马永峰的博客
Jan
19
by An Xiao on January 18, 2012
http://hyperallergic.com/45316/four-artists-in-asia-im-watching-in-2012/

The "Forget Art Fair," installed by Linda Gallery in Beijing's 798 Art Zone. The fair competed — tongue in cheek — with the 2011 edition of Art Basel and even passed out VIP cards for visitors.
LOS ANGELES — After spending a year living in different parts of Asia, I’ve been asked by many people for my thoughts on the art scene there: Does China really live up to the hype? How does Korea fit into the picture? And what about Southeast Asia? Unfortunately, I can’t answer all of these questions, especially because after a year there I felt I was just beginning to scratch the surface.
But I was fortunate to meet some incredible artists in my travels. In China, Korea and the Philippines, I came across very challenging and interesting work, which sprung up out of very different traditions and sociocultural contexts. But which artists stood out? Whose work am I most looking forward to in the coming year? Rather than write a 2011 summary, I thought I’d write a 2012 “head’s up”, a list of artists whose work continues to stick in my head and who I hope to see more from in the coming year. This list is neither scientific nor exhaustive, but I’ve at least arranged it by the four cities in which I spent the most of my time in 2011.
Beijing, China — Forget Art

12:50 pm, Ma Yongfeng's microintervention on a bathroom door at MK2 Art Space for "Memory/Identity," curated by Alessandro Rolandi.
With news of Zhang Daqian toppling Picasso as top auction earner, it can be easy to lose sight of Chinese artists working largely outside the commercial sphere. Founded by Ma Yongfeng, whose goldfish video at MoMA PS1 provoked outcries from animal rights activists, Forget Art is one of Beijing’s most active art collectives, with a focus on microinterventions around the city, from an old Taoist temple to a bath house frequented by rural migrants. Forget Art’s one booth art fair at Linda Gallery made a splash on June 4 for its wry humor and subterfuge (some attendees received a VIP pass), and their cover photo essay in LEAP magazine featured guerilla art interventions like a leaf spiked through a twig in a park near 798.
Forget Art has grown increasingly active in the Beijing art scene, with a recent installation at Za Jia, an art space, bar and formal Taoist temple in Beijing’s Drum and Bell Temple area. Dubbed Not Only a Taoist Troublemaker, works included “Suspending Rock,” a performance and installation by Wu Yuren, who stood under a 100 kg hanging rock for two hours, and a propaganda-style poster by Alessandro Rolandi declaring “May Your Matters Be Safe.” I never saw their installation at Caochangdi’s Dragon Fountain Bathhouse, but residents in the village were talking about it for months afterward, and the documentation video certainly reveals its charm.
Manila, Philippines — Kiri Lluch Dalena

Kiri Lluch Dalena's "Erased Slogans," focused on famous protests in recent Philippine history.
I wrote about Kiri Lluch Dalena’s haunting installation at the University of the Philippines recently, in which she responded to and documented the aftermath of the horrific Maguindanao Massacre, the worst massacre of journalists since the Committee to Protect Journalists began keeping record. Since then, I’ve come to learn more about Dalena’s work, which shifts comfortably from challenging video documentaries examining social and political issues in the Philippines, to more lighthearted works.
Recently at Now Gallery in Makati, Manila, she exhibited a half dozen condom sculptures, each shaped and colored differently. The colors were inspired by actual flavored condom colors available in the country.
Part of what makes Dalena’s work so impactful is the way she relies on the Filipino community to help her document much of her subject matter. To prepare for Time and Place of Incident, she used social networks like Facebook and blogs to develop contacts. And for certain hard-to-reach areas, she relied on volunteers to film for her. The sense of play and gravity come together in her Erased Slogans, in which she Photoshopped out the political slogans at famous protests in recent history. The images are darkly humorous, and the slogans reappear as actual gravestones in a later installation.
Xiao Ke
I first met Xiao Ke during her stunning “Silent Acappella” at Welcome to Enter, a curatorial initiative by Anita Hawkins in which I also took part.
In her performance, Xiao Ke performed inside the cube set up by Hawkins, while her dance was projected on the outside for the audience. The mixture of kinetic movements and wall banging with her surreal, hypnotic movements on two faces of the cube hooked us all in, and I wanted to see more. Her Shanghai-based dance studio has collaborated internationally, and she’s now stepping into more conceptual dance explorations.
Seoul, Korea — Dirk Fleischmann

Dirk Fleischmann's myfashionindustries label, produced in both North Korea and the Philippines. Purchasers receive a video illustrating the entire production process.
You might think that Dirk Fleischmann doesn’t sound very Korean, and you’d certainly be right. German-born Fleischmann lives and works in Seoul, and his autobiographical myconceptstore, which premiered at the 2011 Gwangju Design Biennale, was a hit attraction. The store featured a number of conceptual products from his art career, including a series of watches all set to 00:10, or 10 seconds. Without looking at the watches, Fleischmann used trial and error to set a perfect 00:10. The amount of time it took for him to set 10 seconds determined the price.
