By Michelle McCoy for the Yishu Journal of Contemporary Chinese Art, December 2007

Yang Fudong, Honey, 2003, video

Introduction

Located in the hills of La Jolla, a seaside resort community near San Diego, California, the residence of Chris and Eloisa Haudenschild is home to a major U.S. collection of contemporary Chinese video art and photography. It includes the work of roughly twenty-eight Chinese artists, including, significantly, Song Tao’s Life is Wonderful (2003), a large floor-top photo installation; Honey 2 (2003), a video by Hugo Boss Prize-nominated Yang Fudong; and Xu Zhen’s 1999 photomontage Sewer. In addition, the Haudenschild collection includes roughly one hundred and twenty holdings by ninety artists from the Americas, Europe, and other parts of Asia. Notable pieces include a triptych from Francis Alÿs’s series of paintings titled The Liar (ca. 1995), a photograph of Kristof Wodiczko’s Tijuana Projection (2002), and a painting from Komar & Melamid’s Most Wanted series dated at 2000 by the collector.(1)

The Haudenschilds began collecting contemporary Chinese video and photography in the late 1990s, when these mediums were beginning to become as widely used and important as they are today, and just before the beginning of the market’s current boom. Since then, prices for paintings by a few Chinese artists have topped two million dollars,(2) and domestic collectors have entered the market in a significant way.(3) In November 2006, for instance, a Chinese collector purchased a Liu Xiaodong painting at a Beijing auction for $2.7 million, the highest price paid at auction for a painting by a Chinese artist who began working after 1979. (4)

The current overall global art market also finds that contemporary art has, for the first time, “truly begun to rival the historically dominant Impressionism and Modern categories” at auction.(5) Evidence to the overall market’s growth, The Financial Times has recently been publishing how-to articles about art collecting in general and at least one art hedge fund has been established. Situated within this historic global market growth, expansion into China and other regions is seen as having contributed significantly overall. In addition to the work having dramatically appreciated, China has a new class of art collectors, with new levels of wealth among them. In fact, expansion into China and other “new” regions is often used in the case against the market’s potential crash.

Xu Zhen, Sewer, 1998, photograph

Within this, the private collector maintains a unique position. On the one hand, as Britta Erickson writes, “Private collections are well suited to capturing the life of a vibrant art movement, driven as they are by passion, unencumbered by institutional impedimenta.”(6) Not necessarily affixed to any institution or gallery, today’s private collector has the flexibility to build a historically complete collection, so long as he or she has the means and access to do so. On the other hand, private collectors are not under any obligation to remain loyal to any particular mission. As Lu Jie, founder and director of the Long March Project, said, “ . . . we’ve observed that many [collectors] started out building a big collection and ended up selling the artwork in auctions . . . . It really takes time to get to know what the real agenda is that a collector has.” (7) However, there are standards and traditions by which collectors are judged, which the late Jonathan Napack, former Asia adviser to Art Basel describes: to be considered a “collector,” one must have a certain amount of commitment and knowledge.(8)

Chris and Eloisa Haudenschild’s level of commitment and knowledge is evidenced by the way they support contemporary art beyond collecting. The Haudenschild Foundation supports exhibitions and sponsors artists’ and scholars’ projects and programs such as symposia and residencies at the haudenschildGarage. Perhaps their most ambitious project yet was an exhibition entitled Zooming into Focus: Contemporary Chinese Photography and Video from the Haudenschild Collection, which took place from 2003 to 2005 and traveled to venues in San Diego, Shanghai, Tijuana, Singapore, and Beijing.

Cao Fei’s and Pi Li’s presentation at the Political Equator Garage Talk at the haudenschildGarage, June 2006

In her catalogue essay for this exhibition, Erickson addresses the collection’s strengths: “Representing a personal vision, it has not been expected to present a complete or historic view of the field. Nevertheless, it has captured a major slice of Chinese photography and video, representative of a signal moment”(9) in the field’s entrance onto the global stage. Scholar Martina Köppel-Yang recognized it as the first collection of its kind, (10) and Tina Yapelli, Director of the University Gallery at San Diego State University and the exhibition’s organizer, lauded it as “the most important collection of contemporary Chinese video and photography in the world.” (11) Lorenz Helbling, the Haudenschilds’ longstanding dealer, writes, “The collection is a very ‘open’ collection . . .. It doesn’t aim to fix images people should have of China, or to transmit stereotypes of China. It’s not about ‘signature works’ or ‘trophy pieces’—it’s more about a spirit, about involvement.” The Haudenschilds, he writes, are “great collectors.”(12)

The Collection

To date, in addition to work by Yang Fudong, Song Tao, and Xu Zhen, the Haudenschild collection consists of works by Cao Fei, Chen Shaoxiong, Feng Mengbo, Geng Jianyi, Gu Dexin, Hai Bo, Hong Hao, Hu Jieming, Kan Xuan, Liu Wei, Lu Chunsheng, Shi Yong, Tang Maohong, Wang Jin, Wang Youshen, Weng Fen, Xiang Liqing, Yang Yong, Yang Zhenzhong, Yu Youhan, Zhao Bandi, Zhao Nengzhi, Zheng Guogu, Zhou Tiehai, and Zhu Jia. All of the works in the collection are photography, video/animation or computer graphics, or photo-based installations, except for two oil paintings and one print. The photographs are from editions of one hundred or smaller, with the majority of them from editions of ten or fewer. All of the videos are from editions of fewer than ten. (13)

Yang Zhenzhong, 922 Rice Corns, 2000, video

Of these seventy individual works produced by twenty-eight artists, two of the works were produced by women artists: Cao Fei and Kan Xuan. Three of the artists are thirty years old or younger, while ten are between thirty-one and forty, fourteen are between forty-one and fifty, and one artist is over sixty. Most of them are based in Shanghai, with a few based in Beijing, Hangzhou, Shenzhen, Yangjiang, Guangzhou, and Haikou, Hainan. Only Kan Xuan maintains a residence both in Beijing and abroad, in Amsterdam.

Eloisa Haudenschild said she is primarily interested in collecting as a way to assist and connect with emerging artists. She explained that when artists have been recognized and supported by other collectors, she maintains relationships with them, but her interest shifts from collecting their work to assisting them in other ways, such as funding projects. With charismatic ebullience, Haudenschild said she has never sold a work, nor has she bought work by an artist she has not met. She has never attempted to acquire work from an artist directly and has always used an agent or dealer. She said she has never asked the price of an artwork. The works have been acquired through studio visits and meetings with artists, stories she recounts with pleasure. Haudenschild refers to the first trips in which she began to acquire Chinese artwork as “my love affair.” (14)

Background

Eloisa Haudenschild, née Rodriguez-Carbornell, was born into an affluent family in Buenos Aires, Argentina, who were involved in real estate and politics. When asked, she said she probably could be considered a third- or fourth-generation collector, and keeps some of her family’s paintings and antiques in the La Jolla estate. She met Chris Haudenschild, an astrophysicst-entrepreneur and native of Los Angeles, skiing in Portillo in 1973. Chris Haudenschild, who has roots in Iowa and Indiana, is a first generation collector. Together they have two daughters, Rita and Anna, whose artwork is also listed in the collection’s catalogue.

Eloisa Haudenschild, Laura Zhou, and Ma Shulin (Deputy Director, National Art Museum of China) at the opening of Zooming into Focus, November 2005, National Art Museum of China, Beijing

Eloisa Haudenschild’s educational background is in psychology. She was involved in dance and choreography before pursuing her interest in contemporary art. She cut her art-collecting teeth in the early 1990s with contemporary work from Latin America. At that time, she was president of the bi-national board of inSite, a network of contemporary art programs and commissioned projects that map the liminal border area of San Diego and Tijuana.

Haudenschild said, “I traveled with the board and the directors to Mexico City every two months or so, visiting artists and studios, traveling with them and having fun. That afforded me the opportunity of meeting some extraordinary artists like Francis Alÿs, a good friend, who together with other good friends have since become international figures in the art world. There, I really got a firsthand experience of the situation. I saw firsthand their need of support.”

When Chris Haudenschild, founder and president of CliniComp, a healthcare information management system, began expanding his business into China, the couple began making regular trips to Shanghai. As she had done in Latin America, Eloisa Haudenschild sought to investigate the local art scene in Shanghai.

Approach

Participants in the symposium “Distance—A Discussion on Contemporary Chinese Photography and Video” at the China Art Academy, Hangzhou, March 2004. Left to right: Pi Li, Eloisa Haudenschild, Waling Boers, Martina Koppel-Yang, Laura Zhou, Evelyne Jouanno, Hou Hanru, Jonathan Napak, Rudolf Stoert, Anna Haudenschild, Chris Haudenschild, Rita Haudenschild, Gridthiya Gaweewong, Wang Gongxin, Hans Ulrich Obrist, Wang Du, Zhang Peili, and Zheng Shengtian

Fueled by passion and confidence, she says, they acquired twenty works with their first purchase of Chinese art. Her husband was very supportive, encouraging her to take those twenty and, in her words, “double it up—go for forty or fifty.”

Haudenschild recounts the late 1990s as an environment very different from the art world in the large urban centers of today’s China. “I spent a lot of time looking around,” she said of her first trips. “My husband and I went to the Shanghai Art Museum and saw a show of work by the Corsinos, a brother and sister who live in France. I was so moved by the work, and was bummed about not being able to share it with anyone. It was so nice to see something besides calligraphy and ink washes. I thought, ‘Somebody did this, some curator—someone has this sensibility,’ but I didn’t know who it was. So, I saw this guy walking around [the Shanghai Art Museum] who looked a little like Salvador Dali. I thought, ‘I’m going to ask this guy.’ And of course, it was Dadou.”

Dadou, or Davide Quadrio, founded BizArt, a self-supported non-profit gallery, in Shanghai in 1998. Along with ShanghART, it shares billing as one of the oldest contemporary art institutions in the city.

“I said [to Dadou], I’ve been coming here for three years, where is the artwork?’ He said, ‘Go to ShanghART and see Lorenz.’ So, my husband and I immediately caught a cab and went to [the gallery in] Fuxing Park. As you may know, getting around in those days wasn’t as easy as it is now.”

“I walked into [ShanghART]. Then, I met Laura Zhou,” Mr. Helbling’s partner at ShanghART. “It was genius from that moment on with Laura. . . . We are very close. She calls me ‘mommy.’”

