Biennales and triennales are everywhere in the world. No less than five occur in Asia this fall: Shanghai (China), Taipei (Taiwan), Singapore, Busan and Gwangju (South Korea). I went to check out the South Korean biennales simply because these were the closest to Japan.
I arrived two days after the first North Korean nuclear test. There seemed to be no obvious impact on everyday life, but a national evacuation drill and the tremendous width of their highways (every major road in Korea is made for military transportation) reminded me that the Korean War is only in cease-fire mode. In fact, Gwangju Biennale, the first biennale in Asia, is also intertwined with the history and politics of Korea. It was inaugurated to celebrate the 50th anniversary of Korean independence from Japanese colonization. Located at the site of the "Gwangju Massacre"— where a pro-democracy movement was crushed in 1980, it is also said that the biennale is the central government's measure to ease the political tension with the city of Gwangju.
The citizens of Gwangju are constantly reminded of the biennale. The three-story Biennale Hall stands right in the center of the city and traffic signs along the local roads and highways point to the Biennale Hall. When posters appear in every corner of the city, citizens know it's time to go to the hall. I was told that every Gwangju citizen is semi-obliged to attend the festival. On the Friday afternoon that I attended, there were many different kinds of student groups, some from elementary schools and high schools. One group was even from a local police academy. It’s no wonder that the biennale can count 500,000 visitors in ten weeks. Led by tour guides with loudspeakers, students walked in a parade fashion through the exhibition.
Under the direction of Kim Hong-Hee, a director of Ssamzie Space, an alternative space in Seoul, the 6th Gwangju Biennale was titled Fever Variations and included the work of 85 artists and artist groups from around the world, but mostly from Asia. Its stated mission is to illuminate and re-interpret international contemporary art from an Asian standpoint. The exhibition is composed of two parts: "The First Chapter_Trace Root: Unfolding Asian Stories" (Curators: Wu Hung, Shaheen Merali, Binghui Huangfu andJacquelynn Baas) and "The Last Chapter_Trace Route: Remapping Global Cities" (Curators: Christina Ricupero, Beck Jee-sook, Chris Gilbert andCira Pascual Marquina).
Curatorial efforts were made to give the local artists a way to enter the world of contemporary art, especially in the first half of the exhibition. Eastern philosophy is used to explain the ideas of contemporary art, and works of "Asianess" are introduced. Here "Asianess" is loosely defined. The term sometimes referred to the artists' nationality, to their technique and language as specific to Asian tradition or to political issues in Asia. It was nice to find a few works, like Lida Abdul’s White House that challenged "Asianess" as defined by the Western art market.
An overwhelming number of the objects are situated in the massive exhibition space. Tour guides spoke through loudspeakers and students chatted loudly. Ironically and contrary to the rhetoric behind the exhibition, the environment was the complete opposite of Zen. In this chaotic environment, I encounteredDavid Hammons’ work Praying for Safety (1997), a sculpture composed of two kneeling Buddhas connected by a string stretched between their hands that is weighed down by a safety pin suspended in the middle. It reminded me of Hammons’ words, “the less I do, the more it is art.” If the exhibition was structured more simply, it might have conveyed the overall theme with an even stronger impact. But I understand that as a large national project, Gwangju Biennale must provide the local audience with a big picture of the international contemporary art scene. The director briefly mentioned to us that the Biennale is for the citizens of Gwangju and Korea, and, as such, may not be satisfying for art professionals.
The section devoted to Fluxus (Duchamp included) gives an interesting layer to the exhibition. Pioneering examples of "Asianess" are introduced here withNam June Paik's Enso (1974) and Zen for TV (1963). Other artists exhibited here include Joseph Beuys, George Marciunas, Daniel Spoerri, Rober Filliou & Scott Hyde and Yoko Ono. I agree with the curators of the Gwangju Biennale that the instance of Fluxus is a key to the new dimension of "Asianess." On the surface level, many of these predecessors were dealing with issues specific to their national identities, however on the fundamental level they commonly tried to shake the established power. It is a pity that the tour groups are not taken to this section.
