Photography at “Useful Life 2010”

Stephanie Hsu

Contemporary Art and New Media in China

10/7/10



Photography at “Useful Life 2010”

ShanghART H-Space at 50 Moganshan Road in Shanghai is currently presenting “Useful Life 2010,” a mixed media exhibition by Yang Fudong, Yang Zhenzhong, and MadeIn, an art collaborative founded by Xu Zhen. Following up “Useful Life 2000,” the exhibition that launched the three artists’ careers a decade ago, “Useful Life 2010” claims to be “more a challenge rather than a continuation,” as stated by the text on the introductory wall panel. The text continues: “The art environment, artists’ creative concepts, their ways of expression, even their identities, all changed. How to face a new context, how to find one’s place?” During my time in the gallery space, I felt most engaged with these questions while viewing the exhibition’s two photography series, “International Hotel” by Yang Fudong and an untitled work by Yang Zhenzhong.

As I looked at “International Hotel,” the series of five photographs by Yang Fudong, I thought about the exhibition’s concern with the process of re-contextualizing identity over the course of time. To me, the black and white photographs of young Chinese women posing by a swimming pool were reminiscent of the “modeng nüxing,” or “modern girl” of the pre-World War II era, whose stylish, sexualized image in cigarette advertisements and film posters came to represent the liberation of women from long-standing social and cultural customs. The photographs strongly conveyed the strong male gaze of the photographer, with the bright flash capturing the women smiling and seeming to respond coyishly to an unseen subject behind the camera.

Yang Zhenzhong’s untitled series of 25 portraits also implicated the strong presence of the photographer. The portraits depicted 25 subjects, who all seemed to be of Chinese descent, but varying in age and gender. The subjects were all smiling widely and appearing to be inspired or amused by their interaction with someone behind the camera. While most of the subjects seemed genuine in their expression when I observed them individually, I found that as I scanned the portraits one after another, the series quickly revealed its artificiality. The bright flash of the camera, the studio setting, the hardened expressions of a few subjects, and the sheer intensity of having 25 of these 100 x 100 cm portraits placed in succession all pointed towards the series’ attempt to contrive feeling and sentiment through performance. A large, plastic red star, resting flimsily in the corner opposite of the portraits, seemed to give context to the series as a sardonic commentary on the artificiality and constructed-ness of nationalistic feeling during the Cultural Revolution. Thinking about propaganda and performance, I was reminded of film stills of the Yang Ban Xi, many of which depict the staged, exaggerated expressions of the opera’s protagonists. Like Yang Fudong’s “International Hotel,” Yang Zhenzhong’s series seemed to grapple with historical memory by contextualizing the past in the present.

Useful Life 2010

Below and attached is a copy of my blog.

Thanks,
Cori


M50 Art District: “Useful Life” Exhibit
The exhibition “Useful Life” at the Shanghai Art Gallery H Space displayed the photographs, film, and sculpture pieces by the artists Yang Fudong, Yang Zhenzhong and Xu Zhen. In the large, warehouse-like space of the gallery, Yang Zhenzhong's series of photographs called Extras displayed meter tall faces of people smiling. Their faces gleam and the crows feet and creases around their mouths are accentuated by their smooth skin. The faces are all beautiful, but after looking at more than twenty photographs of lovely, smiling faces they begin to look very plastic. Similarly Yang Fudong's series of photographs, called International Hotel also uses beautiful, smiling people as subjects. The ladies in the series are all beautiful; they remind me of the Shanghai Lady posters from the 1930s. In Yang Fudong's “The Fifth Night” video installation, it is another beautiful scene shown in black and white from seven different camera angles. At first, I was pulled in by all the different shots, It was like being a security guard watching multiple screens. However, after several minutes I still wasn't sure if I understood what was going on.
The show dealt a lot with beauty, particularly beautiful people, and created an almost surreal atmosphere in the space. However, it was also, as many descriptions mention, the artists “revalidating” the exhibition from ten years ago. This exhibit certainly brings their show back to the limelight, though I am not sure how successful the exhibit is this time.

M50

Joon Nam
Week 4
M50 Shanghai

The visit to M50 last week on September 30, 2010 took me by surprise since I was expecting to visit a temple instead. Located little to the north west of Shanghai, M50 is an art community that perhaps symbolizes the rapid growth of China’s (and the East Asia’s as a whole) contemporary art scene together with 798 of Beijing. The visit to Shanghai Contemporary fair earlier in September gave me a good outlook of the today’s art scene in China, and I was able to spot some familiar works that I saw at SH Contemporary when we were walking around in M50.

The first gallery we walked into was Aike Gallery, which was holding an exhibition called “There is nothing you can measure anymore”. It was a short stop before the main gallery we went to, but “Retired Pillar” by Jin Shan proved to be a quite interesting piece. It was a deflated rubber sculpture in the shape of a pillar, which represented the Western culture that is present in Shanghai but heavily modified to be localized.

The main exhibition that we visited, “Useful Life 2010” at ShanghART, proved to be a bit of a disappointment, however. Most of the works that I saw was uninspiring, especially “Iternational Hotel” by Yang Fudong, which to me was just a series of photographs of pretty Chinese girls with no artistic meanings. His other exhibition, a film work called “The Fifth Night” was a bit more interesting, yet I did not see any direction in the film and came to be disappointed as well.

M50 “Useful Life”

Nina Boys
Contemporary Art and New Media in China
M50 “Useful Life”
10.06.2010


The exhibition “Useful Life 2010” featured in the artsy area “M50” in Shanghai featured the three prominent Chinese artists; Yang Fudong, Yang Zhenzhong and Xu Chen. It was a reprisal of an exhibition that went by the same name ten years ago featuring the same artists. While I had not had the opportunity to visit “Useful Life” in 2000, I could still sense the diversity of inspiration among the different works, and in a sense, the evolutionary thread that tied the exhibition together. From hyper-realistic portraits of various citizens by Zhenzhong entitled “Extras” to Fudong’s multi-perspective black and white feature called “Fifth Night” to Zhen’s “Spread”; a rainbow printed forest that stood majestically in the center of the room, the very title “Useful Life” both referencing and satirizing the artist’s life, career and spectrum of work. Upon doing further reading on the artists’ take on the exhibition it is interesting to note that while ten years have passed, and certainly with that time came changes in technique, inspiration and material, all of them reflect on the fact that that which should not have changed, hasn’t. The artist’s core identity is still reflected in the way in which he perceives the world around him. While this is not necessarily a quantifiable change, I can imagine that the exhibition that premiered a decade ago would reflect what I saw in the present-day, with the changes more in the artist’s style and the fundamental changes that have occurred in our world over the past decade, with the artists’ core character still shining through strong as ever.

Useful Life 2010

Beginning September 9th and lasting until November 5th, ShanghART Gallery presents an exhibit curated around the theme “Useful Life.” Featured artists are Yang Fudong, Yang Zhenzhong, and Xu Zhen. I found Yang Fudong’s film “The Fifth Night” to be especially memorable. Upon entering “The Fifth Night” exhibition space, I was instantly struck by the presentation: seven large screens simultaneously played black and white film. Yang refers to this technique as “multiple eyes film” as it allows the viewer to experience one scene from seven vantage points. At first glance, this was disorienting as it was impossible to follow the film’s plot. This loss in comprehension was replaced though with heightened senses that drew awareness to individual movements and expressions. Even the most mundane actions became nearly monumental, examined carefully and followed slowly. The “multiple eyes film” technique is in part a result of Yang finding beauty in randomness. Since true randomness cannot be created, Yang found it in the cameramen’s subtle adjustments, and the actors’ slight reactions to the multiple lenses. As I continued to observe the film, I attempted further to dissect the theme, but found myself enthralled with the drama of pending moments. Even the smallest steps gave way to a near ominous feeling. This mood forces the viewer to slow down, to observe the drama of time. Finding perfection is randomness and change is indeed a characteristic of a “useful life;” however, the over-plasticity of the actors counteracted this. By reducing the human element, the viewer was distanced from the scene. The overall effect brought attention to time and movement, but in a near surreal world.

Meredith Rankin

Useful life 2010

Here is my blog entry: Mikael Larsson

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Useful life 2010
Duration: 2010-09-11 to 2010-11-05

The exhibit useful life being shown at ShanghArt H-Space at M50 Art district
In Shanghai is not necessarily a retrospective of the three now established contemporary artists, MadeIn, Yang Fudong & Yang Zhenzhong. Instead it seems to be a display of what their current art and possibly future direction will be. We see to where they have evolved to since their first exhibit with the same name “Useful Life” was put up 10 years ago. Unfortunately I was not here to see the first show, but looking at their early works you see the stronger presence of a carved out style and the difference in the use of material and production that before must have been unobtainable for them.

I was especially drawn to Yang Zhengzhong’s discarded star sculpture.
Maybe for its underlying social message craftsmanship and beauty, but most likely for the same reason the entire exhibit is attractive; due to its high level of commercial appeal.
Red is after all the best color: at least according to this ehow guide on abstract art.
http://www.ehow.com/how_5710588_pick-colors-great-abstract-art.html

The overly commercial tone that is seen through out the show is especially obvious
in Yang Fudong’s movie installation where it seems most effort has been put in to expensive equipment and production.
But who can blame them, success and commercialism seem to go hand in hand these
days in art. The more you can sell and the more recognizable you are the better. I suppose I really see nothing bad with it. But sometimes true innovation and magnetic pull to a work is missed. To always have the same overly used mental buttons pressed gets dull after a while.
I for one know! that the color red always gets me.

Exhibition: Useful Life2010: MadeIn, Yang Fudong, Yang Zhenzhong

Useful Life2010 -- MadeIn, Yang Fudong, Yang Zhenzhong

2010-07-25 18:12

ShanghART/Gallery/PressRelease

Opening
Sept. 10th, 2010, Friday (5pm-8pm)
Duration:
Sept. 11th, 2010 - Nov. 5th, 2010
ShanghART H-Space, 50 Moganshan Rd. Bldg.18

H-Space, bldg 18, 50 Moganshan Road, Shanghai

How long is the validity of an exhibition, 10 years or longer? 10 years ago, it was in the millennial 2000 that Chinese contemporary art reached its new start. In that autumn, three budding young artists, Yang Fudong, Yang Zhenzhong and Xu Zhen, launched their group exhibition in Shanghai, known as Useful Life 2000. The remarkable success of this exhibition brings them to the spotlight of the Chinese contemporary art, even the world stage.