Previously, Mr. Helbling had been showing work at the Portman Ritz-Carlton Hotel, a massive hotel, convention centre and residence in Shanghai. “He used to carry paintings around on the back of his motorcycle trying to sell them, because at that time he didn’t have a space,” recounts Haudenschild. Since then, ShanghART has moved from its Fuxing Park location and expanded into three different spaces within Shanghai. A fourth space opened this year in Beijing.

“I loved the continual excitement. The best part was going to studios and apartments to look at the work,” Haudenschild says. Effusive with praise for Mr. Helbling, she said, “[Lorenz] is so good. If I wanted something and he wasn’t working with that artist, he’d get it for me. For instance Cao Fei. He facilitated that…You know, Lorenz wouldn’t sell to just anybody. He’s not as concerned with making a profit. We work together; he really wants to support the artists.”

She said he has never given her explicit advice, saying, “You know how it is with Lorenz, you never know [what he’s really thinking]. He’ll listen, smoking, with his coffee. And then he’ll say, ‘Eloisa, I think it’s time to think.’” Helbling and Zhou did, however, encourage her to look at certain artists.

After that initial trip, Haudenschild says she did a fair amount of research, contacting and meeting with scholars and curators in the field. She went to Paris and met with Hou Hanru, and exchanged emails with Britta Erickson. Perhaps in testament to the perceived need for a studied, serious, aesthetics-based treatment of contemporary Chinese art, Haudenschild said her queries to these noted curators and scholars—“from me, this little collector”—were enthusiastically received. Meantime, she continued collecting on her regular trips to China.

Yang Fudong, City Light, 2000, video

Collecting Video And Photography

In general, photography and video, like other edition-based media, have traditionally sold for less than paintings. Despite their lower value within the market, however, these media, as previously mentioned, are important to contemporary Chinese art and often become vehicles for highly conceptual projects. Critic and scholar Lu Leiping describes photography and video as the “most experimental and pioneering media today,” and “the media that more strongly maintain the Chinese characteristics.” (15) Indeed, many artists represented in the Haudenschild collection work solely in photography and video, and several are now highly sought after in large international exhibitions and biennials.

Haudenschild describes the process of arriving at the collection’s focus on video and photography as a product of following her own instincts. “You have to trust your eye,” she said. “I just get what I like, and the video and photography were what I liked . . .. There’s no one telling me what to do.” “I did not initially intend to collect video and photography,” she said, asserting that certain works she selected, such as Yang Fudong’s The First Intellectual photographs, did not initially appear collectible. When asked why more people don’t collect video, her response was, “I don’t know. Maybe they just haven’t warmed up to it yet.”

Art: The “Alternative Asset Class”

Mainstream media outlets have described the recent growth in art investment in the overall market. “Art has emerged as a serious alternative asset class in the past few years, in spite of the disdain of art lovers and the skepticism of many dealers and collectors,” wrote Deborah Brewster in an article about art collecting that appeared in the July 13, 2007 issue of The Financial Times.(16) She continues:

“Randall Willette, who advises collectors, says: ‘There are increasingly two types of buyer in the market. The idea that you should buy purely because of your passion is becoming less common. More buyers are coming from a financial background and people want to support their buying decisions with financial information. Increasingly, art is part of the balance sheet of private clients.’” (17)

Indeed, much of the current dialogue surrounding contemporary Chinese art, and contemporary art as a whole, is in the language of finance.

Texas-based venture capitalist and wildcatter oil tycoon Robert Chaney speaks in such financial terms about his extensive contemporary Chinese art holdings. On the eve of the current exhibition of his collection at the Houston Museum of Fine Arts, Red Hot: Asian Art Now, Chaney described his strategy for “acquiring masterpieces,” using a method that is, in his words, a studied adaptation of the Warren Buffet model for investing. In the meantime, Chaney invited art dealers to sit on a panel in conjunction with the exhibition and encouraged Houston galleries to hold concurrent exhibitions of Asian art. Chaney seems determined to establish himself as an important, involved collector who also vocalizes his financial interest in the art world. (18)

Haudenschild, on the other hand, downplays herself as an investor. “I think I am not a good collector,” she joked, pausing in front of I Usually Wait Under the Arch Roof for Sunshine, a 2001 photograph by Hong Hao, who is well known for his photographs of densely accumulated objects. “For instance, the smart collector would’ve gotten [the accumulated object photos]. But me, I liked this one.”

Mrs. Haudenschild stands apart from the object-focused connoisseur as well, giving importance instead to her relationships with artists and members of the community. “For me, the collecting is just a token, a way to support these young guys . . . . The reward is that I have the opportunity to be part of their path.” She affectionately describes the relationships among the artists represented in her collection, noting that they have maintained their integrity and loyalty to one another as friends in spite of experiencing unequal degrees of recognition. “You know, there are many collectors who are buying pieces and then putting them away until they become valuable—they don’t even show the work. And that is such a waste—these people need exposure,” she said.

Eloisa Haudenschild with Chen Shaoxiong, Yang Zhenzhong, Xu Zhen, Shi Yong, Yang Fudong, and Song Tao, February 2003

Future Of The Market

Speculations on a crash or correction in the global and Chinese contemporary art markets circulate. Commenting on the market in general, Los Angeles-based billionaire collector Eli Broad was quoted in The New York Times in August 2007 as saying, “We’ve seen an unprecedented 68 appreciation of contemporary art in the thirty-five years that I’ve been collecting . . . . We’re bound to have a correction. I don’t know if it will happen at the November auctions, or it will happen next May.” (19) Other recent articles have described the Chinese market as “bubbly,” (20) and the overall market as “overblown,” (21) and “showing signs of a bubble.” (22)

Jonathan Napack wrote of a grim future, with a specific focus on China: “The current ‘boom’ in the Chinese economy is all about positioning and manipulating perceptions to help attain certain short-term goals. This infects the art world as much as anybody else.” He wrote, “It will one day crash, when the speculators who are now blindly following their ‘advisors’ realize prices have started to fall and dump their collections on the market.” (23)

Echoing Broad’s sentiments about the overall market, Eloisa Haudenschild commented on the contemporary Chinese art market’s future, saying, “I’m worried about the market. Will there be a crash or a correction? Hopefully it will be a correction. But [regardless, as a collector,] you either have integrity or you don’t.”

Li Xu (Curator), Zhang Peili (Artist and Director, New Media Department of China Art Academy), Eloisa Haudenschild, Li Xiangyang (then Executive Director, Shanghai Art Museum), and Lorenz Helbling (Director, ShanghART), Shanghai Art Museum Press Conference and Opening for Zooming into Focus, February 2004.

Questions Remain

Art collected by individuals from a different country than the origin of the artist is now a common practice. Today, there are numerous galleries dealing exclusively in contemporary Chinese art in cities around the Western hemisphere. The question of what influence the foreign collector of contemporary Chinese art has on the globalized art world is a complex one.

Lu Jie put foreign collectors in a positive light, saying, “[the artists] feel more confident to have their works sent abroad. They respect the international collectors more and believe they are the real collectors. The local collectors very often use the building of a collection as an introduction or entry into the market. The artists feel safer with their work in foreign collections.” (24) There is also the idea that foreign collectors have helped contemporary Chinese art to be seen as valuable within China. Haudenschild said that the most important works in her collection have been shown at the Shanghai Art Museum and the National Museum of China in Beijing because she knows “how important it was for these young artists to get there.”

“Foreign collectors held out [the] olive branch,” according to critic Lu Leiping, in influencing the establishment of serious interest in contemporary Chinese new media art such as that in the Haudenschild Collection. (25) Jonathan Napack wrote: “That is not to say that there is no real basis for the current foreign interest in Chinese art. This huge country, for so long off the map, is producing artists who can draw on a wellspring of images, concepts, and issues that are totally unique to China and produce works that have that elusive ‘local flavour’ increasingly rare in a globalized world.” (26) However, an often-discussed problem is that the possibility for this “local flavour” is diminished once the artwork is brought to market.

A less-discussed question, whose answer remains to be seen, is, as they become part of the global art market, how are China and other “new markets” for contemporary art changing it? Will contemporary Chinese art be subsumed by the same practice seen in the Euro-American art market of limitation and marginalization of different groups, such as women and minority artists? Consistent with Western art, works by male Chinese artists generally sell for more at auction than those of women. Living Han male artists have appeared much more prominently in the exhibitions of important collections. This also fits with the Western art historical tradition of marginalizing, ignoring, and dismissing women artists within Chinese art history. (27) Just as Chinese art, which has not reached the heights that Euro-American art does at auction, is marginalized by art world regionalism, female Chinese artists may be marginalized even more.

Here again, private collections occupy a unique space. Private collections, “driven as they are by passion, unencumbered by institutional impedimenta” (as Erickson was quoted as saying in the introduction to this essay), are truly private in nature, and do not fall under the type of public scrutiny that attempts to address and confront the gender- and ethnicity-based biases about an artwork’s value that is at work in public collections. In addition, through the funding of exhibitions, the establishment of art centers, and the lending of artworks, private collections may indirectly promote the marginalizing practices of the institutional and historical art worlds. On the other hand, private collections also present the possibility of freely challenging and questioning such biases, which, as attested to by Lorenz Helbling, is perhaps what Eloisa Haudenschild has attempted to do.

The impact an individual collector can have on the market is another question. One of the indicators by which to measure the success of an artist is his or her inclusion in important and well-known collections. It follows that the larger and more important the collection, the more influence on the market the collector has. As Napack wrote of the recent inflation, “It prices younger or novice collectors out of the market, leaving many artists vulnerable to the whims of a few deep-pocketed collectors.” (28)

Finally, it remains to be seen how the market’s inflation will affect the artworks themselves. Napack wrote, “The current infusion of cash into the market brings [first-rate galleries] some short-term profits, but it is also destructive in the long run. It inflates the expectations of artists and makes them even more exploitative of their galleries.” (29) Marc Spiegler of New York magazine wrote, “Historically bad markets tend to produce better art—there’s less pressure on artists to produce and fewer temptations to sell out, and they’re dealing only with collectors and galleries willing to ride out the hard times.” (30)

Haudenschild stressed that ultimately what remains important to her is having the ability to support emerging artists and connect people in dialogue. She said, “The inflation of the market is problematic. When I was starting to collect, it was like these guys could really benefit from my collecting their work . . .. A lot of bad work has come to auction recently.”

She said, “You know, Chinese art has become this kind of cliché.” Gesturing around the garage that houses many of the collection’s significant photographs, including Yang Fudong’s The First Intellectual series of photos (2000), Song Tao’s In Loud Crowds I Dream of Hanging Myself (2002), and Lu Chunsheng’s Water photos (2002), she said, “I’m thankful I was able to get these pieces, but I know it’s become a little bit like a fashion show.” Expressing an increased interest in funding projects, she said, “I’m not even sure I want to be a collector anymore. But I have to make a choice that I can live with.”