Published in ... might be good (Issue 79, November 17, 2006)
I arrived two days after the first North Korean nuclear test. There seemed to be no obvious impact on everyday life, but a national evacuation drill and the tremendous width of their highways (every major road in Korea is made for military transportation) reminded me that the Korean War is only in cease-fire mode. In fact, Gwangju Biennale, the first biennale in Asia, is also intertwined with the history and politics of Korea. It was inaugurated to celebrate the 50th anniversary of Korean independence from Japanese colonization. Located at the site of the "Gwangju Massacre"— where a pro-democracy movement was crushed in 1980, it is also said that the biennale is the central government's measure to ease the political tension with the city of Gwangju.
The citizens of Gwangju are constantly reminded of the biennale. The three-story Biennale Hall stands right in the center of the city and traffic signs along the local roads and highways point to the Biennale Hall. When posters appear in every corner of the city, citizens know it's time to go to the hall. I was told that every Gwangju citizen is semi-obliged to attend the festival. On the Friday afternoon that I attended, there were many different kinds of student groups, some from elementary schools and high schools. One group was even from a local police academy. It’s no wonder that the biennale can count 500,000 visitors in ten weeks. Led by tour guides with loudspeakers, students walked in a parade fashion through the exhibition.
Under the direction of Kim Hong-Hee, a director of Ssamzie Space, an alternative space in Seoul, the 6th Gwangju Biennale was titled Fever Variations and included the work of 85 artists and artist groups from around the world, but mostly from Asia. Its stated mission is to illuminate and re-interpret international contemporary art from an Asian standpoint. The exhibition is composed of two parts: "The First Chapter_Trace Root: Unfolding Asian Stories" (Curators: Wu Hung, Shaheen Merali, Binghui Huangfu andJacquelynn Baas) and "The Last Chapter_Trace Route: Remapping Global Cities" (Curators: Christina Ricupero, Beck Jee-sook, Chris Gilbert andCira Pascual Marquina).
Curatorial efforts were made to give the local artists a way to enter the world of contemporary art, especially in the first half of the exhibition. Eastern philosophy is used to explain the ideas of contemporary art, and works of "Asianess" are introduced. Here "Asianess" is loosely defined. The term sometimes referred to the artists' nationality, to their technique and language as specific to Asian tradition or to political issues in Asia. It was nice to find a few works, like Lida Abdul’s White House that challenged "Asianess" as defined by the Western art market.
An overwhelming number of the objects are situated in the massive exhibition space. Tour guides spoke through loudspeakers and students chatted loudly. Ironically and contrary to the rhetoric behind the exhibition, the environment was the complete opposite of Zen. In this chaotic environment, I encounteredDavid Hammons’ work Praying for Safety (1997), a sculpture composed of two kneeling Buddhas connected by a string stretched between their hands that is weighed down by a safety pin suspended in the middle. It reminded me of Hammons’ words, “the less I do, the more it is art.” If the exhibition was structured more simply, it might have conveyed the overall theme with an even stronger impact. But I understand that as a large national project, Gwangju Biennale must provide the local audience with a big picture of the international contemporary art scene. The director briefly mentioned to us that the Biennale is for the citizens of Gwangju and Korea, and, as such, may not be satisfying for art professionals.
The section devoted to Fluxus (Duchamp included) gives an interesting layer to the exhibition. Pioneering examples of "Asianess" are introduced here withNam June Paik's Enso (1974) and Zen for TV (1963). Other artists exhibited here include Joseph Beuys, George Marciunas, Daniel Spoerri, Rober Filliou & Scott Hyde and Yoko Ono. I agree with the curators of the Gwangju Biennale that the instance of Fluxus is a key to the new dimension of "Asianess." On the surface level, many of these predecessors were dealing with issues specific to their national identities, however on the fundamental level they commonly tried to shake the established power. It is a pity that the tour groups are not taken to this section.
Published in ... might be good (Issue 79, November 17, 2006)