Other products included an organic egg from Gwangju, which I purchased, Snickers bars he used to sell in his studio as an art student, beer from North Korea and even a line of clothing made in the communist Korea.
* * *
I wish I could write more about the art in Asia, and I have and will be doing so in this blog. These artists’ works have lingered in my mind a little longer than most, and I’m looking forward to seeing what they produce in 2012.
http://hyperallergic.com/45316/four-artists-in-asia-im-watching-in-2012/
The "Forget Art Fair," installed by Linda Gallery in Beijing's 798 Art Zone. The fair competed — tongue in cheek — with the 2011 edition of Art Basel and even passed out VIP cards for visitors.
LOS ANGELES — After spending a year living in different parts of Asia, I’ve been asked by many people for my thoughts on the art scene there: Does China really live up to the hype? How does Korea fit into the picture? And what about Southeast Asia? Unfortunately, I can’t answer all of these questions, especially because after a year there I felt I was just beginning to scratch the surface.
But I was fortunate to meet some incredible artists in my travels. In China, Korea and the Philippines, I came across very challenging and interesting work, which sprung up out of very different traditions and sociocultural contexts. But which artists stood out? Whose work am I most looking forward to in the coming year? Rather than write a 2011 summary, I thought I’d write a 2012 “head’s up”, a list of artists whose work continues to stick in my head and who I hope to see more from in the coming year. This list is neither scientific nor exhaustive, but I’ve at least arranged it by the four cities in which I spent the most of my time in 2011.
Beijing, China — Forget Art
12:50 pm, Ma Yongfeng's microintervention on a bathroom door at MK2 Art Space for "Memory/Identity," curated by Alessandro Rolandi.
With news of Zhang Daqian toppling Picasso as top auction earner, it can be easy to lose sight of Chinese artists working largely outside the commercial sphere. Founded by Ma Yongfeng, whose goldfish video at MoMA PS1 provoked outcries from animal rights activists, Forget Art is one of Beijing’s most active art collectives, with a focus on microinterventions around the city, from an old Taoist temple to a bath house frequented by rural migrants. Forget Art’s one booth art fair at Linda Gallery made a splash on June 4 for its wry humor and subterfuge (some attendees received a VIP pass), and their cover photo essay in LEAP magazine featured guerilla art interventions like a leaf spiked through a twig in a park near 798.
Forget Art has grown increasingly active in the Beijing art scene, with a recent installation at Za Jia, an art space, bar and formal Taoist temple in Beijing’s Drum and Bell Temple area. Dubbed Not Only a Taoist Troublemaker, works included “Suspending Rock,” a performance and installation by Wu Yuren, who stood under a 100 kg hanging rock for two hours, and a propaganda-style poster by Alessandro Rolandi declaring “May Your Matters Be Safe.” I never saw their installation at Caochangdi’s Dragon Fountain Bathhouse, but residents in the village were talking about it for months afterward, and the documentation video certainly reveals its charm.
Manila, Philippines — Kiri Lluch Dalena
Kiri Lluch Dalena's "Erased Slogans," focused on famous protests in recent Philippine history.
I wrote about Kiri Lluch Dalena’s haunting installation at the University of the Philippines recently, in which she responded to and documented the aftermath of the horrific Maguindanao Massacre, the worst massacre of journalists since the Committee to Protect Journalists began keeping record. Since then, I’ve come to learn more about Dalena’s work, which shifts comfortably from challenging video documentaries examining social and political issues in the Philippines, to more lighthearted works.
Recently at Now Gallery in Makati, Manila, she exhibited a half dozen condom sculptures, each shaped and colored differently. The colors were inspired by actual flavored condom colors available in the country.
Part of what makes Dalena’s work so impactful is the way she relies on the Filipino community to help her document much of her subject matter. To prepare for Time and Place of Incident, she used social networks like Facebook and blogs to develop contacts. And for certain hard-to-reach areas, she relied on volunteers to film for her. The sense of play and gravity come together in her Erased Slogans, in which she Photoshopped out the political slogans at famous protests in recent history. The images are darkly humorous, and the slogans reappear as actual gravestones in a later installation.
Xiao Ke
I first met Xiao Ke during her stunning “Silent Acappella” at Welcome to Enter, a curatorial initiative by Anita Hawkins in which I also took part.
In her performance, Xiao Ke performed inside the cube set up by Hawkins, while her dance was projected on the outside for the audience. The mixture of kinetic movements and wall banging with her surreal, hypnotic movements on two faces of the cube hooked us all in, and I wanted to see more. Her Shanghai-based dance studio has collaborated internationally, and she’s now stepping into more conceptual dance explorations.
Seoul, Korea — Dirk Fleischmann
Dirk Fleischmann's myfashionindustries label, produced in both North Korea and the Philippines. Purchasers receive a video illustrating the entire production process.
You might think that Dirk Fleischmann doesn’t sound very Korean, and you’d certainly be right. German-born Fleischmann lives and works in Seoul, and his autobiographical myconceptstore, which premiered at the 2011 Gwangju Design Biennale, was a hit attraction. The store featured a number of conceptual products from his art career, including a series of watches all set to 00:10, or 10 seconds. Without looking at the watches, Fleischmann used trial and error to set a perfect 00:10. The amount of time it took for him to set 10 seconds determined the price.
