by Lisa Movius

"Forbidden Words" by Guo Qingling

The manic pace of economic development and social change in Shanghai has created a mess of contradictions and dilemmas that most people are unable, unwilling, or afraid to address. A frantic rush to hop on the bandwagon of the latest trends often allows this city and its people to ignore their crisis of values and of identity: What does it mean to be Shanghainese, or Chinese, or even human? The task thus falls by default to the city's intelligentsia, but its artists, writers and musicians find it difficult, if not impossible, to represent (let alone resolve) the neuroses of the fin de this particular siecle metropolis without resorting to simplification and/or exaggeration.

Through the eyes of Shanghai's more established, older artists, one glimpses a vision of the city that tends toward the overwhelmed, the bewildered, the embittered. They encounter a new world that is at once the Promised Land, Sodom and Gomorrah, and their works are as oft as not a desperate attempt to come to terms with an ever more unrecognizable urban landscape.

The post-Cultural Revolution generation of artists sings an entirely different tune. Comfortable with-- even delighting in-- the chaos around them, their works show a cocky brashness that forms a striking contrast with the stiff self-consciousness of their better-known predecessors. The headyness is refreshing, and their themes reject the over-done and over-hyped political themes and exoticised Orientalism in favor of simpler and more authentic topics of individual life and emotion.

"I don't think that young artists are any better or worse than their predecessors. They show, however, the feeling of their generation: lifestyle, education, culture and values have all changed. They have different concerns," commented Li Lei, the organizer of the "New Shanghai, New Vision" show at the 1999 Shanghai Art Fair.  "New Vision" featured a sampling of works by twenty lesser-known Shanghai artists aged between 26 and 41.  The age range of the participants sharply limited the exhibit's ability to showcase Shanghai's leading young artists.  However, as Li Lei put it, the exhibit, "gives a chance for the public to see Shanghai's best young artists, who normally receive little, if any exposure."

Among the featured artists, 34-year-old Li Lei is director of the Shanghai Young Artists Association and a minor cadre in the Shanghai Cultural Bureau.  His works, exercises in post-modern minimalism, did not rank among the best, although they occupied the largest booth. Operating on limited funds, the Young Artists Association organizes around six exhibitions per year. According to Li Lei, the artists for "New Vision" were chosen according to the individuality of their works. "We looked for artists with their own character, their own style. Also important was the level of maturity and development of each artist's style. Moreover, they had to be willing to participate in such a group format." According to some participants, said "willingness" was actually measured by whoever was willing and able to pay. Featured artists had to fund their own booth, which, at prices ranging from 6,000 to 15,000 RMB, posed a major hurdle to your average starving artists. This may explain the conspicuous absence of many of Shanghai's best underground artists.

Despite funding issues and the debatable definition of "youth," a promising handful of young artists managed to use the show to emerge from their relative obscurity.  Seven of the artists included are still in their twenties, and a number of these exhibited remarkable talent.

"Resume" by Guo Qingling

Guo Qingling exhibited by far the most powerful works of the younger artists and of the show. If female artists are expected to paint delicately, the 26-year-old woman from Hunan chooses to ignore the norm.  Through counter-imposing broad monotone swatches with fine detail, Guo creates a sense of both flatness and space, dimension without dimension. Deceptively simple, their in-your-face vibrancy of color imply an urgency that grabs the viewer by the lapels and forces him to take notice. The hideous faces are subtly offensive, as evidenced by an incident a few days into the show when a passer-by began cursing at Guo for painting in such a manner, accusing her of exhibiting half-finished, shoddily done work.  Accusations aside, Guo Qingling's work, unlike many of the more prominent artists who also adopt the "rough" look, is anything but shoddy.

"Lady" by Wang Yichu

Wang Yichu also derives strength from simplicity. The muted colors, understated presentation, and feminine motifs of the 26-year-old former pianist's muddy brush strokes bear little in common with Guo's vivid works, but the effect is similarly striking. Three other young women provide translations of traditional styles. Wang Yuhong's classical oil paintings show a rich if uninspired precision, and Mao Donghua's traditional Chinese paintings are eye-pleasing but rather, well, girly.  Twenty-eight year old Ding Beili presents pastel watercolors of plants that would look at home in a ladies' restroom but can't compete with the other vegetation series in the show. Li Haifeng, one of the older dudes, paints a series of the birth, life and death process of plants with not-too-obvious sexual imagery in bright, simple colours. The two men held their own, but were nevertheless outdone by the works of Guo and Wang.  The cheerful abstract dabs of Zhang Yong's "Dyeing Organisms" series and Liu Yanchi's cubist nude woman in blacks, golds, and blues were well-done and visually pleasing, but failed to leave a strong impression.

"New Youth" by Pei Jing

The fresh, unpretentiousness of these young, predominantly female artists contrasts sharply with many of the older exhibitors, for example, Pei Jin, the most famous of the twenty artists in the show. His buxom, scantily-clad, cavorting dames are set to a backdrop of Communist and Nationalist imagery. It's hard to tell whether Pei is criticizing or celebrating the hedonism of China's "New Youth." Judging from the 37-year-old pretty boy from Beijing's public playboy persona, it's probably the latter. The conceptualization, however, lacks a profundity beyond "Look! Have fun! Nothing is sacred!"  For better and for worse, it's just not that simple.

Lisa Movius is Listings Editor for ChinaNow.com

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