Additional Posts by Wesley Auyeung

May 1, 2009

Grassroots Performance

The performance we saw at the Grassroots theater was amazing. I really enjoyed all the different characters that we saw at the performance. I found myself empathizing with many of the characters we saw, and I could relate the characters I could not emphathize with to many of the things I saw in Shanghai.

 One of my favorite characters in the performance was the old man with the red bandana. I did not find out until after the performance that that red band was something that was given to students that performed well academically. Even so, I thought it was interesting how this old man still seemed like such a child despite his scholarly achievement and his age. In a way he reminded me a lot of my own grandfather. Even though my grandfather is not really childish, many of his mannerisms and habits match that of the character in the performance.

The beggar in the beginning reminded me of many of the beggars that I see in the streets of China. It was interesting to see her transformation from a beggar to a mother. At least, I thought that her performance at the end signified that she became a mother. Either way, I thought it was a very interesting twist. I had seen beggars in the streets before, and many of them use their children to manipulate foreigners' feelings to get foreigners to give them money and food.

May 14, 2009

 

Jin Xing – Chinese Ballet

Today we had a guest speaker named Alison Friedman, who was very knowledgeable in the field of ballet, especially in China. We also were able to watch a video about Jin Xing, one of China's most famous ballet performers. Her story was very interesting because she came at a time when China was even more conservative than it is today.

Jin Xing started her dancing career in the People's Liberation Army. She gained high recognition as a dancer in the PLA. After leaving the PLA, she went to New York to build up her career. Even though she was widely known in China as a great, if not the best, dancer, she was virtually a nobody in America. At this point, she had already started cross dressing, but she did not have her sexual reassignment surgery yet.

After she gained more fame in the West, she returned to China and had her sex reassignment surgery. Unfortunately, her left leg was left paralyzed for some time after her surgery, but she gained mobility back. She now teaches in Shanghai and is happily married with three children.

I found Jin Xing's story to be very interesting, especially since she was one of the first few transgender women to be recognized by the Chinese government. I feel that she has opened up many doors for transgender people in China in addition to creating awesome spectacles in dance in both China and the U.S.

May 21, 2009

Contemporary Mediums

Today in class, we learned about Chen Zhen and watched a video of various performances from artists such as aaaJiao. I found the lesson on Chen Zhen very enlightening. His idea of the world as a "bank" of ideas from which artists can deposit and withdraw from was very interesting. In addition, much of his art deals with breaking down traditional Chinese characters to find smaller meanings inside them to make up a bigger meaning of the entire character. I found Chen Zhen's art and ideas very interesting. Even though many of the ideas that Chen Zhen had were similar to some ideas I've had before, I still found his method of using them in his art to be unique. Many of his works convey the idea of him being a global citizen, and he has never been accused of playing the "China card". Ironically, I still believe many of his pieces are deeply rooted in Chinese culture, but it just is not as obvious with him as it is with other contemporary Chinese artists.

 

May 29, 2009

 Blackboard and other exhibits

 was able to visit various exhibits today. The blackboard exhibition was interesting, but I feel that some of the artists defeated the point of the blackboard exhibition. One of the first exhibits in the blackboard exhibition was an artist who had painted his blackboard completely white, and all I could think was "really?", but other than that, many of the pieces were very interesting. I especially liked the pieces where the artist had plants coming out of the board. Personally, I love texture in art, and I thought this was so cool.

I also got to visit the Shanghai Gallery of Art on the Bund today and that was pretty awesome. One piece really stuck out to me here, which was called New Machine by Liang Wei. The piece consisted of two giant adjacent canvases with a simple sketch of a really complicated machine on it. Careful observation of the piece made me notice that there were some imperfections on the piece that led me to think whether or not these imperfections were intentional or just laziness on the artist's part. I gave him the benefit of the doubt and figured that they were intentional. With or without the imperfections and blemishes, the meaning of the piece was pretty clear to me. I felt that the piece was a sketch of Shanghai and its physical development as a city for the past decade or so. The "new machine" was actually the "new shanghai". The relationship between Shanghai and machines is that Shanghai functions much like a machine. It doesn't need rest, it is almost constantly working, and people are always trying to upgrade it, ultimately making Shanghai bigger and better than it was yesterday.

 May 31, 2009

 Interview with Ben Houge

 I met up with Ben Houge today at Abbey Road near the Bund today. It was a pretty awesome interview, and I feel a little guilty calling it an interview since it was more like a conversation. I found out Ben used to work for Sierra, which makes a game called Counter-strike that I used to play religiously back in middle school. I also found out that Ben was a musical composition major in college and had some experience with digital audio but not an extensive background in it. Now, he is mainly a video game music composer with his own little projects on the side. Actually, he is on a break right now to do his own thing, so I'm pretty excited to see what he's coming up with in the near future.

During his interview, he talked about one of his pieces called Kaleidoscope which was featured in Beijing. This piece basically made a kaleidoscope out of both images and sound by positioning cameras and microphones outside of a hexagonal room with filters on both. The images and sounds were projected and played on walls in the hexagonal room to create a kaleidoscope effect. In addition, the filters on the cameras and microphones were fixed in such a way that it created an interesting blend of visuals and audio inside the hexagonal room. There is a more in-depth description of this exhibit in my paper, so I will not go into it too much here.

 I thought his piece was awesome, and I really wanted to see it, but I could not find it on his blog unfortunately. Either way, I had a great time interviewing him, and I learned a lot about digital audio and the video game industry as a whole through my interview. I really want to keep up with Ben through the internet, so hopefully I'll be able to keep up with his blog in the future.

 I really feel like I experienced a lot through the Chinese Contemporary Art Course in Shanghai. I came into the class with a pretty close-minded view of contemporary art in China, but now I feel like I am open to a lot more. I enjoyed going to many of the art exhibits we visited, and I feel cultured now that I have visited them. I probably won't have another chance to visit Shanghai in a long time, so all I can do now is keep up with the Shanghai art scene via the internet.

 

Chinese Peasant Paintings

After visiting the Zhonghong folk painting village outside of Shanghai I couldn’t help but wonder if these peasant paintings could be considered a form of contemporary Chinese art.  Their simplistic style and use of solid colors flattened the images and created an odd sense of perspective that reminded me of avant-garde paintings from the turn of the 20^th Century.  Although these paintings are depictions of daily life and folk culture, they are not painted in a realistic manner and make use of abstraction and patterning in its representational images.  Some of these painting have an interesting play of color and a simple stylized technique that is concurrent with the folk lifestyle.

However, paintings from artist to artist show very little variation.  It seems as though a style was developed and simply appropriated by the whole lot of Chinese peasant painters.  Any degree of creative is only shown through the composition and the scenes the artist chooses to paint.  But even these details are generally very similar from painting to painting.

These artists are working in their own gallery spaces and selling work, but upon visiting a painting village, one will notice that the row of galleries feels as if it belongs to some kind of mocked up theme park, designed to attract tourist.

There is tradition and style to these works, but little innovation and place within the changing times.

    

Bai Yiluo and Movana Chen at the Opposite House hotel in Beijing

Although showing in the lobby of a hotel, which seems odd for a mixed media installation of this type, this body of work was able to demand attention and importance while fittingly incorporating itself with the sleek open design of the atrium.

By using untraditional art materials, such as supermarket catalogue pages and Chinese passport photos, both artists were able to make interesting comments on identity and our compulsive desire to consume.  The Body Container pieces were especially impressive.  By deconstructing the supermarket advertisement pages to resemble coiled metal, Movana Chen was able to build an armored body suit that devours the human bodies’ figure.  In our relentless desire to consume, at the end of the day, it is the product that actually consumes our life.  Bai Yiluo’s Camouflage Jackets express a very similar idea that specifically makes the statement that we are what surround ourselves with. 

     

Sun Xun: Shock of Time

The morning before going to SZ Art Center so see this animation, I was stuck in my hotel room with a broken arm flipping through the channels on my television.  After aimlessly scanning through the same old junk, I came across a channel that was showing old black and white cartoon animations from the 1930’s.  Although the dialogue was in French, and thus hard for me to understand, it was infrequently scattered throughout the animation and of little importance when compared to the drawings.  This old animation was a breath of fresh air.  The rhythm had a strange cadence and the hand of the creator was made obvious and even played upon.  By acknowledging that it was a series of drawings, the cartoon was exciting and unlimited by the restraints or expectations of reality.  Today, too many animations try to fool the viewer into thinking that they are following some kind of created reality with rules and control.

Shock of Time dismissed any sense of rules or reality and acknowledged the fact that it was created by an artist’s hand.  This self-awareness brought forth a strange and intriguing narrative that was open ended and allowed for more viewer involvement.  The style was simple and ghostly and the choice of newspaper background was an interesting investigation of time.

Yu Na and Xu Yong: Solution Scheme

Solution Scheme consists of a series of large color photographs that talk about artist Yu Na’s experience as a prostitute.  Each scene is constructed and show Yu Na as the central figure.  Her gaze is directed towards the viewer, expressing the fact that she is self-aware and in conversation with the external world.  As the piece description describes, Yu Na “holds a button that controls the camera shutter; she is the one with her finger on the button, the one in control of each scene.  Thus is her identity and status transformed from prostitute to artist.”  The personal content and the artist’s desire for control are especially touching and revealing.  This series becomes less about the world of prostitution than about an individuals struggle to find herself.