Other products included an organic egg from Gwangju, which I purchased, Snickers bars he used to sell in his studio as an art student, beer from North Korea and even a line of clothing made in the communist Korea.
* * *
I wish I could write more about the art in Asia, and I have and will be doing so in this blog. These artists’ works have lingered in my mind a little longer than most, and I’m looking forward to seeing what they produce in 2012.
Jan
15
2011年 Forget Art 总结:
1.#游击寄居症# 2012年将从艺术家参与转向民间化发展。
http://www.forgetart.org/?tag=guerrilla-living-syndrome
2.#forget art fair# 是一个游击艺博会、类装置和商业批发实体。
http://www.forgetart.org/?tag=forget-art-fair
3.#保持一种业余性# 为《艺术界》杂志10月号策划的项目。
http://www.forgetart.org/?p=962
4.#不是吃素的!# 一个发生在道观里的展览。
http://www.forgetart.org/?p=1026





1.#游击寄居症# 2012年将从艺术家参与转向民间化发展。
http://www.forgetart.org/?tag=guerrilla-living-syndrome
2.#forget art fair# 是一个游击艺博会、类装置和商业批发实体。
http://www.forgetart.org/?tag=forget-art-fair
3.#保持一种业余性# 为《艺术界》杂志10月号策划的项目。
http://www.forgetart.org/?p=962
4.#不是吃素的!# 一个发生在道观里的展览。
http://www.forgetart.org/?p=1026
Dec
21
VisualcontainerTv presents on ExhibitContainer
"FLOWERS OF CHAOS"
Chinese Animation Videoart Project
Curated by Cecilia Freschini
in colaboration with ArtVerona Fair
19 December to 18 January 2012
Only on VisualcontainerTV
www.visualcontainer.tv

Project Statement
The aim of this project is to highlight a specific sector of Chinese video art by focussing attention on its particular origins.
What do the artists selected, all from the Chinese mainland, see when they look around? Chaos!
Overwhelming disorder, which they deal with through their voice: tales and allegories that investigate today's society in an ironic manner, though without being afraid of tackling the Party's heavy ideology.
Like plants growing in a hostile terrain, their roots burrow deep down towards an uncertain source of nutrition, and they proliferate in the depths, beyond naked social distress. They are flowers born from chaos,
drunk with the energy that surrounds them, but also fatigued by the continuous and incessant process of urban modernization.
In their search for an identity they are forced to elude the oppression that has so harshly tested their very creative survival.
By Cecilia Freschini
Video selection:
Chen Shaoxiong, Ink city, 2005, Animation, b/w, 3
Cindy Ng Sio Ieng Ink Walk, 2009, Video, 6 08
Jin Shan, Kill, 2009, Animation, black-and-white, 211
Ma Yongfeng, Wrong, 2008, Animation, 130
Qi Yang, Lotus Dance, 2004, Animation, 250
Sun Xun, Peoples Republic of Zoo, 2009, Animazione, 749
Wang Bo, Day Dream, 2006, Video Animation, 8 31
Wu Junyong, Flowers of Chaos, 2009, Animation, 335
Zhang Xiaotao, Scar, 2009, Animation, 11'27''
EXHIBITCONTAINER is the format who welcome to International videoart from the most interesting international Videoart Festivals and curatorial projects.
VisualContainerTv is the first Web Tv entirely devoted to the International videoartworld.
A project by VisualContainer, the first Italian videoart distributor.
The channel is welcoming solo and group exhibitions and festivals under the care of curators from all over the world only on invite.
Formats presented : Exhibitcontainer - SpecialOne Monography - Interview.
Art Director: Alessandra Arnò
For info about VisualcontainerTV contact: info@visualcontainer.tv
VisualcontainerTV © 2009-2011
"FLOWERS OF CHAOS"
Chinese Animation Videoart Project
Curated by Cecilia Freschini
in colaboration with ArtVerona Fair
19 December to 18 January 2012
Only on VisualcontainerTV
www.visualcontainer.tv
Project Statement
The aim of this project is to highlight a specific sector of Chinese video art by focussing attention on its particular origins.
What do the artists selected, all from the Chinese mainland, see when they look around? Chaos!
Overwhelming disorder, which they deal with through their voice: tales and allegories that investigate today's society in an ironic manner, though without being afraid of tackling the Party's heavy ideology.
Like plants growing in a hostile terrain, their roots burrow deep down towards an uncertain source of nutrition, and they proliferate in the depths, beyond naked social distress. They are flowers born from chaos,
drunk with the energy that surrounds them, but also fatigued by the continuous and incessant process of urban modernization.
In their search for an identity they are forced to elude the oppression that has so harshly tested their very creative survival.
