The New Dynasty
by Tiffany Rainey
MAP (music.art.people), No. 4, pgs. 27-30
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By now, you've heard of the Chinese contemporary art boom. Here's how it happened, why it matters, and what to expect in the future.

Upon entering ArtSpace/Virginia Miller Galleries in Coral Gables on a Friday this winter, it was immediately apparent that the works bedecking the stark white walls were far from the area's usual fare of dead Latin American masters. Even those with an untrained eye-catching a glimpse through the clusters of viewers gathered before each of the immense pieces-would be hard-pressed to miss the obvious differences this exhibit held. The color schemes and subject matter were clearly from another place: from the glaring neons of Xiong Lijun's Pop princesses to the austere presentation of horizontally-aligned symbolic images painted by Li Bo. This exhibit, Six 21st Century Chinese Neo-Pop Artists, was unlike anything the city has ever seen, at least not all in one space.

"When the opportunity to do this show presented itself, I jumped at it because the work was fresh and provocative," gallery owner Virginia Miller says of the show, which was curated by San Diego's Pierrette Van Cleve, who had the right contacts in China. "I find the juxtaposition of traditional Chinese art with very contemporary icons fascinating. I wanted to show something new - a whole movement."

Miller is among the first in South Florida to aim the spotlight directly on the influx of artwork coming out of China right now, and she is definitely on the right track. Of note, a show at the new Galerie Bertin-Toublanc in Wynwood also featured a Chinese artist, Xu Yongkang, who creates droll double portraits of impossibly cute babies.

In recent years, Chinese contemporary art has conquered the international market in a way that few could have predicted in the not-so-distant days of the country's heavy-handed Communist censorship. Artists who were once forced underground or into exile to practice their craft rather than confine themselves to the strictures of propagandist art have now been given a much longer tether and are taking advantage by selling to both galleries and private collectors (including renowned Brit Charles Saatchi) who are able to shell out the millions that Chinese heavyweights are suddenly getting for their often controversial pieces.

One example is a work from Li Shan's "Reading" series auctioned off last December at the Hosane Auction Co. in Shanghai. At just over $5 million, the oil painting received the highest bid of any piece produced by a living Chinese artist and is among the most expensive paintings by a contemporary Chinese artist ever sold at auction, according to ArtNet.com. Others, including Liu Xiaodong and Zhang Xiaogang, have topped $2 million at auction, a significant amount considering it places these relative newcomers in the company of art world superstars like Damien Hirst and Jeff Koons.

Shan, Xiaodong and Xiaogang-along with several others including Wang Guangyi and Fang Lijun-are all part of a Chinese art resurgence that began in 1979 when looser economic restrictions championed by People's Republic of China leader Deng Xiaoping cleared a path for artists to enter international markets with much less fiscal government interference. The collective style that emerged from the post-Great Leap artists was a satirical one, perverting the Socialist Realism style once forced by Mao Zedong and his propaganda campaigns into political and social commentary aimed at China's progression toward 21st century commercialism and politics. The movement, known as Cynical Realism, garnered increased censorship, as evidenced by a 1989 crackdown on avant-garde art, which banned pieces deemed hostile or anti-authoritarian and kept many of these artists living in relative poverty throughout the '90s despite the government's slight capitalistic shift.

As China's place among the world powers began to grow, however, so did the art coming out of the country. Whether it was China's attempts to save face among the Democratic countries it began ingratiating itself with or simply a case of more pressing matters at hand, fewer and fewer artists were feeling the brunt of government censors. And international gallerists searching for the "Next Big Thing" were suddenly courting these Chinese artists who had been toiling away unknown for years.