——
Notes

1 Plates of much of the Chinese collection can be found in the exhibition catalogue, Zooming Into Focus: Contemporary Photography and Video Art from the Haudenschild Collection, Shi Yong and Laura Zhou, eds. (Shanghai: ShanghART, 2005). Images of the Haudenschild’s other holdings may be found at www.haudenschildgarage.com.

2 David Barboza, “In China’s New Revolution, Art Greets Capitalism,” New York Times, January 4, 2007, http://www.nytimes.com/2007/01/04/arts/design/04arti.html

3 “Chinese art is now beginning to be aggressively collected by the Chinese themselves,” said Boriana Song, manager of the Chinese-owned Beijing Art Now Gallery. ”But now Chinese buyers are hungry for culture, and they see contemporary art as fashionable. The market is maturing, tastes are changing, and more than 60% of our clients are local Chinese.” Pallavi Aiyar, “Modern art scene grabbing investors,” Asia Times Online, April 11, 2006, http://www.atimes.com/atimes/China_Business/HD11Cb05.html .

4 Barboza, “In China’s New Revolution, Art Greets Capitalism.”

5 Marc Spiegler, “Five Theories On Why the Art Market Can’t Crash (and Why It Will Anyway),” New York, April 3, 2006,
http://nymag.com/arts/art/features/16542/ .

6 Britta Erickson, “Zooming Into Focus, Sliding Into History,” in Zooming Into Focus, 14–15.

7 Lu Jie, “Contemporary Art in Greater China: Under Pressure, A Discussion at the 52nd Venice Biennale,” Yishu Journal of Contemporary Chinese Art (September 2007), 8–24.

8 Jonathan Napack, “An Art Market With Chinese Characteristics,” Yishu: Journal of Contemporary Chinese Art (March 2006), 16–17.

9 Erickson, “Zooming Into Focus, Sliding Into History,” in Zooming Into Focus, 14–15.

10 Martina Koppel-Yang, “Compelling Images of a Distant Life, Video as Expansion of Reality,” in Zooming Into Focus, 71–72.

11 Erickson, “Zooming Into Focus, Sliding Into History,” in Zooming Into Focus, 14–15.

12 Ibid.

13 Information about the collection provided by the haudenschildGarage.

14 Statements by and biographical information about Mrs. Haudenschild based on a conversation at the haudenschildGarage on September 5, 2007, a telephone conversation on September 12, 2007, and e-mail exchange.

15 Lu Leiping, “When Experiment Encounters Classics,” in Zooming Into Focus, 19–21.

16 Deborh Brewster, “Investing in the art market,” Financial Times, July 13, 2007, http://www.ft.com/cms/s/2/a531d0d2-3153-11dc-891f-0000779fd2ac.html .

17 Ibid.

18 Kelly Klaasmeyer, “RED HOT: Asian Art From the Chaney Family Collection,” Houston Press, September 13, 2007, http://www.houstonpress.com/2007-09-13/culture/red-hot-business/ .

19 Robin Pogrebin, “Volatile Markets? Art World Takes Stock,” New York Times, August 29, 2007, http://www.nytimes.com/2007/08/29/arts/design/29mark.html, accessed 08/24/07 .

20 Barboza, “In China’s New Revolution, Art Greets Capitalism.”

21 Spiegler, “Five Theories On Why the Art Market Can’t Crash (and Why It Will Anyway).”

22 Sharon Reier, “Contemporary Art: Follow the Money—The Latest Status Investment is Showing Signs of a Bubble,” International Herald Tribune, January 27, 2007, http://w4.stern.nyu.edu/news/news.cfm?doc_id=6894 .

23 Napack, “An Art Market With Chinese Characteristics,” Yishu: Journal of Contemporary Chinese Art (March 2006), 16–17.

24 Lu Jie, “Contemporary Art in Greater China: Under Pressure, A Discussion at the 52nd Venice Biennale,” Yishu Journal of Contemporary Chinese Art, September/Fall 2007, 8–24.

25 Lu Leiping, “When Experiment Encounters Classics,” in Zooming Into Focus, 19–21.

26 Napack, “An Art Market With Chinese Characteristics,” Yishu: Journal of Contemporary Chinese Art (March 2006), 16–17.

27 Marsha Weidner, preface to Flowering in the Shadows, Women in the History of Chinese and Japanese Painting, ed. Marsha Weidner (Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1990), xi–xiv.

28 Napack, “An Art Market With Chinese Characteristics,” Yishu: Journal of Contemporary Chinese Art (March 2006), 16–17.

29 Ibid.

30 Spiegler, “Five Theories on Why the Art Market Can’t Crash (and Why It Will Anyway).”

Marking many important milestones, Zooming into Focus: Chinese Contemporary Photography and Video from the Haudenschild Collection (2003 – 2005) was the first exhibition of its kind in San Diego and Singapore and the first contemporary Chinese photography exhibition at the Centro Cultural Tijuana, Mexico. It was the first time the Shanghai Art Museum exhibited works on contemporary Chinese video and photography from a private collection and most importantly, it was the first retrospective exhibition of Chinese photography and video ever held at the National Art Museum of China, Beijing.

Zooming into Focus investigated the effects of accelerated change in China through the work of the country’s most talented emerging artists. The swift transformation of Chinese culture is reflected in the work of each of these represented artists who comment on contemporary Chinese urban life with intelligence, wit, foreboding and nostalgia.

The works of Cao Fei, Chen Shaoxiong, Feng Mengbo, Geng Jianyi, Hong Hao, Hu Jieming, Kan Xuan, Lui Wei, Lu Chunsheng, Shi Yong, Song Tao, Tang Maohong, Wang Youshen, Weng Fen, Xiang Liqing, Xu Zhen, Yang Fudong, Yang Yong, Yang Zhenzhong, Zhao Bandi, Zheng Gougu and Zhu Jia were included in this exhibitions. Other artists in the collection include Gu Dexin, Hai Bo, Wang Jin, Zhou Tiehai, Yu Youhan, and Zhao Nengzhi.

Lorenz Helbling and Laura Zhou supported all exhibitions and organized the Hangzhou symposium at the China Art Academy. Shi Yong was responsible for designing the Zooming into Focus catalog and the installation design of Zooming into Focus at the National Art Museum of China, Beijing.

In addition to the traveling exhibitions, two symposia were held: An International Discourse on New Chinese Video and Photography at the San Diego Museum of Art and Envisioning the Future of Contemporary Art from Different Glocal Positions at the China National Academy of Art in Hangzhou, China. Participants included Xu Bing, Waling Boers, Fan Di’an, Huang Du, Britta Erickson, Hu Fang, Yang Fudong, Gridthiya Gaweewong, Wang Gogxin, Hou Hanru, Betti-Sue Hertz, Xu Jiang, Evelyne Jouanno, Mami Kataoka, Martina Koppel-Yang, Pi Li, Barbara London, Zhang Peili, Christopher Phillips, Zheng Shengtain, Karen Smith, Rudolf Stoert, Hans Ulrich Obrist, Li Xianyang, Li Xu, Mo Zhelan, and Qiu Zhijie.

The haudenschildGarage launched their residency program in 2003 which invited Chinese artists and curators for the first time to the United States. Shi Yong and Yang Zhenzhong were the first artists in residence and Hou Hanru, Cao Fei, Yong Fudong, Laura Zhou, Lorenz Helbling, Evelyn Jouanno, and Victoria Lu were also invited to the Garage. Both Shi Yong and Yang Zhenzhong produced new works commissioned by the haudenschildGarage while in residence.

Born in Buenos Aires and currently residing in San Diego, California, Eloisa Haudenschild, has one of the largest collections for contemporary Chinese photography and video art. “Zooming into Focus: Contemporary Photography and video from the Haudenschild Collection” exhibitions in US, China and Mexico included a schedule of Symposia, artist residency programs, commissioned works and a series of lectures, performance, video dialogues and screenings in US, China and Mexico. A passionate collector and art patron, Eloisa Haudenschild was interviewed after her appearance in Hong Kong in July 2004 for her talk on collecting at Bloomberg’s Hong Kong corporate headquarters. The following interview was conducted via emails.

[EH= Eloisa Haudenschild / PW= Phoebe Wong]

PW:    When and why did you start collecting contemporary Chinese video and photography?

EH:    My husband Chris and I started travelling to China on business five years ago. My experience as a collector of Latin American Art fueled my interest and appreciation for upcoming artists in different parts of the world. I tried to find connections with the art world and young artists. After a couple of years of searching we found in Shanghai the first group of artists that are today part of our collection. It was not my initial goal to have a collection of solely photography and video, but soon I realized that they were the media in which the artists were doing the most interesting work in my opinion.

PW:    What was your first piece in the collection? In what way, if any, does it help or determine your future direction?

EH:    There was not a first piece in the collection; there were a few artists I had collected initially. They included Yang Fudong, Shi Yong, Yang Zhenzhong, Xu Zhen, Xiang Liqing, and Zheng Guogu and I met them personally in Shanghai and Guangzhou.

After my first encounter, I came back home and started doing some more research. That is how I met Hou Hanru, Huang Yongping, Wang Du, Yang Jiechang (he is part of the collection) and Martina Koeppel-Yang in Paris. Later, generous curators and artists, who are dear friends today, supported our first symposium in San Diego, California. They were Christopher Phillips, Barbara London,  Britta Erickson, Xu Bing, and Prof. Wu Hung, who wrote one of the essays for the exhibition catalogue of Zooming into Focus: Contemporary Chinese Photography and Video from the Haudenschild Collection. More fascinating people participated in our symposium in Hangzhou.

Subsequent trips brought artists Cao Fei, Chen Shaoxiong, Feng Mengbo, Hong Hao, Weng Fen, Yang Yong, Zhao Bandi, and Song Tao into the collection, all artists from Beijing, Guangzhou, Shenzhen, and Haikuo.

PW:    Did you gradually develop a theme in your collection, such as, urbanism?

EH:    Youth and urbanism seem to be very strong issues for these artists in the above-mentioned exhibition. It is expressed in different ways, often with images filled with fantasy and longing.

PW:    Indeed, the collection can be seen through the thread of “constructed visual fictions” as Wu Hung has commented. Also, you mainly collect works from artists who live and work in Shanghai and Guangzhou – two highly commercialised cities and in rapid transition.

EH:    Yes, I enjoy the unique and thoughtful way the artists from the south, they are individuals who operate independently.