By Cecilia Freschini
Video selection:
Chen Shaoxiong, Ink city, 2005, Animation, b/w, 3
Cindy Ng Sio Ieng Ink Walk, 2009, Video, 6 08
Jin Shan, Kill, 2009, Animation, black-and-white, 211
Ma Yongfeng, Wrong, 2008, Animation, 130
Qi Yang, Lotus Dance, 2004, Animation, 250
Sun Xun, Peoples Republic of Zoo, 2009, Animazione, 749
Wang Bo, Day Dream, 2006, Video Animation, 8 31
Wu Junyong, Flowers of Chaos, 2009, Animation, 335
Zhang Xiaotao, Scar, 2009, Animation, 11'27''
EXHIBITCONTAINER is the format who welcome to International videoart from the most interesting international Videoart Festivals and curatorial projects.
VisualContainerTv is the first Web Tv entirely devoted to the International videoartworld.
A project by VisualContainer, the first Italian videoart distributor.
The channel is welcoming solo and group exhibitions and festivals under the care of curators from all over the world only on invite.
Formats presented : Exhibitcontainer - SpecialOne Monography - Interview.
Art Director: Alessandra Arnò
For info about VisualcontainerTV contact: info@visualcontainer.tv
VisualcontainerTV © 2009-2011
Nov
30
Spinnerei Leipzig
Einladung
STORYTELLERS// JAEBUM KIM & YEON SOOK LEE
OPEN HOUSE. Ausstellungen, Performances, Talks, Videos
LIA, Pilotenkueche, Gwangju Pavilion
Eröffnung 2. Dezember 2011, 18 Uhr
3. Dezember 2011, 11 bis 18 Uhr
Zum Abschluss ihres dreimonatigen Stipendiums im Gwangju Pavilion Leipzig präsentieren koreanischen KünstlerInnen Jaebum Kim und Yeon Sook Lee am 2. und 3. Dezember die gemeinsame Ausstellung STORYTELLERS. In Auseinandersetzung mit dem Ausstellungsraum auf dem Gelände der Baumwollspinnerei Leipzig haben die beiden KünstlerInnen Werke geschaffen, die auf unterschiedliche Weise Erzählungen über unsere Gegenwart erzeugen.
Die Eröffnung der Ausstellung findet im Rahmen von OPEN HOUSE statt, einem Gemeinschaftsprojekt der drei internationalen Künstlerresidenzen der Halle 18 - LIA, Pilotenküche und Gwangju Pavilion. Am Abend des 2. Dezember werden zwei Ausstellungen, Performances, Künstlergespräche und Videoscreenings präsentiert. Unter dem Titel GLOBAL HOUSE. ASIA. zeigt der Gwangju Pavilion neben der Ausstellung STORYTELLERS ein Videoprogramm mit Kunstvideos aus China, Taiwan, Südkorea, Malaysia, Saudi Arabien, Pakistan und Bangladesh.
Ausstellungen
STORYTELLERS -> Gwangju Pavilion
Kurz und Wichtig -> LIA
Meet the pilots! -> Pilotenküche
Videoscreening
Global House. Asia. Videokunst aus Asien. Mit Yuchen Chang, Chen Chenchen, Ise Parkingproject /a.k.a Roslisham Ismail, Hammad Khan, Sylbee Kim, Li Ming, Naeem Mohaiemen, Mehreen Murtaza, Ma Qiusha, Abdullah M. I. Syed, Xu Wang, Ma Yongfeng, Zeeshan Younis, Cheng-Ta Yu
www.globalhousevideos.tumblr.com
Performances // 2.12., 20.00 Uhr
The weight of the physical mind von Lottie Consalvo -> LIA
Rights von Cesar Forero in Zusammenarbeit mit dem Internationalen Choreografischen Zentrum Leipzig (Direktorin: Montserrat León), es tanzt: Sabine Schaft.
www.gwangju-pavilion.com
Invitation
STORYTELLERS// JAEBUM KIM & YEON SOOK LEE
OPEN HOUSE. Exhibtions, Performances, Talks, Videos
LIA, Pilotenkueche, Gwangju Pavilion
Opening 2. December 2011, 6 pm
3. December 2011, 11am to 6 pm
Concluding their three-month residency at Gwangju Pavilion Leipzig, on December 2nd and 3rd Korean artists Jaebum Kim and Yeon Sook Lee present a collabrative exhibition. STORYTELLERS refers to a common artistic practice which includes narratives as options for interweaving disparate, often times overlooked aspects of our present with imaginary and hypothetical propositions.
The exhibtion opening is part of OPEN HOUSE, a cooperation between the artist residency programmes LIA, Pilotenkueche and Gwangju Pavilion at Halle 18, Spinnerei Leipzig. On December 2nd and 3rd OPEN HOUSE presents two exhibitions, performances, artist talks and video screenings. The Gwangju Pavilion contributes with STORYTELLERS and GLOBAL HOUSE. ASIA, a programme of video art from China, Taiwan, South Korea, Malaysia, Saudi Arabia, Pakistan and Bangladesh.