Today, decade after the exhibition, they will “revalidate” it again, which is Useful Life 2010. In these years, three novas have evolved to the elite of Chinese contemporary art. Meanwhile, the contemporary art faces a different context in china from the former era. Now these three artists decide to make an extension of the useful life, and brand new works will be shown. All these works will indicate the maturity, the introspection and the track of their art, especially their firm attitude. ShanghART is looking forward to meet you in this autumn and see the beginning of the new useful life.

Related Exhibitions:

want my soul to come out of my mouth

A conversation between Alexa Haas and Lisa Lim

>早上好！
～早上好。

>Haha are you nervous? Don't be nervous.

~Haha I am nervous. I don't know what I will say. I think ever since I
started getting serious about a film career I've been scared of that
one day where I would be interviewed and what I say really matters.
>No, you shouldn't think of it like that. This is really casual, don't think of it as an interview, I mean an interview is really just a conversation. I just want to know about your experience and thoughts this semester.
~But in relation to art, right?
>Well, this is for your art class.

~Yea, but I think what I am scared of going into this is that I think
I have to talk about everything at once in order to express anything I
am thinking.
>I know, I know, that's why we decided it would be better for you to record this conversation than write an essay…So where should we start?

~I guess…we could start from the first exhibit we went to. The
Propaganda Poster exhibit. Because looking back now, it seems like I
didn't really know anything then. I mean, that is day one, so. Well,
it was called "Art is History," which I personally had always believed
too. Once when I was taking psychology, which I failed, my professor ~
Professor Coons ~ wrote this one thing in the course reader. We never
talked about it in class or anything, but when I read that line, it
seriously altered they way I looked at society and people and film and
art especially. Ugh, I wish film and art were seen as the same thing,
but they are such different businesses. But they are so…!! They are
recording the same history!!! If you look at film in China after the
Cultural Revolution, it tells exactly the same story.

>Wait, tell me first about what your professor said? Or wrote I mean.

~Oh sorry sorry, it was something like…wait, I want to say it exactly
how it was: Myths and…legends….oh, "Myths, legends and fairytales
allow us to glimpse into those hidden concerns that are shared by
whole cultural groups." I mean, I've been reciting this sentence to
people for years, for three years since I took that class. It's like
on my facebook haha. Sometimes I say it and it feels like it loses
it's meaning. Like I just said it, and I'm like no wait, that's dumb
because that doesn't really have to do with anything.

>No, no, it makes sense. It is true. Do you think we can just reword it and say, "Art allows us to look at concerns shared by a peoples?" I mean who is telling today's myths and fairytales if not art? Like, is it politics…or…?
~Like maybe its newspapers too.

>Haha yea, I mean, well...actually, that's true. Actually, it is newspapers too. I think the media is telling its own myth too, maybe the myth the authorities want you to believe.

~God that sounds so ridiculous when you put it that way, for someone
to want to force you into believing a myth a certain way. But the myth
of the authorities doesn't express the hidden concerns of the people.
So it is really the art that does. Like the hidden concerns are in
reaction to the authorities' myth. The propaganda art museum is an
interesting place to begin, because no one was saying what they were
actually thinking. But it still expresses so much about that mindset
of that time.

>Mm, definitely, "the boundless power of people!" 努力努力！

~No that's that exactly it. Its like all about The People. Like, ughh,
I wish I could say it so simply! I am quite obsessed with the concept
of 'man and nature.' Like I seriously dig the concept of A Harmonious
Society of today's China. But listen, listen.

>I'm listening!!
~haha I know I just want to fully convey this thought to you: okay
so…Okay…Alright, so traditional Chinese paintings. Let's start there
and then go to now, okay?
>Haha okay, I'm with you, chillax~*

~So! Chinese traditional paintings. In the beginning of this semester,
the way people looked in the paintings quite bothered me. They weren't
particularly, I don't know, beautiful I guess? But then one day when I
was in the Forbidden City this guy asked me and my friend to come into
his studio, which was right inside the Forbidden City, to look at some
artwork that him and his art classmates made. They were studying
conventional form like traditional Chinese paintings. He said to me,
"look, look you see, the person is so small in the scene. It
represents the harmony between man and nature…" and I was like,
"ohhh!" that was a big realization for me. That is a concept that
doesn't exist anymore. The person is always emphasized.

>mmm…Lynn Pann showed us a painting during the HaiPai time, of a man etched in with full detail but his clothes are painted broadly in traditional smooth one-lines. She said that it was a painting in light of the Western model because of all the detail paid attention to the human figure. HaiPai.
~Ughhh everything is in light of the western model, it is so
frustrating!!! The western model suuuuucks.
>Don't you think it is necessary though to dissect the human before realizing themselves in accord with nature?

~mmm…that's quite a beautiful thought. Like exploring the oceans
before going to space. I think maybe that step is necessary, actually.
But I hope we are getting out of it and focusing on other things now.
Doesn't it seem like Chinese artists focus more on nature than the
authorities do? I think it is possible for a people to move forward
without their government. Wait…this is what I wanted to say. Tradish
Chinese paintings to propaganda art. they are complete opposites from
each other. And I think that mindset still exists today in today's
advertisements. Like for the expo especially. Like people perfectly
lit up by the sun, perfect conditions for people. Big smiling faces so
featured.

>Mm, I'd agree, it is an interesting connection. It makes it seem like maybe people in China haven't really changed in what they want. Because they are still advertising that big smiling face. Do you think that is what Yue Min Jun is poking fun at with his signiture smiling face.

~Ugh, you know I used to really like him. I mean, when I was signing
up for this class, I just typed in 'Contemporary Chinese Art' into
Google Images, because I actually had no idea what that would
entail…and I saw him. Or his work, I mean lol. I really loved him at
first seeing him, I felt like I understood the work on first viewing,
I felt like it made sense that it was Chinese Contemporary Art. Even
though then I was SO naïve, haha, it's ridiculous. I like didn't even
really know what happened at Tiananmen Square at that point,
god…that's so sad. I mean I had a general idea! Ah! Don't judge
me!...Anyway, when I first saw his work I thought it was a comment on
Chinese culture. I saw it quite positively. About real happiness, and
gay outings, and a comfort with the body ~ because I think the first
painting I saw was a painting of men in their slinky bodies laughing
with each other in their underwear. Now I see his paintings like
everywhere, like lots of fakes actually. Like in the fake market, they
have a lot of re-do's of his paintings. Isn't that interesting?
>I mean, he's been painting that face for more than a decade now. Like that's sort of absurd, don't you think? You think he would have had some like, life changing experience since then or something, that would make him look upon things differently. Even his compositions are pretty much consistent.
~Barbara said we could see it that he figured out a marketable icon,
and has just been making money off of it since then. And then JJ asked
us if we would want it hanging in our house, and we said yes, because
it is really happy. But I don't think I think that anymore.

>Propaganda Museum. Chinese Paintings.

~Mmm, I know, I think that really what lasts from each era is the art.
I mean maybe the newspapers will be kept on record, but I don't know,
I don't think it is taken as seriously as the art of a time. What is a
<<collective memory>>? You know, it is the images and songs of a
time.

>But you know, just because traditional Chinese paintings expressed harmony between man and nature, doesn't mean people in that time lived in that principle. So art can't really represent time.

~But what about "the Garden as the setting for a good life" ~ it was
more embedded in the everyday life of people in that time. Wasn't the
garden a necessary part of a family's house. I feel like that
represented an accordance with nature. Like right now, cities are so
gray and removed from nature. Mm but I guess I actually don't know
enough about how people actually acted in their everyday during that
traditional Chinese painting period, but like, I think it became like
a practice. I mean, like those students in Beijing are still painting
Chinese paintings in the same way right now, but maybe without fully
understanding the principles. Or I mean, they must. But those
propaganda posters encapsulate it all about that time. Even the lies,
and especially the fantasy of the time.
>Did you see Zhang Dali's: A Second History ? That book is in Defne's library in the student lounge…?

~Mmm, I've looked at it. When Gu Zheng, the photographer/Fudon U.
professor came to visit he showed us some pictures from that book. Mao
digging a hole with a fellow comrade, whom he later denounced, so the
picture was modified to be just Mao digging alone. So crazy…

>Ya, I know. That book is like, incredible.

~Gu Zheng introduced to me the idea of reality vs. 'posed reality.'
Like he personally really enjoyed going into the street to take
pictures, in response to propaganda photos. People look at a
photograph to confirm something about reality. And he thought that the
street is a stage for the truth of everyday life. He found the work he
was producing to be very political because he was showing real daily
life in a way that the authorities try to hide.

>Yea China did that again in order to prepare for the expo. It's like cleaning your room before the maids come, because you don't want to be thought of messy. They want to appear a certain way.

~Yea but you can't pose people in real life the way you want them to
be. So taking pictures of real daily life is really the opposition of
a <<forced image>>. Naturally, I started thinking about film, because
it is so often all posed. But that is not all true, because right now
there is a strong movement of shooting on location, heavily
improvised, low-budget, independent films – all around the world
including China. But it is always true of Hollywood. Hollywood's
representation of life is as fantastical as propaganda art. I thought
about how China Film Bureau only imports twenty foreign films a year.
Most of which are Hollywood movies. So this is how the Chinese people
view American society really. This semester, I got with a Chinese guy,
BinBin. And he like completely misinterpreted what people are like in
America. I think he thought we were like out of a Hollywood movie. It
was like, ridiculous. He told me he liked me then immediately went in
for a passionate-ass kiss. Like it could be so simple! I asked my
Chinese friends if this was normal Chinese behavior, and they said,
"no it means he is a bad person." Haha. But we had sex later in the
year, he put like the craziest cheesy song ridden with electric violin
on repeat, and it must have played like 90 times that night. It
reminds me of a quote from this Brazilian movie, Eu Sei Que Vou Te
Amar : "Do you think love has always existed? No…there was no love in
Babylon…Love was invented by American movies to make money."

>Mmm…I think the Chinese are rather fond of the Hollywood mindset, but I think that is because Chinese itself is just a very sentimental culture. Especially the language. I think the Chinese, culturally, perceive that fantastical happy world as something that is attainable. Like look at "harmonious society."
~Defne put it like, "a perversion of emotions."