PW:    To offer a better understanding of the context of the works (collection), what are the readings you suggest concerning what has given rise to these works?

EH:    Chinese Art at the Crossroads by Prof. Wu Hung and On the Mid-Ground by Hou Hanru are two very important books. Also there are a variety of articles by scholars and curators like Britta Erickson, Martina Koeppel-Yang, Hans Ulrich Obrist, Li Xu, Zheng Shengtian, and others that shed light into this new and exciting moment in contemporary Chinese art.

PW:    Are you among those collectors who also commission new work and offer residencies?

EH:    My interest in collecting extends beyond the acquisition of art works. Collecting allows me to share in the artist’s journey, to participate in the process at a point when I can make a difference in the career of these young artists. My interest extends to the creation of educational programs, residencies (Yang Zhenzhong and Shi Yong at present) and the commissioning of new pieces.

PW:    Using the work of Shi Yong as an example, how did the residency unfold?

EH:    I believe the launching of “Super Angel I” and “Super Angel II” on the internet, Shi Yong’s project in collaboration with the students at San Diego State University, was very interesting and complex. Once the data was gathered for a few months, Shi Yong came to San Diego, interacted with artists on both sides of the US/Mexico border and students. The final phase of the project was an interactive performance.

PW:    Being described as “one of the most important collections of contemporary Chinese art in the world”, indeed, how large is the Haudenschild Collection, to date? And, what is your future direction in collecting?

EH:    The exhibition Zooming into Focus is only one part of the collection. Artists like Yang Jiechang, Gu Dexin, Wang Jin, Wang Youshen, Zhou Tiehai, Hai Bo, Yu Youhan, Zhao Nengzhi are included in the collection as well. The collection, now numbering over 60 pieces, will continue growing; we are constantly in the process of buying new works from new artists and are continuing to buy more works from artists already part of the collection – there is always a long wish list.

My commitment to the artists is to continue exposing their work, having the collection travel, supporting the development of the artists, and opening opportunities to them. Most importantly is my relationship with the artists – I think of them as friends. I only collect works from artists I know personally, I live surrounded by their work, I have never sold a piece of any of our collections, and do not purchase works that I feel exploit the exotic or the oriental. I have supported the participation of many Chinese artists in exhibitions such as the Venice Bienale, “Past and Reverse” at the San Deigo Museum of Art, and as well at Berkeley University in San Francisco.

The collaboration with international institutions was key to our project as was the organisation of lectures, symposia, video screenings, and video premieres – activities that took place in the US, China and Mexico.

PW:    Your being an avid collector, I am able to the feel emotional investment in your collection and in your endeavour to bring educational programmes to it. In hindsight, do you think your collection reflects your sensibility, or, offers you a new understanding of yourself? As for the works shown in the exhibition as well as in your talk, they are edgy works – some rather provocative.

EH:    I imagine the collection reflects my interest in the discovery of new and untapped works and artists. I enjoy participating in the artist’s process and development as much as I can.

—–
Having studied in design and cultural anthropology, Phoebe Wong is a Hong Kong-based culture worker specialising in art, design and visual media. She is currently a researcher of the Asia Art Archive.

Part 1

When Eloisa Haudenschild decided to collect Chinese contemporary art mainly in the forms of photography and video, her American colleagues did not show particular interest about her ‘adventurous’ plan. From a traditional point of view, art works from these young Chinese artists are obviously not ‘classical’ enough; furthermore, the nature of photography and video is hard to preserve and easy to be duplicated. Therefore, these media forms are generally avoided by collectors. However, when Zooming into Focus: Chinese Contemporary Photography and Video from the Haudenschild Collection came into existence in San Diego, California at the SDSU Art Gallery, with vivid personalities and full of vitality, Eloisa had made her point clear: “never be afraid, always trust your eyes.”

In fact, Zooming into Focus is not new to the Chinese contemporary art community. On one hand, as a touring exhibition, it was shown at the Shanghai Art Museum last year; on the other hand, these works have traveled to the Venice Biennial, Italy; Shanghai Biennial; Kassel, Germany; Yokohana Triennial, Japan; The Museum of Modern Art, New York; Mori Art Museum, Tokyo, they have been represented in China and also sent to international cultural exchange events. However, the Zooming into Focus re-exhibition at the National Art Museum of China has its legendary and historic significance.

It is common knowledge that the National Art Museum of China (NAMOC) made a clear distinction with experimental arts since the gun shooting incident of 1989 at the Beijing Contemporary Art Exhibition. Only after the Shanghai Biennial (2000) and the Guangzhou Triennial (2002) the Chinese government started lifting the ban of conceptual arts such as installations and images. However, NAMOC, due to the fact that it is located in the capital, maintained its insistence on “framed” art work. Although the exhibition Era of Opening up in celebration of the opening of the new permanent hall had included a few new media art works as well as ‘framed’ art works, but they were still main stream compared with ‘unframed’ ones.

The National Art Exhibition and the Beijing Biennial Art Exhibition held by the Art Association also excluded ‘unframed’ works, although the quality and quantity of new media artists, conceptual artists, and non-government art organizations in Beijing were far out-numbered anywhere else in the country. In fact, ‘framed’ or ‘unframed’ have no direct relationship with the quality of the works. Many avant-garde experimental arts had also adopted traditional media such as ‘framed’ paintings or sculptures; at the same time, art forms like behavioral, installation, photography and video, with decades of history, produced many classical works.

Officials at the Ministry of Culture understood the connections, and under the condition ‘to seek common ground while reserving differences’, they held many contemporary art exhibitions mainly in the form of new media art as international cultural exchange projects. For example, Living in Time, Hamburger Bahnhof, Hamburg, Germany, 2002; Centre National d’Art et de Culture, Georges Pompidou; and Venice Biennial China Art Hall, with the free and diversified art ecology from both in and outside the country.

NOMAC as the symbol of Art Center has lost the need to be a vacuum fortress, the ice has started melting between the so called ‘framed’ and ‘unframed’ art. At this moment, foreign collectors have held out olive branch, Zooming into Focus therefore has become the first to hold a Chinese contemporary photography and video exhibition at the National Museum of Art.

Part 2

‘Experiments’ and ‘classics’ are not totally opposite concepts. From the tense perspective, ‘experiment’ is inclined to the continuous tense, while ‘classic’ belongs to the past tense. However, ‘experiments’ do not necessarily generate ‘classics’; the factors of ‘classics’ are rather complicated. The word ‘classics’ has been paraphrased as: works that are authoritative. However, who defines ‘authoritativeness’ Not individuals or organizations. In fact, politics, religions, economics or pure art forms can all influence whether a work is ‘classic’ or not. Therefore, time is the real judge. ‘Classics’ are those artworks proven by time.

Although the Zooming into Focus collection will be exhibited at the National Arts Museum of China (NAMOC), which symbolizes ‘authoritativeness’, one cannot simply classify these works as ‘classics’. The exhibition cannot be considered an experimental art exhibition either. As the history of photography and video works as experimental art has already become the past, one could say their ‘experiments’ are the past and present tense.

So, what motivated Eloisa to collect such works, taking meticulous care of them, and introducing them to people with joy? She is so confident: “the reason I only collect video and photography is because in my opinion it is the media that produces the most interesting works.”

Similar opinion is held by Per Bjarne Boym, former director of National Art Museum of Norway, when he was the curator of A Facile Task – Shanghai Puzzle (2000-2004) he too selected only videos. When the writer asked him about the reason, he said “most of the best works I have seen in Shanghai are videos”. In addition, works shown at Kassel, Germany and Venice Biennial, Italy in recent years, were mainly video or video installations: such as Yang Fudong’s An Estranged Paradise and Seven Intellectuals; Chen Shaoxiong’s Anti-Terrorism Variety; Xu Zhen’s Rainbow; Yang Zhenzhong’s Let’s Puff; Feng Mengbo’s Q4U, etc.

Is the Western judgment of ‘good or bad’ prejudiced toward China? There is no doubt that both opinions have a personal aesthetic, however, objectivity still exists. Looking back at the evolvement of Chinese contemporary art since the middle of the 1990s, we have to recognize that photography and video are the most experimental and pioneering media today, it is also the media that more strongly maintains the Chinese characteristics.

In fact, after the 85’s new tide, pioneer Chinese contemporary artists have gradually become used to Western art forms such as installations, conceptual, behavioral, and political pop, and they have started utilizing this new language in their work. Photography originally was not the prevailing art form, in the beginning, it was used as a tool to record conceptual or behavioral art, the same phenomenon later appeared in video art. Avant-garde artists’ experiments have gradually changed from indigenous artist’s groups to artists working independently.

Many artists tired of political pop symbols, resisted western culture colonialism and the fast consuming market abroad and started looking for more suitable art languages in which they could express themselves better and more freely. Their progress mirrors the country’s progress of modernization, commercialization and urbanization. The prevalence of electronic images, digital techniques, and the rapid proliferation of the consuming culture extend the new life of photography and video as the revolution of art language; more importantly, it has changed the vision, imagination, and the way of narrations and criticisms of the artists.

Photography and video have become the media art format growing at the highest speed and the largest in numbers of works produced overnight. Conceptual photography and video have become more independent and mature symbols including, ’sensibility’ which has emerged again in works, differing completely from the artists of earlier days, who used photography and video as pure tools of recording. Some artists have begun to consciously use photography or video as the main language of their experimental creations. artists began to connect the relationship between concepts and images, and to challenge photography and video’s indigenous characteristics of narrative and authenticity. When ’sensitivity’ returned to the language of images, concepts did not disappear, they had been quietly hidden, together with tremendous narratives and prolonged dry preach.

Surreal humor and utopia’s poetry acquired the new password to open the real world. This is not a new invention; it comes from the tradition of Eastern Lao Zhuang’s philosophy and Dynasty We, Jin’s spirits of unconcern of fame and wealth, in contrast to the western’s rhetoric origin of Greek comedy and tragedy. This might be the ever lasting talisman for the bright artists, once the humor and poetry are lost, art will become tasteless and suffocating. This is how classics were inherited and led to the new experiment: photography and video’s new battlefield ‘fictitious reality’ or ‘combined reality’.

In conceptual photography, various poses combined with the power of digital composition are no doubt becoming the major weapon. Representative works of this kind can be found in this exhibition: Weng Fen’s On The Wall is a typical work which depicts China’s urban culture, a young girl riding on a wall representing the boundary between new and old, looking up to mirage-like skyscrapers, with aesthetic fantasy.

