The New York Times Magazine

[ 2007-02-25 22:10:51 | 作者Author: OUNING ]
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今天出版的《纽约时报》周末杂志刊出了第50届威尼斯双年展总策展人波纳米(Francesco Bonami)撰写的一篇关于中国当代艺术的文章,并附有八个人物介绍。这部分本由Jonathan Napark执笔,后他病故,改由Philip Tinari完成。编辑的意图是把当代艺术作为一种风尚介绍给读者,因此文章亦不求深入,有点闲谈八卦的意思,还是以读图为主。图片由北京摄影师宋朝拍摄,我和曹斐较喜欢他在东郊市场为我们拍的那张,而《纽约时报》则挑了在工作室的这张:

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Ou Ning and Cao Fei

Working over the last several years from the ‘‘Alternative Archive,’’ a townhouse in their native Guangzhou, Ou Ning emerged as the éminence grise of China’s burgeoning graphic-design and alternative-media scene and Cao Fei became a globe-trotting young artist (she is 28) on the biennial circuit. He is a catalyst and mentor for the creative class, galvanizing a group of young designers, filmmakers and musicians with traveling exhibitions like ‘‘Get It Louder’’ and special supplements (on topics like Art Basel) to the chic Chinese publication Modern Weekly. She devotes herself to the young and the disenfranchised in video works like ‘‘Whose Utopia?’’ a collaboration with migrant workers at a Siemens light-bulb factory in Foshan. Together they have documented China’s rapidly regenerating cities in strangely lyrical urban research projects about Sanyuanli (a migrant neighborhood in Guangzhou) and Dazhalan (a poor enclave in Beijing’s old city). Last summer, this one true power couple of the Chinese art world made a surprise move from Guangzhou to Beijing, trading local prominence for a perch in the capital. You can read more about their comings and goings on their matching blogs on alternativearchive.com.

其他人物包括策展人皮力、中国美术馆馆长范迪安、收藏家管毅、艺术家徐震、策展人侯瀚如、艺术家艾未未、艺术家郑国谷:

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Pi Li

In a city with hundreds of galleries but no real gallerists, the curator Pi Li (photographed with the work of the artist Liu Wei, whose solo show he is mounting this spring) is best positioned to build the artistic careers that will keep Chinese contemporary art aloft after the first bubble bursts. Pi, 32, presides over UniversalStudios-Beijing (don’t tell Hollywood), a 13,000-square-foot hangarlike space with a commercial program representing China’s hippest artists, a production arm responsible for things like the Chinese pavilion at the Venice Biennale this summer and even a noodle bar cum summer hangout. Born into the official Chinese art world — his father is the influential critic Pi Daojian — he made a name for himself in the ’90s writing about the painters who are now commanding big dollars at international auctions. And his influence as the curatorial don of the Deng Xiaoping generation only continues to expand — from the karaoke nightclubs, where he regularly convenes gatherings of artists, actors and media folk, to the offices of UBS, which recently named him one of two advisers worldwide to its corporate collection.

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Fan Di’an

The director of the National Art Museum of China, Fan Di’an is perhaps the only cultural bureaucrat who seems to value a designer haircut and a well-fitting suit. A prominent critic and educator in the 1990s and former vice president of the Central Academy of Fine Arts, he was once tapped by the Communist Party leader Jiang Zemin to deliver a crash course in modern Western art on the eve of a presidential visit to the Pompidou. Since his appointment to the nation’s premier venue in 2005, Fan has expanded the museum’s program — official shows sponsored by sanctioned ‘‘artists’ associations’’ and, increasingly, corporate-sponsored vanity exhibitions — by collaborating with international-art-world institutions like Art Basel (for which he held a panel and party in the museum’s atrium last September) and the Guggenheim (whose blockbuster ‘‘Art in America: 300 Years of Innovation’’ opened there earlier this month). A member of the city’s Olympic Committee who is widely seen as destined for higher office, he will most likely face the onerous task of legitimizing contemporary art in the eyes of the state.

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Guan Yi

Standing in front of Huang Yong Ping’s sculpture ‘‘Factory of the World’’ at a temporary exhibition in the grand Soviet-style halls of Beijing’s Agricultural Exhibition Center in the fall of 2002, Guan Yi decided to become an art collector. The son of a wealthy chemical-manufacturing magnate, he has amassed in a few years an impressive trove at once sophisticated and adamantly Chinese. While he does own a few works by auction darlings like Zhang Xiaogang and Wang Guangyi, Guan Yi’s passion lies not with the painters but with the experimental collectives — Huang’s Xiamen Dada, Wu Shanzhuan’s Red Humor, Gu Dexin’s New Analysts and the Guangzhou-based Big Tail Elephant Group — who are the real art heroes of the last two decades. And while a stop at the private museum (photographed here) has become de rigueur for every group of visiting art-world dignitaries, his most important role may be figurehead and tastemaker for the emerging generation of Chinese collectors, who, if they follow his lead, may help turn Chinese art history away from the smiling faces and remade propaganda posters of the current buzz.