The space where these pieces are hung is also notable.  The works are at the very end of an old warehouse in the 798 Art District, hung on the top section of a café, that requires the viewer to climb up a set of stairs and duck under a dividing beam to see each individual photo.  The space is inconvenient and out of the way, but inviting to those that dare to take the initiative and dive into its racy content.

“Individual” Show at JoyArt

This exhibition seemed to unite its pieces with the theme of the individual within the massive context of the human race and the increased mechanization of human contact.  Pieces include works such as long strip of white paper that was ripped into pieces of similar sizes and taped back together again, as well as a framed grid intertwined with rubber human figurines, most of which are caught in its system leaving just a few to wander on its edge.

One of the more interesting pieces was an installation titled Widows by Judith Neilson and Wang Zhiyuan.  It consisted of a ring of plastic robotic females, each identical except for the sequence at which its light blinked and the time at which their “fan-heads” would face each other.  All were powered by the same electrical source, which was placed in the center.  One of the most eerie qualities of the piece was the way in which the figures communicated with each other.  Each is reserved and separated in an orderly fashion, but all seem to have the same purpose or source of expression.  The manner in which the fans move imply an effort towards conversation, but the uniform way in which the fans sway back and forth and spew up air is limited and very specific.  When thinking of these sculptures as widows it easy to see a common struggle to move out of their shell and reach out to the world, yet all are unified under the same struggle and can begin to connect back with life.

Ye Nan: The Ball is Flat

This installation as well as the oil piece Who hid that secret in the space between the football and the football field, which was shown in the same room, was a great consideration of space and a clever/insightful comment on the human race.  Ye Nan uses soccer as a culminating symbol of the game of life.  Soccer is the most popular and widely played sport of the world for a reason, and its ability to bring different cultures together, and get to our desire for competition, interaction, and companionship is especially revealing.

This exhibition is impressive in the way it makes use of the entire room.  Soccer ball shells are carefully pieced together to create linoleum type flooring that covers every inch of the floor.  Upon entering the room my attention was immediately taken by the large earth shaped ball that was covered in real grass and painted with a small isolated goal box.  I didn’t even notice the floor until I could feel how it changed my movements and received the weight of my body.  It’s no wonder that this installation was curetted by Qiu Zhijie, who considers space in a very similar way.

This piece points to a trend that I feel separates the contemporary Chinese art scene from the West.  Exhibitions such as Art for Sale (1999), Post-Sense Sensibility: Distorted Bodies and Delusion (1999), Persistent Deviation/Corruptionists (1998) to more recent exhibition such as Breaking Through the Ice and The Ball is Flat, all put a considerable amount of thought into the environment that art creates.  Chinese artists have been quite experimental with finding new places and ways to display their art.  Much can be lost when a gallery hangs artists’ painting next to each other in the same exact way.  This neutrality can be boring and take away life, emotion, and intent.  After all, if an artist is to display a work for audience to see, he/she should be sure that the viewer can be drawn to it existence and given a context to completely appreciate the work.

Qiu Zhijie: Breaking Through the Ice

This installation, which was shown at UCCA in Beijing, is massive in its scale and ambition.  Upon walking into the space, one cannot help but be overwhelmed by its size and ability to completely envelope the viewer.  However, when entering this exhibition, one no longer remains the viewer but becomes a participant.  The individual is left to wander through the hull of a gigantic ship, obsessing over the impressive intricate details, while trying to piece together the larger puzzle that speaks on the modernization of China and remembering the hardships and troubles of its past.

This installation was probably the most impressive and complete exhibition that I had seen during my few months in China.  It is able to balance a dense amount of information with the space it gives to the viewer.  All the pieces are distributed through the space in a way that allows the viewer to explore without being bombarded with an overwhelming amount of data.  Qiu Zhijie considers every inch of the space, from the floor, to the walls, and the shape and feel of the room.  The curvature of the upper walls fits seamlessly with the thick wooden barricades that resemble the belly of an old and massive ship.  The space is also contained but opened to the point where the ceiling seems to disappear.  I was able to see this exhibition at two separate occasions (during the week of its opening and closing) and each time was just as exciting, full of new discoveries and insights. 

       

Shen Yuan: Hurried Words

Hair holds a very special place in the lives of humans across the world.  Its natural appearance, thickness, color, and shape holds enough information to indicate a person’s cultural background, while the way one chooses to cut, style, color, or maintain their hair is an indicator of a person’s character and personal identity.  One’s hair becomes an external representation of a person, showing aspects of an individual’s identity for everyone to see.  But at the same time, hair has movement.  Its appearance changes with the flow of time and it physically leaves our body in its natural shedding and our imposed desire to have it cut away from us.  We love it because it is a part of us, but at times we loathe it because it doesn’t always hold up to our desires.

The Hurried Words show at Ullens Center for Contemporary Art exemplifies these cultural ideas of hair.  It consists of two installations, one a large brush that has captured the hair of many and the other a sea of hanging hair dryers that blows air through rolling cloth tongues at timed intervals.  The brush’s size indicates the magnitude at which we are joined by this common expression of identity, while the number of different hairstyles is a reference to our individuality.  We all seem to filter ourselves through this physical manifestation of the modern world, where part of us is inevitably caught in its crosshairs.  To me, the hair dryers represent time and language and way our voices can be droned out by the concurrent sound of the many.  Time is unexpected but relentless and forever moving. 

Chinese Art and Animation

Matthew White
June 1, 2009
Contemporary Art & New Media in China
Final Paper

Chinese Art and Animation

New technology has, in recent decades, allowed for a
plethora of new and innovative methods to create as well as display
art. Artists today aren't limited to static images hung on walls or
placed on the floor, and instead take advantage of entire spaces with
sound, light and movement. One such medium that utilizes all three of
these elements while still possessing an emphasis on technical
drafting skill would be animation. Still seen as somewhat commercial
in China's contemporary art world, a number of artists have been
working with animation, and in turn are slowly legitimizing a highly
fertile art form that's potential has only begun to be investigated.
Much like its immobile cousin, illustration, animation is
still struggling to assert itself into the world of high art. Despite
many artists primarily working with illustration and/or animation, it
is still more aligned with design as opposed to painting. Whether or
not this is where it belongs is up for debate, and a number of Chinese
artists, specifically Shanghai-born artist Tang Maohong, are using
their unique take to catapult the medium into the galleries and
museums, right alongside traditional oil landscapes and marble
sculpted-figures. Unfortunately, animation, both in its commercial and
fine art form, is locked in an uphill battle, fighting its label as
"cartoons," which in turn applies an arbitrary naiveté to the work,
regardless of the actual content and themes being presented and
explored. Although this can certainly be a disadvantage, there are
also benefits. Animation allows for a certain amount of playfulness
and can often slip by being too heady as a video or documentary may
be, simultaneously putting forth the same questions and discussing the
same issues. It can also create any scenario with unlimited
possibilities which would be impossible for a live action video. This
sort of ambivalent space is where many artists are working, especially
young tech-savvy Chinese artists such as Wu Junyong, Bu Hua, Tang
Maohong, Qiu Anxiong, Chen Shaoxiong, Sun Xun and others. In fact it
is mostly artists born after 1970 (and after most of the Cultural
Revolution) that have taken to animation to the point where it is its
own emerging and growing movement (along with digital works) in
contemporary Chinese art. Each artist contributes to this movement
through their own individual styles and processes, as well as methods
of exhibition.

Ranging from manual hand drawn images to computer generated objects,
animation, in a way, less an art movement within itself and more of an
extension or "upgrade" to pre-existing art forms like painting and
drawing. There are many features animation has over other art forms.
Obviously the major difference is the presence of movement. Animation
is, simply, moving pictures so motion is vital to a piece of animated
work. What movement also brings is the element of time, something an
unmoving piece of work doesn't possess in of itself. To watch an
animation, one must stop and watch the screen or projected image for
the full duration of the piece. Thus, the viewing process is
transformed into an experience where the viewer and work are
interacting rather than the viewer just gazing upon a piece. To
elevate or enhance this experience, music and sound are often included
in animation. While little static artwork incorporate sound or music,
it is one of the key characteristics of animation that set it apart
from other art forms. So with the addition of sound, viewing animation
takes on a cinematic feel, drawing the audience in more completely,
thus allowing for a more satisfying viewing. As an added perk, many
popular musicians or sound artists collaborate with animators, and a
melding of art scenes occur. In the case of China, with the art world
still somewhat small I comparison to either the US or Europe, cross-
overs such as this are possible, with the result far outweighing the
sum of its parts. However there are also some downsides to animation,
such as the time and money required to produce it. To hire a studio or
use professional equipment to produce a work would be far too costly,
especially since many animation artists are young and not as
established. Their solutions are as inventive as they are frugal such
as Bu Hua using Flash and showing much of her work online, Sun Xun
using newspaper or Qiu Anxiong who hand paints every frame himself.
Another obstacle is time. Animating takes a long time since each frame
(usually around 12 a second) must be created by the artist. It is
unlikely that an artist would devote years of their life to create one
animated feature, therefore they opt for shorts over full-length
features. In terms of artistic value, animation has few flaws, and
they mostly occur upon viewing the work. While mostly a problem for
longer works, watching an animation forces the viewer to see exactly
what the artist intends, thus eliminating any self-discovery or
interpretation. In addition, an animation exists in its fully realized
form, with little room for potential or change. It is in its final
state and rarely takes into account the environment in which it is in.
Whereas a painting or sculpture can interact with the room or viewer
in terms of space, animation forces the audience to stay in front of a
screen or projection and watch the images on the screen. The visual
alone harkens a sort of Orwellian propaganda or that old Apple
advertisement. Although early Chinese animation dealt with shadow
puppets, today all animation is displayed on a screen, thus needing
electricity, viewing space and a number of other requirements. While
this may seem limiting to some, many young Chinese artists have been
able to capitalize on animations unique strengths and weaknesses to
create very exciting modern works.

