LAST SEPTEMBER, the Galerie Rudolfinum in Prague hosted the world's first major retrospective of Chinese conceptual photography entitled A Strange Heaven: Contemporary Chinese Photography. The show was co-curated by Hong Kong gallery owner Johnson Chang Tsong-zung but, the full exhibit didn't come to Hong Kong - another reminder that, although Chinese conceptual art is making waves abroad, it's not as recognised closer to home.
It's why practitioners regard the opening tomorrow of an exhibition at the Central Library as so important. Reality Spells: Chinese Conceptual Photography Since the 90s will be Hong Kong's first look at the art from China that is dazzling critics worldwide. The exhibition - co-organised by Art Map, the CS Cultural Foundation, and the Arts Development Council - showcases more than 80 pieces by 25 artists from the mainland, Hong Kong and Taiwan, and includes a series of lectures.
Conceptual photography first surfaced in the west in the 1960s and was primarily a means of social critique that questioned and mocked the traditional definition of art and how it was represented in museums. It places more emphasis on the idea or concept of a piece than its physical form or artistic technique. The point the artist is trying to make takes precedence over whether they have a photo in perfect focus, for example. As the movement gained popularity, it spread around the world, reaching China in the late 80s. Hong Hao, one of China's most internationally recognised contemporary artists and a participant in Reality Spells, says conceptual photography 'has the ability to lead the audience to think differently. It doesn't aim to pursue a breakthrough of photographic technique, but the realisation of an idea.'
Much of Reality Spells is conceptual with a capital C: drunk on irony, sarcasm, and a distinctive humour. A good example is Hong's My Things series, which is his commentary on the messiness of modern life and the ridiculousness of all the objects we have in our homes. For these works, he scanned in photos of thousands of his daily objects - Chinese coins, a pack of ramen noodles, a paper KFC cup, a TV remote control, whitening toothpaste, a bitter melon - and put them back together like a jigsaw puzzle.
Another example is a long horizontal landscape by Hong Lei that shows a grey coalmining area in Xuzhou. It's a modern image, but the title, Imitating Zhao Mengfu's Autumn Colours on the Que and Hua Mountains, refers to a classic 13th-century painting that looks strikingly similar in composition. But instead of a beautiful mountain, there's a giant pyramid of coal, a slender tree is replaced by a smokestack, and a large rock in the corner becomes a concrete building. The social and environmental commentary is obvious, as is the photo's conceptual nature. A traditional artist would see a landscape he liked and be inspired to draw it. Hong was inspired first by his desire to comment on China's industrialisation, and then used digital photography to make his point.
'In this exhibition, we will discuss conceptual Chinese artists from the 1990s on, reviewing the process of development,' says the exhibition's curator, Anthea Fan Wen-jen. 'After 1989, many artists believed there was a conflict between China's need for freedom and their lack of it. They began to champion the values of free expression. In their work, many artists use overtly strong messages.'
When the earliest such artists began to surface in China during the 90s, Fan says, 'there wasn't much recognition ... because all conceptual art at that point was underground. Artists didn't have proper places to show their work. They resorted to showing in underground locations, and [exhibitions] would be finished in one day. It was often illegal or dangerous.