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Xu Zhen

The merry prankster of Shanghai, Xu Zhen makes slyly provocative art out of the foibles of the party state. When a team of Chinese mountaineers revised the official height of Mount Everest in 2005, lowering it by four meters, he produced an elaborate ‘‘documentary’’ of himself scaling the summit with a group of friends and then displayed the mountaineering paraphernalia from this Photoshopped expedition — along with a papier-mâché pyramid purported to be Everest’s missing peak. For the Shanghai Biennale in 2004, he sped up the clock atop the British Racing Club building (which now houses the Shanghai Art Museum) so that during the exhibition the hours passed in mere seconds. His piece ‘‘OKmyclub’’ (shown here) took the form of a widely forwarded e-mail message that solicited funding for him and a gang of thugs to travel around the world ‘‘beating up’’ celebrities and politicians. He now oversees a curatorial space in Shanghai’s Moganshan gallery district as well as an online community populated by young Chinese hipsters.

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Hou Hanru

Hou Hanru’s landmark ‘‘Cities on the Move’’ (1997), a sprawling manifesto of a show that Hou organized with the Swiss curator Hans Ulrich Obrist, brought many Chinese — but also Thai, Korean and Indonesian — artists into the global mainstream. In 1999, Hou found himself in the spotlight when he became the first foreigner to curate the French pavilion at Venice and then went on to direct the first international biennial on Chinese soil in Shanghai in 2000. He and Obrist reunited to organize the second Guangzhou Triennial in his native Pearl River Delta (the region that includes Guangzhou and Hong Kong) from 2004 to 2006. At Venice this summer, his Chinese pavilion will show the work of four female artists, and his Istanbul Biennial exhibition — organized from his new teaching post at San Francisco Art Institute, where he is also the director of exhibitions — will open in September.

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Ai Weiwei

Ai Weiwei was both the driving force behind the revolutionary Stars Group of artists in the late 1970s and the idea man behind Herzog & de Meuron’s bird’s-nest design for the 2008 Olympic stadium. His bad-boy stance can seem like shtick. Take, for example, his iconic photo series ‘‘Dropping a Han Dynasty Urn,’’ in which he does exactly that, or the groundbreaking if not defamatory exhibition he curated alongside the Shanghai Biennale in 2000. But he is anything but disingenuous. His blog, read by some 10,000 people a day, mixes astute political and social commentary with unflagging daily photographic journal entries. His architecture firm, Fake Design, has 50 projects under way. And his artistic career is only just taking off. An almost $4 million project, set to highlight the opening of Documenta XII in June, will encamp 1,001 Chinese citizens in the center of Kassel, Germany. Their clothing and furnishings, like so much in the Chinese art world, will be of Ai’s design.

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Zheng Guogu

In the coastal manufacturing city of Yangjiang, a two-bedroom apartment can be purchased for around $7,000. The artist Zheng Gougu’s aquarium-filled triplex, which he pieced together from seven such apartments on the top floors of an ordinary midrise, is, like much of his work, a response to contemporary life in China outside its major cities. Zheng attended art school in Guangzhou, and since his inclusion in ‘‘Cities on the Move’’ a decade ago, his career has taken him around the world. But this seemingly forgettable semitropical town of mopeds and open-air markets continues to inspire his work, from his early photographic tableaux ‘‘Yangjiang Youth,’’ in which his friends enacted gangster scenes not far removed from their own lives, to his best-known series of paintings ‘‘Computer Controlled by Pig’s Brain,’’ which appropriates textual and graphic elements from advertisements in the Hong Kong periodicals that circulate there. In recent years, Zheng has spearheaded the Yangjiang Group, a ragtag band of drinking buddies and amateur calligraphers with whom he produces elaborate installations of fake trees and crumpled rice-paper ponds.

波纳米的文章:

Crouching Tiger, Hidden Agenda
by FRANCESCO BONAMI
Published: February 25, 2007

Recently I received an e-mail message from a curator friend inquiring about a painter and sculptor named Liu Wei. I had included his work in a show I organized in Turin called “AllLookSame?” that featured pieces by young Korean, Chinese and Japanese artists. “Do you believe that Liu Wei is just a good artist or a very good artist that will be famous in the future like Zhang Xiaogang?” my friend asked. (Zhang Xiaogang is a Chinese art star whose paintings fetch six figures.)