>mmm…but there is another thing about Hollywood's influence on China. I mean, just that American mindset. In the 90s, mimicking consumer culture, mimicking the way American movies look even, let's think about China in the 80s. How would you describe the way art of the 80s looked in like, let's say, three words:
~mmm…Earthy – like I think of a lot of black and brown,
mmm…oil…annnd…idealistic. Mmm but it is defiantely a backlash to all
the propoganda art like Gu Zheng. And now I'm thinking about JJ's
symbols of nature, the moon and rocks and soil.

>Yes, yes, yes. And you were talking about man's relationship to nature before. I think the artists of the 80s in their idealism thought they understood how to get to a utopia. There was this fallback onto nature. A reemphasis of the elements and of spirituality. But then came the anti-spiritual pollution campaign and then the June 4th incident. And then started the economic reforms, the mimicking of western culture.
~mm, mm. and why is Chinese sentimentality so funny in English, I
think has to do something with the spirit as well. That the Chinese
language has such a beautiful emphasis on the heart, the body and the
mind, and the harmony between them. This is where the American mindset
fails. Spirituality and like even the word, 'meditation' is funny in
English. It conjures up images of like guru hippie, drugged-up…I don't
know. I think people find it quite insincere.

>And if you look at the composition of the Hollywood movie, where is the emphasis? On the people.
~Why are people always the subject?

>It is just what interests people.

~Well like in the 90s, all of political pop art and everything. People
became so like self-involved. It was just a very cynical time, where
like irony was emphasized. Does the environment ever become the
character?

>Do you think right now is the least spiritual generation for China because of these 'Hollywood' influences?

~mmm….no. no no no. I am really liking the direction of Chinese art
today. I think, a lot of Chinese artists have had this same
realization subconsciously. I think people see where human
civilization is heading in all this urbanization, and they are scared.
So I think maybe in reaction to the economic reform of the 90s, and
human self-obsession there was a move from the body as a landscape
(like Xu Zhen's Rainbow 1998) and then now there is a fallback on
nature again.
>At the very beginning of 2000s, Yang Fudong has this picture called, "The First Intellectual" and it says that on this photo of a bloody man in a torn up suit standing in the middle of the road holding a brick. It is a funny picture. But I think it is about a guy who has a realization that there is something fundamentally wrong with human society. It is like a reawakening, as though we had become monkeys in a society again and people are realizing it doesn't have to be this way.

~Yea, I think there are a lot of artists going back to promoting
reverence for nature. I think that is one of the key things askew with
modern human society. Even my art is heavily reflecting this emphasis
on nature, because I am also concerned. My favorite artists I have
seen is a couple: Ji Wenyu and Zhu Weibing. They have a few pieces, do
you know them? ahh I love them. They have this one piece called "Enjoy
Flowers" (2006) where they have these cloth sculpture men with their
hands folded in front of them looking at a tree with pink flowers on
it. It is so sweet and warm. I really feel good looking at it. They
also have another piece where all these businessmen in suits are
holding this big giant pink flowers. And both pieces have no specific
arrangement, they are like dolls of a set.
>mmm, yes I think we are in an idealistic stage right now. ~Harmonious Society~ 大同世界 ～It is a Confucian idea – "big same world." I think a lot of Foreigners think the concept of a harmonious society is funny but, I don't think the Chinese do. Like "Happy Street," the Dutch pavilion at the expo, is supposed to poke fun at the idea of a Harmonious society. But harmony to the Chinese "refers to harmony at every level, from the cosmic world of the two ultimate forces, to the social, interpersonal, and individual biological level of the human body." (57, Dragons of Tiananmen, Jeffrey F. Meyer) It is the idea of utopia. China is trying to figure out how to get there.
~Mm, maybe it is those happy advertisements that people find funny. Or
they find China to be really fucked up. I think people have bad
connotations with the word: "communism" because of the way it is
taught in school. It has such a bad history tied to it. So a
"harmonious communist society," is a funny idea to foreigners. But, I
agree, 'harmony' is not a funny idea. Wait, I think also the reworking
of museology and exhibitioning is part of this idealism. It is really
quite beautiful. Like The Long March, which is, literally a long
walking march of an exhibit, retaking Mao's steps on the Long March.
It is the idea of realizing looking at art doesn't have to be
concentrated into a room, and be a one-way transaction.
>Wait I actually have the curator's notes on that exhibit right here in my folder.
~Oh good, good.
>"The Long March looks to integrate the production, consumption, and interpretation of art in a single scene, three issues which have traditionally remained separate. It looks to overcome the traditional distance between viewer and creator, to close the gap between "host" and "guest," and to seek a new understanding of space. In this way, The Long March will merge exhibition with creation and allow consumption and production to interact."

~Mm mm, also like at Double Infinity they wanted to encourage you to
play with a museum collection, in order to backlash against that
"usually untouchable" feeling at museums. But it's weird because when
I went back to Double Infinity a few weeks later, that parking rug
that they said we could walk over was off limits. And the security
guard would point to the floor and be like, "do you see what you just
did?"

>People are still so used to the conventional model. So..if we were to look at right now like a story, what point would be at right now?

~I don't know, I think I might be a little too optimistic. I think
this time represents an ideological shift. People are rerealizing
themselves as nature again. I hope I hope anyway. I think the expo, to
my very pleasant surprise is trying to show to the world this
classically Chinese concept of harmony between man and nature. There
is a statue in front of the Chinese Pavilion called "Never Ending
Life" bye Yang Jian Ping. JJ is friends with her he said, and he told
us to note the sizes of the animals and the leaves and humans. They
are all the same. I think this is so important! I hope it is important
anyway!! It makes me happy!
>Do you think it is only represented in art or is it moving to the mainstream? How will people get this concept if it is only in the art?

~Mmm, again I think I am quite optimistic. Even if it was just the
West looking upon Chinese Contemporary Art, then the West will learn
this concept, and that is where it is especially lacking. Also, I mean
Avatar did extremely well worldwide, especially in China. This idea is
the main feature of the movie: reverence for nature and the human
body, harmony. And doesn't that mean that this idea is starting to
move into the mainstream? I think it is, I think it is, I hope it is!!

>Haha, that would be quite wonderful, indeed.

~Wait…before we part, I just want to tell you a dream I had about Ai
Weiwei. It is funny: The first thing I remember is that he lifts this
smashed automobile with panda pictures onto a tow truck with his bear
hands and shear strength. I looked over at him and he had dyed his
beard bright red. He was looking back at this old man, who he had
appeared to be helping. The truck drove away and the pieces he just
threw on began tilting off the tow truck, so I started running after
it yelling back to Ai Wei Wei, ahh look!! Ahh!! Ai Wei Wei started
running after it too, looking back at the old man laughing. I
understood that this is what they wanted, to destroy these pieces. I
stopped running and a dog came toward me and I started giving it
kisses, and Ai Wei Wei with his red beard told me "Don't eat him!"
haha that's the end of the dream.

Self-interview by Alexa Haas.

Lisa Lim is an alter-ego whose name is formed by: Alexa>Lessa> Lisa
(this is what my martial arts teacher called me) and Lim, her mother's
maiden name

Inspired by
Transexperiences

A conversation between

Chen Zhen and Zhu Xian

Ishmael, David Quinn

History in the Making:Shanghai 1979 – 2009

History in the Making:

Shanghai 1979 – 2009
September 10th - October 10th , 2009
(10:30 to 19:00 every day)

Opening reception: September 9th 2009, 19:30

Curator: Biljana Ciric
Venue:
Ju Men road 436 (near Xie Tu road)
Information: biljana.ciric@gmail.com

Participanting artists:
"BEIHEI MENG" Photography Association, Birdhead, Chen Juyuan, Chen Yanyin, Ding Yi, Gong Jianqing, Gu Lei, He Yang, Hu Jianping, Hu Jieming, Huang Kui, Jin Feng (Xiao), Jin Feng+Su Chang, Jin Shan, Li Mu, Li Pinghu, Li Shan, Liang Yue, Liu Jianhua, Lu Chunsheng, M Group, Mian Mian, Ni Jun, Ni Weihua, Qian Weikang, Qiu Anxiong, Qiu Deshu, Shen Fan, Shi Yong, Song Tao, Sun Liang, Tang Guangming, Tang Maohong, Xiang Liqing, Xu Zhen, Yang Fudong, Yang Hui, Yang Xu, Yang Zhenzhong, Yu Youhan, Zhang Ding, Zhang Enli, Zhang Jianjun, Zhang Long, Zhang Pingjie, Zhang Xin, Zhou Xiaohu, Zhou Zixi

Curatorial Concept:

As highly active and experimental, artist groups in Shanghai have long played an important role in the shaping of the contemporary art world in China. History in the Making: Shanghai 1979 – 2009 intends to trace an all-encompassing overview of the Shanghai contemporary art scene since 1979 through to the present.

This exhibition is not only an overview of the Shanghai contemporary art scene, but also the first time that several generations of characteristic artists from Shanghai (including different age groups, different artistic approaches) have been brought together in the form of an exhibition. In this way, the exhibition also is an accumulation of the city's cultural growth and current status through the perspectives and attitudes of nearly 50 artists and cultural practitioners who have contributed to the urban culture of Shanghai.

The exhibition would sort through and explore the multiple layers of the social and cultural fabric of Shanghai, taking note of several important clues:

• First, the exhibition will reflect upon the cultural background of Shanghai: from 1979 through to the present, how have the historical trends of the Shanghai contemporary art scene, within a larger cultural perspective, influenced the individual reflections of the practitioners?

• The exhibition will also reflect upon the use and adaptation of different artistic languages during three decades

• Finally, the exhibition will reflect upon the various styles of presentation developed over the years: this exhibition has consciously avoided the typical mode of presentation for an overview of this scope. The placement and curation of the works by the artists on show will be decided after discussions between the artists and the curator, taking into account the current status of the different artists.

The presentation of the individual artists will be informed by the following considerations:

• The important turning points in an artist's career

• Certain installations from the early 90s will be reproduced, since few have been preserved to this day

• The accepted creative style of years past will be adopted as a starting point to create new artworks that reference also the contemporary attitude, using the realities of the present day as the materials for creation.

This exhibition is the work of curator Biljana Ciric, who has been actively collecting the many historical documents from Shanghai contemporary art exhibitions over the years and interviewing over 30 artists so far.

The exhibition hopes to reveal to the great extent that Shanghai contemporary art groups have contributed to the development of contemporary art nationwide, while detailing the individual processes of development and creative clues that are visible in the presentation of the various materials and works. In recognition of the artistic strength it requires to operate at this scale of activity, it is important to note that numerous local arts institutions, such as the Shanghai Zendai Museum of Modern Art and the Ke Center for Contemporary Art, Shanghart have provided supported to the exhibition.