Exhibtions
STORYTELLERS -> Gwangju Pavilion
Kurz und Wichtig -> LIA
Meet the pilots! -> Pilotenküche
Videoscreening
Global House. Asia. Videokunst aus Asien. Mit Yuchen Chang, Chen Chenchen, Ise Parkingproject /a.k.a Roslisham Ismail, Hammad Khan, Sylbee Kim, Li Ming, Naeem Mohaiemen, Mehreen Murtaza, Ma Qiusha, Abdullah M. I. Syed, Xu Wang, Ma Yongfeng, Zeeshan Younis, Cheng-Ta Yu
www.globalhousevideos.tumblr.com
Performances // 2.12., 20.00 Uhr
The weight of the physical mind by Lottie Consalvo -> LIA
Rights by Cesar Forero in collaboration with the International Choreographic Centre Leipzig (Director: Montserrat León), dance: Sabine Schaft.
http://www.gwangju-pavilion.com
Einladung
STORYTELLERS// JAEBUM KIM & YEON SOOK LEE
OPEN HOUSE. Ausstellungen, Performances, Talks, Videos
LIA, Pilotenkueche, Gwangju Pavilion
Eröffnung 2. Dezember 2011, 18 Uhr
3. Dezember 2011, 11 bis 18 Uhr
Zum Abschluss ihres dreimonatigen Stipendiums im Gwangju Pavilion Leipzig präsentieren koreanischen KünstlerInnen Jaebum Kim und Yeon Sook Lee am 2. und 3. Dezember die gemeinsame Ausstellung STORYTELLERS. In Auseinandersetzung mit dem Ausstellungsraum auf dem Gelände der Baumwollspinnerei Leipzig haben die beiden KünstlerInnen Werke geschaffen, die auf unterschiedliche Weise Erzählungen über unsere Gegenwart erzeugen.
Die Eröffnung der Ausstellung findet im Rahmen von OPEN HOUSE statt, einem Gemeinschaftsprojekt der drei internationalen Künstlerresidenzen der Halle 18 - LIA, Pilotenküche und Gwangju Pavilion. Am Abend des 2. Dezember werden zwei Ausstellungen, Performances, Künstlergespräche und Videoscreenings präsentiert. Unter dem Titel GLOBAL HOUSE. ASIA. zeigt der Gwangju Pavilion neben der Ausstellung STORYTELLERS ein Videoprogramm mit Kunstvideos aus China, Taiwan, Südkorea, Malaysia, Saudi Arabien, Pakistan und Bangladesh.
Ausstellungen
STORYTELLERS -> Gwangju Pavilion
Kurz und Wichtig -> LIA
Meet the pilots! -> Pilotenküche
Videoscreening
Global House. Asia. Videokunst aus Asien. Mit Yuchen Chang, Chen Chenchen, Ise Parkingproject /a.k.a Roslisham Ismail, Hammad Khan, Sylbee Kim, Li Ming, Naeem Mohaiemen, Mehreen Murtaza, Ma Qiusha, Abdullah M. I. Syed, Xu Wang, Ma Yongfeng, Zeeshan Younis, Cheng-Ta Yu
www.globalhousevideos.tumblr.com
Performances // 2.12., 20.00 Uhr
The weight of the physical mind von Lottie Consalvo -> LIA
Rights von Cesar Forero in Zusammenarbeit mit dem Internationalen Choreografischen Zentrum Leipzig (Direktorin: Montserrat León), es tanzt: Sabine Schaft.
www.gwangju-pavilion.com
Invitation
STORYTELLERS// JAEBUM KIM & YEON SOOK LEE
OPEN HOUSE. Exhibtions, Performances, Talks, Videos
LIA, Pilotenkueche, Gwangju Pavilion
Opening 2. December 2011, 6 pm
3. December 2011, 11am to 6 pm
Concluding their three-month residency at Gwangju Pavilion Leipzig, on December 2nd and 3rd Korean artists Jaebum Kim and Yeon Sook Lee present a collabrative exhibition. STORYTELLERS refers to a common artistic practice which includes narratives as options for interweaving disparate, often times overlooked aspects of our present with imaginary and hypothetical propositions.
The exhibtion opening is part of OPEN HOUSE, a cooperation between the artist residency programmes LIA, Pilotenkueche and Gwangju Pavilion at Halle 18, Spinnerei Leipzig. On December 2nd and 3rd OPEN HOUSE presents two exhibitions, performances, artist talks and video screenings. The Gwangju Pavilion contributes with STORYTELLERS and GLOBAL HOUSE. ASIA, a programme of video art from China, Taiwan, South Korea, Malaysia, Saudi Arabia, Pakistan and Bangladesh.