Of the handful of Chinese animation artists, there are a few whose
work stands out for both its form and content. Tang Maohong is a
native Chinese artist in his early 30s who has been working almost
exclusively in animation for the last few years. He studied
traditional styles in school and dabbled with photography and video
before moving on to animation. Currently based in Shanghai, Tang
Maohong has been exhibiting his animated shorts at a number of places
including Shanghart Gallery, BizArt and the Zendai Museum of Modern
Art. His 2005 show, Orchid Finger, was quite well received and is an
accurate example of Tang's work. By combining traditional Chinese
forms with absurd and often perverse content, Tang's animations border
on the humorous, critical and surreal. By utilizing a light box and
recognizable subject matter, Tang's works show technical skill, while
at the same time commenting on China's constantly moving modern
culture. Most of Tang's pieces are displayed in a circular format,
echoing Song Dynasty era paintings of flowers and birds. Many of his
pieces contain things such as animals, plants and fruit that are
always subverted in some way. Alongside these traditional elements,
are usually two or three figures, interacting with the oversized fruit
and animals in a comedic way. The figures almost consistently faceless
and are engaged in perverse acts, juxtaposing repressed sexual
thoughts with serious matters including revolution, the environment
and human interaction. Tang takes full advantage of animation's
ability to be both meaningfully significant and tongue and cheek. So a
figure may be dressed in a Chinese military uniform holding a rifle,
but his pants are pulled down around his ankles. Tang describes his
work as being a way of expressing his thoughts and emotions, but also
making the viewer laugh. By using essentially cartoon characters, Tang
can break certain social taboos and avoid any negative backlash or
having his work being labeled as "shock art." Tang also enjoys being
able to do anything he wants within a certain set of guides, such as
the size of the work, the style, etc. For the time he is content with
his short animated works, but would still be open to creating longer,
more extensive cycles. His main focus is to raise animation and
cartooning to the level of high art by referencing art history in
addition to popular culture in a lighthearted yet mature way, in order
to explore the kinds of issues a painting or a performance would
address.

Similar to Tang Maohong's work is that of Wu Junyong, particularly his
animated works. Known internationally due to a 2006 solo show at the
Chinese Contemporary Art gallery in New York, Wu uses software such as
flash to create his animated music videos such as "When We Are Rich,"
a flash movie aimed at critiquing China's ever-increasing
materialistic mentality with inane images and music. Wu also includes
undressed figures in his pieces, but they are the majority of the
content. The figures are always naked and wearing red cone hats acting
in a goofy manner, and the animations are also short clips looped over
and over into a hypnotizing repetition of colors and line (something
unreachable for regular drawing). Wu work is often labeled as
unintelligible or nonsense, however the inherent silliness of his
pieces exist to soften the true social content being discussed. The
similarities between Wu and Tang's works show a sort of universal
animation language, using simple gestures and movements, sometimes
along with quick sound clips, endlessly looped. The lack of a plot or
even a loose narrative moves the artists' works away from commercial
animation and more towards fine art. Since nearly all commercial
animation exists in the form of cartoons for either TV or movies, the
removal of specific events or characters undermines one of the
characteristics that keeps animation in the realm of popular culture
as opposed to the contemporary Chinese art world.

Contrary to this is the work of Qiu Anxiong, which relies on a
narrative and story and has a clear beginning and end. More like a
short film, Qiu's works draw heavily upon cinematic traditions and
techniques to create a sort of short (roughly thirty minutes) animated
art movie. Qiu admits that normal, non-moving mediums are "not enough"
to get his point across and he prefers the meditative act of painting
each frame by hand. The resulting piece is a beautiful, flowing
display of what only animation can do including music, in order to
evoke an emotional response from the viewer. The subject matter Qiu
uses in his work is very controversial such as war, rapid
modernization and urbanization, as well as biological issues such as
cloning. While watching one of Qiu's works, the viewer is deeply drawn
into the constant movement of the ink and paint, which transforms from
one frame to the next. To Qiu Anxiong, a narrative is a necessity,
there in order to bring the viewer into the dystopic painted world he
has created. Qiu's work exists as a warning towards the rapid
industrialization of the world and the possible consequences that may
arise because of it. But unlike Wu and Tang's works which deal almost
exclusively with traditional Chinese imagery, Qiu's animations,
specifically "The New Book of Mountains and Oceans," a two-part black
and white film, seems to function on a more global scale, referencing
both the 9/11 attacks as well as the chaotic situation in the Middle
East. In the videos, technology and machines are replaced with
nightmarish creatures with Qiu treating the modernization of China as
an insectoid invasion. Displayed at the 2006 Shanghai Bienniale, Qiu's
animations have achieved the level of reverence often reserved for
more traditional high art forms. Perhaps it is because Qiu's work is
basically a series of paintings and is not so different from existing
Chinese ink paintings. But instead of representing one school of
thought within animation, Qiu, along with Tang and Wu, are of a small
group of artists using today's technology to create a set of works
aimed to entertain as well as educate.

Aside from the aforementioned artists, there are a number of Chinese
artists whose work broadens animation in terms of both production and
presentation. Bu Hua, a female artist originally born in Beijing in
1975, uses vector images and flash to create modern animations about
life in a constantly growing and changing urban landscape. Bu Hua then
uses the internet as her main form of exhibiting and already has a
following online. Trained as a painter, Bu's style is very much a
product of her traditional upbringing combined with today's technology
to create work similar to Qiu Anxiong, but with a focus on young
people. Perhaps Bu blurs the line between high art and popular
consumption animation the most by displaying her works online for
free, yet achieving a level of sophistication and maturity that
resonates with both the average viewer and the seasoned art critic.
Sux Xun is another animator who's interesting style has inserted him
into today's foremost Chinese animators. Xun's work incorporates text
and outside images, amongst his own renderings, as he mixes
traditional art techniques with new media. Often political or
historical, Xun's work address the world today, which he accomplishes
by creating his animation on newspapers. The viewer sees the date,
images and headlines that immediately place a context around the Xun's
moving images. While not as revolutionary or innovative as Bu's work,
Xun tackles sensitive subject matter within his animations.

Similarities are obvious between many of China's young artist
animators who present absurd surrealist images always with a dash of
humor and fun. Perhaps because animation makes this possible, most of
the above artists ingeniously employ ridiculous content in order to
discuss serious issues in China today including censorship, military,
aggressive modernization, etc. By using a cartoon, the viewer is not
seeing a realistic representation of say a person with their head
blown off, or little naked men in red hats dancing, but instead a
illustrative rendering that can achieve the same effect, without the
starkness and controversy of a real picture. In this way animation's
potential is far higher than photography or even video, which is why
so many young artists choose to work in it. With computers being more
and more integrated into daily life, digital animation seems to be the
way of the future. Instead of spending hours in a studio slaving over
a canvas with oils and brushes, the new generation of Chinese artists
is in front of the monitor, seamlessly moving the mouse to create new
digitally generated imagery. Artists like Feng Mengbo utilize 3-D
imaging programs to create work that exists as data rather than
tangible materials. Feng's work, while not really considered animation
as much as digital art, seems to made with the same perspective – one
driven by the irony and wit of youth culture.

For now animation art in China is in a youthful state with its leading
figures experimenting and having fun with a relatively new medium. The
movement's leading artists are varied, but with one common language
consisting of moving images, sound and experience. Through their
works, animation can exist as both high art and commercial
entertainment, with occasional sublime overlap. Currently entering a
stage of adolescence, the next step of Chinese animation art seems to
be getting through puberty. A hectic time of changes and upheaval, but
with animation being considered high art as the end result. But
perhaps where animation exists now is its true place within the art
world. Forever skirting the line between animation art and popular
cartoons, animation in China seems to be coming into its own, creating
a language of visuals and audio, marrying the two to envelope the
viewer in a unique artistic, yet entertaining experience.

Wesley AuYeung - Midterm

Wesley AuYeung

            The Cultural Revolution in China opened up a whole new world in which the people of China could more freely express themselves. In particular, much of the censorship placed on art other forms of media was repealed following the end of the Cultural Revolution. As a result, art flourished throughout China. Many cities in China, starting with Beijing, began allowing artists to put up their work in public exhibitions, parks, and buildings. Exhibitions such as the China/Avant-Garde Exhibition, the first national Chinese art exhibition featuring works from avant-garde artists, gave aspiring Chinese artists and non-artists a chance to finally see artists’ works without the veil of censorship covering whatever the government did not want the people to see.

            Many art exhibitions have popped up in China since then, especially in Beijing. Apart from being China’s political capital for the past few hundred years, Beijing has always been very cultural. Many famous and historical structures reside in Beijing, such as the Palace of Heaven, the Forbidden City, and Tiananmen Square amongst other historical sites. As such, it comes as no surprise that Beijing is also the art capital of China as well. However, Shanghai has recently become more and more involved with the art scene, and the art community located in and around the Bund has been expanding. But even though Shanghai is on its way to one day stealing the spotlight from Beijing, it may never truly be the art capital of China due to reasons rooted in Shanghai’s economy-oriented culture.