Zhao Bandi’s Zhao Bandi & Panda openly conspires with public media, he and his toy panda played the fashion public welfare advertisement series’ ghostly appearing everywhere —- subways, airports and streets, mocking the over – urbanization caused by morbidity, pollution, violence, unemployment, drug addiction, and smoking. In fact, such arrangement has a close relationship with digital combination.

The above two works have both borrowed from digital combination. Only with software such as photoshop, artists could freely modify realities, as magical as wizardry. Yang Zhenzhong attempted to use digital combination to make his Lucky Family photography series as early as 1995. Charmingly naïve chicks were simulated to become different family members, the piece was achieved by using a digital combination technique. Xiang Liqing’s Rock Never cloned many stereotyped Chinese city residences and pieced them together to create many surreal pictures. Shi Yong directly cloned himself in his work You cannot clone it, but you can buy it photographs.

Is this a game? Or is it a nightmare? Maybe it just like what artist Zheng Guogu said: ” I’m using photos to play a game…it has a special charm to me—game is a kind of practice, thinking does not waste any film. I know thinking in this way is only a matter of time to me.”

With respect to conceptual video art, distinctions are also becoming clear: early stage conceptual video was interested in stony and tedious video techniques, originated by artists’ rebellion against the commercialized TV media. While the new generation’s conceptual videos are more infatuated with exaggerated, humorous and dramatic expressions, absurdities directly became the structure of narration in order to choke people up.

For instance, Chen Shaoxiong’s Anti-terrorism Variety installation uses computer animation to suggest the many ways how skyscrapers could avoid being struck by aircraft, using fantasy to mock the chaotic world.

Xu Zhen’s Shouting and Rainbow videos on the other hand, are endowed with a power that is instantly explosive, Shouting played the devilment of shouting in a crowd, using the violence of the human voice. Rainbow showed a body whipped and gradually turned red by a disturbing sound, the artist has applied free and relaxed appearances to the implication of violence. Yang Zhenzhong’s 922 Rice Corns looks at the chicken’s instinct (eating the rice corns) and the human’s futile efforts (counting the rice corns) sneering at those monomaniacs in real life.

The other type of experimental short film came from the film aesthetics experience of non- narrative, utopia’s poetic scenes.

Yang Fudong’s well controlled abstract vocabulary and chaotic space-time turned out ambiguous images in City Light where he is daydreaming and sleepwalking in the city; while Seven Intellectuals was his searching for the password to communicate with ancient scholars their ideal way of living.

Lu Chunsheng’s The History of Chemistry was built upon images of fathomless, paradoxical esteem and introspection; its irrational and mysterious statements construct an illusory world created by massive truths.

At the same time, strong wishes of anti-narrative induced the artists to explore the possibilities of photography and video to interfere with space and human activities. Photo installation, video installation, and interactive installation were coming to existence. For example, Chen Shaoxiong’s Street pieces together two dimensional street scenes into three dimensional models introducing them into the even bigger urban space; then re-recording it onto photography, wandering freely between two dimensional and three dimensional reality and illusiveness.

Another example is Song Tao’s The Floor, which also presents ordinary black and white life images on floorboards, clearing up the boredom and reconstructing life’s interests.

Video installations are easier to be combined with interactions: Yang Zhenzhong’s Let’s Puff is a multi-screen video interaction. In the city scenes being blown away by the girl, audiences may further experience the ‘unbearable lightness’ of life.

Hu Jieming’s Up Up on the other hand, extends the interaction to communicate with audiences. In the 25 televisions vertically installed videos  on a steel structure, 25 meters in total height, A little girl is doomed to climbing up her way like Sisyphus, however, no one will be able to see the moment she arrives at the top, since any surrounding sound could make her pause or drop back.

Additionally, photography and video art’s fast evolvement is directly related to China’s economic environment. Before 2000, the entire art market and exhibition market were at a preliminary stage, most artists’ ‘unframed’ works were fairly poor, and artists needed other jobs as teachers or designers to make a living. Chances of getting sponsorship on making art works or exhibitions were minimal. Therefore, plans of large scale and expensive installation works had to be suspended. Early behavioral art was treated by the Chinese government as evil since it involved pornography and violence.

Photography and video gradually became a more convenient and workable new media. Although the equipment was not cheap, it was relatively easy to borrow; the prevailing personal computer and digital technology allowed for a more “Do It Yourself” (DIY) editing and production. In comparison, photography and video the media lowest in cost, became naturally more widespread.

Due to the restriction of economic conditions, Chinese artists are used to adjust to low costs and small productions. Film proportion is normally kept very high, such as Ju Anqi’s There is a strong wind in Beijing, Yang Zhenzhong’s 922 Rice Corns and others, they all kept film proportion at 1:1. It is not rare to see artists become actors for each other.

Another feature worth noticing is that all the works in this exhibition come from indigenous Chinese artists’ art practice. In fact, considerable differences exist between indigenous and overseas Chinese artists, in terms of ideology and substance of art practice. Overseas Chinese artists under the Western contemporary art environment are more concerned with the origin and success of Chinese culture and the process of globalization. On the other hand local Chinese artists prefer to proceed from China’s modern realities and through experimenting with art languages, they want to present a more personal opinion on society’s explosive change. Therefore, although indigenous art practices utilized common art language — photography and video, no doubt persists in a realism with Chinese characteristics, particularly bringing up questions and introspections on China’s urbanization and fast commercial development.

Part 3

The Zooming into Focus exhibition has recalled some photography and video experiments of China indigenous artists’ since the 1990s and at the same time has emphasized on the past continuous tense of these experiments, which is a past tense.

I would like to bring us back the topic of this article—when experiments come across classics. There are two arguable statements: the first is whether the assumption of ‘experiments come across classics’ is correct? Second, if the assumption is correct, how does experimentation continue?

In fact, the meaning of ‘experiments’ and ‘classics’ are pointing at different subjects. Relatively speaking, experimentation is granted by the artists, however, the meaning of ‘classics’ is originated by the audiences.

Italo Calvino mentioned in his book Why Read the Classics “The classics are the books of which we usually hear people say, ‘I am re-reading . . . ‘ and never ‘I am reading . . . ‘” It pointed here that ‘classics’ is defined by the readers. Pual Connerton made his point in his book How Societies Remember .

Therefore, the creator of the work does not have control whether the work will be classified as ‘classic’; it also does not have any direct relationship with experimentation.

Social memory inevitably influences the creator, as Pual Connerton indicated. The realist is that government permission greatly transformed the original art system. However, experimental art is facing the possibility of systematization and commercialization; this change could be so fast that there will be no time for preparation. Generally speaking, a “classical” work is treated as the standard of aestheticism by art authorities and has become the art market’s favorite.

However, if getting lost in all of the above and confused by the glory of outside commercial and authority of the “classical”, the essence of “classical” will be neglected. This neglect may be the biggest threat to art to rapidly become commercial and systemized – once overly consumed, art experiments and creativity will not be able to differentiate itself from fashion consumption. Let’s keep in mind that in a commercial society, the scope of new and old is not substantive, but only superficial. This is the major difference between art and fashion.

We have to recognize the formidable “consumption power” of the art system and the art market. History has already shown us the outcome of this self –contradiction. Realist Futurists and Dadaists who intended to destroy art as a system turned out to make their works ‘classics’. It is art experimentation and evolution that formidably pushes art history, the art system and the art market’s “self discipline”.

Under this new environmental language, how will artists confront the temptation of systematization and commercial authorities? How will they overcome the inertia problem of creation?   How will they continue with new experiments?

Looking forward …

It was in 1988 when Zhang Peili realized his 30 X 30, one of the first examples of Chinese video art. 30 X 30, a two hour sequence showing the artist breaking and reassembling a mirror over and over again, with its sobriety and its obvious Chan-Buddhist absurdity – at the time called grey humor – is not only typical of the contemporary Chinese art of the late 1980s, but also shows the main characteristics of early Chinese video art. Fixed camera positions, endlessly drawn out shots, underlying the absurdity and strangeness of the image or performance documented, or again the medium of the video installation, typical of Zhang’s later works, were main features of Chinese video art until the middle of the 1990s.

Since 1988, fifteen years have passed, and video art in China today is as pluralistic and colorful as Chinese society. Next to Zhang Peili, Wang Gongxin, Wang Jianwei, Chen Shaoxiong, Hu Jieming, Li Yongbing, Liang Juhui, Song Dong, Qiu Zhijie, Wu Wenguang, Xu Tan, Yan Lei, Zhu Jia, and Feng Mengbo belong to a first group of artists working with video and new media in China. Zhang, once pioneer, is today the head of the first multi media art department at a Chinese academy, the New Media Art Center of the China Fine Arts Academy in Hangzhou. Zhang Peili’s style, once experimental, today rather tends to be academic, still showing the quest to create a kind of universal visual language and to set aesthetic and technical standards.

The emergence of this kind of academism within the field of the relatively young Chinese video art guarantees the backing necessary for experimentally working younger generations. Since the mid-1990s, with more easily accessible technical equipment and information, video has become a major form of expression of young Chinese artists. A young generation primarily experimenting with video, film, and other new media has emerged in the urban centers, in particular in Beijing, Shanghai and Guangzhou. These young artists, mainly born in the 1960s and 1970s – for example Cao Fei, Jiang Zhi, Jin Jiangbo, Lu Chunsheng, Shi Yong, Weng Fen, Xu Zhen, Yang Fudong, Yang Zhenzhong, Zheng Guogu and others – not only gained immediate recognition in the Chinese art scene but also garnered success on an international level rather quickly. Since the late 1990s video and multi media art works of Chinese artists have been selected for numerous international video festivals and have been presented at high-profile exhibitions, such as the documenta X in Kassel in 1997 (Feng Mengbo, Wang Jianwei) or the documenta XI (2002) (Feng Mengbo,Yang Fudong) or again the 50th Venice Biennial (2003) (Cao Fei, Chen Shaoxiong, Gu Dexin, Jiang Zhi, Liang Juhui, Yang Fudong, Yang Zhenzhong, Zhang Peili, Zhu Jia).

The Haudenschild Collection is the first collection focusing on Chinese photography and video art, thus giving witness to the importance of these media. The present exhibition features video works from the collection by artists born in the 1960s and 1970s and working in the Southern Chinese urban centers Shanghai and Guangzhou. Certainly, this generation’s enormous interest in the medium video cannot merely be ascribed to the increasing accessibility of technical equipment and know-how. Having grown to maturity in a society in rapid transition, where the fleetness of change makes an individual’s life’s perspective appear totally unpredictable and where omnipresent media play major roles in determining the perception of what is real and what is imaginary, video (and photography alike) might be a most adequate and direct medium not only to capture the overwhelming changes of personal life, urban environment, and of society, but also to convey the feelings of uncertainty and vagueness felt by the majority of the young generation. Yang Fudong describes these feelings as a distance to life that is evident in the videos and films of his contemporaries on a conceptual and on an aesthetic level. Alienation and perception are major themes, and the wish to grasp reality and take hold of this ever-changing life, is at the origin of the quest to integrate art into life, or to consider art a “by-product of life”. On an aesthetic level this distance generates a kind of poetic melancholic mood and humor typical of this generation of artists.

