Infrequent, Involuntary triumphs
Michael Paulson
After the theme of the 2003 Beijing Biennale, "Originality: Contemporaneity and Locality," one would imagine that the organizers of the 2005 iteration, coming in September, would have trouble coming up with a more nebulous title. Indeed, the curators have gone the opposite route this year, towards concrete, scientific banality, presenting us with "Contemporary art with humanistic concerns." But despite the thematic swing of the pendulum, it seems the content of the 2005 Biennale will be a curatorial rehashing of 2003.
The staunch conservatism of this second installment is evident in both the exclusion of all media other than painting and sculpture and also the insistence that included works somehow deal with humanitarian themes. The former restriction might not be seen as completely atavistic–after all, the moratorium on painting as a viable means of expression has long been lifted–but only if the work included were truly contemporary, as the exhibition’s title asserts. There is a slender slice of work that seems engaged with contemporary visual culture, for example, Jin Rui’s cast of pan-Eastern mythological characters surrounding a waif-like, all-too glossy young woman. But when it becomes clear that none of these works display a trace of irony, or even a sincere critique, one wonders at the naiveté of the entire endeavor.
Besides these infrequent, involuntary triumphs, most of the other paintings (excluding the traditional Chinese paintings) seem to fall neatly under the headings of specific historical styles dating back to the early 19th century. Wang Hongjian’s entry shows us what Courbet would be painting if he were a Chinese Socialist Realist–people hauling giant sacks out of a long canoe. It’s not a bad stab at Courbet, style-wise, but, like many of its neighbors–be they late Divisionist knock-offs, statuesque faux-Picasso women sitting in chairs, or creepy amalgams of bus posters for Mexican tourism and the Le Nain brothers–it begs the all-important question, Why? Why another surrealist tableau with a floating dinner table and a sinister ditch? Well, why not.
Surprisingly enough, the Bienniale’s general lack of originality may not be the most serious problem. After all, the days of the earnest avant-garde seem to be at an end. But in order to be a success, even derivative art must at least come within the general sphere of that to which it aspires. Many paintings and sculptures included simply look like art school imitations gone terribly wrong. Nonetheless, there is a good deal of work that will delight the conoisseur of death-defying acts of academic kitsch, the likes of which confirm Susan Sontag’s premise that true camp cannot be made by someone in the know.
A number of artists make an attempt to engage with postmodern practice, although something usually goes haywire, as in Zhou Changjiang’s large series of images, texts, and black squares, all on canvas. At first glance, the piece seems to engage with the serial tradition as practiced by Warhol, on the one hand, and the post-minimalists on the other. However, it turns out that the indistinct images on the red panels (which might have been Warhol screenprints) consist of a panoply of international faces, not only existing in peace and harmony, but arranged in the shape of a Latin cross. Although one might be loathe to wish another snarky, craftsy, or hipstery piece of "I don’t even know what irony is anymore" art into the world, this piece could use just a touch of the wink-wink, nudge-nudge.
In addition to acres of Chinese, Middle Eastern, Central Asian, and Eastern European art, the curators have selected a number of well-established Western artists to join in the fun. The focus here seems to be on cramming in a few tried-and-true names for the sake of official press releases–once again, with no curatorial rhyme or reason. The two big names that have been thrown around are Andy Warhol and Gerhard Richter, although Beijing has given no inkling of which of their works will be included.
Pleased with the success of 2003 (and also the general lack of unrest surrounding it), the Chinese government is planning to continue the Beijing Biennale indefinitely. If it is to offer any real interest to the international community, the curators should start planning for a 2007 installment that is not stymied by conservatism in theme, genre, or medium.
