Related News
Biennale curator unfazed by woes like sponsorship and 'freak' artists
By Wang Jie |
September 23, 2012, Sunday
|
Print Edition
Print Edition
RENOWNED installation artist Qiu Zhijie is the first chief curator of a Shanghai Biennale to be an artist instead of an administrator and in the hectic two weeks before the 9th Biennale opens on October 1, he's got a lot of problems.
Still, he seems pretty calm, maybe this composure comes from years of practicing calligraphy and reading Taoist philosophy.
Qiu doesn't only talk with artists and arrange artwork in the vast converted former Nanshi Power Plant, the former Pavilion of Future at the 2010 Shanghai World Expo, with a 165-meter-high chimney. That 40,000-square-meter exhibition venue near Miaojiang Road will also become the nation's first government-sponsored contemporary art museum called the Power Station for Art. The biennale, titled "Reactivation," is its opening show.
There will be as many as 30 off-site locations for exhibitions and events around the city. Logistics sounds like a nightmare.
The biennale, held every two years, is both an international exhibition and a communications platform for lectures and exchanges among artists, curators, critics, galleries, museums and other art institutions.
Qiu is still trying to find sponsors and figure out how to use what he calls a badly designed space. He must also approve the format of invitation cards, handle reimbursements and unreasonable requests from participating artists, and a hundred housekeeping details.
Since the first Shanghai Biennale in 1996, chief curators were usually vice directors of the Shanghai Museum or the director of the local branch of the national art academy - skilled in administration, coordination, collaboration, politics and getting what they want. In an interview, Qiu seemed surprisingly tranquil, regarding the whole production with some humor. He said he isn't too worried, it will all get gone.
The Shanghai Biennale and new museum are overwhelmingly government funded. By contrast, biennales and museums in other countries are traditionally funded by foundations and operated by independent organizations, making them more independent.
Qiu, in his mid-forties, was born in Fujian Province and graduated from the print department of the China Academy of Fine Arts in Hangzhou where he now teaches. His works incorporate photography, video, calligraphy, painting, installation and performance art. They encompass Chinese philosophy and the literati spirit, as well as avant-garde concepts.
Since he was a small boy, Qiu practiced calligraphy, which requires patience and dedication. He said he wanted to learn calligraphy so he could write in his diary in a unique style that his parents couldn't decipher. Today, he is known for often keeping meeting notes using a brush on rice paper.
In 1994 Qiu began his "Tattoo" series, painting Chinese characters on images of his own body against a white wall, exploring concepts of individuality and invisibility. This series has become famous for its application of light, photography and calligraphy.
Q: What are the pros and cons of an artist being a curator?
A: Chinese art departments do not offer majors in curating. All current curators are art critics, museum directors and media people. As an artist, I know how to select and arrange works in a given space. I communicate easily with artists. The current disadvantage for me is how to find sponsorship for the biennale.
Q: What's the biggest worry?
A: Finding sponsorship. Sounds strange? This is the true situation faced by the Shanghai Biennale. Unlike the Western practice of finding a CEO for a biennale, for the Shanghai Biennale, the curator must use all possible clues to add some company logo on our album up until the very last minute.
Q: The biennale also marks the opening of Power Station for Art, China's first government-aided contemporary art museum. Are you nervous about the response?
A: To tell you the truth, I don't have any burdens ... The Shanghai Biennale is not the best or the worst biennale around the word. I won't screw it up, let alone deliver a best edition, due to the current situation (that the Shanghai Biennale is government-funded and undertaken by the new museum.) In other words, I am trying to plan an overall arrangement for the future.
Q: Compared with previous curators, you are luckier since you have 40,000 square meters of exhibition space. What's the biggest challenge of all this new space?
A: Have you seen the space? I am totally against the designer for this new museum. Frankly, I don't trust today's designers or architects in China. The entrance gate of this museum, Jesus, is designed in such a small size. The designer hasn't the slightest idea of what an entrance means to an art museum. Sometimes I need a crane to arrange works (in the huge space). Obviously, it is not functional and rational. But I accept this. Only my peers who draw poorly or don't know how to paint switch to design and architecture later. The toughest problem now is overcoming the difficulties that the designer gave us.
Q: As an artist and now a curator, do you have fresh insights?
A: I see things from different angles. For example, next time I show at a biennale, I will charge higher production fees. In the past, I was too considerate, trying to keep the budget down. But every day here I am dealing with some freak artists, who try to charge me for various things, such as their per diem, even per diem for their assistant.
Q: What do you read most often?
A: Works by Zhuangzi (Taoist philosopher).
Q: You teach in Hangzhou but live in Beijing. Is your teaching affected?
A: When I teach in Hangzhou, I have three pre-requisites: no meetings, no official titles and I alone decide what to teach.
Q: What's the biggest attraction of being an artist?
A: As an artist, you can never retire. I could play the game of art until my last moment.
Still, he seems pretty calm, maybe this composure comes from years of practicing calligraphy and reading Taoist philosophy.