“Interdisciplinarity”: A new mode of discourse and its relations/effects on film by Xiaoxia Zhuang

Xiaoxia Zhuang

June 4, 2009

Contemporary Art and New Media

"Interdisciplinarity": A new mode of discourse and its relations/
effects on film.

The concept of "interdisciplinarity" has seen precipitous growth and
potential in the past few years as a contemporary force that
inevitably comes from the whirlwind conglomeration of an ever-evolving
society. With the rise of technology, transportation, and
communication becoming more available to global consumers, the lines
bordering once-insular and self-contained fields (i.e. film, painting,
music, etc.) are quickly being blurred, and in some instances,
completely erased. This is globalization, plain and simple. And its
effects on the concept of "interdisciplinarity" has consequences that
are incredibly multi-faceted and since we are still undergoing the
ramifications of its development, the only thing that one can do is to
speculate as to its current (and future) effects on society.

However, this is to say that it does have an effect, and though it
would be impossible to have an objective, "outsider's" perspective
concerning this global phenomenon (since one lives within the
globalized world and theoretically, cannot step outside this
perspective to analyze it), one must critically think about this vital
juncture in contemporary society. One of the keystones of
"interdisciplinarity" is that within its specified model of fluidity
and malleability, the old guard is being replaced by the vanguard, and
this vanguard is leading the helm of experimenting with and changing
the definitions of what was staid and stale.

In terms of its relation to the contemporary Chinese artscape, the
concept of "interdisciplinarity" is key to understanding the forces
that are currently at work in key artistic and creative realms.
Artists who once primarily worked in painting are now exploring
different avenues of what can be considered "art", for example,
exploring the implications and impact of new media with video
installations, or utilizing (and perhaps, harnessing) the far-reaching
spans of the internet to garner buzz for impromptu warehouse
gatherings, etc. The term "artists" is in constant flux—not defined
as a point on a linear spectrum, but as an indefinable fuzz in a large
cloud of interacting forces—and with it, the idea of
"interdisciplinarity" takes hold, as the term seeks to change the
range of those who fit under the category of "artist". It seems that
as the term "interdisciplinarity" takes a stronger foothold on
society, cultural producers in the field of contemporary art expand to
include musicians, writers, technicians, and others who once might not
have been considered an aspect of contemporary art.

In addition, "interdisciplinarity" has inviolably altered the mode of
discourse concerning the way one talks about globalization and
contemporary art (both those two subjects by themselves, and also, how
they are inter-related). Previously, contemporary art was led by the
individual (the curator, the artist, et al.), but as both the mode of
production and the mode of consumption have changed in light of our
increasingly inter-connected world, discourse has moved to include a
much broader base, generates discussion on a more massive scale, and
moves the discussion from being solely defined in galleries and museums.

One arena in which "interdisciplinarity" has been slow to work its
effects into is cinema, as I believe that the lines between cinematic
"movies" and cinematic "art" has still not begun blurring (not just in
China, but in the world). There is a definite disjunction between
what I have just termed "cinematic 'movies'" versus what I believe to
be "cinematic 'art'" and that comes from several different avenues—
from its mode of production, authorship, audience, content, economic
potential, its (formal) cinematic structure, etc. There are certain
audience expectations when it comes to watching a movie and that is to
be entertained, to have the movie be an "escape" and to get enraptured
in the movie's diegesis. For those on the producing-end of movies,
the movie's economic potential is at stake and this guards much of the
discourse surrounding how film is discussed (and of course, I say this
almost exclusively from being breed from an American film-going
background, but years of being brought up in a household where Chinese
film was watched and academic background in the study of Chinese film
have helped me bridge out of a solely American point of view).
Merchandising tie-in's, domestic box-office gross, opening weekend
ticket sales—these terms guide much of the understanding that many
people have with movies. With cinematic "art" however, the
expectations (from both the producers and consumers) are drastically
different than they are for cinematic "movies". The modes of
production, the author(s) and audience base(s) are typically
different, and the viewing locations are on-the-whole, different.

Therefore, cinematic "art" already carries with it preconceived
stereotypes, which thankfully, "interdisciplinarity" and fusion of
fields have begun to dissolve and transcend. However, the question
now concerns why cinematic "art" has been unable (thus far) to evolve
to a level where it is not only economically sustainable, but
economically viable as well. For me, I think the aforementioned
preconceived notions concerning cinematic "art" (such as where its
exhibited and the specific types of consumers that it is geared
towards) hinder its widespread-ness (though of course, there is also
the question of whether or not the producers/consumers of cinematic
"art" want to encourage and promote these works for a widespread
audience). Rather than confining this fusion of film and art strictly
to the gallery setting, it is important to understand the place in
which a film is shown is a very key component of how one responds to
film.

And of course in China, censorship plays a big factor in the film
industry. Films have to be submitted to the State Administration of
Radio, Film, and Television (SARFT) and only once it passes with the
approval of SARFT can it be shown in Chinese theaters. Otherwise, it
becomes relegated to distribution through illegal DVDs. For the film
directors working within these confines, the whole process at times
annoying, but it has become a part of their creative and directorial
processes. For example, Shanghainese director Lou Ye who has directed
Suzhou River (2000) and the film that has gotten him banned from
making films in China for five years, Summer Palace (2006) has said
that he has slowly come to accept this process:

When the official document was handed down to me, stating that I was
not permitted to make films for three years [after Suzhou River],
therefore, I didn't feel shocked at all. Why? First, it was nothing
new to me. My first film was banned for two years...Ten years ago, I
did not have such an understanding. I was angry and irritated [about
my first film being banned]. Now I am able to remain calm." (Sun and
Li, 74)

Though directors like Lou Ye have slowly accepted the situation,
perhaps this tie-in and association with the Film Bureau is what
creates the imaginary fence between directors of cinematic "film" and
those who produce cinematic "art". Nevertheless, the concept of
censorship is at stake, and for Lou Ye, artistic censorship is always
wrapped up in political, economic, and social developments. (Sun and
Li, 74).

In terms of how to address issues plaguing the confinement of what I
have termed "cinematic 'art'" to a strictly gallery-type setting, I
believe that a fusing of the contemporary Chinese cinema and art
worlds (the "interdisciplinarity" of these two fields, if you will) is
plausible, but depends on the relaxation of attitudes towards these
fields from not only the government censors, but also, from the
producers and audiences. So to have cinematic "art" evolve into what
this essay prompt deems as an "open platform that offers a viable
alternative to the existing museum and gallery system", the primary
change would be ideological. Cinematic "movies'" mass audience have
to be open to watching movies that might challenge his or her
preconceived notions of what a film is, which is to say, the audience
has to abandon his or her previous notions (if any) of a film's
formulaic-ness (familiarization with the typical camera angles, film
pace, genre conventions, etc.). And conversely, the cinematic "art's"
audience should recognize that even if a film does follow formulaic-
ness and what he or she deems as following in the "mainstream" vein,
the film's function as art should not be discarded. On both ends of
the spectrum, the primary audiences for both cinematic "movies" and
cinematic "arts" should depart with negative connotations associated
with the other end of the spectrum (i.e. art-film goers should not
view movie-goers as those with "mainstream"/common tastes, and movie-
goers should not view art-film goers as those who enjoy viewing art-
films just so they can relish in the fact that they are consuming
"high culture"). The expectations of both audiences concerning
cinematic "art" versus cinematic "movies" also have to change, most
notably, the idea that movies are strictly entertainment versus the
idea that art is strictly set to function as an intellectual/creative
output devoid of entertainment value.

A democratization of contemporary Chinese art must also occur for an
ideological reform to occur. As many students (including me) have
mentioned several times throughout the course of the semester,
contemporary Chinese art (unfortunately) seems to be fixated upon
itself as an insular entity. There is a socioeconomic exclusivity
that comes from being a producer, consumer, and overall participant in
these circles and though there have been several notable and
commendable instances of expanding and integrating contemporary art
into Chinese society (most visibly, the "Intrude: Art & Life 366"
exhibit at the Zendai MOMA), this simply is not enough. Though the
exhibit at the Zendai MOMA was a forward-thinking move towards the
acceptance of contemporary art by the Chinese public and conversely,
was also a forward-thinking move towards the art world's recognition
that their works do have a powerful and necessary space within the
public realm. Of course, this is much easier said than done.

Moving away from this need for ideological change, practical
implementations must also occur for cinematic "art" to bridge itself
from a strictly gallery/museum system. To welcome a wider audience
for cinematic "art", the presentation of it should be one of the first
changes to occur. No, this is not to say that Bill Viola or Yang
Fudong should be exhibited in a large megaplex-like setting, but
museums and galleries should be more accessible to cinema-going
audiences. The most pragmatic change in presentation would be to have
galleries and museums invest in a screening room, that way, the
viewing of these works of video art/film can be enjoyed as if it were
the same as a cinematic "movie". Otherwise, standing around a flat
television screen that is fixed on a blank white wall can be not only
tiresome, but daunting for certain audiences. The subject matter of
many of these works (assuming there is a subject matter in certain
works) might not fit within the common understandings of film that the
average film-goer has, so in order to change conceptions of what
constitutes "film", an easing-in of those unfamiliar with film/video
art is needed, and the most drastic and simple measure is to change
the presentation of these works. These films might not follow
familiar narrative formats and/or genre conventions, so naturally,
given human beings' nature/propensity to understand through narrative
discourse, they might be difficult to digest and comprehend. However,
one needs to promote these works as viable commodities that have the
ability to not only function as intellectual/creative outputs, but as
well as entertainment.

