Thursday, May 22, 2008

Zhan Wang Stainless Stealing himself into history, Acronyminizing all the way to the end of the world and how I covered the Earth Quake




Zhan
Wang launched his first solo show in China since 1994 with a tremendous bang! Not only did his stainless steel ‘Garden Utopia’ fill all three bottom floors of NAMOC (National Museum of China) but a symposium entitled ‘Sculptural Intervention – Zhan Wang and Garden Utopia’ hosted by Long March Foundation and attended by a bunch of flown-in media and academics types occupied the entire following day at CAFA (Central Academy of Fine Arts). The sleepy symposium brought me back to the last time I had seen Zhan Wang’s work which was in Louis Vuitton’s Hong Kong citadel. Amongst 40,000 dollar leather bags and 400,000 dollar limited edition wrist watches was indeed a 250,000 dollar Zhan Wang stainless steel scholar rock … as I eyed in on the title plaque I was quickly distracted by a cockroach the size of a pigeon being chased out the door by a well dressed security guard, funny how LV’s projected pinnacle of sophistication was being intervened, not so much by this lumpy piece of stainless steel-which was clearly added décor to some marketing executive’s wet dream of cultivated “taste” but by this mammoth critter who evaded the pointed leather shoes of several security guards and crawled under a display case. This episode and more was racing through my mind as the official and unofficial reps of contemporary art history searched for intelligent and polite things to say about Zhan Wang’s work which hadn’t significantly changed since his last solo show some fourteen years ago.
Lisa Corrin (WMCA lecturer) who delicately and intelligently placed the work in the context of “western” art history by positioning it somewhere between Brancusi (the scholar rocks) and Duchamp (the stainless steel pots and pans installation). All in all no one was really talking to each other, instead they were talking around each other especially when Caoimhin Mac Giolla Leith (and I thought my name was hard to pronounce) got on and pontificated about the suitability of T.S. Eliot’s 1922 essay ‘Tradition and the Individual Talent’ in discussing ZW’s work and CCA (Chinese Contemporary Art) in general. Especially in terms of Eliot’s prescription that new must arise from tradition… meanwhile people were napping, fiddling with their cell phones and testing their translation headsets, which was rather funny because a word that kept coming up throughout the symposium as a point of contention was “western” “in quotes”. While the “western” has inflected and infected discourse about CCA from way before the getgo (and continues to be a point of contention for most CC practitioners even as CCA ads occupy a large portion of ART Forum, auction prices continue to spire and exhibitions get mounted in every corner of the planet) no one was really interested in what the westerner was saying. As the mic was being passed for the umpteenth time and most of the panelists who had already spoke had found their way to the WC - the earthquake hit. It went unnoticed in this one storey conference room but had we been at the brand spanking new super Goliath AMCAFA (Art Museum of Central Academy of Fine Arts) like we were after lunch we might’ve noticed. Standing amongst a bunch of Swiss donated plaster Greek sculptures the director announced that this Isozaki Arata designed edifice is for significant solo shows as Lisa, Megan Connolly (AAA Beijing rep) Richard Vine (editor, Art in America) Britta Erickson (longtime CCA curator/historian) all ooohed and ahhhed at the super expansive white concaves that made up this 5 storey labyrinth.