Exhibtions
STORYTELLERS -> Gwangju Pavilion
Kurz und Wichtig -> LIA
Meet the pilots! -> Pilotenküche
Videoscreening
Global House. Asia. Videokunst aus Asien. Mit Yuchen Chang, Chen Chenchen, Ise Parkingproject /a.k.a Roslisham Ismail, Hammad Khan, Sylbee Kim, Li Ming, Naeem Mohaiemen, Mehreen Murtaza, Ma Qiusha, Abdullah M. I. Syed, Xu Wang, Ma Yongfeng, Zeeshan Younis, Cheng-Ta Yu
www.globalhousevideos.tumblr.com
Performances // 2.12., 20.00 Uhr
The weight of the physical mind by Lottie Consalvo -> LIA
Rights by Cesar Forero in collaboration with the International Choreographic Centre Leipzig (Director: Montserrat León), dance: Sabine Schaft.
http://www.gwangju-pavilion.com
Nov
13
Voiceover Text
by Edward Sanderson
http://blog.escdotdot.com/2011/11/13/aspect-magazine-ma-yongfengs-the-swirl-2002/

What we are watching here is a video work from 2002 entitled The Swirl by Chinese artist Ma Yongfeng. This 15 minute video is one of Ma’s very first works at a point where he was displaying an interest in using what might be seen as futile behaviours, as a means of pricking the fabric of reality, and questioning it’s assumptions. Ma has more recently become known for his minimal interventions in daily life and socially aware services, but at the point at which this video was produced, these interests were still nascent.
Well, I can’t ignore the video anymore, and that of course is its problematic – this traumatic activity which is presented to us – these fish which are due for quite a ride, as we will see.
As the commentator for this work, and ostensibly representative of it and of the artist, the unfolding of the piece makes it tempting to expound my own strong opinions about the treatment of animals, which could come into conflict with my respect for the artist. But neither Ma, nor—I guess—you, as the audience, will thank me for making such apologies. What’s done is done, and we (the audience as well as the artist) must deal with the consequences.
I have known Ma and his work for a few years now, and the work I have seen produced by him and which I have written about over that period initially has seemed formally very different from this early piece.
Ma now works less with video and more with events and situations. He aims to formalise a set of projects, which seek to work directly with social reality. He is, for instance, undertaking an ongoing project called forget art, an adaptable undertaking that takes many forms, including exhibitions, art fairs, interventions, online social networks, etc. but aims to play with these institutions and find new ways to turn them to social use.
How then does one get from these fish to an interest in working with the forms of society?
Taking a step back, what is happening in this video? Six live golden Koi fish have been placed in a top-loading washing machine and the washing cycle is set off. As an aside, the top-loading style of washing machine is a very common element in Chinese apartments – perhaps because this top-loading aspect saves space over their front-loading brethren.
So the wash cycle starts innocuously enough with the bright metal drum filling with water, the water falling from all sides to douse the fish. Once filled, the drum begins to turn clockwise, then anticlockwise agitating the water and the fish in the process. This continues, back and forth, for about 10 minutes. The water then drains out of the drum, leaving the fish high and dry on the metal base of the machine. Followed by a fade to black.
But such a cold description of the facts of this video leaves out the affective aspect of the action, both on the fish in their tormenting and violent situation, and on the audience with their feelings when placed in front of such an act by the artist.
It is probably best if I say at this point, that the fish were relatively unharmed after their washing, living out the rest of their natural lives with a friend of the artist’s.
So what causes an artist to undertake such an action on these helpless animals? What does it mean?
Ma’s other works of video and photography at that time were concerned with the place of “nature” in our understanding of the world, and nature’s place and use value in our attempts to understand the world through our depictions of it. This would appear as Ma’s own creations or by his filming of natural history museum dioramas and reconstructions, sometimes with subtle interventions and changes by the artist, sometimes simply re-presenting the facts in front of us. Equally these constructions—with their original didactic purposes and the artists own twisting of them—serve to point up the arbitrary and fake nature of the presentation, a nature which often blatantly ignores the real needs of the animals and plants contained therein, giving the presentation for the audience priority over any welfare issues.
The Swirl presents a demonstration of a completely man-made, machine-like setting in which nature is placed to face its fate. The piece’s apparent simplicity leads to some broad claims about its significance. Is it possible to see The Swirl as a piece of social criticism, or a commentary on the artist’s existence, as critic Dorothée Brill has suggested? Are these claims a step too far?
Symbolic meaning is a well-developed part of culture. Especially in the visual arts, objects and scenes are interpreted based on their symbolic status, various objects have deep and significant meanings developed over the course of centuries, which the enlightened viewer can piece together as a further layer of meaning for the image.
So what can be said about these fish? Koi have value in Chinese tradition as symbols of abundance and prosperity. Traditional Chinese paintings will include Koi to represent these values within the overall symbolic schema they present. In neighbouring Japan, the meaning of Koi fish is slightly different, where they present an ideal of strength of purpose, and perseverance in adversity. A meaning that seems particularly appropriate to this artwork and a meaning the artist may well have been aware of when putting the fish into this predicament.
Does the washing machine have a symbolic meaning and value in itself, which when combined with the fish creates some new, composite symbolic value, designed to enlighten us as to the piece’s “higher” meaning? By placing them in a washing machine and subjecting the Koi to the swirling of the drum, what does that mean for this set of values?

The round opening of the washing machine could be said to have some formal connection with a common way of framing scenes with wall openings in Chinese gardens. These openings take various shapes, but are all designed to provide a viewpoint out into the landscape which presents the scene as an aid for contemplation. The video work titled Beijing Zoological Garden, produced by Ma a couple of years after The Swirl, makes reference to this technique as the artist wanders the animal houses of the eponymous Zoo presenting the animals and spectators therein through this idealising, round vignette.