Yang Fudong is an artist whose presence in the contemporary Chinese
art scene heralds the intertwining of art and film. Born in Beijing
in 1971[1], Yang Fudong currently lives and produces his works in
Shanghai[2]. Most recently, his newest works are being exhibited at
Shanghai's Zendai MOMA in an exhibition called "Dawn Mist, Separation
Faith". As a showcase of his recent works, the exhibition itself
focused on a long, rectangular table upon which was projected a place-
setting for a dinner and above which was hung flat screens exhibiting
Yang Fudong's other works. These flat screens were also hung around
the walls, bombarding the gallery-goer with an overflow of visuals.
It took awhile to situate myself within the exhibition because it was
difficult to focus on one work while a different work was being played
not too far away on another screen. Perhaps this was part of either
Yang Fudong or the curator's objective—to make some sort of statement
on the overflow of technology and media that the average consumer
faces in today's ever-expanding mediascape—but for me, this detracted
from focusing on Yang Fudong's works by themselves. And in addition,
the previous point I had raised about standing around a screen (and
sometimes craning my neck for extended periods of time to watch some
of them) was completely realized as I stood in front of the screen,
trying to focus on the visuals in front of me, while the distractions
hammered away at my patience. This, of course, is not to say that
Yang Fudong's work was not interesting—it was—but the exhibition of
these works deserves attention to find a way that better suit the
audience's viewing of them. A healthy marriage between what the
artist and curator want for these works and what way the works can
best be exhibited for a viewing audience needs to be configured.

However, despite these hesitations concerning the presentation of Yang
Fudong's latest works at the Zendai MOMA, I still found his work as an
auteur and artist to be incredible, which was why I was inspired to
find more information about his "The Seven Intellectuals in Bamboo
Forest". Presented for the 50th Venice Biennale, this was the first
in his five-part series called "The Seven Intellectuals", which is
based off of "The Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove", a set of well-
known and traditional Chinese stories[3]. Drawing inspiration from
Chinese film canon including Fei Mu's Spring in a Small Town (1948)
and Yuan Muzhi's Street Angel (1937)[4], Yang Fudong pays homage to
his predecessors in Chinese film, but builds upon them as he uses his
films to explore the contemporary issues plaguing China.

I recently spoke to my film professor here at NYU Shanghai, Dr. Shaoyi
Sun, about his thoughts concerning the conflux of film and art.
Professor Sun is academically focused and concerned about film, which
is why he admittedly did not want to give concrete and definitive
thoughts concerning how film fits within the contemporary art world.
However, his responses to me did echo sentiments and ideas that I
already have in my own response to the question of why film and art
are crossing and dissolving borders. Namely, forces of globalization
and media convergence were what we had discussed, with special
emphasis placed on media convergence as the key impetus driving the
blurring of the lines between art and film. Right now, in an rapidly
growing technological age of social-networking sites, user-generated
content, and in general, with the electronic/digital world
proliferating at an almost exponentially-increasing speed, the use of
film as an artistic medium is a natural evolution of both the fields
of contemporary art, but also, cinema as well.

Another point of discussion was a focus on censorship, which of course
for China, is a key issue regarding the exhibition of both art and
cinematic works. Professor Sun pointed me to his book of interviews
that he conducted with several well-known "Sixth Generation" authors
concerning their views on working within the confines of censorship
and referring back to director Lou Ye, Lou remarked:

"I don't think film censorship is simply a film-related issue.
Therefore, you cannot just accuse the Film Bureau. It is only part of
a larger issue. The current mechanism of film censorship is actually
a partial reflection of today's political system and economic
environment. If our environment continues to improve, or, if our
political system becomes more liberal, film censorship will naturally
disappear and be relegated to history. The fate of film censorship,
therefore, is closely connected to the political, social, and economic
development of a nation." (Sun and Li, 74)
These sentiments ring completely true to several issues that I have
raised, as it includes the necessary call for contextualization why
censorship exists and its effects on cinema. What Lou Ye said about
films naturally fits in with discussion of censorship within
contemporary art.

In terms of the development of the new fusion of cinema as art, and
vice versa, I believe that Yang Fudong is a necessary step in the
right direction in blurring the distinctions between what one can call
"art" and what one calls "cinema", and his solo exhibition at the
Zendai MOMA is proof that cinematic "art" is on its way to being
legitimized and recognized as a form of cinema that fits rightfully
with other filmmakers, such as Jia Zhangke, Fellini, Martin Scorsese,
or mainstream favorites like Steven Spielberg or Danny Boyle. China
does have a prominent film journal, called simply China Film Journal,
but a quick search within its website found no mentions of Yang
Fudong. However, in the requisite contemporary art publications like
Yishu, ArtForum, et al., Yang Fudong's films have garnered mentions
and analysis. While the idea of "cinematic 'art'" may not have found
itself within film publications, its presence as "art" is solidified,
but Yang Fudong is still absent from being a fixture on the
contemporary Chinese "cinematic 'movies'" realm. However, with the
trend of converging media forms and the blurring of lines between what
one knows as "art" versus what one knows as "cinema", Yang Fudong will
be a fixture in both the art and film worlds—bridging them together.

Works Cited:

China Film Journal: www.chinafilmjournal.com

Yang Fudong on Artnet: http://www.artnet.com/artist/6591/yang-fudong.html

Obrist, Hans-Ulrich. Yang, Fudong. "A Thousand Words: Yang Fudong
talks about the Seven Intellectuals". ArtForum, September 2003.

Sun, Shaoyi. Xun, Li. Chapter Three: "'Dancing with the Shackles:' The
(Un)censored Voices of the 'Sixth Generation'". Lights! Camera! Kai
Shi!: In Depth Interviews with China's New Generation of Movie
Directors.

[1] Obrist, Hans-Ulrich, "A Thousand Words: Yang Fudong talks about
The Seven Intellectuals".

[2] http://www.artnet.com/artist/6591/yang-fudong.html

[3] Obrist, Hans-Ulrich, "A Thousand Words: Yang Fudong talks about
The Seven Intellectuals".

[4] Ibid.

PRIMAL SCREAM

PRIMAL SCREAM: AN ONLINE EXHIBITION PROPOSAL 

GRIFFIN FRAZEN, JOSEPH GERGEL, ODILE LIU 

A history of art follows a history of an exclusionary audience. Art reception was historically catered to only those patrons who could afford it. It is no surprise that many people today liken an art museum to that of a church. In many cases, the museum's purpose was to legitimize a certain version of history that spoke to the cultural values of the elite. Today, museums and non-profit institutions attempt to shed this former reputation and try to appeal to a mass audience, with a goal first and foremost to educate. But if this is truly the goal, then we must ask what methods of presentation would be most effective in our increasingly technological world.

The Internet is a medium that has the potential for a truly mass audience.  We propose a new exhibition format that can utilize the existing channels of information on the Internet, but collectively add to it to produce the critical message that Internet information lacks. There is a plethora of information on the Internet about contemporary art, yet often the information is spread thinly in many places. There is also a need for curatorial direction on the Internet, where in many cases the information only amounts to blog post or images, without significant discussion to the meaning of works or their relative importance in a cultural dialogue. An online exhibition would be able to transcend the exclusionary confines of the gallery or museum space and meet the visitor on their own terms. It would be able to provide a database of existing information about the artist and work, as well as attempt to engage these works more critically and as a group. It also has the ability to garner audience participation and feedback, which is something that the spectatorship of the gallery space lacks. We propose the online exhibition as the new way to engage an art audience and see its potential for fostering the kind of dialogue that the modern museum attempts but fails.

CURATORIAL CONCEPT 

Any attempt to examine the critical implications of contemporary Chinese art today takes at its starting point the modernization that is changing the cultural landscape at an unprecedented pace. But while China's curatorial theme du jour expresses China's entry into a period of modernity, it does not take in to account the unique instance where a culture simultaneously experiences the beginnings of post-modernity. At the same time that a faith in science, technology, and progress is shaping the direction of China's future, a generation of artists are already lamenting the psychological and sociological effects of such a dilemma. China is still very much a developing nation, yet the level of critical engagement with this era of development follows more in the pattern of post-industrial societies. At the forefront of artistic discourse in China today are conflicts with the increasing virtualization in every aspect of society, of the effects of mass media and consumerism, and the anxieties of development and an almost post-apocalyptic sensibility. As Shanghai prepares its 2010 World Expo "Better City, Better Life", the artists in "Primal Scream" call into question the very definition of what a "better" city would be. The term "Primal Scream" derives from a form of psychological therapy that is thought to treat emotional problems by encouraging patients to relive traumatic experiencing through screaming or other acts of aggression. In a world where cultural forces are attacking the notion of autonomous selfhood, these artists are trying to assert their existence. Whether with a sense of desperation or of irony, "Primal Scream" asks what direction China is heading and where the individual is to stand facing such a predicament. 

Artists: Zhang Peili, Yang Fudong, Shen Shaomin, Hong Hao, Zhai Liang, Birdhead, Cao Fei, Yi Zhou, Xu Zhen, Yang Yongliang

LIST OF WORKS 

1. Zhang Peili, Undefined Pleasure, 1996, video

The abundance of information and convenience of mass communication in a post-modern world has satiated human's thirst for knowledge. However, do people in modern society always know for certain the accurate meaning of the content presented? Zhang Peili's artworks toys with the idea of uncertainty through the manipulation of time and the repetition of a single motion. Is the scratching in Uncertain Pleasure meant to be a way of relieving uneasiness and anxiety or is it meant to offer the person a tiny sensation of pleasure?  

2. Yang Fudong, East of Que Village, 2007, video installation

Yang Fudong’s six-channel video installation, East of Que Village, focuses on the lives of several stray dogs scrounging for food and fighting for survival in desolate rural China. The artist uses the dogs (which he adopted from various places for the film) to present a bleak depiction of contemporary China and the feelings of loneliness and isolation he associates with his childhood. The piece questions the purpose of existence—if any—in Chinese society. Using a poetic reference to symbolize a larger cultural sentiment, the film installation speaks to the fragmentation of modern experience. The film is beautifully shot, yet with six screens there is an overload of visual information. Contrasting with the cinematic quality of the footage is the pessimistic message of cultural progress. There seems to be no hope in a sense of community. These dogs are all out for themselves, and that proves to be a very alienating kind of existence.

 

3. Shen Shaomin, Bonsai, 2007, sculptural installation

Shen Shaomin presents a simple yet explicit critique of man's attempt to dominate nature. Both elegant and disturbing, Bonzai comments on China's hasty urban development while also suggesting a more ecological approach to intervening with the natural world. Delicate bonzai trees in traditional Chinese porcelain are harnessed by crude contraptions consisting of vices, screws, and wires. These rigs resembling torture devices, force the branches to twist and contort in unusual ways as they grow. Recent natural disasters have once again reminded us that nature is a force to be reckoned with. As urban centers continue to grow all across the world, it is important for us to remember our relationship with the earth. Man is only part of larger systems, and the part can never control the whole. Shen Shaomin shows us the it is possible to facilitate the growth of the environment without damaging it.

