But how big is it, really? We’re told that the twenty-one Chinese artists were selected for their “ability to portray diverse social realities,” but 70 percent of China still lives in the countryside, and what about their social reality? Or, on the other extreme, what about the elite world of high officials? Instead, the only social reality portrayed here is the contemporary art world, which has branches in Shanghai as well as Berlin, Sao Paolo, Chicago, etc. (A full third of the chosen artists come from a single gallery in Beijing). And so we get the kind of thing one would expect to see in MFA graduation exhibits all over the world: the stones piled on the floor, the soft sculpture made from recycled clothing, the installations of precious junk, the annoying animations, the tedious videos made by hand-held cameras, the large blurry photographs—and the general theme of juvenile dismay and alienation in the face of a world gone crazy. Which probably applies to growth-frenzied China as well as anywhere else today—but China has seen explosive economic growth many times before (most recently in the eighteenth century), and it’s always been accompanied by arts that cultivated a quiet enjoyment of life. At least the painters, like Zhou Wenzhong (b. 1974), can show power. It’s the ugly kind of power as developed by European expressionists, but still it feels as honest and breathtaking as the calligraphy of Su Shih. (Chris Miller)
Through August 30 at the Chicago Cultural Center, 78 E. Washington
Home Is Where the Family Is: A Review of Chicago Chiquito at Bridgeport Art Center This small but significant exhibition shows the history of Chicago Chiquito, or little Chicago, the nickname given to La Hacienda, a small town in the state of Guanajuato, Mexico. Its families have migrated north to find work for over one hundred years.
But how big is it, really? We’re told that the twenty-one Chinese artists were selected for their “ability to portray diverse social realities,” but 70 percent of China still lives in the countryside, and what about their social reality? Or, on the other extreme, what about the elite world of high officials? Instead, the only social reality portrayed here is the contemporary art world, which has branches in Shanghai as well as Berlin, Sao Paolo, Chicago, etc. (A full third of the chosen artists come from a single gallery in Beijing). And so we get the kind of thing one would expect to see in MFA graduation exhibits all over the world: the stones piled on the floor, the soft sculpture made from recycled clothing, the installations of precious junk, the annoying animations, the tedious videos made by hand-held cameras, the large blurry photographs—and the general theme of juvenile dismay and alienation in the face of a world gone crazy. Which probably applies to growth-frenzied China as well as anywhere else today—but China has seen explosive economic growth many times before (most recently in the eighteenth century), and it’s always been accompanied by arts that cultivated a quiet enjoyment of life. At least the painters, like Zhou Wenzhong (b. 1974), can show power. It’s the ugly kind of power as developed by European expressionists, but still it feels as honest and breathtaking as the calligraphy of Su Shih. (Chris Miller)