Qiu doesn't only talk with artists and arrange artwork in the vast converted former Nanshi Power Plant, the former Pavilion of Future at the 2010 Shanghai World Expo, with a 165-meter-high chimney. That 40,000-square-meter exhibition venue near Miaojiang Road will also become the nation's first government-sponsored contemporary art museum called the Power Station for Art. The biennale, titled "Reactivation," is its opening show.
There will be as many as 30 off-site locations for exhibitions and events around the city. Logistics sounds like a nightmare.
The biennale, held every two years, is both an international exhibition and a communications platform for lectures and exchanges among artists, curators, critics, galleries, museums and other art institutions.
Qiu is still trying to find sponsors and figure out how to use what he calls a badly designed space. He must also approve the format of invitation cards, handle reimbursements and unreasonable requests from participating artists, and a hundred housekeeping details.
Since the first Shanghai Biennale in 1996, chief curators were usually vice directors of the Shanghai Museum or the director of the local branch of the national art academy - skilled in administration, coordination, collaboration, politics and getting what they want. In an interview, Qiu seemed surprisingly tranquil, regarding the whole production with some humor. He said he isn't too worried, it will all get gone.
The Shanghai Biennale and new museum are overwhelmingly government funded. By contrast, biennales and museums in other countries are traditionally funded by foundations and operated by independent organizations, making them more independent.
Qiu, in his mid-forties, was born in Fujian Province and graduated from the print department of the China Academy of Fine Arts in Hangzhou where he now teaches. His works incorporate photography, video, calligraphy, painting, installation and performance art. They encompass Chinese philosophy and the literati spirit, as well as avant-garde concepts.
Since he was a small boy, Qiu practiced calligraphy, which requires patience and dedication. He said he wanted to learn calligraphy so he could write in his diary in a unique style that his parents couldn't decipher. Today, he is known for often keeping meeting notes using a brush on rice paper.
In 1994 Qiu began his "Tattoo" series, painting Chinese characters on images of his own body against a white wall, exploring concepts of individuality and invisibility. This series has become famous for its application of light, photography and calligraphy.
Q: What are the pros and cons of an artist being a curator?
A: Chinese art departments do not offer majors in curating. All current curators are art critics, museum directors and media people. As an artist, I know how to select and arrange works in a given space. I communicate easily with artists. The current disadvantage for me is how to find sponsorship for the biennale.
Q: What's the biggest worry?
A: Finding sponsorship. Sounds strange? This is the true situation faced by the Shanghai Biennale. Unlike the Western practice of finding a CEO for a biennale, for the Shanghai Biennale, the curator must use all possible clues to add some company logo on our album up until the very last minute.
Q: The biennale also marks the opening of Power Station for Art, China's first government-aided contemporary art museum. Are you nervous about the response?
A: To tell you the truth, I don't have any burdens ... The Shanghai Biennale is not the best or the worst biennale around the word. I won't screw it up, let alone deliver a best edition, due to the current situation (that the Shanghai Biennale is government-funded and undertaken by the new museum.) In other words, I am trying to plan an overall arrangement for the future.
Q: Compared with previous curators, you are luckier since you have 40,000 square meters of exhibition space. What's the biggest challenge of all this new space?
A: Have you seen the space? I am totally against the designer for this new museum. Frankly, I don't trust today's designers or architects in China. The entrance gate of this museum, Jesus, is designed in such a small size. The designer hasn't the slightest idea of what an entrance means to an art museum. Sometimes I need a crane to arrange works (in the huge space). Obviously, it is not functional and rational. But I accept this. Only my peers who draw poorly or don't know how to paint switch to design and architecture later. The toughest problem now is overcoming the difficulties that the designer gave us.
Q: As an artist and now a curator, do you have fresh insights?
A: I see things from different angles. For example, next time I show at a biennale, I will charge higher production fees. In the past, I was too considerate, trying to keep the budget down. But every day here I am dealing with some freak artists, who try to charge me for various things, such as their per diem, even per diem for their assistant.
Q: What do you read most often?
A: Works by Zhuangzi (Taoist philosopher).
Q: You teach in Hangzhou but live in Beijing. Is your teaching affected?
A: When I teach in Hangzhou, I have three pre-requisites: no meetings, no official titles and I alone decide what to teach.
Q: What's the biggest attraction of being an artist?
A: As an artist, you can never retire. I could play the game of art until my last moment.
- About Us
- |
- Terms of Use
- |
-
RSS - |
- Privacy Policy
- |
- Contact Us
- |
- Shanghai Call Center: 962288
- |
- Tip-off hotline: 52920043
- 沪ICP证：沪ICP备05050403号-1
- |
- 互联网新闻信息服务许可证：31120180004
- |
- 网络视听许可证：0909346
- |
- 广播电视节目制作许可证：沪字第354号
- |
- 增值电信业务经营许可证：沪B2-20120012
Copyright © 1999- Shanghai Daily. All rights reserved.Preferably viewed with Internet Explorer 8 or newer browsers.