 

4. Hong Hao, Mr. Hong Please Come In, 1998, photograph with text

Developed cities and modernized societies pride itself in its material accumulation and capitalistic endeavors. Hong Hao presents here the Chinese version of the "American Dream". This one shot captures the new Chinese generation's notion of the "perfect life", attaining success and thriving in newly acquired material status. It resonate the Europeans' colonial ambitions. Yet, what lies beneath and where does one go after attaining this success? The dog here poses like a trophy and the artist's figure poses with pride, but there seems to be no intimate relation between the man and the dog. In a society of abundance, has material comfort replaced the intimacy of relationships?

 

5. Zhai Liang, Is Death An Entertainment? 2007, oil on canvas

Zhai Liang's Is Death an Entertainment? looks at the notion of spectatorship in contemporary society. In the image, a group of people gathers around a pedestal in an ambiguous setting that resembles an art gallery. While the audience stares, blood streams from the pedestal. The piece could call in to question how we view violence and images of suffering in a blasé way on a daily basis. Image of war come into our living rooms each night, flashing so fast that it does not even give us time to emotionally react. Our emotional senses have dulled by living in such an image savvy world. If every photograph is to depersonalize its subject, then how are we to react?

 

6. Birdhead, Suitcase-1, 2005, suitcase with circa 30 unique photographs, framed

The modern man and woman live in an environment of constant information and data bombardment. There are an abundance of activities in our surroundings yet limited time for us to intake each activity. Birdhead's piece here seems to offer a poetic solution to this modern dilemma. Why don't we categorize all the information being fed to us and file it into a suitcase?

 

7. Zhao Bandi, Bandi Fashion Show, 2007, video

Zhao Bandi is obsessed with pandas. Zhao graduated from the oil panting department at the Central Academy of Fine Arts but quickly transitioned to installation and performance work, adopting the panda as icon and content. Zhao Bandi gained media attention after protesting Jack Black’s Hollywood Blockbuster “Kung Foo Panda”, suing Dreamworks and Paramount Pictures for their depiction of the panda in the movie. More recently, he has created a panda themed fashion show, where a varied group of migrant workers, prostitutes, fashion fans, and beggars all walk the catwalk in Panda-inspired attire. The diverse group was meant to represent 33 different social classes within China. The result is a complete mockery of both the fashion and the art industry, but that is exactly the point. Zhao Bandi takes a seemingly arbitrary symbol of China, the panda, and uses it incessantly in an exaggerated manner. He can then apply this exaggeration to the fashion and art industries and show the absurdity of the current mannerist stage of consumerism that China and the rest of the world are a part of. In each costume, the model’s respective identity is articulated by subtle references in their outfit. In this way, Zhao Bandi speaks to the way we understand ourselves in our contemporary society, as necessary to externalize our personality through the language of consumer culture.

 

8. Cao Fei, iMirror, 2007, video

In her 2007 documentary iMirror, Cao Fei adopts the persona of "China Tracy" on Second Life and follows a journey through the fictional "RMB City". Along the way, she meets other avatars that are on a similar journey, which ultimately culminates in a video that provides sincere philosophical discussions about the nature of virtualization in our computer age. With Second Life, there is no need for direct human interaction. It is a different sensory experience altogether. Avatars can be whoever they want to be, act however they want to act, and do not have to face the consequences of their actions in the real world. Cao Fei shows us how this mode of behavior might prove to explain more about who we really are than one might first imagine. In fact, it is a language that is able to articulate our insecurities and doubts, as well as a vehicle to live out our fantasies and dreams. iMirror questions the state of social relationships today. Is the Second Life persona a representation of our increasing alienation or does it signify a new form of social interaction?

 

9. Yi Zhou, One of These Days, 2005, video and 3-D animation

One Of These Days, a large screen video animation by Yi Zhou, comments on the impermanence of todays world. The artist worked with a group of architects to build a computer model of an imaginary city from one of her vivid dreams. The video depicts the desolate metropolis being destroyed. Windows shatter and buildings crumble to an orchestral score, as the camera slowly pulls back. Although the city in One Of These Days is fictional, is resembles any modern city and reminds viewers that one day everything will disappear. This uncomfortable reality is particularly relevant to China. The rapid pace of urban growth has in some cases rendered local resident unable to recognize their own city. China's delight in destroying its own heritage stems from its eagerness to modernize. Individuals feel detached from their environment and thus isolated from reality. Not dissimilar to the impersonal virtual city portrayed in One Of These Days.

 

10. Xu Zhen, Shouting, 1998, video

In his 1998 Shouting video, Xu Zhen and a group of friends film themselves shouting in pubic spaces within Shanghai. The gesture could be seen as a desperate attempt at asserting existence. As they film the crowd before they shout, the viewer feels the fast-paced movement of the city. It is the characteristic notion of the modern city: a crowd in constant flux, without engaging or acknowledging one another. The act of shouting temporally disrupts this pattern, forcing the crowd to turn their attention to the camera. But this moment is fleeting, and the artist is once again forced into a position of anonymity. Shouting is essentially an act of desperation. It is the act of pinching yourself to make sure you are still alive. While the artist is successful at a temporary intervention, we are left to ponder how it is possible to make a greater impact than a momentary response.

 

11. Yang Yongliang, Untitled 2, 2008, pigment ink on Epson Fine Art Paper

Where does civilization go now that it has attained such technological advancement and industrial accomplishments? What do we do with the problems created by these modern achievements and how do we get rid of them?

 

The Chinese Art Explosion

The Chinese Art Explosion

As works by Chinese artists fetch multimillion-dollar prices, the
international art world is waking to the power of the Asian market.
China has spawned hundreds of new galleries, 1,600 auction houses,
art fairs, and growing numbers of contemporary-art collectors, while
accusations surface that some are engaging in widespread speculation
by Barbara Pollack

The market for Chinese contemporary art has developed at a feverish
pace, becoming the single fastest-growing segment of the
international art market. Since 2004, prices for works by Chinese
contemporary artists have increased by 2,000 percent or more, with
paintings that once sold for under $50,000 now bringing sums above $1
million. Nowhere has this boom been felt more appreciably than in
China, where it has spawned massive gallery districts, 1,600 auction
houses, and the first generation of Chinese contemporary-art collectors.

This craze for Chinese contemporary art has also given rise to a wave
of criticism. There are charges that Chinese collectors are using
mainland auction houses to boost prices and engage in widespread
speculation, just as if they were trading in stocks or real estate.
Western collectors are also being accused of speculation, by artists
who say they buy works cheap and then sell them for ten times the
original prices—and sometimes more.

Those who entered this market in the past three years found Chinese
contemporary art to be a surefire bet as prices doubled with each
sale. Sotheby's first New York sale of Asian contemporary art,
dominated by Chinese artists, brought a total of $13 million in March
2006; the same sale this past March garnered $23 million, and
Sotheby's Hong Kong sale of Chinese contemporary art in April totaled
nearly $34 million. Christie's Hong Kong has had sales of Asian
contemporary art since 2004. Its 2005 sales total of $11 million was
dwarfed by the $40.7 million total from a single evening sale in May
of this year.

These figures, impressive as they are, do not begin to convey the
astounding success at auction of a handful of Chinese artists: Zhang
Xiaogang, Yue Minjun, Cai Guo-Qiang, Liu Xiaodong, and Liu Ye. The
leader this year was Zeng Fanzhi, whose Mask Series No. 6 (1996) sold
for $9.6 million, a record for Chinese contemporary art, at
Christie's Hong Kong in May.

Zhang Xiaogang, who paints large, morose faces reminiscent of family
photographs taken during the Cultural Revolution, has seen his record
rise from $76,000 in 2003, when his oil paintings first appeared at
Christie's Hong Kong, to $2.3 million in November 2006, to $6.1
million in April of this year.

Gunpowder drawings by Cai Guo-Qiang, who was recently given a
retrospective at the Guggenheim Museum in New York, sold for well
below $500,000 in 2006; a suite of 14 works brought $9.5 million last
November.

According to the Art Price Index, Chinese artists took 35 of the top
100 prices for living contemporary artists at auction last year,
rivaling Jeff Koons, Damien Hirst, and a host of Western artists.

"Everybody is looking to the East and to China, and the art market
isn't any different," says Kevin Ching, CEO of Sotheby's Asia.
"Notwithstanding the subprime crisis in the U.S. or the fact that
some of the other financial markets seem jittery, the overall
business community still has great faith in China, bolstered by the
Olympics and the World Expo in Shanghai in 2010."

There are indications, however, that the international market for
Chinese art is beginning to slow. At Sotheby's Asian contemporary-art
sale in March, 20 percent of the lots offered found no buyers, and
even works by top record-setters such as Zhang Xiaogang barely made
their low estimates. "The market is getting mature, so we can't sell
everything anymore," says Xiaoming Zhang, Chinese contemporary-art
specialist at Sotheby's New York. "The collectors have become really
smart and only concentrate on certain artists, certain periods,
certain material."

For their part, Western galleries are eagerly pursuing Chinese
artists, many of whom were unknown just a few years ago. Zeng Fanzhi,
for example, has been signed by Acquavella Galleries in New York, in
a two-year deal that exceeds $20 million, according to a Beijing
gallerist close to the negotiations; William Acquavella declined to
comment. Zhang Xiaogang and Zhang Huan have joined PaceWildenstein,
and Ai Weiwei and Liu Xiaodong showed with Mary Boone last spring.
Almost every major New York gallery has recently signed on a Chinese
artist: Yan Pei Ming at David Zwirner, Xu Zhen at James Cohan, Huang
Yong Ping at Gladstone, Yang Fudong at Marian Goodman, Liu Ye at
Sperone Westwater. Their works are entering private and public
collections that until now have not shown any particular interest in
Asian contemporary art.

"The market hasn't behaved as I anticipated," says New York dealer
Max Protetch, who has been representing artists from China since
1996. "We all anticipated that the Chinese artists would go through
the same critical process that happens with art anywhere else in the
world. I assumed that some artists would fall by the wayside, which
has not been true. They all have become elevated. It seems like an
uncritical market."

One of the key artists buoyed by this success is Zeng Fanzhi, who is
best known for his "Mask" series. Five years ago his works sold for
under $50,000. Today he commands prices on the primary market closer
to $1 million, with major collectors Charles Saatchi and Jose Mugrabi
among his fans. Now preparing for his first solo show at Acquavella
in December, he is considered one of the more serious artists on the
Beijing scene because he works alone, without the horde of assistants
found in most other artists' studios in China. Still, his lifestyle
is typical of that of his equally successful peers. When asked if he
owns a mammoth black Hummer parked outside his studio, he answers,
"No, that's an ugly car. I have a G5 Benz."