            Shanghai is known for its lively nightlife and thriving economy, but the city’s art community is not something that instantly flashes to mind when mentioning Shanghai. For those searching for a more cultural and bohemian part of Shanghai, the Bund would be the best bet. The Bund is the place to go for people wanting to visit art exhibitions and galleries in Shanghai. But even though the Bund and the areas surrounding the Bund are pouring with art and culture, the rest of Shanghai overshadows the creative sector with its fast-paced metropolitan atmosphere.

            Despite Shanghai’s overall atmosphere, the creative sector in Shanghai is still something to behold. Towards the beginning of the semester, I went to the “Intrude Art & Life 366” exhibit at the Zendai MoMA. Inside, I saw many works from various Chinese artists in the form of pictures, paintings, drawings, messages, sculptures, and videos. One exhibit that really caught my eye was the “Injured Angels” exhibit by Liu Jin. I suppose one of the main reasons this exhibit got my attention was because the angels in the exhibit were hanging from two ledges perpendicular to the entrance, but I was intrigued nonetheless. When I read the little placard that gave the description and reasoning behind the artist’s work, I found myself nodding my head in agreement. The angels had been displayed in public before they reached the Zendai MoMA. Liu Jin hung the angels from buildings across Shanghai to represent the fragility of Shanghainese people amidst the urbanization of Shanghai. In my opinion, I do not believe it is the people who are fragile; it is the culture that is truly at risk during this time of rapid change for Shanghai.

            I did not know what to expect from contemporary Chinese art before I saw it on display at the Zendai MoMA. All I could think about when I heard Chinese art were those classic paintings of tigers against a mountainous background that many older Chinese artists paint on scroll paper. With this in mind, I figured contemporary Chinese art would be something that resembled artworks I’ve seen in New York, except with an Asian influence. Unfortunately, I was a little disappointed to find that many of the pieces I saw in the Zendai MoMA did not have the Asian influence I expected. I suppose my sense of art may not be as sharp as some of my peers since I myself am not an artist, but I did not see anything in the artworks that truly set them apart from what I might find at an American art gallery or even a European one, for that matter.

            More recently, I was lucky enough to visit the Propaganda Poster Art Center. There was a huge collection of propaganda posters from the Mao era in this gallery that Yang Pei Ming, the owner of the center, collected. Though the posters themselves weren’t created with the intention of displaying the artists’ creativity, I enjoyed it nonetheless. As I walked through the gallery viewing each poster and reading its corresponding caption, I could not help but think to myself about how I would probably never be able to find a gallery quite like this in the United States. Each poster portrayed Americans and other non-communist Western people as monsters or demons, while the Chinese and China’s communist comrades were drawn as glorious heroes. In the United States, it was much more likely to see the opposite. Even though the creative aspect of this poster art was suppressed by the censorship the government instilled at the time, I still admired each poster for its cultural purpose. The posters represented a time in China that was unique to China, and because the posters are physically from that time, they are that much more valuable as cultural and artistic works.

            Fortunately, things have changed a lot since then. Though many artists continue to get censored by the government, censorship is much lighter than it was during Mao’s era. During Mao’s reign, nearly anything that represented independent thought that did not coincide with communist thought was destroyed. During the Cultural Revolution, Mao set up campaigns to destroy any type of art including literature, paintings, and sculptures. Intellectuals would be persecuted, and people were driven to the point where they would report their own family members to the government in fear of the government punishing the entire family for hiding something. Now, artists can enjoy the freedom of painting and creating nearly anything they want. The only limitation as far as censorship goes is censorship of works put on public display.

            Despite the fact that censorship laws in China are much less severe than they were in the past, this selective censorship still creates some problems in the art community. Due to the selective censorship the government now enforces, some artists have been bullied into creating for the people as opposed to creating for themselves. Artists begin to think that the only way to become successful is to create art that can be displayed and that other people will like. Thus, these artists lose their potential by succumbing to the will of the government. Even so, many artists still create whatever they want regardless of what the government says.

            During the “Fuck Off” exhibition, held in the Eastlink Gallery warehouse in Shanghai, many contemporary Chinese artists put up various pieces on display. The exhibition was notorious for the selection of artwork that went up on display. Many of the pieces had a very disturbing nature. One artist, Zhu Yu, submitted a performance entitled “Eating People”. The exhibit itself contained photographs of the artist presumably cooking and ultimately eating human fetuses. After one of the photographs leaked on the internet, the FBI and Scotland Yard began investigating the circumstances. Eventually, the Shanghai police shut down the exhibition before its intended closing date. The exhibition marked Shanghai’s first attempt at an international gallery of contemporary Chinese art. Though some may consider the exhibition a little dark, it set the wheels in motion for future international surveys to be held in Shanghai and the rest of China.

            Art has come a long way in China since the end of the Cultural Revolution. Though artists now experience much more freedom than they did in the past, I still do not feel that contemporary art in China is quite up to par. I have seen few artists, let alone works that truly distinguish contemporary Chinese art from the rest of the world’s contemporary art. The only artist that I can really think of to accomplish such a feat is Yu Youhan, who made pop-art out of photographs of Mao Zedong. Though the pieces themselves resembled what Andy Warhol had done with Marilyn Monroe’s photographs, I felt that what Yu Youhan did was a step in the right direction for contemporary Chinese art.

            Contemporary art in China is still young. Many artists in Beijing and Shanghai are still experimenting with different types of mediums to convey their ideas to their audiences. Though the cultural capital of China is currently Beijing, it may change someday. There has been a lot of recent growth in the art sector in Shanghai. Many artists have come to Shanghai to try and cultivate the art scene here, and hopefully they’ll make a difference. But I think in order for the artists in Shanghai to truly make a difference, they have to embrace China’s past and incorporate more of it into their works, including the parts of China’s history they may not particularly want to remember.  