While the design was knock dead the construction was questionable with plasterboard seams, and leaks starting to show. Unbeknown to us a 6.8 quake was busting up Sichuan province.
It wasn’t until 6am the next morning that I got a surprising call from CBS News in Tokyo asking me to go edit news clips in Chengdu. 6am. Beijing beering the night before. Tongue tied by the pseudo art academia claptrap I’d been consuming for the last two days AND not having been in the TV News biz for at least 10 years I said “well, call me back in 10”. It was Rick Widmer, my old video buddy, Today Art Museum Video production dept. director and Zhan Wang camera man (who two nights ago gave me the camera to film the intoxicated dance performance duo of super star painters Yue Minjun and Chen Wenbo… hard to tell who was leading) who passed CBS my name.
SO I went figuring ‘what the hell? a little real adventure after all this fictitious artworld tedium will sober me up”- or tried to go – I sat in the airport for 13 hours before the plane was allowed to take off. Chengdu airport had been reserved for flying in emergency supplies and workers. As the press core and all the Sichuanese desperate to go home and check on everyone’s safety sat glued to the XL flat screen TVs that were generously distributed throughout Beijing’s brand spanking new (for the Olympics from Norman Foster) Terminal No. 3 the news little by little unveiled the gravity of the situation. School children, entire towns, cracking dams. A world beseiged and ultimately betrayed by its architecture. Having just fathered a son- I could only think of not wanting to leave him for a few hundred dollars and some adventure in a danger zone.
But Chengdu was safe- except for a few shocking aftershocks that, up on the 15th floor of the hotel, had me thinking if I’d actually feel anything once the roof collapsed Or if I hid under the bed? Should I take a water bottle, my computer?
Tents had been set up everywhere in town as the early morning saw messy haired civilians carrying blankets back to their cars or maybe back inside for a brief minute. Fear of the unknown paralyzed this southern town. I only had two days – had to get back for another job waiting in Shanghai (thank god would still be there otherwise) but the very nice but slightly confused CBS folks needed someone and I gladly went for the 2 days. Experts say that after 72 hours finding survivors isn’t hopeful. People usually cannot survive without water for that long… it rained often which complicated and, some others argued, assisted rescue efforts. I left around the 72nd hour and returned to a bustling Shanghai as the echo of the earthquake roared on in the media. In China Wen Jiabao was figure-headed as the governmental face of the rescue efforts. He appeared with victims and crew everywhere shaking hands, looking concerned, pointing at maps of the inaccessible far reaches of this rugged frontier (ala Rudy Guilliano during 911). In the western media everyone was looking for faults: faulty construction, faulty response time, unheeded warnings… always looking for the preconceived shit that international audiences (reared on their own propaganda) thrives on. China did a fine job. China has a zillion natural disasters a year and so they were as prepared as possible.
Now along with everybody everywhere the CCA world with its venues throughout the world are auctioning off artworks in support the survivors and effected… One artist put her piece up on the web and said she’d give 40% of proceeds to the Earth Quake cause. A Generous 40%.
Which brings me to the sober warning that it is not the end of the world as you may think (even more so in China with all these numerologists collecting data that points to the Beijing Olympics in August as utterly doomed) The world is actually in one of its most peaceful eras known to history according to Fareed Zakaria who says that it’s not so much the events as the immediate and incessant reportage that makes it seem like things are going beserk- when some one farts in Timbuktu CNN.BBC.CBS.CCTV.ZDF are all there with there cameras, crew and contortionist correspondent spewing end of the world rhetoric at us while we sit at home clenched to the remote waiting for the inevitable, quickly encroaching end of it all .

Thursday, May 15, 2008

CK in HK, Underwear Overhead



The reason that Calvin Klein underwear (and outerwear and everywear of most hi-fashion brands) costs so much is that you are paying for their ad campaigns.

Hong Kong has a building, 30 stories or so high, plastered entirely with a Calvin Klein underwear advert. The (un-dressed) decorated shed. A big black man and his fruit basket stares down at all the skinny, LV bag toting Asian chicks gabbing away on their iPhones as they ride by on the tram- equally enveloped in fashion ads.
What does it all mean? Architecture so overtly besieged, Consumer desire so extremely exploited, Public Space so overrun by a market’s orgiastic overspill… What is the end game of advertising’s continual subjugation of the urban inhabitant?

Monday, April 7, 2008

Hangzhou Blowin in the Wind: Migrant Encampments, Video Pop’s Parking Tragedy and Sun Xun’s Animation Farm






As I sit poised to re-visit the southern, tranquil neighbor of Shanghai for yet another blow out art exhibition I think about my last trip not so long ago in the frigid depths of winter when the Lunar New Year’s plans were upset by massive (by Southern China standards) snowfalls. Thousands of stranded, mostly migrant workers whose only break from the back breaking tasks that occupy the rest of their year finally comes to fruition. But this year snow falls cut down train lines and left lots of these modest proletariat folk stranded on both sides of my trip. Shanghai’s UFO shaped South Railway Station was packed to the brim with instant noodled-out, comatose pedestrians. They filled every nook and cranny – sometimes stacked on top of each other and their belongings… They all seemed surprisingly patient. And when I took the hi-speed line 200kms south to Hangzhou, the army had erected tents (without heat or floors) so that the runoff riffraff from the insides of the station didn’t have to brave the pissy weather while they waited for their trains to come in- up to 2-3days for some.

