On the world stage of contemporary art, China has received much attention particularly over the past decade or so. Artists in one role act as chroniclers of change and, to much interest, the artists from China have been producing powerful work which reflects the shifts the country has been undergoing in its rise as an economic superpower.
In 2010, China overtook Japan as the world’s second largest economy and predictions are that it will overtake the US as the top economy in 10 to 20 years. It has been undergoing phenomenal growth in the past few decades and its voracious appetite for development means shifts on many levels, from the global, regional and local scale. Its ascent economically means change social and culturally as well. Only recently, news articles reported that China’s urban population has lately surpassed its rural one. Frequently cited with these reports is the prediction of the Nobel prize-winning economist Joseph Stiglitz, of China’s urbanization as being one of the two major keys which will deeply influence this 21st century.
In contemplating China’s rapid urbanization, the works of Yang Fudong easily come to mind. Born in 1971 and based in Shanghai, Fudong, who is known in particular for his film and video, has made a number of works on the metropolis and the white-collar worker, having experienced being one himself years ago. His experimental short film, Liu Lan (2003), shows the clash between rural and urban as a business-suited man comes to the countryside and meets a girl from there. His earlier work, I Love My Motherland (1999), shows people amidst the cityscape while City Light (2000) depicts the office worker as caught between the enactment of ritual and fantasy. His works, which can be somehow narrative, act as slips through which viewers must interpret, the absence of full disclosure inciting feelings of alienation, as in his unforgettable Estranged Paradise (1997-2002). The significance of Fudong’s work is underscored in a New York Times article noting that global companies have been making a more aggressive push into China, even moving some of their research and development centers to there. Urban life will only continue to grow as well as the changes which come along with city life.
A few years ago, the curator Hou Hanru described Chinese contemporary art as “‘inventing’ itself in the face of a reality that has been constantly and radically mutating since the early 1980s, when China started opening itself up to the world. It has been culturally, socially and politically engaged with the struggle for freedom.” Particularly in the past year, this kind of statement finds such a figure in Ai Wei Wei, who is probably the most well-known Chinese contemporary artist today.
Detained by Chinese authorities in 2011 with later alleged tax evasion charges, Ai Weiwei is certain that his seizure was due to his political activity. He has been openly critical of the government and has conducted investigations such as the collapse of schoolhouses during the 2008 Sichuan earthquake wherein more than 5,000 students died. In 2007, his contribution to Documenta, one of the most important exhibitions of contemporary art which happens every five years in Kassel, Germany, involved bringing 1,001 Chinese citizens to Kassel throughout the exhibition period. Applying through Weiwei’s blog, a majority of those selected were those who would otherwise have never had the opportunity to experience a foreign country. As the artist himself noted, the work, called “Fairytale,” and the laborious process of its realization became emblematic of social, political and economic factors of present-day China as it reckons with its meeting of the West. The daunting number of 1,001 also mirrors China’s massive population while pointing as well to the individual experience and dream of each Chinese in this new worldscape.
Weiwei uses social media like Sina Weibo (the Chinese Twitter) for communication, his activism and art intertwined. In an interview with newsmagazine Der Spiegel that was published last November, Weiwei memorably noted of his definition of art, “(It) has always been the same. It is about freedom of expression, a new way of communication. It is never about exhibiting in museums or about hanging it on the wall. Art should live in the heart of the people. Ordinary people should have the same ability to understand art as anybody else. I don’t think art is elite or mysterious. I don’t think anybody can separate art from politics. The intention to separate art from politics is itself a very political intention… In China they treat art as some form of decoration, a self-indulgence. It is pretending to be art. It looks like art. It sells like art. But it is really a piece of shit.”
Weiwei’s comments should certainly sober those who are merely looking to Chinese art for investment. Mostly referring to paintings, an article last year in The Economist called the Chinese contemporary art market “the wild wild world” and characterized it as “extremely volatile.” A Reuters article which appeared last week cautions against buyers buying Chinese contemporary art indiscriminately, with fears of a bubble looming. The focus of China’s role in the global contemporary art scene will only intensify in the coming years. Yet, the interest shown in Chinese art and the kind of Chinese art being patronized should be guided by the Chinese proverb “Ye Gong Hao Long.” This refers to a man who was fascinated by dragons, decorating his whole house with dragon designs. Yet, he was terrified to encounter a dragon in real life.
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The author’s projects and writings are at http://writelisawrite.blogspot.com. She may be contacted at letterstolisa@gmail.com.