Yang Fudong (1971) graduated from the China Fine Arts Academy in Hangzhou and moved to Shanghai in 1998. The so-called literati short films, as well as the Chinese cinema of the 1920s/1930s and the Yuefen-style typical of the Shanghai petit bourgeoisie of the early 20th century are important references for Yang. His strongly narrative videos, films, and photographic series can be read as allegories of the alienated city-dwellers’ lives. The narratives enfold sometimes in high-rise apartment and office-buildings, the typical environment of the new middle-class Chinese of the metropolis, the so-called “white-collar” (bailing), like for example in “City Lights” (“Chengshi zhi guang”) and “Honey” (“Mi”) – both part of the present exhibition – sometimes in a dreamlike setting reminiscent of traditional Chinese gardens and the Chinese literati landscape, like for example in “Su Xiaoxiao” (2001), “Tonight’s Moon” (2000), and “Liulan” (2003). “City Lights” (2000, 6 minutes, color) recounts the life of such a white-collar, performing his prescribed every-day ritual, sometimes feeling like standing besides himself and being left alone with his solitary but ready-made dreams of a modern life. The stereotype of him holding and passing on an umbrella occurs throughout the video. “Honey” (2003, color), evocative of some ominous spy-story, similarly is set in some apartment and backyard of high-rise buildings in the metropolis. The image of a young mundane girl moving from one place to another, or in the company of blankly gazing, discreet men in Mao-suits appears throughout the video. Close-ups of her body and dress might hint to the nature of relationship between the protagonists. But the story Yang recounts never gets explicit, only suggesting the possibility of their interaction through the creation of a never fulfilled suspense. Even though Yang Fudong’s works have a strong narrative component their message is never clear. Yang rather creates a filament of allusive images, underscored by sound and text, letting the viewer alone with a multitude of ambiguous insinuations that he calls “abstract imagery”. According to Yang, “abstract imagery” can convey the inexplicit feelings of the individual and engender a transformation of perception.

The transformation of perception is also a concern of Shanghai-based Yang Zhenzhong. Yang (1968) who graduated from the oil painting department of the China Fine Arts Academy in Hangzhou in 1993, started working with video and photography in 1995. His approach is rather metaphorical than narrative. His videos often start from witty ideas, using the repetition of images and the rhythmic coordination of sound, language and image. “922 Rice Corns” (“922 ke mi”, 2000, 8 min., color) plays with the interaction of the image of a cock and a chicken pecking grains of rice and the sound of a male and female voice counting the number of pecked grains. “Let’s Puff” (“Wo chui”, 2003, Zone of Urgency, 50th Venice Biennial) similarly starts from the interplay of two images: a young woman puffing and a busy street. Every time the woman is puffing, the image of the street moves away from the viewer. The rhythm of the traffic and the angle of perception are altered with the rhythm of the woman’s breath. Yang’s often playful videos could be called visual reflections. Individual perception and experience, as for example in his “I Will Die” (“Wo hui si de”, 2000), are the starting point for the transformation of perception, as Yang points out: “Sometimes I feel that if you deal with individual experience on a certain level it becomes universal experience. “That’s not to say I think theory is of no importance, actually art is also not that important, they are all the by-products of life.”

Guangzhou-based Chen Shaoxiong (1962) who graduated from the Guangzhou Fine Arts Academy is one of the pioneers of Chinese video art. With him, the concept to lead art back into life, or to consider art a by-product of life takes a more radical and subversive stance. As with other artists of the Cantonese avant-garde, for him the creation of an allusive imagery is less important. Being a member of the Big Tail Elephants Working Group (Daweixiang gongzuo xiaozu), called “urban guerrilla” by Hou Hanru , Chen searches a direct interaction with his urban environment. The perception of reality again is the artist’s concern. Chen’s early videos of performances, such as “Five Hours” (1993), as well as his “Sight-Adjusters” (1996), installations with split-screen videos, and his “Streets” (1997- today), a series of three-dimensional photo collages, tend to reveal perception as a conceptual construct depending on outer conditions, such as the rapidly changing urban environment. “Figure Anti-Terrorism” (“Huayang fankong”, 2003, Zone of Urgency, 50th Venice Biennial), which is part of the present exhibition, is Chen Shaoxiong’s answer to the global anti-terrorism campaign. The computer-generated video installation consists of a chessboard – the figures are airplanes and buildings – and two video projections that show high-rise buildings in the southern metropolis of Guangzhou using different tricks to avoid the impact of approaching airplanes. Chen’s work is not only a witty comment on current events, but also a reflection on how the perception of the urban environment changed after September 11. On a more general level, Chen’s work explores how the real-time mediation of a real event that had formerly only been thinkable as imaginary redefined the limits of perception. Within these newly defined limits, video can act as an expansion of reality.

San Diego and Shanghai could not be more different. The sprawling Southern Californian suburb doesn’t have much in common with the chaotic Chinese metropolis it faces across the Pacific. Yet two San Diegans, Tina Yapelli and Eloisa Haudenschild, have found common cause with Shanghai through the unlikely medium of modern art. With the zeal of the recently converted, they have organized Zooming into Focus: Contemporary Chinese Photography and Video from the Haudenschild Collection, an ambitious series of exhibitions and lectures starting this October, in hopes of bringing together two disparate cities and cultures.

Avant-garde art like that to be shown in San Diego has been evolving out of Mainland Chinese cities since the country’s opening, paralleling economic development and attracting international attention for its veiled social and political criticism. The global art world helped foment the emergence of modern Chinese art with funds and publicity, but the bulk of its foreign audience has thus far been European; exposure in America has been mostly limited to sporadic big exhibitions and private galleries in the big cities. Zooming into Focus marks not only San Diego’s first introduction to such works but also heralds a broadened American exposure to the artistic movements-and social changes–coming out of today’s China.

Zooming into Focus includes two separate exhibitions at the San Diego State University (SDSU) Art Gallery; one of photography runs from October 25 to December 6 and another of video art from January 31 to April 21 next year. The works in Zooming into Focus come entirely from the extensive private Haudenschild collection, unique particularly for a focus on China’s edgier young artists.

Chris and Eloisa Haudenschild discovered Chinese art only a few years ago during a business trip to China. Mrs. Haudenschild developed an immediate passion for modern Chinese art. She began collecting during a number of follow up visits, starting with one in November 2002 to the Shanghai Biennale and Guangzhou Triennial. It was shortly after that trip that she encountered Ms. Yapelli, director of the SDSU Art Gallery, at an InSite event. “Eloisa was talking about her trip to Shanghai, and so I went over to see her acquisitions and was bowled over by the work,” recalls Ms. Yapelli. “I caught her enthusiasm, and we started thinking about how to exhibit the collection.”

Zooming into Focus is strategically timed to ride a wave of large Chinese art events in America in the spring and summer of 2004. The crowded schedule marks a turning point from the previous fits and starts of China’s avant-garde’s exposure in the U.S., such as the 1998 Asia Society exhibition “Inside Out: New Chinese Art”. Sporadic exhibitions followed over the years, including New York Museum of Modern Art’s 1996 Chinese video art exhibition, featuring Wu Wenwang and Feng Mengbo, and the Guggenheim’s seminal 1998 “China: 5,000 Years” A few galleries specializing in modern Chinese art also sprouted up in New York. No critical mass, however, emerged sufficient to force a mainstream awareness or inclusion of Chinese artists in the top tier of recognized international artists.

This is partially due to aspects of the Chinese art scene that are still resistant to internationalization. Christopher Phillips, a curator at the International Center of Photography in New York and a participant in the San Diego symposium, observes that China’s geographic decentralization deters outsiders, and U.S. museum have difficulty finding curators with preexisting China background. “Visiting curators or critics can’t just go to one city, they have to invest time in China, and go to the studios, talk to the artists, build relationships over time, and learn to maneuver within a very sophisticated social network.” He claims that an even stronger factor is how Chinese artists resist the gallery system and tend to sell directly from their studios, which prevents the artists from being promoted and traveling internationally.

Despite such impediments, however, galleries and museums in Europe and Asia have managed to incorporate a sizable coterie of Chinese artists in their exhibitions. Yet only recently has the American art world begun paying equivalent attention to China. “We Americans are as provincial as the next people, and mostly prefer our own culture,” observes Barbara London, curator of video art at New York’s Museum of Modern Art and also a panalist in the Zooming into Focus symposium.

Ms. London adds that America lacks a formal cultural attache and budget for cultural exchanges, focusing instead just on trade missions. Countries like the U.K., France and Italy actively promote their national cultures in China, forging official-level personal connections with China’s art world, and the resultant opportunities for cooperation are evidenced in theater and music as well as art. For example, Britain’s “Think U.K.” campaign, in addition to subsidizing China tours by the Royal Shakespeare Company and British rock bands, sponsors a number of leading Chinese artists, curators, dramatists and writers to study arts management in England.

Events like Zooming into Focus herald a growing awareness of China in American art circles. Exhibitions lead to coverage and curiosity, which in turn lead to more exhibitions. Although there are only five or six major American collectors of modern Chinese art, some, like the Haudenschilds, are using their connections in the American art world to spread awareness.

Meanwhile, Chinese artists increasingly crop up in international shows, suggesting increased acceptance: Most recently Shanghai artist Zhou Tiehai contributed a much- discussed portrait of Rudy Guliani with elephant dung to the Whitney Museum’s “The American Effect” show. Modern Asian art in general is becoming increasingly trendy in America; venues like the Seattle Art Museum have voiced commitment to including more of modern Asia, and this fall the Asia Society will hold its second annual Asian Contemporary Art Week. Moreover, according to Melissa Chiu, contemporary art curator at the Asia Society, “[I]n the U.S when most people say Asian contemporary art, they really mean Chinese.”

But the rising profile of Chinese contemporary art in America is important beyond critical circles: as China’s economic and political power grows, so does the value of Americans seeing a rawer, more accurate view of its realities than the popular stylized Chinoiserie. Chinese contemporary art, after all may be one of the best reflections of China’s enormous transformations over the past decade.