So, is it fair to make comparisons between the roles of Koi or these framing methods in the Chinese view of landscape, with Ma’s work? How about out modern interpretations of animals and landscapes, which we present in our museums and in our imagery?
In his works Ma seems to be picking up on these traditional tropes of the role of these animals and settings, while putting them in new contexts to play with their ultimate meanings when they come into contact with their audiences, a context which also alters with time and knowledge.
However once stepping beyond the highly codified set of symbols which make up the various cultural systems, symbolic value becomes something of a futile task, as the values become arbitrary and open to re-interpretation at any point. Any value can be read into anything – with a bit of effort. Indeed, artists have a tendency to reinterpret symbols, and twist meanings to reveal hidden factors within their assumed status. Ma Yongfeng in particular playfully questions many of these assumptions in his work, playing off the symbols against each other to open up the possibility of new meanings to appear.
In his latest works, where Ma has taken on the social aspect of art as his tool, although his intentions are sincere in his attempts to engage and create an effect on society, I cannot help but notice that in every case the subjects are not dealt with as hard and fast rules, but with a canny sense of humour which lightens the tone and prevents them from becoming too sterile.
So Ma’s fish may or may not mean abundance, and the washing machine may or may not refer to traditional scenery; the action may mean many things which we can read into the video from our position of safety away from the actual creation of the work, a point from which we can make judgements about the responsibility of the artist that perpetrated such an act.
The relatively simple set up in this video allows one to look beyond the reality of the situation and try to piece together some kind of symbolic meaning behind it. But the piece never makes it too easy to remain focused on one or the other, the reality or the symbol. The Koi’s predicament is never far from our minds – nor should it be if we have any sense of empathy in us. But then neither should the reality that this is just a video of an incident which took place almost ten years ago, and which can now be looked at with some perspective and from many other points of view besides the shock value that the activity immediately proposed.
Inevitably Ma’s work reflects aspects of the artist’s experiences and is an expression of his thoughts and ideas about the world. But how far one should go to create a symbol out of this very real action seen in the video? Keeping these two readings in process is important I think. Certainly the fish are being tormented. But equally they come to represent something beyond themselves in the process. Being able to keep those two readings in view perhaps can prevent lapsing into an essentialist reading of the piece as either a brutal mistreatment of animals or an aesthetic display divorced from real-world travails.
The Swirl forces me to never to forget the reality of the fishes’ dilemma, but at the same time to hold that reality as one amongst a number of readings of the work, which makes the work important as going beyond itself, to take on a wider significance within the artist’s work and in society at large.
First published November, 2011 in ASPECT Magazine.
by Edward Sanderson
http://blog.escdotdot.com/2011/11/13/aspect-magazine-ma-yongfengs-the-swirl-2002/
What we are watching here is a video work from 2002 entitled The Swirl by Chinese artist Ma Yongfeng. This 15 minute video is one of Ma’s very first works at a point where he was displaying an interest in using what might be seen as futile behaviours, as a means of pricking the fabric of reality, and questioning it’s assumptions. Ma has more recently become known for his minimal interventions in daily life and socially aware services, but at the point at which this video was produced, these interests were still nascent.
Well, I can’t ignore the video anymore, and that of course is its problematic – this traumatic activity which is presented to us – these fish which are due for quite a ride, as we will see.
As the commentator for this work, and ostensibly representative of it and of the artist, the unfolding of the piece makes it tempting to expound my own strong opinions about the treatment of animals, which could come into conflict with my respect for the artist. But neither Ma, nor—I guess—you, as the audience, will thank me for making such apologies. What’s done is done, and we (the audience as well as the artist) must deal with the consequences.
I have known Ma and his work for a few years now, and the work I have seen produced by him and which I have written about over that period initially has seemed formally very different from this early piece.
Ma now works less with video and more with events and situations. He aims to formalise a set of projects, which seek to work directly with social reality. He is, for instance, undertaking an ongoing project called forget art, an adaptable undertaking that takes many forms, including exhibitions, art fairs, interventions, online social networks, etc. but aims to play with these institutions and find new ways to turn them to social use.
How then does one get from these fish to an interest in working with the forms of society?
Taking a step back, what is happening in this video? Six live golden Koi fish have been placed in a top-loading washing machine and the washing cycle is set off. As an aside, the top-loading style of washing machine is a very common element in Chinese apartments – perhaps because this top-loading aspect saves space over their front-loading brethren.
So the wash cycle starts innocuously enough with the bright metal drum filling with water, the water falling from all sides to douse the fish. Once filled, the drum begins to turn clockwise, then anticlockwise agitating the water and the fish in the process. This continues, back and forth, for about 10 minutes. The water then drains out of the drum, leaving the fish high and dry on the metal base of the machine. Followed by a fade to black.
But such a cold description of the facts of this video leaves out the affective aspect of the action, both on the fish in their tormenting and violent situation, and on the audience with their feelings when placed in front of such an act by the artist.