The Art Scenes of Beijing and Shanghai - A Comparison by Doreen Ho

Chinese contemporary art in Shanghai has developed a persistent momentum in the past few decades and continues to develop with the encouragement of creative clusters, namely creative spaces such as 50 Moganshan Road and Tianzifang. Yet, Shanghai, as an international, leading economic metropolis, has not yet seen the magnitude of commercialism and renown as Beijing’s 798 Dashanzi Art District has experienced in the past ten years. Why hasn’t Shanghai’s art scene been able to attain the international recognition and success of Beijing’s art scene? In what direction is Shanghai’s art scene heading?
In order to understand this divide, it is important to understand Shanghai’s unique history and development within the past few decades. Following the Opium Wars in the 19th century, foreign concessions were established in Shanghai, most prominent of which were of British and French influence. Thus, early on, Shanghai was exposed to the influence of the Western world. Today, Shanghai has become an international metropolis, the city that represents modern China and the possibilities for the future. Beijing hosts a different city dynamic, however. Politically central, Beijing protects the ancient traditional Chinese architectural constructs such as the Forbidden City and is the home base for the government. Artists from all provinces have convened in the nation’s capital, all striving to produce their works. Perhaps the city allows an identity that conditions artwork produced in the nation’s capitol to be deemed authentic Chinese contemporary art, as a strong nationalist pride in Beijing reckons it the cultural center of China. Additionally, Beijing hosts the famous academic art academies in the nation, including the Central Academy of Fine Arts (CAFA).
Contrastingly, Shanghai, the global metropolis of business and the economic hub of China, has established itself as the quintessential modern international city of the world that developed from a history steeped in international identity. Additionally, the art scene in Shanghai has grown from a grassroots movement, under the artists’ advisement, that has been less commercial than Beijing’s 798. The battle to represent contemporary Chinese art continues to oscillate between the two cities.
Shanghai’s art scene has developed out of a distinguished history. Shanghai’s art development has been continually interrupted since the 1930s, during which works were lost, burned, and damaged during the Sino-Japanese war and during the period of civil war unrest that ensued. By 1949, art was solely used as a political mechanism, controlled by the Communist Party as a means to carry out massive, sweeping political campaigns, such as the Cultural Revolution. Only in the early 1980s, after the initiation of Deng Xiaoping’s economic reforms and the opening of China’s doors to the world, did art begin to develop for art’s sake and experimentation become a new way of expression. In retrospect, the Chinese contemporary art scene is actually quite young. Throughout the 1980s, artists explored and learned from Western art books, catching up on over 150 years of the progression of modern Western art. China had been isolated for nearly 30 years following the inception of Communism, so it was only beginning in the 1980s that artists could gain exposure and exchange with the Western art world. It was beginning in the 1980s that artists had the new opportunity to experiment and explore art for themselves and for art’s sake, and not for the people or to push wide spread government policy. It was also not until the year 2000, when the Shanghai Biennale was the first time the government officially allowed multimedia projects to be exhibited to the public.
The concept for an art community like 50 Moganshan has been somewhat successful, as these creative spaces have become commercialized, attractive and accessible to tourists and foreigners. Whereas, the concept for a creative cluster such as 50 Moganshan and Beijing’s 798 is a strategic means of connecting with the local environment, these creative spaces have also emphasized the great contrast between Chinese contemporary art as it is viewed domestically and internationally. While innovative in theory, Shanghai’s 50 Moganshan attracts foreign art collectors and tourists, which begs to question whether or not more local faces can become a greater demographic of whom the Chinese contemporary art world can effectively reach. At a recent studio visit, artist Xu Zhen remarked on the importance of capturing a wider audience and forging connections with Chinese citizens. He noted that the art scene might develop stronger if there is attention for Chinese art beyond the art community. Art must reach out to the people-- and maybe this could develop better in Shanghai if M50 had more of a user-friendly atmosphere, including more cafes and shopping in the area, similar to 798. Moreover, it is crucial that local Chinese citizens are given the opportunity to engage within the development of art culture in Shanghai and in the nation. This kind of local grassroots approach is essential to establishing a strong art scene in Shanghai and within China.
Notably, the “A Starting Point: Intrude Art & Life 366” exhibition at ZendaiMOMA gallery was a forward step towards addressing this issue. The exhibition brought creative art, performance art, and new media art directly in contact with Chinese citizens. The local Chinese held a leading role in the art created for the year long project. Furthermore, “A Starting Point” explored many contemporary social issues that China faces today. From the right to privacy and youth identity, to consumerism, prison reform, women’s rights, and how to live in a harmonious society as the nation with the world’s largest population, the exhibition provided a looking glass into China’s new struggles and the challenges that face the nation’s stability and identity as it strives towards rapid development and change initiated by the government and pressure from the international realm. There exists an underlying tension, internal and external forces that are pulling China in different directions, in a paradigm of pressures and expectations. Is China ready to live up to its title as an economic power and its consequential implications, socially and politically? In recent years, China has been the center focus as a rapidly developing nation, an economic powerhouse, with the potential to expand its military might. It seems that everyone wants a piece of the development—China is developing ties with all nations, with dense pressures from the global economy and especially with the onset of the recent global financial crisis. Chinese contemporary art struggles with international pressures as well, and more and more often, it must reconcile external perceptions with domestic perceptions, or rather, a readiness attitude, that come from within the nation; this is the foundation for development that spans multiple disciplines, including the Chinese economy and art world. Are the people ready to change, to move, to develop? Inevitably, infrastructure may change and develop at a fast pace, but the Chinese people must also be ready for that change as well. Otherwise, Shanghai and China will be built with infrastructure but no real foundation to maintain and encourage future growth.
Chinese contemporary art is realizing this identity struggle that involves the complex interweaving of Chinese contemporary art being its own art, and not a mere imitation of Western modern art. Moreover, the international art market, and the international realm in general, all have their eyes on China. They see rapid change and potential. However, China must change on its own from within its nation. More importantly, Chinese contemporary art should be allowed and accepted to stand on its own. Herein lies another divide: the concept of East and West is still quite foreign to today’s newly emerging globalization and interconnected world. Until the word “foreign” can be diluted to mean less of what it means, certain divided notions of what Chinese contemporary art should be compared to what Western contemporary art has already established will still exist.
The development of identity spans across disciplines; music and art are in the midst of developing a strong identity that is solely Modern Chinese. Arts culture may also be dependent on the economic well-being of Chinese citizens. As more and more local Chinese reap the rewards of the market economy, perhaps the income disparity gap will seem less apparent and art will be accessible to both the foreigners/expat world and local world alike.
Another significant factor that influences the momentum for development of art in Shanghai is invariably the issue of censorship. Censorship continues to impede on the free expression and possibilities for experimentation in the art world. The Fuckoff Exhibition in 2000 was a striking example of the gravity and sensitivity of government censorship in art exhibitions. The exhibition, featuring 46 avant-garde artists’ works, was closed by Shanghai police due to controversial works, most notably, the performance art installation of “Eating People” by Zhu Yu. Censorship continues to be a sensitive topic in the development of experimentation in Chinese contemporary art.
Additionally, a generation gap has formed among different aged artists in China. This ultimately has affected the different experimentations and artistic works produced in the past thirty years. For example, artists such as Yu Youhan have produced works that touch upon Maoist era content, while artists such as Shi Yong and Xu Zhen have focused on more of China’s contemporary social issues. Qiu Zhijie’s recent exhibition, “Breaking Through The Ice”, at the UCCA in Beijing’s 798 District explores the idea of “total art”. Total art refers to the social and cultural research of Qiu’s work and his presentation of the historical significance of the Nanjing Bridge against today’s social backdrop; his installation combines his research and emanates social awareness. Qiu’s installation work creates a model for artistic experimentation via pushing the limits of what one can and cannot do within the constraints of government censorship. More and more experimental conceptual and performance art have been created in the past ten years and continues to push the limits of censorship today.
For some artists, such a Shi Yong, Chinese contemporary art is trying to find expression in new forms; for Shi, he found this new expression in installation art. He was looking for a new form of expression that built upon the abstract art thru the 1980’s and the political pop he felt was “too kitsch”. He wanted to build a new language, a new style, a new identity to Chinese contemporary art. However, in forming his own artistic language, he realized the challenge of trying to balance his own artistic ideas while being careful of not losing his audience. Therein lies a tension: how far can one push the limits in art experimentation? However, this point must also coincide within the same plane as the artists’ vision and the government’s censorship. With artists being arrested and exhibits being closed down on the day they open, it is difficult to measure how much experimental artistic action an artist can take. There is a constant fear of the Propaganda Department that creates a censorship dilemma, a dilemma that emanates in the back of everyone’s mind.
The artists’ initiative in organizing large-scale art productions is a testament to strength in numbers and continues to be a grassroots movement that allows discussion and experimentation and engagement with local Chinese. Social constructs have helped build a social art community, in which artists live in artist villages and exchange ideas and opinions, and even come together to work on special exhibitions and large-scale creative projects, such as the Long March Project and the Twelve Artists’ exhibition held in Shanghai, which was the first exhibition organized by the artists themselves.
I’d like to see art develop within the country first— it takes time and also, developing a domestic audience. It is important to learn from the examples of artists in the West; however, it is also important to let Chinese art grow from its own soil. A deeper exchange between the East and West will facilitate growth of contemporary art in China. Also, art may be more effective if it is fed deeper into daily life for locals to access arts culture information via media and in education. The art world must continue to draw an ever-widening audience; it must open up, reach out and relate to the Chinese people.
With a long history of international expats and foreigners mixed with local Chinese, Shanghai has begun to intertwine these demographics along economic lines. As the economy continues to raise the quality of life in China, new Chinese wealth will help Shanghai facilitate a flourishing art scene as new collectors and help develop a higher appreciation for arts culture in China. This gradual opening up and exposure to the art scene will allow exploration and continued experimentation in the art world. Furthermore, the booming of internet users and thriving netizen bloggers in China have aggregated efficient and widespread resources to information. The internet is now making censorship more and more costly for the government, as it is becoming harder and harder to stop the free flow of information, internationally and domestically. Censorship may gradually dissipate or at least become less apparent as time goes on. It is crucial that experimental art continues to push the limits further and further, challenging censorship and building a foundation for contemporary art in China. It is only a matter of time before Shanghai’s art scene will flourish and open up economically, socially, and politically from its present stance.

Shows at ShanghART and Bizart

There is a combined artists show at ShanghART, with our friends Zhou Tiehai, Shi Yong, and Yu Youhan and many others. There are a some interesting works in the show-- such as a wild millet-coated polyester sculpture by Wang Guanyi, titled "The Materialist" and collages by Xue Song. There is a really cool and colorful piece by Wei Guangqing, titled "The Zhu Family Instructions 19-24" that reminds me of a Justice song, with bright colors forming vertical stripes, creating the background for the everyday movements of moral righteousness as recorded in the ancient book of the Zhu Family Instructions, depicting figures similar to those seen in old Chinese scroll paintings. Each panel of moral instruction is labeled by a traditional saying that are timeless and can be applied universally, such as: "If others are experiencing good fortune, do not become jealous." I particularly enjoy this work because it mixes a kind of pop contemporary, modern culture, symbolizing the modern development of China fused with old traditional moral codes and standards. Wei does a great job incorporating the modern with ancient Chinese roots.

The Group Show at ShanghART Gallery runs from April 5, 2009 thru June 15, 2009.

(Photos courtesy of ShanghART Gallery: http://www.shanghartgallery.com/galleryarchive/exhibition.htm?exbId=2401)

NYTimes article on Contemporary Chinese Art during Economic Recession

"China's Art Market: Cold or Maybe Hibernating?"
An Article from the New York Times written by David Barboza, published on March 10, 2009

The New York Times published an article with a brief overview of the contemporary chinese art scene in March. The article begins by describing the massive and decadent studio of famous chinese artist, Zeng Fanzhi, whose works can sell up to the millions of dollars in international auction houses. However, with the recent downturn and financial crisis depressing the world economy, the demand for Chinese contemporary art has fallen, after recent years of high success in the international art market. The article states that "by 2007, 5 of the 10 best-selling living artists at auction were Chinese-born, led by Zhang Xiaogang, who trailed only Gerhard Richter and Damien Hirst. That year, Mr. Zhang’s auction sales totaled $56 million, according to Artprice.com." Many critics said that the suddenly explosive demand for Chinese contemporary art in recent years would find itself in a bubble market in the coming years, and most recently that bubble has been stressed by the economic crisis. Galleries have been closing, people losing their jobs...it seems the Chinese art world has hit a wall.

However, there are some who see this time as an optimistic opportunity for creativity to thrive. oduced their most popular works. “The market zooming up made a lot of people blind and deaf,” said Jérôme Sans, director of the Ullens Center for Contemporary Art in Beijing. “Now, we can have production of the mind, not just the product. No more of this making fast money" (qtd. in NYTimes). There were concerns that for a time, the commercial success of rising-fast chinese artists whose works were hitting jackpot in auction houses, were directing the chinese contemporary art world into imitations and reproductions and not enough original works-- the art was working for the market and money, but not art for art's sake. However, with the market at a hault, it seems that chinese artists can take this time to develop strong and innovative works without the pressures of money, hype, and sales. It will be interesting to see where the direction of chinese contemporary art moves towards during this recession and further down the line.

