August 21, 2005: [achtung! kunst] *exhibition review* Tokyo - Mori Art Museum: "Follow Me!" "China: Crossroads of Culture" |
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Though certainly not among the planet's freest countries, China has nevertheless managed to develop a very positive international profile. At least part of this PR success can be laid at the door of exhibitions like "Follow Me!" and its companion, "China: Crossroads of Culture," both now under way at Tokyo's Mori Art Museum in a one-ticket-covers-both arrangement. While the latter show presents elegant artifacts from ancient China, "Follow Me!" showcases the humor, inventiveness and apparent freedom of speech of the contemporary scene. Between them, they create a cozy impression of the country. "Follow Me!" takes its name from a large photographic print by Wang Qingsong. This shows the artist in teacher mode pointing to a gigantic blackboard, on which are scrawled some company logos and countless expressions in both Chinese and English, many of which seem contradictory. To a Western audience, this seems to reflect globalization and the debate that's supposed to be raging in this fast-changing land. Other works also give an impression of a society where criticism, debate and humor are not only tolerated but flourish. Lu Hao's "Building Dodgem" (2001) uses acrylic models of newly built skyscrapers set on toy bulldozers operated by visitors to parody the caprices of China's urban planners and comment on the country's fast-changing urban landscape. Yang Zhenzhong's video installation "922 Rice Corns" (2000) uses a competition between a rooster and a hen to eat the titular 922 rice grains to highlight rising sexual tensions in a society where the theoretical sexual equality of communism has been replaced by more complex gender roles. Both of these works refer to aspects of China's economic transformation, which, oddly in view of the power of the state in initiating and directing it, is presented as something external and with a will of its own. This is the impression given by Weng Fen's photographic print "Sitting on the Wall-Shenzen No. 1" (2002), in which a young girl, possibly symbolizing China itself, appears to be at the mercy of the economic forces that have thrown up the glittering cityscape beyond. Even Cao Fei's hilarious video installation "Hip Hop" (2003), in which people improvise dance moves, often with a tai chi accent, suggests the passivity and malleability of China in the face of outside forces, in this case Western hip-hop music. Although these works grow out of a distinctly Chinese experience, they nevertheless have a strong universal appeal. One of the show's curators, Mami Kataoka, is quick to hail this lack of parochialism. "It differs from our previous exhibition of Asian art, `The Elegance of Silence,'" she says. "That focused on artists using traditional elements from their cultures. But although this art is about China, it is not intrinsically Chinese." This is certainly true of Yin Xiuzhen's "Portable Cities," in which secondhand clothing, rags and street sounds recorded in various urban areas are used to create a miniature city inside a suitcase, including "Portable City-Tokyo" (2005), which reduces the Japanese capital to a few cute stuffed buildings. This is art about the world that could have come from anywhere. It just happened to come from China. Kataoka draws parallels with earlier Japanese artists. "Just as Japanese artists such as Takashi Murakami, Yoshitomo Nara and Mariko Mori have, since the 1990s, established their own identities as individual players rather than as members of the `Japanese team,'" she says, "individual artists in China are being similarly and increasingly recognized." As Kataoka admits, however, Chinese artists remain marginal figures in their homeland and are more likely to be feted in Tokyo and the West. "They cannot be really influential in stopping the speed of
economic development," she says. "But they are showing an
ambiguity of mind concerning it." http://www.asahi.com/english/Herald-asahi/TKY200508190066.html
__________________ with kind regards, Matthias Arnold
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