未来。
我走上前去，向他问候。“许老师您好，我是北欧来的媒体人，是广东新闻办邓大哥介绍我认识您的。”
他微微一愣，随即露出一种既谦逊又真诚的笑容。那种笑容，并不像许多艺术家刻意保持的“艺术姿态”，更像一个来自岭南的普通人，带着一点朴实的温度。
“感谢党和国家对艺术人才的重视。”他说。
这句话说得很平静，却让我印象极深。
很多人认识许鸿飞，是因为他的雕塑。那些充满生命力的作品——圆润、奔放、快乐的女性形象，常被称为“肥女系列”。它们在世界许多城市的广场、公园和博物馆中展出，带着一种几乎没有国界的幽默与欢乐。
艺术评论界曾说，许鸿飞的雕塑，是一种“会笑的雕塑”。
在西方传统雕塑中，人体往往象征力量、理性与秩序；而在许鸿飞的作品中，人体却变成一种生活的庆典。那些丰满的形体并不沉重，反而仿佛在空气中漂浮，在舞蹈，在歌唱。
这种艺术语言，其实很“广东”。
岭南文化从来不拘谨，不端着。它像珠江水一样流动，像南海的风一样自由。许鸿飞的雕塑，正是这种文化性格的立体表达。
然而，在人民大会堂再次见到他，我忽然意识到：艺术家的角色，也在悄然变化。
今天的许鸿飞，不只是雕塑家，也是全国政协委员。在这里，他不再只是塑造雕像的人，也成为为文化发声的人。
我们简单交谈了几句。他谈到中国文化“走出去”，谈到公共艺术在城市中的价值，也谈到年轻艺术家的成长环境。
他说，中国正在进入一个文化自信不断增强的时代。艺术不只是博物馆里的作品，也应该走进城市、走进生活，让普通人每天都能看见、触摸、感受。
我听着这些话，忽然想到北欧。
在斯德哥尔摩、哥本哈根、奥斯陆，公共艺术早已成为城市的一部分。雕塑不再是纪念碑，而是生活景观。人们会在雕塑旁骑车、散步、聊天。艺术在那里不是高高在上的，而是日常的一部分。
而许鸿飞的作品，恰恰也在做同样的事情。
他的雕塑没有距离感，没有威严感。它们像朋友一样出现在广场上、公园里，甚至在世界不同国家之间，成为一种文化交流的媒介。
那一刻，我忽然觉得，这次偶遇并不只是一次简单的相逢。
在人民大会堂这样象征国家权力与制度的空间里，一位雕塑家与一个来自北欧的媒体人短暂交谈，仿佛是一种象征：
政治、文化与艺术，正在同一个时代交汇。
临别时，我们在大厅里合影留念。灯光温暖，人群仍在流动。许鸿飞依旧保持着那种平静的神情。
我忽然想到一个画面——也许在未来的某个城市广场，人们会看到一尊许鸿飞的雕塑。
他们会笑，会拍照，会在雕塑旁边聊天。而很少有人知道，这位创造欢乐形象的艺术家，也曾在人民大会堂里，为文化、为艺术、为时代发声。
走出大厅时，北京夜色渐深。
红墙之外，春风正在慢慢吹起。
Meeting Xu Hongfei
A Chance Encounter at the Great Hall of the People
March in Beijing carries a special atmosphere—solemn yet warm.Inside the Great Hall of the People,the lights glow softly and the red carpet stretches deep into the grand corridors.Delegates and members of the national committees walk steadily through the halls.At this moment,Beijing is not only the stage of China’s political life,but also a gathering place of ideas,culture,and artistic spirit.
It was here that I unexpectedly encountered.
He stood calmly among the crowd.Beneath his dark suit was a shirt that carried a hint of artistic flair,and on his chest was the red badge of a member of the National Committee of the Chinese People’s Political Consultative Conference.In that moment,I realized something striking:within this solemn political space stood a sculptor,participating in the nation’s future in his own way.
I stepped forward to greet him.
“Professor Xu,hello.I’m a journalist from Northern Europe.Brother Deng from the Guangdong Information Office introduced me to you.”
He paused for a second,slightly surprised,and then smiled—a modest and sincere smile.It was not the carefully constructed expression of an artist posing for the world,but rather the warmth of a man from Guangdong,carrying a certain simplicity and honesty.
“Thanks to the Party and the country for valuing artistic talent,”he said quietly.
The sentence was simple,yet it stayed with me.
Many people know Xu Hongfei through his sculptures.His works—rounded,lively,joyful female figures—are widely known as the“Chubby Women”series.They have appeared in public squares,parks,and museums in cities around the world,carrying a kind of humor and happiness that transcends national borders.
Art critics often say that Xu Hongfei creates“sculptures that smile.”
In traditional Western sculpture,the human body often symbolizes power,rationality,and order.In Xu Hongfei’s works,however,the human body becomes a celebration of life itself.Those full and rounded figures do not feel heavy;instead they seem to float in the air—dancing,singing,and laughing.
In many ways,this artistic language feels distinctly Cantonese.
Lingnan culture has never been rigid or restrained.It flows like the waters of the Pearl River and moves as freely as the winds of the South China Sea.Xu Hongfei’s sculptures are a three-dimensional expression of this cultural temperament.
Yet seeing him again inside the Great Hall of the People made me realize that the role of an artist is quietly evolving.
Today Xu Hongfei is not only a sculptor but also a member of the National Committee of the CPPCC.Here,he is no longer merely shaping sculptures—he is also shaping conversations about culture.
We spoke briefly.He mentioned the importance of Chinese culture“going global,”the role of public art in urban life,and the need to create a better environment for young artists.
China,he said,is entering an era of growing cultural confidence.Art should not belong only to museums;it should belong to cities and daily life,allowing ordinary people to see,touch,and experience it every day.
Listening to him,I suddenly thought of Northern Europe.
In cities such as Stockholm,Copenhagen,and Oslo,public art has long been part of urban life.Sculptures are not distant monuments;they are part of the everyday landscape.People ride bicycles past them,sit beside them,or chat nearby.Art becomes part of daily living.
Xu Hongfei’s sculptures seem to do exactly the same.
They carry no distance,no solemn authority.Instead,they appear like friendly companions in squares and parks,creating joy in the shared spaces of cities.In many places around the world,his works have quietly become cultural bridges.
At that moment,I felt that this encounter was more than coincidence.
Inside the Great Hall of the People—a symbol of China’s political system—a sculptor and a journalist from Northern Europe shared a brief conversation.It seemed to represent something deeper:a moment where politics,culture,and art intersect in the same era.
Before leaving,we took a photograph together in the hall.The lights were warm,and people continued moving through the corridors.
Xu Hongfei still carried that calm and thoughtful expression.
I imagined a future scene.
Perhaps in some city square somewhere in the world,people will encounter one of Xu Hongfei’s sculptures.They will laugh,take photos,and chat beside it.
Few will know that the artist who created those joyful figures once stood inside the Great Hall of the People,speaking for culture,for art,and for the spirit of the times.
When I stepped outside,the night over Beijing had deepened.
Beyond the red walls,the early spring wind had begun to rise.