"China's Art Market: Cold or Maybe Hibernating?" can be found at NYTimes.com: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/03/11/arts/design/11decl.html

Chen Zhen on Transexperience

Chen Zhen’s interview on Transexperiences was an insightful look into the discussions and debates of cross cultural experiences and conflicting consequences that may emerge out of a newly interconnected world. Chen explains that a “’Spiritual running-away’ is the most profound experience one can have in life. One should learn to break out of one’s own “cocoon” and be courageous enough to break away from one’s own self and to abandon one’s own cultural context…..[this is when] creative capacity has reached the most active zenith.” This “self-sought loneliness” via moving about and engaging with transexperiences reminds me a lot of Thoreau’s escape to Walden. I was also reminded of all our students’ experiences studying abroad and traveling—Chen’s words relate precisely to our own experiences being here in Shanghai and away from our safety zones, “our cocoons”. In this light, Chen encourages the movement of the art world to encompass artists’ experiences that include both the perspectives of home and away from home, both literally and figuratively. Chen also illustrates that “to immerse oneself in life, to blend and identify oneself with others” is a foundational concept of art, and transexperiences help us to recognize this. He goes on further to say “You have me in you, and I have you in me.”

Chen also talks about what is familiar to us in relation to what is “the other” or what is foreign to us. Chen says that in a “Multi-other world…the center will be left totally blank. This is my revision of the definition of “Others””. Cultural protection, going back to the roots, rediscovering and rebirthing the classics in Chinese philosophy and way of life has been a recent reaction to the imitation of the West. Some Chinese feel they’ve lost their own country’s distinctions and special cultural traits, because the country is trying so hard to modernize and with that, they look towards the West. Chen adds, “Those that are in power suffer from a major paradox: being ideologically conservative, they worship nonetheless whatever is foreign. It is the same disease they’ve been having over the last hundred years.” Therefore, Chen wants us to realize that transexperiences help us to find perspective and balance between the familiar and the other: “A long spell of separation leads to reunion, and a long spell of reunion leads to separation” is no other than a principle of dealing with the world and its people….its called “the self-sought loneliness of opening-up and moving-about”. He also suggests a new way of looking at cultures, not as foreign and conflicting or contrasting, but rather Chen says, “I pay more attention to the psychological processes of their culture.” And therein lies the key to understanding different cultures and peoples as well as applying those new ways of thinking to contemporary art that is fresh, original, revitalizing, and engaging.

Blackboard Show at ShanghART H-Space

The concept of the Blackboard exhibition at ShanghART H-Space is interesting—how to reformat and rethink the use of the traditional tool of learning in the classroom. The exhibition, featuring works by several contemporary artists, included the restructuring and imaginative designs around a 1m by 2m blackboard. It was exciting to see each artist’s interpretations when given a blackboard to work with. Many artists added 3D elements to their works, such as shoes, microchips, etc. whereas some created video performances (Jin Shan's video, To New York, where he pursues illegal taxis to give him a life to New York with the blackboard attached to his back was humorous and creative). Blackboard carvings were quite popular as well, and artist Kan Xuan rebuilt his blackboard to resemble a trash bin. While some works were less original, there are a few works that stood out among the crowd. I particularly enjoyed the crow’s eye video piece by Lu Lei, the sound system blackboard piece by Ye Linghan and of course, it was a riot to see Zhu Yu’s depiction of himself in Court Transcript, on trial for his controversial work in the 2000 Fuck Off Exhibition for eating a fetus (i wonder if it will ever grow old!).

The Blackboard exhibition, curated by Fu Xiaodong including works by artists Wang Xing Wei, Xu Zhen, Yang Zhen Zhong, Xiang Li Qing, Liu Wei Jian, Lu Chun Sheng, Huang Kui, Tang Mao Hong, Shao Yi, Yang Fu dong, Shi Yong, Xiao Jing Feng, Zhang Ding, Qiu AN Xiong, Liu Chuang, Chu Yun, Liu Wei, Jiang Zhi, Jiang Yun Ke, Qiu zhi jie, Chen wen Bo, Kan Xuan, Zhu Yu,Wang Yu Yang, He An, Cheng Ran, Zhang Pei Li, Geng Jian YI, Sun Xun, Lu Lei, Chen Xiao Yun, Tong Biao, Zhao Yang, Wu Jun Yong, Ye Ling Han, Jin Shan, Chen Wei, and Chen Yu Fan, runs from May 23, 2009 thru June 30, 2009 at ShanghART H-Space at 50 Moganshan Road.


(Photos courtesy of Art-Ba-Ba: http://www.art-ba-ba.com/mainframe.asp?ThreadID=24667&ForumID=0&Category=&lange=en)

Modern Dance Lecture: Parallels with Contemporary Chinese Art - Alison M. Friedman

Alison M. Friedman visited our art class to give an insightful presentation on modern dance in China. Very intelligent and energetic, the Fulbright scholar gave a well organized and interesting lecture on the brief history of modern dance and initiated very important discourse on modern dance development in China vs. internationally. The China vs. West debate, and local vs. global debate are discussions that have cycled itself in the classroom, studio visits, and in our readings. It seems to be a discussion that spans across many disciplines, not just art, but modern dance, hip-hop/music culture, etc.

Friedman touched upon the internal and external factors that have a great influence on the direction of modern dance in China today, many factors, in fact, that also correlate along the same lines as those seen in Contemporary art in China. Friedman explained that there is very little funding for modern dance, as well as a limited audience. In addition, there are very little theater infrastructures, limited opportunity to perform, and modern dance education is still developing and being realized within the community, with a brief history of about 20 years. These are all internal factors that have affected modern dance development in China in recent years. Furthermore, external factors include demand that is overwhelming the supply for creative works. There is pressure to create something that is the quintessential expectation of “what is Chinese” in Chinese modern dance (this speaks true of contemporary Chinese art as well). Friendman explained that dance is often interpreted as “not Chinese enough, or too Chinese.” This pressure from the external community is a very frustrating argument among arguments. When we think of Contemporary art or modern dance in the West we think of Contemporary art and modern dance, in general, as it seems the West dictates (or have dictated) the definitions of these artistic movements. However, when we think of modern dance or contemporary art in China, there is always the, “well what makes this Chinese?” I think the greatest fault in this debate is that artists from China already innately include their backgrounds and culture in their works, but this does not mean their Chinese stories have to stick out and be obnoxiously obvious that everyone else can tell it is a Chinese artist’s work (I'm thinking like bright colored dragon printed on the canvas). The fault in this debate is that “Chinese” is so specific that it has perverted the conception of the East as being extraordinarily foreign, and this has become the international expectation for Chinese art.

Friedman mentioned the reception of modern dance in China. Modern dance, as with other modern forms, asks something different from what the audience is traditionally used to. Friedman explained that traditional theater and dance in China has always been very narrative, whereas modern dance asks the audience for their own understanding and concentrated focus (similar to traditional Chinese ink paintings vs. contemporary art). I was shocked to hear that Beijing has over 400 theaters, but less than 10% currently operate. It is an endless and vicious cycle for underground/underdog movements because when you have no audience, you have no ticket sales, and no ticket sales result in no performances, and no performance means you won’t have an audience to sell tickets too, etc. and this keeps going in an endless cycle. It is important to build a diverse community around arts and culture.

Photo Courtesy of Beijing Modern Dance Company and BBC: www.bbc.co.uk/.../china_in_london_feature.shtml)

Hanzhou architecture—Lecture by Mathieu Borysevicz

Last week in class, photographer Mathieu Borysevicz visited us to talk about his recent works in China. Borysevicz's interest in signage in urban areas have reached between New York City, Beijing, Nebraska, and Shanghai. For the past few years, Borysevicz has spent time researching in Hangzhou and compiling a photo archive of the city’s architecture and signage for his new book, Learning From Hangzhou, due to premiere this summer. The book is well-organized with collages of colorful photographs bound to tickle your senses. I hadn’t realized that Hangzhou was such a modge-podge of architecturally savvy design and innovation! I was impressed to see Borysevicz’s photos of a Paris-inspired Hanzhou, as well as hints of Venice. Loved the photographs of the Hangzhou Architecture Design school. I particularly enjoy seeing the modern chic Chinese design in constructing smart and innovative buildings with steel and wood and bamboo. I thought his concept of photographing mirroring images for billboards was interesting, particularly for his project in Nebraska. In a recent project in Shanghai, Borysevicz made a collage of photographs he had taken of local construction workers and placed their smiling faces on the outside of the construction site for passerbys to view, as if seeing what was going on behind the construction gate. Borysevicz also interpreted this as a way of giving character to the construction of the building. I thought the concept was pretty interesting, although afterward it seemed that the construction workers were a bit shy about having their faces posted on the side of the street. I thought it was kind of fun and gave them due credit for the amazing work they do.

Mathieu Borysevicz on the web: www.mabz.net/

Nostalgia for the Future by Juan I-Jong at epSITE Imaging Gallery

On a recent visit to Moganshan 50, I came across the exhibition “Nostalgia for the Future” at the epSITE Imaging Gallery, a retrospective look at Taiwan through the lense of Taiwanese photographer, Juan I-Jong.
An interesting title for an exhibition and very fitting. Juan does a great job of bringing the viewer into the action and makes one feel engaged with the people in his photographs.
Looking at the black and white photographs of Taiwan, I was instantly taken back to the 1970’s life of the island’s citizens. Moreover, I couldn’t help but think of my parents and see my parents in the stunning portrait photographs of young children, elders, and workers carrying on with their day-to-day lives. Looking at Juan's photographs, I was also moved to reminisce about my own experiences and summers spent in Taiwan, finding a personal nostalgia for Guanyin Mountain and Danshui, the Fisherman’s wharf, just north of downtown Taipei. Juan got the mood and feel of the atmosphere just right in these photos, as I remember them.