I am a curator, but I am not a clairvoyant. The word on Chinese art right now is “Buy!” but I’m not convinced that we Westerners really understand what’s going on there. Ten years ago, a few Chinese artists, like Chen Zen or Huang Yong Ping, appeared on the West’s radar screen, satisfying a certain outdated “Orientalist” craving among some collectors. People like Uli Sigg, the former Swiss ambassador to China, who counts some 1,500 pieces of Chinese and Asian art in his collection, and another Swiss citizen, Lorenz Helbling, who opened his gallery, ShanghART, in China more than a decade ago, are reaping the profits of their foresight. But now Western collectors and dealers are descending on China like a swarm of annoying and aimless flies. Actually, today’s burgeoning Chinese art world depends very marginally, if at all, on the gallery establishment in New York and London. Huge crowds may jam the Miami Basel and Frieze art fairs, but those numbers are nothing compared with the potential size of the art market within China itself.

All of these things make it hard for me to answer my friend’s question about Liu Wei. But the real difficulty has less to do with the dangers of market speculation than with the fact that I haven’t quite figured out how a Chinese artist thinks, creates and produces a work of art.

A studio visit to an artist in Beijing is often like 10 studio visits in Brooklyn. In China, you don’t find a painter, and a sculptor, and a video artist, but rather one artist who is working on painting, sculpture, photography, video and (why not?) performance all at the same time. When I visited Liu Wei in Beijing to select works for my show in Turin, he offered me not only beautiful cityscape paintings but also architectural models of famous buildings, like St. Peter’s Cathedral and the Empire State Building, made from the same rubber used to make fake dog bones. (I chose a painting.) In Europe, an artist that looks for inspiration in both a pet shop and the early work of Gerhard Richter would most likely be dismissed as lacking a consistent point of view. But in China the same criteria do not apply.

European artists often develop different bodies of work. Many Chinese artists seem to develop different bodies for each work. A great chaos under the sky was supposedly an excellent sign for Chairman Mao Zedong, and the same may be true for today’s Chinese artists. Complexity and change is part of Chinese philosophy. To favor one medium over the others would be to impose a silly constraint. If all is possible in contemporary art, why limit yourself?

Beijing’s Central Academy of Fine Arts currently receives applications from some 17,000 aspiring artists annually. Maybe a third of these will be accepted. But even if only 10 percent of those succeed in some way, there will be plenty of Chinese art to collect. What and by which ones has yet to be determined. But there is less and less doubt that the future, in some form or shape, will belong to the Chinese — not only as producers of art but also as consumers of it. Their capacity to devour and digest global ideas in order to create their own new aesthetic is simply astonishing. It’s happening already with architecture. After overcoming their initial inferiority complex, the Chinese are realizing that they don’t need to buy into the Western star system. For every Koolhaas the West produces, they can produce 10 very good young Chinese architects able to deliver the same project, at the same level of quality, for about a third of the price. This doesn’t mean, of course, that China is immune from nouveau riche posturing. Louis Vuitton and Prada bags are as avidly consumed there as they are everywhere else on the planet. But a new, more sophisticated generation of creative people and style makers seems to be taking control.

Today, even government censorship has become a sort of performance art. During my visit to Shanghai last year, the government closed down a weeklong exhibition of ambitious installations in a newly renovated factory — some of the art was said to contain pornographic content — and a mild protest followed. But it all seemed to be part of a continuing game of cat and mouse, if not even a weird new form of art marketing.

They say that if you show a video of a tiger running in the jungle, a person from the West will focus on the tiger while a person from China will take in the whole image. There’s no question that while Americans and Europeans are looking at individual artists or individual works of art, the Chinese are seeing a cultural transformation of enormous proportions. Some Chinese artists will no doubt get eaten by the tiger. But perhaps it’s the dealers and the collectors in the West who are missing the big picture.

