Christine Huang investigates whether contemporary art in Shanghai lives up to its growing reputation.
The world of contemporary art is not invulnerable to economic forces, and this is nowhere more apparent than here in commercially minded Shanghai. What was once limited to the purview of elite artists and culture vultures has become an open marketplace for a growing number of artists and connoisseurs to buy and sell.
In the last three years, and at an ever growing rate, Shanghai has witnessed the emergence of a handful of large-scale modern and contemporary art museums, along with the openings and expansions of more than a dozen new galleries and alternative art spaces. This growth matches the increase of international recognition Chinese artists have garnered in recent years which has lured aesthetes and collectors to Shanghai to reap the benefits.
Though its evolution began more than a decade ago, the Shanghai contemporary art scene entered a new era with the opening of the Duolun Museum of Modern Art in 2003. The unveiling of the Duolun, self-styled as the “first professional modern museum of contemporary art in China;” signified Shanghai’s emergence as an important player in the international art world. The non-profit, government-funded museum has already presented groundbreaking exhibitions featuring both foreign and local works, including a Basquiat retrospective earlier this year and China’s first group printing exhibition in 2004. Biljana Ciric, former Director of the Curatorial Department at Duolun, now sees the opening of the museum as a significant moment in the development of the contemporary art, even beyond China: “In the last three years, museums have flourished in Shanghai… Twenty years ago, there weren’t very many contemporary art hubs. Now, there is a multitude. The art community is global, multi-city, multi-centered…Indian, Thai, Korean, Chinese centers are building – it is the shift from the center-periphery concept to the multi-centered – that is the important transformation in the last 10 years.”
Following the opening of the Duolun came the arrival of the Zendai Museum of Modern Art in spring of 2005, the first art museum to be built in Pudong as well as the city’s first completely private art museum. Though separate entities, the Duolun and Zendai are frequent collaborators and share a director, Shen Qibin. The Zendai, located in the Zheng Da Big Thumb Plaza, is known for its mixed-media exhibitions, like the ambitious “ElectroScape: International New Media Art” show it held in 2005.
Rounding out the major additions to the art scene was the long-awaited unveiling of the Museum of Contemporary Art, Shanghai, in September 2005 at People’s Square. As “Shanghai’s first private and non-profit museum,” it flexed its muscles by opening with a retrospective of works by Pierre et Gilles, the French duo known for their provocative and pop culture-laden photographs. The introduction of the museum was flanked by openings and re-vampings of several other noteworthy spaces, including the Zhu Qizhan Art Museum, the second 1918 Art Space exhibition area, the relocated ShanghART Gallery, and Da>space, Shanghai’s first art gallery (as well as studio and shop) focusing on urban art. The emergence of alternative spaces like these along with the ambitious MOCA Shanghai capped off a momentous three-year period of rapid change in the cultural backdrop of the city, reflecting the rise of Shanghai (and China) as a significant force in the art world.
While aficionados, collectors and traders take advantage of this new crop of offerings, art makers and intelligentsia have developed differing viewpoints on how capricious market forces are affecting the quality of Chinese contemporary artwork being produced. Zhao Yonggang, Director of 1918 Art Space, sees the booming market and the ignorance of much of the new audience as contributing to the decline in the creativity and craftsmanship of many artists’ work. “People like to use art as a background – it’s what’s popular. But a lot of people don’t know anything about it. People in cities – in Shanghai – they see a lot of things but don’t understand them. They don’t know what ‘art quality’ is.” Zhao contends that many young artists have begun catering to the interests of (mostly foreign) buyers, losing sight of their own identities and voices in order to accommodate the hackneyed themes that foreigner buyers expect. “Artists are doing what customers like. They are not creating from their hearts.”
History hardly supports Zhao’s argument. An injection of cash, even from clueless foreign buyers, normally gives artists greater freedom to express themselves, not less – artists don’t have to starve, or use money as a reason to be lazy. Indeed, Biljana Ciric has not lost faith in the works and intentions of the serious contemporary artists in Shanghai. She agrees that most collectors are foreign, and that some artists are producing work with themes that “ buyers (especially foreigners) are looking for – statements on China, reflections of what it means to be Chinese.” But overall, she remains confident that the promising young artists are motivated more by the desire for self-expression than marketability: “[Artists] are still sticking to their artistic visions. [Political issues] are not the only thing Chinese artists want to discuss… It is becoming increasingly important for them to be recognized in the international art scene not as Chinese artists first, but as artists.” She points to the growing currency of alternative media (performance, video, installation art) which are traditionally less sellable than painting and sculpture as proof that artists aren’t putting profits before their craft.
And some, like Victoria Lu, the creative director behind MOCA Shanghai, have taken a pragmatic yet positive stance. A founding board member of the Taipei Contemporary Art Museum and a long-standing veteran of the modern art scene, Lu believes this stage in the development of a contemporary art community and market in China is organic and has been witnessed before in other cities at other times in history. She says quite simply, “Art is for sale – this is nothing new; it has been happening for centuries, even in the Renaissance… Only in the last century with Modernism have we encountered the idea of art for art’s sake. Finally, China has an art market – [its] blooming doesn’t surprise me; it’s only the beginning.” And the infancy of the market, she contends, should not be a cause for concern: “Some people worry that Chinese art prices are too high, that this is a bubble. I’m not worried. The Chinese market is just starting to have a taste…” Art, like other industries, is simply obeying market forces, Lu argues, and young Chinese art artists are merely following suit. “Artists have to make a living. Why condemn the artists who have their art for sale? Only if we have more people participating in the marketplace will we have diversity in the production of works – this is healthier.”
It can be difficult to predict how expanding investment in the contemporary art market will shape the works coming out of Shanghai, a city whose identity is so inextricably linked with commerce and commoditization. Though experts might not agree on what direction the Shanghai art world is heading, most come to a consensus about one thing – how very young it is. With another contemporary art gallery set to open in the new World Financial Center upon its completion in 2008, even more widespread international attention will be drawn to the blossoming scene. Also slated for 2008 is the opening of an “art hotel” by the collective mind (and money) behind Zendai, the Zheng Da Group. It will include a 108,000-square-foot museum and will also be located in Pudong. And just last September, the sixth Shanghai Biennale introduced over 90 artists from over 30 countries including China to a welcoming audience made up of both locals and foreigners
As Eddie Yip, one of the creative directors of Da<space, remarks about the evolution of urban art in Shanghai, “[Street art] began with a lot of Western influence, and there is still a lot of mimicry, but distinct voices are evolving. Artists are trying to narrow down their own personal styles, but we are still on a learning curve.” It is evident that this is the only the first chapter in the new history of the Shanghai art world, and that while the art community has undergone unprecedented growth in last few years, there is still a lot of room to grow. But this should be approached head-on and with no fear, as Victoria Lu assures: “The art scene in China is getting more interesting…This is only the beginning. I don’t understand why people are so worried. We are just a baby.”