When I was reflecting on the photographs in “Nostalgia for the Future”, I was swept up in hopeful and calming thoughts for the future. Of all the hardships between the mainland and Taiwan in the past decades, I thought of the recent developments for freer trade and how big of a deal it was when China and Taiwan agreed to have direct flights between Shanghai and Taipei (for so long, you had to transfer flights via Hong Kong). “Nostalgia for the Future” seems to remind us of what’s going on on the other side of the Taiwan strait, and reminds us that these friendly faces staring back at you through the lense of Juan is a gesture of outreach and an unveiling of many tense and divided decades.

The EPSON gallery is a fresh space with spot-on lighting that made Juan's photos come alive. The EPSON gallery is definitely worth a visit if you get the chance.



(Photo courtesy of epSITE Imaging Gallery in Shanghai: http://www.epson.com.cn/epsite/shanghai/index.html)

The exhibition “Nostalgia for the Future” runs from April 10, 2009 To May 19, 2009.

RMB City, Second Life, and the Future of Art by Daniel Kekacs

Daniel Kekacs

June 4, 2009

The Search for Real Meaning in Virtual Reality:

RMB City, Second Life, and the Future of Art

Creating a complex, interactive video game might be considered the
ultimate exercise in interdisciplinarity. The physical terrain must
first be constructed: sandy beaches, mountainous tundra, lush jungles,
fertile fields, fetid swamps, arid grasslands, and desolate wastes
flow like a palette of colors into one another and back again, forming
a seamless, logical, and hopefully realistic world. Defining
characteristics can be added next – moss-covered rocks, trees with
drooping vines, bales of hay, roads, and flowers, gradually giving way
to the addition of actual structures. Commonly, the type of people who
will inhabit these structures or the physical environment in which
they are located contribute greatly to the thematic mood and
architectural design of the buildings: nomadic people live in straw
huts in the grasslands, reclusive wizards live in spired castles
frosted with snow, and evil witches wear the skins of animals they
killed in the swamps, etc. But this is just the graphical, visual-arts
dimension of a video game. Once the entire world has been created,
even filled with doodads, textures, and thematic hues, the world still
feels one-dimensional. A story must be invented – who lives here, what
is their livelihood, what motivates them to go about their lives, from
what do they draw comfort, inspiration, and meaning? What are their
future hopes and greatest fears? Finally, a third element can be
introduced to further augment the quality of the world: sound. Music,
whether dark and foreboding or loud and triumphant, is but one element
to be considered, although it is certainly the most influential.
Insects chirp at night, waves wash against the shore, wind howls
through snowy crevasses and water bubbles through shady streams. Each
element – the graphics, the music, and the story – must complement one
another precisely in order to achieve an effect as fully realistic and
as fully immersive as possible. Without ultimate perfection in each of
these fields, a virtual world could not possibly hope to fulfill the
players who will inhabit it or maintain their interest for more than a
little while. After all, if the virtual world isn't perfectly
enjoyable, why would anyone want to remain in it instead of the real
world? At least, this is what I thought, until I encountered the
bizarre creation known as Second Life.

Created in 2003, Second Life has none of the elements
I've come to expect from a "role playing" game, fantasy or otherwise.
To be frank, the gameplay is chunky, the graphics are cheesy, and
there's no music to speak of, though there are occasional sound
effects. How can I feel like I'm surfing if I can't hear the waves?
But the fundamental difference between Second Life and other popular
role playing games, like World of Warcraft, The Sims, Everquest, Final
Fantasy, Ultima Online, and the Elder Scrolls, isn't that play in
Second Life occurs entirely online (some of these games are for single
players only, others must be played online with others). It has to do
with the way that content is presented to the player. In Second Life,
the player literally has complete freedom to do and create whatever
they want, a power that is at once both limiting and incredibly
liberating. Games like World of Warcraft, however expansive, beautiful
and comprehensive, force upon players a single story, a single world,
and a single way of interacting with that world and the other players
who inhabit it. Even with all the freedom that these role playing
games promise, none can grant the freedom one can enjoy in Second
Life. If you are the sort of person who happens to like a pre-
constructed world, or who is lucky enough to find that another's
conception of visual or aural beauty agrees with your own, then you
might never feel an urge to explore Second Life. This is especially
true if you are lacking in a creative imagination or skill with
computer graphical design – and I happen to fall into both of these
categories. But even as frustrated as I can become with Second Life's
inability to immerse me completely, and even though I could argue that
the game literally has no point, I can wholeheartedly admit that its
potential is great.

I am no "noob" (newbie, or newcomer) to the underground
world of role playing games, online or offline, single player or
multiplayer. In the Elder Scrolls I've saved entire races from
malicious gods (multiple times, all by myself), I've raised countless
families and built many mansions for myself in The Sims (I only cheat
sometimes), and every once in a while my father and I still fight for
the Horde against the armies of the Alliance in World of Warcraft,
although lately the undead Lich King has become a more dangerous
threat. Over the course of our years playing computer games (I still
very much consider myself a casual gamer, although my dad more and
more defends himself by claiming, "I'm just good at what I do"), we
have had several serious discussions about the ultimate value of
playing video games, and while I won't claim to have reached a
conclusion, I do have some well-defined thoughts on the subject. I
know next to nothing about economics, but the best way I can explain
the value of video games is as an investment: the ultimate price of a
video game is the amount of time you invest playing it. At certain
times of the day, or during certain parts of the year, investing that
time in other activities is more beneficial than spending it playing
video games, whether in terms of your social, physical, or mental
health. Sometimes the question is easy: "Should I spend an hour
fishing by myself in virtual reality, or spend an hour fishing with my
uncle at our favorite spot this one last time before the cancer takes
him away?" (Hypothetical.) Other times, the question is simply shades
of gray. Unfortunately, it ultimately becomes a matter of how much you
have invested in a certain game. The more time you've spent within a
particular world, the more time you will have ultimately wasted if you
suddenly decide that it is better for your marriage or your schoolwork
if you quit playing altogether. So it becomes a dual issue: you must
not only invest your time sensibly, but make sure that you are getting
reasonable returns on your investment. If playing a particular video
game isn't fun anymore, you are wasting your time. But if my father
and I enjoy spending an hour or two once or twice a week wandering
around World of Warcraft together, I think that is a justified use of
my time. I am interacting with other people, whatever the interface,
and more importantly, I am deriving enjoyment from the thing I am doing.

Interestingly, through my travels in Second Life and my
interactions with players there, I came to realize that for some
people, it is not necessarily an enjoyment of virtual life that drives
them to play online games, but rather a profound unhappiness with
their real lives. I spent about four days floating around Second Life
before I discovered that every character had a public profile that
other people could read. By this point I had already begun to assemble
my impressions about Second Life, the worlds that comprise it and the
people that inhabit it, but I will come to that later. On this fourth
day, on a virtual island of Oahu, Hawaii, walking down the docks to
vote in the Miss Tropic Hawaiian 2009 beauty pageant (the girls'
photos were displayed on walls nearby, and I couldn't tell if they
were real or virtual), I happened to find a woman sitting on a couch
on the dock. Her name was Delanna Anatra, and this is her profile:
"Sadly divorced, Live in Florida. Letting SL save me as i survive the
death of my parents. Thanks Second Life as I can finally laugh again,
without the help of my doctors prescribtions.

Pending a surgery I am afraid to have. Sl makes life fun again."

While the skeptic in me grated at the almost cliché nature of this
profile, I had just ended nearly three hours of wandering around the
most popular parts of Second Life and the "Showcase" areas, and seen
next to no one. I was feeling lonely and pessimistic because of my
experiences in a virtual reality, and I wasn't about to question the
legitimacy of this woman's actual reality. Delanna seemed absorbed in
thought as I stood nearby reading her profile, and I was reluctant to
disturb her. I teleported to Rome instead.

My encounters with other people were not more meaningful or uplifting.
I met my first friend, named Grave Rumble, flying around a beautiful
garden world named Botanica. I had already given up trying to meet
people in RMB City, and was going through a random player's Top 5
favorite places list that I'd found online. When I met Grave Rumble, I
was overcome with joy. "How come second life always feels so empty?" I
immediately asked. "I don't know. I don't see too many people," he
replied. Not sure what else to talk about, and not ready to get too
personal, I asked him if he had ever been here before. "No, I fell off
my friend's island, and now I don't know how to get back :( " and
later confided, "ur actually the first person ive talked to other than
my friend." A poignant image of this boy (or man, or whatever) falling
out of the sky and landing in some strange land full of people he
didn't know flashed through my head, and I thought of Dorothy from the
Wizard of Oz, but with scuffed black boots instead of magical ruby
slippers. "You should get a new texture for your eyes," he suddenly
told me. "Like this." I looked closer at his eyes: "They're black?"
"Nah, if you look closer its actually chain-link." I told him it
looked kind of creepy. "That's the point."

We flew around another minute or two, our conversational ability
exhausted. Finally, he asked me, "hey, I gotta go, but can I add you
as a friend?" Why not? If this doesn't count as friendship, then what
does? I said, "Sure." I haven't heard from him since.