It is probably best if I say at this point, that the fish were relatively unharmed after their washing, living out the rest of their natural lives with a friend of the artist’s.
So what causes an artist to undertake such an action on these helpless animals? What does it mean?
Ma’s other works of video and photography at that time were concerned with the place of “nature” in our understanding of the world, and nature’s place and use value in our attempts to understand the world through our depictions of it. This would appear as Ma’s own creations or by his filming of natural history museum dioramas and reconstructions, sometimes with subtle interventions and changes by the artist, sometimes simply re-presenting the facts in front of us. Equally these constructions—with their original didactic purposes and the artists own twisting of them—serve to point up the arbitrary and fake nature of the presentation, a nature which often blatantly ignores the real needs of the animals and plants contained therein, giving the presentation for the audience priority over any welfare issues.
The Swirl presents a demonstration of a completely man-made, machine-like setting in which nature is placed to face its fate. The piece’s apparent simplicity leads to some broad claims about its significance. Is it possible to see The Swirl as a piece of social criticism, or a commentary on the artist’s existence, as critic Dorothée Brill has suggested? Are these claims a step too far?
Symbolic meaning is a well-developed part of culture. Especially in the visual arts, objects and scenes are interpreted based on their symbolic status, various objects have deep and significant meanings developed over the course of centuries, which the enlightened viewer can piece together as a further layer of meaning for the image.
So what can be said about these fish? Koi have value in Chinese tradition as symbols of abundance and prosperity. Traditional Chinese paintings will include Koi to represent these values within the overall symbolic schema they present. In neighbouring Japan, the meaning of Koi fish is slightly different, where they present an ideal of strength of purpose, and perseverance in adversity. A meaning that seems particularly appropriate to this artwork and a meaning the artist may well have been aware of when putting the fish into this predicament.
Does the washing machine have a symbolic meaning and value in itself, which when combined with the fish creates some new, composite symbolic value, designed to enlighten us as to the piece’s “higher” meaning? By placing them in a washing machine and subjecting the Koi to the swirling of the drum, what does that mean for this set of values?
The round opening of the washing machine could be said to have some formal connection with a common way of framing scenes with wall openings in Chinese gardens. These openings take various shapes, but are all designed to provide a viewpoint out into the landscape which presents the scene as an aid for contemplation. The video work titled Beijing Zoological Garden, produced by Ma a couple of years after The Swirl, makes reference to this technique as the artist wanders the animal houses of the eponymous Zoo presenting the animals and spectators therein through this idealising, round vignette.
So, is it fair to make comparisons between the roles of Koi or these framing methods in the Chinese view of landscape, with Ma’s work? How about out modern interpretations of animals and landscapes, which we present in our museums and in our imagery?
In his works Ma seems to be picking up on these traditional tropes of the role of these animals and settings, while putting them in new contexts to play with their ultimate meanings when they come into contact with their audiences, a context which also alters with time and knowledge.
However once stepping beyond the highly codified set of symbols which make up the various cultural systems, symbolic value becomes something of a futile task, as the values become arbitrary and open to re-interpretation at any point. Any value can be read into anything – with a bit of effort. Indeed, artists have a tendency to reinterpret symbols, and twist meanings to reveal hidden factors within their assumed status. Ma Yongfeng in particular playfully questions many of these assumptions in his work, playing off the symbols against each other to open up the possibility of new meanings to appear.
In his latest works, where Ma has taken on the social aspect of art as his tool, although his intentions are sincere in his attempts to engage and create an effect on society, I cannot help but notice that in every case the subjects are not dealt with as hard and fast rules, but with a canny sense of humour which lightens the tone and prevents them from becoming too sterile.
So Ma’s fish may or may not mean abundance, and the washing machine may or may not refer to traditional scenery; the action may mean many things which we can read into the video from our position of safety away from the actual creation of the work, a point from which we can make judgements about the responsibility of the artist that perpetrated such an act.
The relatively simple set up in this video allows one to look beyond the reality of the situation and try to piece together some kind of symbolic meaning behind it. But the piece never makes it too easy to remain focused on one or the other, the reality or the symbol. The Koi’s predicament is never far from our minds – nor should it be if we have any sense of empathy in us. But then neither should the reality that this is just a video of an incident which took place almost ten years ago, and which can now be looked at with some perspective and from many other points of view besides the shock value that the activity immediately proposed.
Inevitably Ma’s work reflects aspects of the artist’s experiences and is an expression of his thoughts and ideas about the world. But how far one should go to create a symbol out of this very real action seen in the video? Keeping these two readings in process is important I think. Certainly the fish are being tormented. But equally they come to represent something beyond themselves in the process. Being able to keep those two readings in view perhaps can prevent lapsing into an essentialist reading of the piece as either a brutal mistreatment of animals or an aesthetic display divorced from real-world travails.
The Swirl forces me to never to forget the reality of the fishes’ dilemma, but at the same time to hold that reality as one amongst a number of readings of the work, which makes the work important as going beyond itself, to take on a wider significance within the artist’s work and in society at large.
First published November, 2011 in ASPECT Magazine.