来源:http://www.nytimes.com/2007/02/25/magazine/25Style.China.t.html?ref=magazine
[最后修改由 OUNING, 于 2007-04-15 04:18:42]
评论Feed: http://www.alternativearchive.com/ouning/feed.asp?q=comment&id=364

浏览模式View_mode: 显示全部 | 评论Comments: 24 | 引用Trackbacks: 0 | 排序 | 浏览Views: 44017
引用 老顽童*
[ 2007-02-26 15:04:19 ]
上班了,一切照旧,年过得可好?
引用 OUNING
[ 2007-02-26 15:16:05 ]
过年放假十天,差旅、应酬比平时工作还累,但回老家有心灵上的收获。你呢?
引用 北大建筑*
[ 2007-02-26 17:36:44 ]
发现唯一Cao Fei敢正视镜头。
引用 google*
[ 2007-02-26 19:16:45 ]
中国当代艺术关您什么事?艺术家、策展人、收藏家、批评家,您属于哪个?俺们真没搞明白哦~ 艺术家家属倒是名副其实啊,呵呵
引用 caofei*
[ 2007-02-26 20:06:18 ]
欧宁是不是和当代艺术有关,这个不是我和你能说了算,纽约时报说了也不算,况且我认为身份越模糊越好,什么家不家急于归类群分的你被当代艺术洗坏脑了。欧宁的确是我的家属,如果欧宁和当代艺术没有关系,那我也从来没有过。
引用 OUNING
[ 2007-02-26 21:41:44 ]
好像我占了中国当代艺术多大的便宜、分了它多大一杯羹似的。可笑!您对当代艺术那么有归属感,您肯定是它亲生的,要不也算个亲朋戚友或利益摊分者。
引用 redog*
[ 2007-02-26 22:31:49 ]
热闹热闹,开年就热闹好,祝大家新年愉快!中国当代艺术越来越热闹!
欧宁不管属于什么,起码能让中国当代艺术这么热闹,也是做了很大贡献的!就这一点就可以了,大家要多支持以下才对.
引用 fengzhifeng*
[ 2007-02-27 21:18:28 ]
回老家几天是在家呆着还是到处转悠了?我也回了,本想到你那边转悠,可惜那时间太短,只好做罢.
引用 baidu*
[ 2007-02-27 22:41:56 ]
"中国当代艺术关您什么事?"那人家是什么身份又关您什么事呢?您这不是纯粹的无聊吗?
引用 luluc
[ 2007-02-27 23:16:56 ]
欧宁的入选是因为他为中国当代艺术做的许多推动工作,promoter,以及别馆的重要性。如果对艺术界的理解还只是停留在是一种发生在艺术家和批评家之间的东西,那么对当代艺术的理解就是有遗漏的。正好曹斐也在名单里,所以就一并拍摄并写作了。
引用 老顽童*
[ 2007-02-28 03:05:32 ]
这是一个隐藏评论.
引用 老顽童*
[ 2007-02-28 03:22:07 ]
分学科、科目是逻辑思维的产(糙)物,以便于糙人学习理会,然世界原本是不分科目的,未来就是——一锅粥——只为能穿墙破门自由行走的人而游刃。不知欧生是否?
引用 OUNING
[ 2007-02-28 11:27:04 ]
看到这里的争吵,在另一个世界的Jonathan Napark肯定在发笑。这是他乐见的,他一直喜欢在艺术世界挑起事端,搅乱原有的利益格局。不论被写到的,未被写到的,都成为他彰显写作者权力的工具:他决定一切。
引用 ddsh*
[ 2007-02-28 19:43:17 ]
我与朋友们建了个公用博客,与你连接。谢谢!
引用 guojing
[ 2007-02-28 20:21:56 ]
好长时间没有过来了,过年马上要开学了过来看看
看你们的blog吵架很有意思google和baidu在吵架
评论ouning是不是当代艺术家
你说是google对还是baidu对呢,呵呵
我觉得都可笑
引用 wuduo
[ 2007-03-01 11:53:55 ]
欧生你的确做了很多有意义的事情,那是你的使命,我尊敬你。
引用 豆腐干
[ 2007-03-01 14:58:01 ]
我觉得最可笑的是:曹小姐过分紧张了!
引用 baidu
[ 2007-03-02 00:56:55 ]
二位肚量还真是小
引用 老鱼*
[ 2007-03-02 20:58:04 ]
哈哈,看把人家急的。小孩不懂事乱说话,别计较。
引用 father*
[ 2007-03-04 03:12:56 ]
fu*k google and baidu
引用 乱说别怪*
[ 2007-03-04 20:46:38 ]
曹斐的迅速窜红我一直感到不可思以,觉得没有与其名相符的作品.国父稍好一点,但也不够分量.基本是个当代艺术好学生.倒是欧极有天分
引用 hiJack
[ 2007-03-21 00:16:43 ]
看来斐姐很生气,后果很严重呢
好像大家都掉进别人制造的语境里面吵起来了,不如放宽点心态,用历史态度去等待验证囖
引用 Munu*
[ 2013-04-06 15:44:15 ]
Of the panoply of webitse I've pored over this has the most veracity.

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