This international acclaim is even more beneficial for Chinese art, which relies almost entirely on foreign funding, given the low domestic interest in more alternative art. Furthermore, overseas critical approval grants legitimacy to a genre that until a few years ago was viewed as political dissent rather than art. Foreign interest has forced China’s stodgy cultural bureaus to grudgingly recognize the artistic value of the indigenous avant-garde. For example, the Shanghai Art Museum will exhibit works from the Haudenschild collection in the spring of 2004. Without being first shown in America, exported and re-imported, the government would be reluctant to give such edgy works such either mainstream venue or state sanction.

The Haudenschild Collection focuses solely on the media of photography and video. In this respect, it is unique among the increasing number of collections of contemporary art from China. Starting in the late 1990s, Eloisa and Chris Haudenschild travelled regularly to China and slowly acquainted themselves with local art scenes. They started their explorations in Shanghai, where they bought their first pieces from artists such as Yang Fudong, Shi Yong, and Xu Zhen. Zooming into Focus: Chinese Contemporary Photography and Video from the Haudesnchild Collection debuted at the San Diego State University Art Gallery in October 2003. It was subsequently shown in Tijuana, Singapore and Shanghai only to end its travels with a grand finale at the National Museum in Beijing from November 5 to 20, 2005 becoming the first retrospective show of contemporary Chinese photograph and video to ever be held there. Although displayed in the side wing of the museum, the show occupied an impressive 1,000 square meters and showcased nearly fifty photo and video works by fourteen artists – the vast majority of them belonging to the Haudenschild Collection, with a few added pieces requested from artists to make the exhibition more representative of the overall field.

The first piece to greet visitors upon entering the exhibition space was Xu Zhen’s video Shout (1997), a version of which was also exhibited in the first Chinese national pavilion at the 2005 Venice Biennale. For this work, Xu Zhen positioned himself at busy intersections and then proceeded to periodically emit a scream. The reactions of passerby are videotaped from the artist’s perspective. While many of them are unfazed and go on about their business – life in the hectic metropolis having made them immune to unusual external stimulation – others turn around and stare, either to determine the origin of the scream or to simply gawk incredulously at its emitter. The video is highly intuitive in its interaction with the people on the street and immediately engages the viewer, thus making a great entrance piece for the exhibition.

The eerie sound of slapping lured the visitor further into the exhibition space. At the far end of the corridor a narrow crevice in the wall that both revealed and obscured another of Xu Zhen’s video work Rainbow (1998). The piece records a naked person’s back being violently slapped. All the viewer can see is the person’s flesh increasingly turning red. In the beginning, the distinct markings of hands are visible but slowly these prints merge into a large, indeterminate patch of redness. The video was installed in a freestanding cube with only a narrow entrance. Emulating a crack in the wall, the installation effectively conjured up the feeling of voyeurism. It forcefully catapulted the viewer into a state of conflict where the enjoyment of the artwork seems to equate itself with the enjoyment of pain, which in turn elicits a certain degree of revulsion. Beyond doubt, this push-and-pull effect makes Xu Zhen’s work more haunting then usual, especially as the muffed sound of slapping lingers and accomanies the visitor as he or she continues on to view the phtographs installed int ehoutside space of the room.

The majority of the photographs displayed in Zooming into Focus reflected the current canon of contemporary photography from China as it has been established by international museum and gallery exhibitions. A whole wall was dedicated to various prints from Zhao Bandi’s Zhao Bandi and Panda (1999) series and another to nine works from Yang Fudong’s Don’t Worry, It Will Be Better (2000) series. Cao Fei’s rabid-dog Elle cover girl in Beautiful Dog Brows (2002) lasciviously glared down at the viewer and prints from Chen Shaoxiong’s Street (1998), Hong Hao’s Mr. Hong Usually Wait Under the Arch Roof for Sunshine (2001), Feng Mengbo’s Q4U (2003), Weng Feng’s Sitting on the Wall (2002) and Yang Zhenzhong’s Lucky Family (1995) were all also prominently displayed. The majority of video works were also among those already widely disseminated in the international art circuit. In addition to the ones mentioned above, visitors could see Chen Shaoxiong’s Anti-Terrorism Variety (2001), Yang Zhenzhong’s 922 Rice Corns (2000) and I Will Die (2002), as well as Zhao Bandi’s The Sotry of Panda Man Losing His Love (2003).

But among these “old-timers” were also some less well-known but equally important works. Zhu Jia’s early video work Forever (1994) for example was displayed along with the tricycle to which the artist had tied the camera that filmed the piece. For twenty-seven minutes the viewer was taken on a head-spinning, ten kilometer tour through beijing. The blurry and ceaseless rotating images deny the viwer’s ability to situate themselves in space as well as in time. In like other works that focus on and document the change in Beijing’s urban landscape, Zhu Jia’s video seems to point at the constants of urban life, such as the chatter of passerby, cars honking, rushed footsteps, loud arguments at busy intersections and vendors shouting to promote their wares. Another piece that stood out were the two prints of Song Tao’s In Loud Crowds I Dream of Hanging Myself (2002). In front of the big black iron gate of a colonial looking building, a young man is propped up as if he had been hanged. The fact that the cord above his head is attached to a small balloon only seems to become clear upon second glance, with the iron gate morphing into an evil planck mask glaring down at its victim. Th absolute stillness of the image and its absurd construction such the view into a void where reality is suspended and emotion reigns supreme. It gives Song Tao’s work a mediative aura but equally makes the viewer shrink back from this sombre state of dislocation and alienation. The overall effet was haunting, especially as the echos of Xu Zhen’s slapping still resonated throughout the exhibition space.

While it is amazing that the National Art Museum allowed for such a show to be displayed in its hallowed halls, the censor’s prying eyes could not be completely prevented from finding something to offend them. The huge black-and-white print of Liu Wei’s humorous take on traditional Chinese shan shui aesthetic entitled Landscape (2000) illustrates a foggy mountainous vista reminiscent of Guilin’s famous peaks. But the mountains are not made of stone and vegetation but of human buttocks. In some cases pubic hair and genitalia are visible as well as mosquitos feasting on their fleshy hosts. Sadly, a week after the opening, Landscape had disappeared from the exhibition walls. It seems — as if to put it crudely– it hauled ass.

Photography became art again in China in the late 1970s and 1980s. Whereas this visual technology was largely reduced to a propaganda tool during the first thirty years of the People’s Republic, it reconnected with individual expression after the Cultural Revolution (1966-76) was over. The April Photographic Society – the first unofficial photo club in post-Cultural Revolution China — emerged in 1978; the exhibition it organized in Beijing the following year, entitled Nature, Society, Human, attracted a huge audience hungry for images outside the official media. The 1980s witnessed a delayed introduction of the major schools and masters of western photography from before World War II. Their techniques as well as social and artistic aspirations influenced a generation of young Chinese photographers, whose first goal, not unexpectedly, was to regain photography’s credibility as a record of real social events and human lives. The result was a sustained “documentary movement” from the 1980s to the early 1990s, which produced many works with a strong political agenda, either exploring the dark side of society – poverty, deprivation, social stratification, and political injustice — or glorifying an idealized, timeless Chinese civilization unspoiled by Communist ideology.

This initial process, which Chinese critics have termed a “Photographic New Wave” (sheying xinchao), lasted about a decade and laid the ground for a new generation of photographers to undertake wide-ranging artistic experiments beyond realism and symbolism. Photography became linked to an ongoing experimental art movement in the early and mid-1990s, employed by avant-garde artists to record performances and staged scenes. Since then, a brand of image-making, often referred to by Chinese artists and critics as “experimental photography” (shiyan sheying), has grown into a broad trend; its continuous, exciting development over the past decade has been characterized by non-stop reinvention, abundant production, multifaceted experimentation, and cross-fertilization with other art forms. While “experimental photographers” find inspiration in performance, installation, and multi-media art, painters, performers, and installation artists routinely employ photography in their work, sometimes even reinventing themselves as full-time photographers. Photography now plays a central role in contemporary Chinese art because of its openness to new visual technology such as digital imaging, and because it most effectively challenges the conventional boundaries between fiction and reality, art and commerce, object and subject, thereby inspiring and permeating various kinds of art experiments in China.

Zooming into Focus: Contemporary Chinese Photography from the Haudenschild Collection, the exhibition that this catalogue documents, showcases some of the most recent developments in this experimental art. Most works on display were created in the past five years, while a considerable number date from 2000-2002. The exhibition thus has an acute focus on contemporaneity in a twofold sense – the contemporaneity of China as a rapidly changing society, and the contemporareity of photography as a constantly self-inventing art form. In terms of subject matter, these images demonstrate the artists’ overwhelming concern with their living environment and their own identity.

A striking aspect of Chinese cities in the 1990s and 2000s has been a never-ending destruction and construction. Old houses are coming down everyday to make room for new hotels and shopping malls. Thousands and thousands of people have been relocated from the inner city to the outskirts; in their place a new “urban generation” has begun to invent a globalized culture for itself. This situation is the context and the content of several works in this exhibition. For example, Weng Fen’s striking photographs of two southern cities, Shenzhen and Haikou show a young girl sitting on a wall and looking out; following her gaze we see a mirage-like cityscape emerging on the horizon. The wall thus separates not only space but also time; and the girl mediates not only “here” and “there” but also “now” and “then,” extending our view to an alluring future (nos. 00-00)). When we turn to Xiang Liqing’s Rock Never, however, we are abruptly brought back to the (intensified) reality of a “post-modern” Chinese city: the six large pictures in this series represent residential high-rises as paradoxical structures, characterized by their uniform, anonymous architectural style on the one hand, and by abundant signs of human activities on the other hand. The simulated repetition of both types of image brings these two aspects of a contemporary Chinese city into sharp conflict.

As Xiang’s pictures imply, the emerging city attracts experimental photographers not only with its buildings but also with its increasingly heterogeneous population. To Chen Shaoxiong, a member of the avant-garde Big Elephant Group in Guangzhou, a heterogeneous city resembles the stage of a plotless tableaux; what unites its characters is the place they share. This notion underlies his series of photographs in this exhibition, which are conceived and constructed like a series of puppet theaters within the real cityscape. Images in each photograph belong to two detached layers: in front of a large panoramic scene are cut-out miniatures — passersby, shoppers, and policemen amidst telephone booths, traffic lights, different kinds of vehicles, trees, and anything one finds along Guangzhou’s streets. These images are crowded in a tight space but do not interact. The mass they form is nevertheless a fragmentary one, without order, narrative, or a visual focus.