As I said before, the islands of Second Life are not as exciting or
full of people as I thought they would be. Some like Botanica are
forest oases, and the emptiness feels peaceful. But in Paris, Rome,
and the one Celtic village I rode a motorcycle through, it felt more
like a post-apocalyptic universe than any utopia I would want to live
in. Where were all the people? The more beautiful and complex the
city, the more uncomfortable I felt wandering its empty streets,
passing hollow shops and riding empty metros. I do not know if you are
familiar with Shanghai's nearby European-themed cities, but I visited
the Northern European-themed city with a friend, and have also seen
pictures of Thames Town, the bizarre replica of London. Both seem to
be completely deserted. In the town I visited, all of the spaces set
aside for stores or cafés had unopened letters that had been slipped
under the door, everything was covered with dust, and it seemed
unlikely to ever open. I couldn't help but remember this feeling of
being in a ghost town as I wandered the empty streets of Second Life
Paris:

Rome was a similar experience, although the poorer attention to detail
on buildings and the lack of "little things" made it feel less like an
empty city than simply an unfinished diorama.

I wound up in the Celtic village a few days later because I was trying
to find worlds with hot-air balloon rides, but I was pleasantly
surprised to find a motorcycle waiting for me. All of the buildings
turned out to be stores where people were peddling objects they had
rendered or clothes they had designed, but of course nobody was
present – you can simply click and purchase items, if you have the
money.

Yesterday while searching for a world with a hang glider, I found
myself in Panta ta Ethne, which was an Egyptian-themed island, or so I
thought. It was one of the most beautiful places I have visited,
columns and sphinxes and pyramids galore, although when I tried to
ride the crocodile, a script had been written that made it appear as
if the crocodile were eating me! He growled and said something to me
about being stupid, but I just clicked "stand up" and was magically
out of his stomach. Something about the look of the papyrus reeds and
riverside dwelling nearby felt oddly familiar, until I heard a baby
crying, and I knew immediately that I had stumbled upon Moses, or a
world devoted to Moses, or at least something related to Christianity.
I noticed frogs hopping all around me; when my mouse flashed over one,
text popped up that read, "Want to know why there are so many frogs?
Click here!" I was pretty sure I already knew why. Before the locusts
could come, I ran away from the screaming baby until I hit the beach,
rode a surfboard (then an orca whale!), before moving on to explore
other parts of the island. I soon stumbled upon ominous signposts that
read, "Sick of Real Life? Click for some hope," "Loneliness. Can it be
cured? Click for notecard," and "Depressed? Learn about the Causes and
Cures." I clicked on them all, but either someone was playing a cruel
joke, or something script wasn't working anymore.

I had already made up my mind to leave when I spotted the last sign:
"Did this happen by accident? Click here." I'm pretty sure they
weren't referring to Second Life.

Although I already knew Second Life granted users freedom limited only
by their imagination, I realized in Panta ta Ethne that in this
virtual reality, people could literally do whatever they wanted. The
game even has features that enable users to embed audio and video into
certain locations, which is why I am now able to take you to the exact
place where the Dead Sea Scrolls were hidden (but I'll need an
internet connection and a Second Life account to show you). Whatever
your agenda, Second Life is a tool to use as you wish, which exactly
what Cao Fei's has done with RMB City.

Unlike "MAO – The Land of the Great Wall of China," a picturesque
world with an abbreviated but beautiful replication of the Great Wall
(plus a few rice paddies for authenticity), RMB City does not aim to
be a physical reflection of China or Chinese culture. In fact, most
worlds that I visited strove to be as beautiful as possible, but RMB
City is more of an abstract sculpture. Cranes fly in the sky, a Mao
statue sits tilted in the ocean, liquid pollution flows out of pipes
into streams while red and white striped smokestacks belch clouds of
smoke into the sky, something like the Imperial City in Beijing floats
high above the city, and above it all is a giant panda, suspended by a
crane that rests on the CCTV building. It's a jumble bits of pieces,
and I know there are plenty of "quirks" I haven't found yet, but its
more authentically Chinese than anything other Chinese world I
explored. While not exactly an inhabitable city, RMB City functions
more as a statement of contemporary Chinese issues than a place where
random Chinese Second Life players would be likely to come and say,
"Cool, I'm in China!" (Much like I did in Paris.)

To be honest, RMB City was one of the least interesting places I
discovered in Second Life. It was completely devoid of life, there
were no sharks or hang gliders to ride on, and the mayor's speech,
presumably defining the immediate purpose and goals of the city, was
vague at best:

"The stimulus package I am proposing has 3 parts: create jobs, offer
aid to those who need it the most, and stimulate the minds of our
fellow avatar citizens… Thousands are losing their jobs, people are
not spending, and our streets and buildings are deserted…We must now
act on a broad stimulus package to bring prosperity back to RMB City
and its avatar citizens…The time for talk is over. The time for action
is now! Let us learn our lesson: continue your excesses, not on
borrowing and spending, but on dreams and ideas instead!" – RMB City
Mayor Alan Lau

But as much as it fails at being a functional city – and was that ever
its intent? – I think it most effectively answers the question of what
the future of virtual worlds like Second Life can or will be. As I
mentioned before, constructed worlds are always confronted with the
difficulty of staying relevant and engaging to those who inhabit them.
RMB City addresses this issue by directly portraying real-life issues
in the virtual world of Second Life: it is not inventing narratives or
problems, but rather presenting them in a completely new medium,
allowing people to confront and question these issues at times and in
ways they never would have before.

Second Life could very easily become a new medium for integrating art
more seamlessly with our daily lives. I once searched broadly for
MOCA, and while I didn't find a museum, I did discover a world where a
man was selling his collection of Botticellis. RMB City is currently
hosting an exhibition within Second Life; although the project can be
viewed externally, it can only be experienced fully by avatars within
the game. Entrance is of course free, and available at any time of
day. Museums could easily construct Second Life extensions, and
immediately become accessible to any of its 15 million registered users.

But from my personal experiences and interactions in Second Life, the
purpose of the game seems, at least for now, to be a tool for lonely
people to add some excitement into their lives. I scoured many more
profiles, and while none were quite as heart-wrenching as the Florida
woman's I did stumble across on in Portuguese. Unable to speak the
language, I was forced to run it through Google Translate. When Jessy
Zardak is playing Second Life, this is the message she has chosen to
give to the rest of the virtual world:

is sad…….

It is not easy, not thinking of you
It is not easy, it is strange
Not tell you my plans, do not you find
All day in the morning while I take my coffee bitter
is still a day but faith you have in my hand
Actually, I need to learn
It is not easy, not easy

Where do you come, where are you?
Every time I leave I see you prepare for perhaps
Actually I need to forget
It is not easy, not easy

fica trissssssssssssssssssssssssssssssste

Não é fácil, não pensar em você

Não é fácil, é estranho

Não te contar meus planos, não te encontrar

Todo o dia de manhã enquanto eu tomo o meu café amargo

é, ainda boto fé de um dia te ter ao meu lado

Na verdade, eu preciso aprender

Não é fácil, não é fácil

Onde você anda, onde está você?

Toda a vez que eu saio me preparo para talvez te ver

Na verdade eu preciso esquecer

Não é fácil, não é fácil

The translation is rough, but the meaning comes through. And I am not
the only one to find undertones of emptiness and sadness in my Second
Life travels. For the 52nd Venice Biennale, Cao Fei created the short
film i.Mirror, chronicling her experiences in the virtual world.
Created with footage shot in Second Life, the film is just under 30
minutes long, and comprised of three parts: the first presents the
rampant capitalization and consumerism in Second Life, a trend not
limited to our own reality, while the second and third deal with the
feelings of loneliness that many people feel both in their real lives
and in their Second Lives. The best part, although it feels heavily
scripted, is part II:

http://coolkidsonly.org/0_o.php/882190/8b85f7/b52Oi8/vd3d3L/nlvdXR/1YmUuY/29tL3d/hdGNoP/3Y9akQ/4eVpoT/VdrdzA/mZmVhd/HVyZT1/yZWxhd/GVk/
China Tracy, Cao's avatar in Second Life, accompanies her friend/
partner "Hug Yue" through empty streets, while their piano duet plays
hauntingly in the background. "Why you enjoy SL?" asks China Tracy. "I
am looking for something, I think," replies Hug Yue, "But I don't know
what." "Forgot your pain?" continues China. "I suppose SL is a drug,"
comes the reply. Their stunted dialogue and the distance between these
two acquaintances further emphasized by China's broken English, only
reinforces the distance between their Second Lives and their
realities. "There is a cross-over between RL and SL," explains Hug,
"as you know, it is hard to separate feelings." As their feelings of
affection become slightly more developed, the pair are seen running
towards a dead end road, but a fence blocks their way. They cannot
jump to either freedom or death, as the chase camera angle would
suggest. Instead, they simply stop at the fence, and stare at the sign
"Bridge Out." Eating dinner against the background of New York City,
China asks, "What do you think it about the digital world?" "It's one
that is dominated by youth, by beauty, and money. And it's all an
illusion." Finally, the handsome Hug reveals that he is in fact in his
60s: "So there you are. I am old enough to be your father." China
seems unfazed: "Well, in SL, we are young forever." "Yes," Hug
concludes, "another illusion…"

Enjoying the rides in an amusement park I thought was
abandoned, I suddenly discovered myself in a water ride with another
woman. "Is second life always this empty?" I asked her.

"Not if you have friends."