Zhang Yimou, Lao She's The Teahouse, natural scenery paintings all spring to mind when thinking of Chinese contemporary art. They are veritable institutions, images that best represent mainland art to most people. But to gauge current mainland trends, there is a relatively new genre: video art. In fact, camcorder-wielding artists have been prowling Beijing hutongs since the beginning of the 1990s; it is just that the results have been overlooked. Without a free distribution channel and few screening opportunities, their work has remained unknown - until now. With Sovereignty & Beyond, video showings from both mainland and local artists, the Museum of Site (MOST) aims to bring some gems to the attention of Hong Kong's mainstream audience next month. 'Venues for screenings of the works are basically non-existent on the mainland,' said Andrew Lam Hon-kin, MOST chairman and the festival's curatorial director. 'At best the artists show each other their work at a gathering in somebody's studio in Dongchuan [an artist's commune in Beijing]. The public never realised the existence of such an art form.' Arts education on the mainland contains nothing about video art, so people lack a language to discuss it, let alone try their hand at it, he said. The lack of facilities is so drastic, according to Mr Lam, that even the omnipotent government censors have rarely been a problem. 'You can't get places to show videos. Censorship is not the major issue at hand.' But apolitical the artists surely are not - and Mr Lam believes they are much more socially conscious than their Hong Kong counterparts. 'When they sit down and have a chat, they don't talk about aesthetics - they talk about political and social problems there,' he said. Mainland video artists' concerns and frustrations manifest themselves in different ways, he added - instead of visual messages aimed at the authorities, the artists articulate their dismay in more subtle language. Their films revolve around documenting the everyday or celebrating the banal. Li Yungbin's Face is a 24-minute piece about cleaning his face; Chinese Landscape, by Zhou Yibin, is exactly about what the title suggests; and Good Morning Beijing is Zhao Liang's reaction to everyday life in the capital. There are also pieces that magnify the mundane to surreal levels in order to layer the ordinary with subtexts. 1500cm features, among other things, artist Yan Lei plucking hair from his armpit. Hilarious as this could at first appear, it eventually becomes tedious - exactly the feeling the artist wants to convey about how monotonous and redundant modern life on the mainland (if not everywhere) has become. 'They have taken to saying things through a personal approach,' said Mr Lam. 'Their work looks like telling stories about their own lives, but they are using that to reflect the problems the mainland faces as the society progresses and changes.' For video artists at least, the 'one country, two systems' concept is still strong. Artists from both sides of the divide strive for the same goal - to comment on the absurdities and injustices in life - it is just the paths they take that differ. One notable difference is technology. While more Hong Kong artists indulge themselves with special effects and sharp editing, their mainland counterparts, for want of such luxuries, take a simpler approach. This actually works to their advantage: handheld cameras and grainy images prove more endearing than flawless special effects. Hong Kong artists are more aware of the medium's possibilities. Many local works have experimented with the dissection of video art: those of veteran May Fung Mei-wah, for instance. Her work for this festival, Video On Video, is a challenge of the art form's fabric - it features a television playing another piece of work. A curious loop as well as a scrutiny of the medium. As video art flourishes on the mainland, Fung fears digital manipulation will lead budding artists astray. 'Special-effects technology could definitely help artists in a way,' she said. 'But the key lies in how much of it they are using and whether they can judge where to use them. 'We do see, from time to time, perfect effects on video - but, in the process, some of these works lack the artists' personal touches. The consciousness of the artists is absent.' The simplicity of the mainland work remains a breath of fresh air. 'Without flowery effects you can really see how artists portray their sentiments about life,' said Mr Lam. 'It provides us with an in-depth, multi-level understanding of modern Chinese society.' Sovereignty & Beyond, November 3 to 30. For details and other inquiries, call 2734 9009 The arts page is edited by Amanda Watson. Fax: 2562 2485. E-mail: amanda@scmp.com