Newer artists, some returning from self-exile, began pushing the boundaries even further as early as 2000. Liu Yan and Lu Peng, both shown at Miller's exhibition, were among the many to take Chinese contemporary art in a fresh direction by combining traditional Chinese techniques and materials with political observation and pop-culture fixtures (which is ironic and controversial since much of China's art produced pre-1949 was destroyed by Zedong's Red Guard in the Four Olds destruction campaign of the mid-1960s). In "The Man's World" an "The Woman's World," both created on Chinese book paper mounted on silk, Yan adopts a formal imperial portrait style to comment on gender roles in modern China. The former incorporates Zedong, Saddam Hussein and Salvador Dali. The latter includes a juxtaposition of real and imagined women ranging from Madonna and a bikini-clad cowgirl to Zedong's wife and a solider in China's rumored female army.

With international popularity on the rise, the movement - often compared to that of American Pop Art's counterculture movement - took hold and even the lesser-known names got a taste of the billions flowing to Chinese artists. In addition to the increasing demand for export to European and American galleries, some of China's more upwardly mobile cities, including Shanghai and Beijing, also became hotbeds for art. Entire districts have materialized in the last few years including Beijing's Factory 789 and 50 Moganshan Lu in Shanghai, and are now dedicated to pushing forth regional artists of every caliber. "The viewpoints of these contemporary Chinese artists reflect their relatively recent cultural upheaval as well as their personal histories, just as the subject matter and styles of our nation's Pop artists of the '60s developed from the societal shifts at that time," Miller says of artists like Yan whose grandmother was among those forced by the Communist Chinese government to bind her feet.

Also riding this wave of galleries and auction houses is the latest incarnation of Chinese artists, many of which are categorized as "Neo-Pop". Lijun and Bo, as well as Chen Ke and others, fall into this new generation of artists recognized by their movement away from the Socialist Realist and traditional forms in favor of more Western themes and innovative compositions. As products of China's "one child generation," raised on unadulterated capitalism and Western commercialism, much of their work smacks of trendiness, calling to mind cartoons, music videos and forgettable fashion. But it is the unabashed hedonism of their subject matter and the visceral assault of color and composition-lacking the usually conventions of highbrow - that gives these works the punch that attracts gallery owners like Miller.

"These pieces reflect the incredible changes taking place in Chinese society today, with a newly affluent younger generation trying to cope within a socialistic system," Miller explains, referring to some of the Neo-Pop works in her exhibition. "I fell they illuminate this phenomenon and present us with a glimpse into the efforts of these artists to process the Western influences on the rapid changes in Chinese society during this extraordinary era."

Although China has been long overdue for a cultural awakening, some worry that the sudden spike in the country's at market may be causing more problems than the many pushing it realize. Rumors that the Chinese art bubble will soon burst and create a massive shift in the economies of both the country and the art world are whispered among scholars and collectors. According to these naysayers, newer artists are forgoing the unspoken industry code of first showing their working galleries in favor of the immediate cash that comes from placing a piece directly on the auction block, therefore distastefully inflating prices. There is also talk of artists mass-producing work of lower quality in order to satisfy an international market more concerned with quantity than quality.

Then there is always the veiled threat of a new wave of government censorship within the country just as it begins to establish itself as a true art power. Some fear a return of stricter censorship once the 2008 Summer Olympics, hosted in Beijing, have passed. While not nearly as pronounced as it was in the last few decades, discreet censoring is still very much a part of producing, showing and selling art within China. Just last year, the staff of the Duolun Museum of Modern Art in Shanghai got into a disagreement with authorities over their collection and artist Wang Qingsong was questioned for two days before his negatives were seized by officials. Some artists, including Bo, continue to be refused travel visas due to the contentious nature of their work.

Even with doubts surfacing over the lifespan of the Chinese contemporary art boom, there are still those who have faith in the staying power of the movement. Miller is among them - and with good reason. At just over a month into the exhibition, she'd sold over half of the pieces on display. Then there are those who wander into the gallery to see the art from the first time and instantly take to these inspired images that transmit a critical message that can easily transcend political, geographic and ethnic barriers.

"Clearly, the fact that this work had not been introduced in this area interested me, but my bottom line has always been whether or not the work itself is important and worth showing," Miller says. "The show was solid and I'm always glad to have an opportunity to introduce another exciting new group of artists to South Florida."