Anyway I went to see Zhang Peili, the appointed father of Chinese video art and dean of the New Media Department at the China Art Academy, to see if we could work out one convoluted and ultimately flawed book deal. I’m not sure who appointed him “father” but somehow the title seems appropriate- and he seems fatherly, though still very active as a video artist - most recently with a show at Jack Tilton Gallery in NY for which Holland Cotter (friend of anything Chinese) wrote a funny little ditty about in the Times. [It might’ve been while working at Jack Tilton for a brief stint in '98-99 that I first collaborated with Peili- curating his exhibition FLY for which no one really paid attention except the good folks at MoMA who ended up collecting their first Chinese artwork- Zhang’s many channeled EATING piece –directly from the artist for which J.Tilton is still pissed off]

Peili picked me up and we went for tea. As we pulled up onto the sidewalk- people park on the sidewalk sometimes- I thought our positioning created an obstacle for any pedestrian to pass– Peili assured me that if the parking attendant didn’t say anything – it’d be fine. Anyway- we had a few too many cups of extra strong, locally grown Dragon Well tea and between cellphone interruptions we tried to work out some kind of deal and catch up on each other’s lives. Afterwards we exited to discover Zhang’s car has been ticketed! Zhang bewildered and pissed walks over to accost the unsuspecting attendant – what the F**? You saw us park here and you didn’t say anything – and now I’ve got t his 500yuan ticket! Do you have your head up your ass? I’m a regular customer here for Christ’s sake! The driver claims he doesn’t know anything about the car or ticket. Zhang Rages on about the attendant’s incompetence and threatens to talk to the management about his job.
Anyway
Even fathers of video art get parking tickets.
Then we went to see his exhibition at a local galley where an interactive video piece wasn’t really working so well so we had some espressos –doubling an already phat caffeine fix . One piece that was working, and that was also in Zhang’s NY show was a very small monitor which played, what seemed, a porno film but when the viewer approached the film turned off frustrating the viewers desire and expectations. Very smart and somehow reminiscent of the parking ticket earlier.

Afterwards Zhang drops me off in front of the Academy and I am relayed to Sun Xun, one of China’s young artistic heroes who belongs to, for lack of a better name, the 80’s generation- those born into a China already in full swing of economic reform and opening up - way after the dreaded Cultural revolution where Starbucks, KFC and bootlegged Hollywood were already quickly healing and homogenizing the wounds of yesteryear.

Sun makes charcoal animations of men in top hats that pontificate while big insects buzz around and the sound of impending doom makes the soundtrack. For lack of a better referent I’d say he’s China’s William Kentridge BUT us westerners are always looking for some sort of hole to put these “others” into, always looking for the derivative, the link back to our shores- like we invented everything and anything that occurred and everyone else are producing cheap ripoffs. Sun Xun’s adopted his aesthetic from many varied and globally available referents and complies them into these dark animations that describe dystopic societies of both and neither yesterday and tomorrow. I’m supposed to write his catalog essay for the HAMMER museum in LA and have only dystopia and poor Willy Kentridge to begin with. When I mentioned William, Sun said William’s process is one that documents the drawing and erasing while he produces new slates for each motion- adding up to a helluva lot of drawings that can be sold in groups – see his last show at Shangart’s D Space. But Sun Xun isn’t about the market- he’s rather about the system and he has quite an efficient one in he likes of his workshop. A sleuth of 20 or so workers produce his short abstract animations. He also has one of those old-school three barreled video projectors (like the ones we used in ’99 at Jack Tiltons for Zhang’s exhibition) and only buys imported, mostly German, items. He believes that if you don’t push hard people don’t work hard. He likes Nietzsche and Nietzsche likes him. More on all of this and hanging in Hangzhou later.

