Under the influence of Obrist and his curatorial colleagues, MAM/ARC, as the museum is known, has become a showcase for video art, with highlights including Matthew Barney’s Cremaster Cycle last fall, and an ongoing Steve McQueen show. Not surprisingly, "Camera" also emphasizes video, shown in Ho’s "modules" as opposed to the typical black-box projection room.
From Wang Jian Wei, fortyish, come two videos of a sociological flavor. "Square" juxtaposes footage of the revolt in Tiananmen Square with the artist’s own video of the square today, a place where tourists snap souvenir photos. "Theater" compiles numerous versions of the story of the White Hair Girl, a stock character in Maoist propaganda.
Yang Fudong, a young star in his late 20s, presents more narrative work. "Liu Lan" is a poetic 35-mm film about the sad beauty Liu Lan. With her long hair and fingers nimbly sewing, Liu Lan lives by a lake and pines for her fantasy love. "Honey," by contrast, uses a character from popular Chinese spy movies. She is as much a sex symbol as a Bond Girl, but due to repressive official mores, she has to hide her va-va-voom — a Mata Hari in a cadet’s uniform.
Each of the works would seem to contain a critique of the government. That’s fine, says Ho, as long as none is too "confrontational." State supervisors scrutinize popular media more closely than video art. What’s more, the profit motive has overtaken ideology as the consuming national concern. China’s new great leap forward to market capitalism has subsequently unleashed an explosion of new artistic production as well.
"It reminds me a lot of Spain in the Eighties, post-Franco," says Obrist. "There is a kind of movità, or energy, when you get off the plane. It is difficult to explain but extremely addictive."