This success has blossomed under the watchful eye of the Chinese
government. Movies, television, and news organizations are strictly
censored, but on the whole, the visual arts are not. Despite sporadic
incidents of exhibitions being closed or customs officials seizing
artworks, by and large the government has supported the growth of an
art market and has not interfered with private activity. In the 798
gallery district in Beijing, a Bauhaus-style former munitions complex
that has been transformed into the capital's hottest art center, with
more than 150 galleries, one finds works addressing poverty and other
social problems, official corruption, and new sexual mores. The icons
of the former China—happy workers and peasants and heroic soldiers
raising the red banner—are treated with irony, if at all, by the
artists whose works are on view in these galleries, which are private
venues generally not under the strict control of the Ministry of
Culture.

On the eve of the Olympics, however, the government asked one gallery
to postpone an exhibition until after the games. Considered
unsuitable was "Touch," a show by Ma Baozhong at the Xin Beijing
Gallery of 15 paintings depicting important moments in Chinese
history, including one based on a photograph showing Mao Zedong with
the Dalai Lama and the Panchen Lama in 1954.

The Beijing municipality spent enormous funds to renovate the 798
district before the Olympics, putting in new cobblestone streets and
lining its main thoroughfare with cafés. Shanghai, which has
benefited less from government support, now boasts at least 100
galleries. Local governments throughout the country are establishing
SoHo-style gallery districts to boost tourism.

One person who seems confident about the future of the Chinese market
is Arne Glimcher, founder and president of PaceWildenstein, who
opened a branch of his gallery in Beijing in August. Located in a
22,000-square-foot cement space with soaring ceilings, redesigned at
a cost of $20 million by architect Richard Gluckman, the gallery is
in the center of the 798 district. "We are committed to the art, and
we wanted to open a gallery where our artists are," says Glimcher.
Adding that he normally eschews the "McGallery" trend of setting up
satellite spaces around the world, Glimcher insists that it was
necessary to establish a branch in Beijing because there is "no local
gallery of our caliber" with which Pace could partner. He has,
however, recruited Leng Lin, founder of Beijing Commune, another
gallery operating in 798, to be his director.

Another Western dealer who has taken the China plunge is Arthur
Solway, who recently opened a branch of James Cohan in Shanghai. "I
started coming to China five years ago, and I was fascinated by the
energy," says Solway, who wanted to introduce gallery artists like
Bill Viola, Wim Wenders, and Roxy Paine to Asia but, like Glimcher,
could not find a public museum or private gallery that he considered
professionally qualified to handle such exhibitions. James Cohan
Gallery Shanghai is located on the ground floor of a 1936 Art Deco
structure in the French Concession, a particularly picturesque
section of the city. The building was once occupied by the military,
and red Chinese characters over the front door still exhort, "Let the
spirit of Mao Zedong flourish for 10,000 years."

"From 1966 to 1976, during the Cultural Revolution, people had
nothing, but now there are spas in Shanghai and people drinking
cappuccinos and buying Rolex watches—it's an amazing phenomenon,"
says Solway, who believes it is only a matter of time before these
same newly affluent consumers begin to collect contemporary art.

Chinese collectors—or the hope that there will be Chinese collectors—
are the key draw luring these galleries to Beijing. As recently as
two years ago, few could name even a single Chinese collector of
contemporary art. It was a truism that the Chinese preferred to spend
their money acquiring antiquities and classical works. Since then
several well-known mainland collectors have emerged on the scene.

Most visible is Guan Yi, the suave, well-dressed heir to a chemical-
engineering fortune, who has assembled a museum-quality collection of
more than 500 works. A major lender to the Huang Yong Ping
retrospective organized by the Walker Art Center in Minneapolis in
2005, he regularly entertains museum trustees from all over the
world, who make the pilgrimage to his warehouse on the outskirts of
Beijing. Now he is building his own museum.

Another noted figure is Zhang Lan, head of the South Beauty chain of
Szechuan-style restaurants throughout China; she also has assembled
an enviable collection and displays pieces from it in her chic
establishments. The film actress Zhang Ziyi is representative of a
new class of collectors from the entertainment industry, while Pan
Shiyi and Zhang Xin, chairman and CEO of the mammoth SOHO China real
estate empire, have commissioned projects for their upscale
residential properties.

Two collectors who are cheerleaders for the Beijing art scene are
Yang Bin, an automobile-franchise mogul, and Zhang Rui, a
telecommunications executive who is also the backer of Beijing Art
Now Gallery, which took part in Art Basel in June, one of the first
Beijing galleries to appear at the fair. These two do more than
collect art. They have hosted dinners for potential collectors,
organized tours to Art Basel Miami Beach, and brought friends with
them to sales in London and New York. Zhang Rui, who owns more than
500 works, has lent art to international exhibitions, most notably
the installation Tomorrow, which features four "dead Beatles"
mannequins floating facedown, created by artists Sun Yuan and Peng Yu
for the 2006 Liverpool Biennial, which rejected it.

Zhang is now building an art hotel, featuring specially commissioned
works and artist-designed rooms, outside the Workers' Stadium in the
center of Beijing. "I am trying to think of ways of changing my
private collection into a public collection," Zhang explained to
ARTnews through a translator. It isn't financially advantageous to do
this in China, as no tax benefits accrue from donations to museums or
other nonprofit institutions.

Zhang Rui represents the handful of Chinese collectors who are public
about their activities and are building noteworthy collections. Far
more typical of buying activity in China is the rampant speculation
taking place in the mainland auction houses. There are 1,600
registered auctioneers, and their sales attract hundreds of bidders.
Chinese buyers are more comfortable with auction houses, which have
been in business since 1994, than with galleries, which weren't
licensed to operate by the government until the late 1990s.

These auction houses run by their own rules, generating what
sometimes seems like a "wild, wild East" atmosphere. It is, for
example, fairly common for a house to get consignments directly from
artists, who then use the sales to establish prices for their works
on the primary market. More often, now that China has hundreds of
galleries, dealers come to a sale with buyers in tow, publicly
bidding up works to establish "record prices" and advertise their
artists. This kind of bidding ring would be considered illegal in the
United States, but in China it is viewed as a savvy business
practice. There is little regulation of auction houses and few
developed legal norms in the field, so that even when buyers have
grievances—with fakes and forgeries, for example—they do not feel
they can resort to the law. Bidding is a social as well as a business
activity, and buyers are happy to flaunt their status by paying
record prices or quickly flipping artworks, not only for profit but
so they can boast of their short-term gains.

As the domestic market for contemporary art matures, however, many of
these practices are coming into question. "Two years ago it was more
necessary for me to bring my artists to auction," says Fang Fang,
owner of Star Gallery in Beijing, which specializes in young emerging
artists such as Chen Ke and Gao Yu. "Now that the gallery market has
increased, I find it is better to keep my artists out of the auction
rooms, and there is much less reason to sell there."

Two mainland firms, Beijing Poly International Auction Company, and
China Guardian Auctions Company, dominate the field of contemporary
Chinese art. Their combined 2007 total of more than $200 million in
sales represented nearly two-thirds of all auction sales in this
category in mainland China for the year. Last spring Guardian
achieved $142 million in sales of classical artworks, furniture,
ceramics, silver, and coins, and $40 million in sales of contemporary
material. The latter figure included the $8.2 million fetched by Liu
Xiaodong's Hotbed No. 1, a record for a painting sold on the
mainland. In a similar range of sales last spring, Poly sold $130
million worth of works, including $27 million in a single evening
contemporary-art sale. (These figures represent a slight decline for
the year because both houses held benefit sales for Szechuan
earthquake victims, raising more than $20 million to support relief
efforts.)

Poly and Guardian reflect two vastly different perspectives on the
domestic market in Chinese contemporary art. Guardian is the oldest
and most respected auction house in China, founded in 1993 by Wang
Yannan, daughter of Zhao Ziyang, the former Communist Party leader
who was placed under house arrest after opposing the government's use
of force against demonstrators at Tiananmen Square in 1989. If Poly
is known for its vast resources and willingness to make deals to nab
consignments, Guardian is known for its respected specialists and
long-term client relationships. For example, when the Museum of Fine
Arts, Boston, decided to sell 20 pieces of Qing dynasty porcelain in
mainland China, it consigned the collection to Guardian.

The atmosphere of a sale at Poly or Guardian is surprisingly similar
to that in the salerooms of Christie's or Sotheby's. The catalogues
are identical in design, and the bidding proceeds in an orderly, even
sedate, fashion, despite the crowds of spectators in the room.

"From our beginning, we studied what the principles of an auction
house should be, and we stick to these principles," says Guardian
president Wang. She also serves on the board of the new nationwide
auctioneers' association, which hopes to enforce regulations on the
auction market.

Poly is an enterprise within the China Poly Group Corporation, a $30
billion conglomerate that is the privatized branch of the People's
Liberation Army. Established initially to repatriate artworks and
antiquities, Poly has spent $100 million buying objects such as the
bronze animal heads from a water-clock fountain that were looted from
Beijing's Summer Palace by British and French troops in 1860; the
pieces later turned up in the West. The repatriated objects are
showcased in the Poly Art Museum in the sparkling New Beijing Poly
Plaza, a glass-enclosed tower designed by Skidmore, Owings & Merrill.

The more freewheeling Poly is known for practices such as putting up
for auction works from its own collection or having consignors
guarantee that they will bring buyers to the sale to meet low
estimates. Still, even here there are signs that the market is
maturing and has become too expensive for casual speculators. "These
collectors that you are talking about are actually quite small
collectors," explains Zhao Xu, senior consultant at Poly. "They
bought for several years at very affordable prices, but now that
prices are skyrocketing, the only way they can afford to buy is to
sell. The collectors that I know already come from a high social
status, and they can afford to buy pieces worth $1 million or $2
million and are looking for the best works, the masterpieces, to add
to their collections."

When asked if Poly follows the rules of the Western auction houses,
Zhao sharply retorts, "Sometimes even Sotheby's doesn't follow the
rules." Or as Gong Jisui, an art-market specialist who is a professor
at the Central Academy of Fine Arts in Beijing, says, "The Chinese
learned this game of speculation from the Westerners who played it
first."