Saturday, March 29, 2008

Just another found Performance art documentation project, Shanghai 2008 1st Installment


It was around Lunar New Year in Xujiahui, Shanghai's hyper modern mall district. On the busy sidewalk outside a photo printing store, might've even been a Kodak, a woman was burning ID photos in a dust pan. Of course I rushed to document this odd occurrence only to be barred by the woman. She kept pushing me away and told me I shouldn't be taking pictures She balked "How weird that you want to photograph this!" I replied " How weired that you are doing this!"
Anyway - the whole affair had the looks of some ancient ancestor worship ritual ... but in a very PM way. In effect- this whole 'found performance' solved one of the dilemmas of the contemporary arts in China in general- how to make traditional practices modern. Gu Wenda, Xu Bing, Zhang Huan, Huang Yongping, Qiu Zhijie at times, and a host of others including this photo store employee are all engaged in this arduous task.

Just another found Installation photo project, Shanghai 2008 2nd Installment




This one is called "Sunflowers and Garbage Can", various views, set of three, edition of 12, signed on the back

Post Partum and Proud




As I sit here listening to the blood curt ling cries of a 13day old being tortured with the ancient Chinese - getting the diaper changed - method I realize that everything anyone ever said about having a child is true... The good, the bad, the in between- all true. Now I can finally say that the twelve zillion times I've heard my mother say - "You'll know when you have children" and I smart aleking rebutted "I'm never having children", has all been with merit I guess I know ... or am just starting to know Either way it's one helluva lesson in humility
Here's the Birth story below
...

After an amazing show of triumph on the part of Yan our son was born yesterday March 18, 2008. He was 8 lbs. 8 is a lucky number in China and we feel SOOOO very LUCKY!.
While it was super dramatic and emotional - It took less than two hours from water breaking to the birth - no meds, no C's. Yan and the baby are recovering just fine. While he still doesn't look like either one of us, he's healthy - eating, farting, sleeping, snoring and crying only once in a while. In the tradition of long, arty, un-pronounceable, multi-culti names that run in the family his is:
RUI
VINCIEN YANG BORYSEVICZ
but you can call him Ray :)
RUI (sounds like Ray - means morning dew and is Yan's grandfather's name- Yang Rui- his Chinese name is also a Tang Dynasty military hero)
VINCIEN
(is a derivative of Vincent, the name of my grandfather that both my father and I never knew - He was killed while my dad was still an infant and has always remained a mystery and legend. Rui Vincien will be the first to carry on the Borysevicz name of his generation)

YANG (is Yan's sir name)

BORYSEVICZ
(is mine)

Yes a little long and heavy. We don't expect him to live up to it. We just want him to happily keep farting and remain healthy! And we still can get out of it - we have yet to sign the birth certificate.

Thanks for all your love and support along the way!!! Mathieu and Yan

Monday, February 11, 2008

Just another found Installation photo project, Shanghai 2008 1st Installment




Having lately seen the crossover of art and life reak beautiful havoc both in Zendai's Art and Intrude 366 days of public art interventions for which I have created a proposal and began a project for and which has already been published in its virtual photoshop proposal form in both the impossible-to-navigate website and the Shanghai Daily English version (Thank you Defne Ayas for alarming me to the matter and saving the day old paper- I hope that the southern seas have gotten you over your cold) As well as in Duolun Museum's Archive project of a local park which I profiled in the all new, though slightly lagging, ARTFORUM China website- I have decided to record the many instances of where art and life unknowingly overlap. That is- due in part to the increasingly pluralistic nature of the contemporary arts on one side and the increasingly surreal nature of reality (I blame it all on 911) on the other - art and life are increasingly miostaken or taken for one another. Through mere indexing I claim this art or its record as my own. Mine Mine mine
right

Here's some photos that Ive taken recently in Shanghai of impromptu and most likely unknowing (or I am just a culturally insensitive tool?) public installations projects. Many of them use meat as raw material referring to the unbridled consumptive tendencies during this time of year and the absence of animal rights in this overly peopled place. Other works show other food stuff- like the all over orange composition that momentarily occupied the corner by my house until, with the good participation of hungry and not too fussy passer bys, it gradually dissappeared. There's also a lot of laundry like installations which signify man's eternal post-paradise shame as well as the artists' attempt to harness the wind spirits... I think. Anyway there are a great many ways to read these great works. Please contribute your readings to mabzchina@gmail.com - It's not my usual address but I figured it was cool to have gmail