Representing urban spaces and population, Chen’s photos are linked with another popular subject in contemporary Chinese photography – images of a new “urban generation,” called dushi yidai in Chinese. Works belonging to this category include Yang Yong’s Cruel Youth Diary, Yang Fudong’s Don’t Worry I Will Be Better and The First Intellectual , Yang Zhengzhong’s Cycle Aerobics, and Zheng Guogu’s A World View Digital Image. Instead of portraying the lives of urban youths realistically, these images deliver constructed visual fictions. Each work consists of multiple frames, which invite us to read them as a narrative unfolding in time. Indeed, such interest in seriality and story-telling may be traced to contemporary Chinese experimental cinema, especially the “urban generation” films of the late 1990s and early 2000s. But the “stories” in the photographs remain non-specific or allegorical. What the artists hope to capture is a certain taste, style, and mood associated with this generation of people, and for this purpose they have created images that are often deliberately trivial and ambiguous. Yang Fudong’s Don’t Worry I Will Be Better, for example, represents a group of fashionable Shanghai yuppies, including a girl and several young men. The pictures resemble film stills, but the plot that connects them remains beyond the viewer’s comprehension. In a different and more comical style, another work of Yang’s in the exhibition, The First Intellectual (no. 00), comments on the vulnerability and insecurity of such yuppies — a byproduct of China’s social and economic reforms.

Images of the “urban generation” are further linked to the self-representations of experimental artists, who often identify with this generation. In fact, a strong interest in representing the self sets experimental photography apart from other branches of contemporary Chinese photography. For example, although documentary photographers also take pictures of people and urban scenes, they approach their subjects as belonging to an external, observed reality. Experimental photographers, on the other hand, find meaning only from their interaction with the surrounding world, and customarily make themselves the center of a photograph, as seen in many works in this exhibition: Hong Hao’s Mr. Hong Usually Waits, Shi Yong’s Tonight Moon and You Cannot Clone it, But You Can Buy It, Zhao Bandi’s Zhao Bandi and Panda, Feng Mengbo’s Shot 0074 Q and Shot 0075 Q, Cao Fei’s Beautiful Dog Brows, and Xu Zhen’s Sewer. Shi Yong represents himself as multiple, mass-produced robots; Zhao Bandi employs the style and format of a public poster for his self-portraits; Feng Mengbo turns himself into an action hero in the fictional world of a computer game; Hong Hao imagines himself as the master of an opulent, western-style mansion; Cao Fei transforms herself into a cat; Xu Zhen constructs an abstract picture with images of his body parts. Taken together, these images, the results of masquerade and self-manipulation, both reflect the crisis in the artists’ self-identity and their urgent quest for individuality in a rapidly commercializing society.

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Wu Hung is the Harrie A. Vanderstappen Distinguished Service Professor in Chinese Art History at the University of Chicago. He has written extensively on contemporary Chinese art and visual culture and has curated several important exhibitions on Chinese experimental art, including The First Guangzhou Triennial. He is currently collaborating with the University of Chicago’s Smart Museum of Art and the International Center of Photography in New York on the forthcoming exhibition New Photography from China.

Contemporary art in China reflects the country’s rising influence as an economic, political and cultural force in the global arena. Chinese artists are gaining international recognition for their potent artworks that address a rapidly changing society; influenced by Western ideals and art practice, their creative production nevertheless remains distinctly Chinese in its content and aesthetic. Several of these artists have exhibited their work in major exhibitions such as documenta in Germany, the Venice Biennale in Italy, and the Shanghai Biennial and Guangzhou Triennial in China, but have had little exposure in the United States.

The first project of its kind in this country, Zooming into Focus: Contemporary Chinese Photography and Video from the Haudenschild Collection features the work of many of the most noteworthy Chinese artists working today, including Cao Fei, Chen Shaoxiong, Feng Mengbo, Hong Hao, Shi Yong, Weng Fen, Xiang Liqing, Xu Zhen, Yang Fudong, Yang Yong, Yang Zhenzhong, Zhao Bandi and Zheng Guogu. In two exhibitions, the project highlights the extraordinary photography and video being created by these artists in a country that is undergoing tremendous growth and development. This swift transformation of Chinese culture is reflected in the work of each of the artists, who comment on contemporary Chinese life with intelligence, wit, anxiety and nostalgia.

All of the works in both exhibitions are presented at the University Art Gallery through a generous loan from the Haudenschild Collection. Noted art collectors and alumni Eloisa and Chris Haudenschild have created one of the largest and most significant groupings of contemporary Chinese photography and video in the world. Focusing on the work of experimental artists from China’s lively urban centers, such as Beijing, Guangzhou and Shanghai, the collection has become a landmark contribution to the field of international contemporary art. In addition to lending their collection of new Chinese works, the Haudenschilds have commissioned a performance by Shi Yong and a video installation by Yang Zhenzhong that will premiere in San Diego.

In conjunction with Zooming into Focus, an extensive educational program that consists of a keynote lecture, a symposium, a screening and three artists’ residencies will be presented at San Diego State University and partnering institutions in San Diego. A complete listing of the program, as well as related events in San Diego, Tijuana and Hangzhou. Together, the exhibitions and educational program comprise a comprehensive project intended to showcase contemporary Chinese art, and to encourage viewers to appreciate today’s China with new insight and perspective.

In November of 2002, at the invitation of Eloisa Haudenschild, I had the opportunity to view the first works of contemporary Chinese photography that she and Chris had collected during a visit to Shanghai. Overwhelmed by the power and vitality of the images, I immediately declared my desire to exhibit the photographs at the University Art Gallery. Eloisa responded with equally-instant enthusiasm, and our adventure began. With Chris’s and the University’s blessing, we traveled together to China in January of 2003. We met with artists, curators and gallerists in Guangzhou, Shanghai and Hangzhou, and viewed two major exhibitions, The First Guangzhou Triennial and the 2002 Shanghai Biennial. Following this trip, during which the collection grew, we began to discuss the exhibition, possible educational events, and a modest brochure that would document the project.

As the Haudenshilds continued to collect photographs and video works during the first several months of 2003, it became clear that their impressive collection warranted two exhibitions at the University Art Gallery and a substantial catalogue with scholarly essays. And as Eloisa met with relevant artists, curators and collectors in Paris, New York, Venice and San Francisco, she planted the seeds of a broad-based series of educational programs featuring international participants. Finally, through recent meetings in Shanghai and Guangzhou, and with colleagues from Tijuana, Eloisa successfully paved the way for the photography exhibition to travel to museums in China and Mexico.

On behalf of those who view the exhibitions, partake of the educational programs, or read this book—both here and abroad—I am grateful for the generosity of Eloisa and Chris Haudenschild. Their joyful willingness to share their collection is a special gift to us all. I also would like to express appreciation for Eloisa’s collaborative commitment to the project and her passionate devotion to art. Her dedication to the work of young artists has made a difference in their lives, and has benefited the world of contemporary art.

My personal thanks are expressed to Eloisa Haudenschild for her inspirational spirit and her absolute trust.

Tina Yapelli, Director, University Art Gallery, 2003

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This text appeared in the exhibition catalogue “Zooming into Focus: Contemporary Chinese Photography and Video from the Haudenschild Collection”, copyright 2003 by the University Art Gallery, San Diego State University, and is re-printed with permission.

China’s National Art Museum is currently hosting what some are calling ‘its best exhibit ever.’ The modern video and photography arts of contemporary China converge in this enormous collection, belonging to Mr. & Mrs. Haudenschild, whose collecting interests have migrated from South America’s contemporary voices to China’s Mainland. It’s a stronghold of landmark artworks from the breakout period of the early 90s, and this is a ‘once in Beijing’ opportunity to see them all in one place. They’re fun and interesting works, nothing shocking or is tasteful, but still challenging and provocative. Go at once to the art museum, but make it before the 20th of November, when the show ends and art fans sadly walk back to the distant 798-Dashanzi district.

By Zat Liu for That’s Shanghai, 2004

This isn’t your usual brushwork and ancient bronze Chinese art exhibition. The ambitious Zooming into Focus exhibition features over fifty contemporary Chinese photographic and video works from the Haudenschild collection.

Contemporary Chinese art is gaining international recognition as young artists mold new perceptions about Chinese art abroad. “I think not only traditional Chinese art can draw attention but contemporary Chinese art can win a place in art circles as well,” said Li Xu, director of the Shanghai Art Museum’s academic department.

The contemporary Chinese art movement began at the end of the 1980s but it has received more exposure and interest in the West then at home. “I noticed this bizarre phenomenon. I think it’s really ridiculous that we are concerned about our own culture and art only because it succeeded overseas,” said Li.

Zooming into Focus will display over fifty contemporary photographic, video and installation pieces by fourteen artists including Cao Fei, Chen Shaoxiong and Feng Mengo, whose works have been previously shown at the Venice Biennale, Dokumenta Kassel, Mori Museum Tokyo, Yokahama Triennale and MOMA New York as well as in several domestic museums.

Initially contemporary Chinese art could only be displayed overseas, so inevitably a lot of works were produced deliberately to cater to Western tases, while the Chinese audience had no time to assimilate to new forms. “I want to clarify the misunderstanding here. Contemporary Chinese art is in fact beautiful, aesthetic, and even humorous – many works nowadays are based on people’s daily life, such as the use of the internet,” Li said.

Shi Yong, one of the participating artists has his own opinion about getting some local exposure, “I feel very lucky that we can do this exhibition in our home country today. Actually many Chinese artists care more about domestic exhibitions then overseas ones.”

Published by the Siemens Art Program for Culture Times Beijing , November 2005

Contemporary art in China reflects the country’s rising influence as an economic, political and cultural force in the international arena. Chinese artists, especially those working in photography and video, are gaining international recognition for their powerful works addressing a rapidly changing society that is influenced by Western ideals and art practice, yet remains distinctly Chinese in its content and aesthetics.

The National Art Museum of China presented the exhibition Zooming Into Focus: Contemporary Chinese Photography From the Haudenschild Collection. The exhibition highlighted the remarkable photography and videography works currently being created in China. The swift transformation of Chinese culture is reflected in the work of each of the participating artists, who comment on contemporary Chinese urban life with intelligence, wit, apprehension and nostalgia.

Noted American art collectors Eloisa and Chris Haudenschild have created one of the most important collections of contemporary Chinese art in the world. Focusing on the work of experimental artists from Beijing, Guangzhou and Shanghai, the collection makes groundbreaking contributions to the field of international contemporary art. The National Art Museum of China, which is China’s national museum for the visual arts, focuses on collecting, studying and exhibiting China’s modern and contemporary works of fine art.