The incident to which both men are referring is the sale of the
Estella Collection at Sotheby's Hong Kong on April 9 of this year.
The event reaped $18 million for 108 works. (An additional 80 works
will be up for sale this month at Sotheby's New York.) The collection
was put together from 2003 to 2006 by New York dealer Michael
Goedhuis for a group of investors that included Sacha Lainovic, a
director of Weight Watchers International, and Raymond Debbane, CEO
of the Invus Group, a private equity firm.

Last year the collection of approximately 200 works was sold to
William Acquavella, who consigned it to Sotheby's. Auction house
officials will not discuss financial details, but Sotheby's had a
stake in the collection. After the sale it was widely reported that
many of the artists were angered by the auction because, they said,
they had sold their works to Goedhuis at discount prices in exchange
for promises that the collection would remain together for public
display.

"The idea was to keep the collection intact and to see it safely into
some institution," says Goedhuis, who denies that any promises were
made. "The ideal situation was to see it with an institution in
China, because there is no such collection." The collection was
published in a book, China Onward, with an essay by leading China
expert Britta Erickson, and it was exhibited at the Louisiana Museum
of Modern Art in Denmark and the Israel Museum in Jerusalem shortly
before the sale. According to Goedhuis, because of the rapid rise in
prices, the investors chose to sell the collection with hopes that it
would not be broken up.

"Since the museums in China aren't mature enough nor are they rich
enough to do an acquisition like this, my hope was that Steve Wynn
would do so for his sophisticated casino complex in Macao," Goedhuis
says. He turned to Acquavella because, he says, he believed the
dealer would bring the collection to Wynn; Acquavella paid a reported
$25 million. Acquavella director Michael Findlay laughs at the
suggestion that there was any indication that the collection would go
to Wynn. "I think this whole thing is surrounded by so much rumor and
speculation," he says. "We bought a group of paintings, and we sold a
group of paintings, and that's the whole story."

According to Maarten ten Holder, Sotheby's managing director for
North and South America, the firm received inquiries before the sale
from several artists in the collection, wondering why the works were
to be auctioned. There is disagreement about whether Goedhuis made
firm promises to keep the collection together or merely made a sales
pitch to artists that inclusion in the collection would enhance their
reputations. Yue Minjun, who had two works in the sale, says no
promises were made. And Goedhuis bought Zeng Fanzhi's Chairman Mao
with Us from Hanart T Z Gallery in 2005 for the asking price,
$30,000, no discount given. It sold for $1.18 million.

"You have to understand that there was no market for this work when I
was buying," says Howard Farber, whose collection brought $20 million
at Phillips de Pury & Company in London last October. Farber
assembled 100 choice works by assiduously visiting artists' studios
in Beijing in the late 1980s, accompanied by the Beijing-based critic
Karen Smith, a leading author and curator in this field. A work for
which he paid $25,000 in 1996, Wang Guangyi's Great Criticism: Coca-
Cola, was sold at Phillips de Pury for $1.6 million. The buyer was
Farber's son-in-law, Larry Warsh, who bid on several works at the
sale, according to newspaper accounts. "I really didn't actually know
I was going to buy the Wang Guangyi until that moment," says Warsh.
"Howard has his collection, and it's not my collection, and there
were many pieces I wanted from that collection that I would have
wanted to buy but couldn't afford."

Many Beijing artists had agreements with Warsh to produce work for
his collection and his art advisory business, which began in 2004,
inspired by Farber's example in the field. "I was enamored by China,
and then I was enamored by the art of China as I learned about
important artists," says Warsh. "But what really hit me first was how
the pricing did not make sense to me at all—everything was out of
whack."

Warsh, who amassed a collection of works by Jean-Michel Basquiat,
Keith Haring, and Kenny Scharf in the late 1980s, was the publisher
of the now-defunct Museums Magazine, which he sold to LTB Media in
2004. He stated at one point that his collection totaled more than
1,200 works; now, he says, he owns approximately 400 paintings and
photographs. Part of his collection is managed by his new business
venture, AW Asia, which has a gallery in Chelsea and intends to
assemble collections of Chinese contemporary art for museums and
major private collectors. The Museum of Modern Art in New York
recently acquired 23 photographs from AW Asia.

With Farber and Warsh circulating in Beijing for a variety of
purposes, it was easy for Chinese artists to become confused about
who was buying for whom and for what purpose. In recent interviews,
several artists—most notably Zhang Xiaogang, who had an agreement
with Warsh—pointed to him as an example of a speculator.

Warsh replies, "While some artists are not so pleased with their
decision to have sold quantities of artwork at what was then their
current values not so long ago, there are many artists who are not
resentful and actually pleased that someone has taken an interest in
their work."

New York dealer Jack Tilton, who has worked with Chinese artists
since 1999, says, "All of these artists are hoping that their work
finds good homes rather than getting churned in the commercial
market. But they have also played a part in this market, embracing
capitalism more than we have, in funny ways. They are not naive about
any of this stuff."

When asked about the artists' reactions to the sale of his
collection, Farber was flabbergasted: "So what? Now I am the bad guy.
That pisses me off!"

A number of major collectors of Chinese contemporary art who have
been in the field for some time are holding on to their collections.
Uli Sigg, Swiss ambassador to China, Mongolia, and North Korea from
1995 to 1998, has built a collection of key works that he has toured
in the exhibition "Mahjong" to museums throughout Europe and, most
recently, the University of California's Berkeley Art Museum
(September 10–January 4). Belgian collectors Guy and Myriam Ullens
have used their resources to establish the first nonprofit
contemporary-art center in Beijing, where they are currently
exhibiting their historic collection. So far, collector Charles
Saatchi has been hanging on to his purchases in preparation for
opening his new gallery in London on the 9th of next month with a
show of Chinese contemporary art; he has also launched a Chinese-
language Web site on which mainland artists can post their works.

In comparison with Western buying, mainland Chinese participation
pales. Though there are many rumors about the power of the new
Chinese buyers, their presence has not been felt in the major auction
houses, where most of the records are being set. "Hong Kong right now
covers the global buyers, especially those from across Asia," says
Eric Chang, Christie's international director of Asian contemporary
art. "I am not really seeing mainland Chinese buyers—less than 10
percent—a drop from around 12 percent." Dealers in China also have
seen few mainland collectors among their regular clients. "I don't
know yet about collectors," says New York dealer Christophe Mao of
Chambers Fine Art, which recently opened a branch in Beijing.

Despite the current shortage of mainland art collectors, China is
emerging as a major art center, having become a hub for buyers from
South Korea, Taiwan, Singapore, Indonesia, and Southeast Asia, and
for overseas Chinese from all over the world. Reflecting this
diversity is the wide range of foreign dealers among the 300
galleries in Beijing, including Continua from Italy, Urs Meile from
Switzerland, Arario and PKM from South Korea, Beijing Tokyo Art
Projects from Japan, and Tang from Indonesia.

"In Beijing it's getting increasingly difficult to talk about the
Chinese market as a separate entity from the broader Asian art market
or the international art market," says Meg Maggio, an American who
came to China in 1988 and ran one of the first galleries in the
country, CourtYard, in Beijing, from 1998 to 2006. Now she has her
own gallery, Pékin Fine Arts, where she represents an international
stable of artists. "How do you describe the market for a Korean
artist showing in China or a Chinese artist living in New York?" she
asks, noting that her business can come from South Korean collectors
visiting Beijing or European companies doing business in China.

One factor in China's development as a center for contemporary art is
the proliferation of art fairs. Beijing has two, the China
International Gallery Exposition and Art Beijing; Shanghai has the
newly created ShContemporary, now in its second year; and Hong Kong
just launched ART HK. CIGE director Wang Yihan says her fair
attracted 40,000 visitors this year, while the more high-toned
ShContemporary brought in 25,000 and ART HK 08 had 19,000. These
numbers may seem small in comparison with the 60,000 who crowd Art
Basel, but dealers believe that the fairs in Asia are worthwhile
because they attract new buyers and make Asian collectors feel more
comfortable about acquiring art from galleries.

"Anywhere else, a fair is just a fair," says Lorenz Helbling of
ShanghART, one of the oldest galleries in China and a participant in
Art Basel. "But in Shanghai a fair feels like so much more because
only there can it make an impact on several million people." He is
referring not only to attendance but to the intensive publicity and
official recognition given to ShContemporary in its inaugural year.

Just a few years ago it would have been impossible to try to sell
contemporary art to Asian buyers, let alone mainland Chinese
collectors, in the public forum of an art fair. Now, with the
astounding success of Chinese contemporary art, collectors from
across the region—and more than a few from the United States and
Europe—are targeting China as a destination. According to Nick
Simunovic, who has opened an office and showroom for Gagosian Gallery
in Hong Kong, it is only a matter of time before these regional
buyers turn their attention to Western contemporary art.

"My sense is that wherever you have tremendous wealth creation, the
collecting cycle goes through three phases," he says. "First, people
collect their cultural patrimony, and then they collect their own
contemporary art. I think the final stage is when they gain a more
globalized contemporary-art approach."

Gagosian first considered opening an office in Shanghai but
encountered obstacles to doing business on the mainland. The most
formidable of these is a 34 percent luxury tax on art, which foreign
galleries that participated in ShContemporary found difficult to
avoid. Hong Kong, by comparison, is a duty-free zone. And Simunovic
found that even Jeff Koons was a tough sell in Shanghai, whereas Hong
Kong offers more possibilities for Western contemporary art. Just a
year ago Hong Kong billionaire Joseph Lau paid $72 million for Andy
Warhol's Green Car Crash (Green Burning Car I). In May Christie's
brought a Warhol portrait of Mao, valued at $120 million and for sale
privately, for viewing in Hong Kong. (At press time it had not yet
been sold.)

"Sure, China is hot, but that's just the peak of the iceberg," says
Lorenzo Rudolf, former director of Art Basel and cofounder of
ShContemporary. "This is not just about a group of Chinese painters.
It's about a growing market going on in this continent."

With the sheer abundance of galleries, auction houses, and art fairs
in China, the larger art world is recognizing the power of the Asian
market. Standing in an auction house in New York or London watching
paintings by Chinese artists sell for millions, one can grouse about
this boom and hint that it will turn out to be a bubble. But
strolling in a bustling gallery district in Beijing, with students
and tourists crowding the cafés and boutiques and filling the huge
art showrooms, few would predict a downturn in the near future.

Barbara Pollack is a contributing editor of ARTnews.

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