• English Site
• >World
• >China
• >

  The Kings of Beijing: On the Trail of China's Hot Art Market

The Kings of Beijing On the Trail of China's Hot Art Market

By Andreas Lorenz

Part 2: From Poverty to Prosperity

But he roundly denies the idea that his works might have become the object of speculation. "The buyers are intellectuals. They understand my pictures. They are not just interested in making money."

Yue is a slight, shaven-headed man. He belongs to the generation of the political pop artists who followed in the footsteps of their predecessors in the 1980s. On the wall of his enormous studio hang four new versions of the laughing figure: "These are all portraits of me in different phases and situations of my life," he says. "In the future I will paint them, too."

Over a bowl of green tea, he ponders the reasons for the boom. "People want to know what is happening in China after so many years of political reform. We artists question what is going on around us. We take a critical approach to culture and our surroundings." He is currently working on a new series in which he copies propaganda pictures and posters from the 1960s. The difference from the originals is that he leaves out all of the figures. The image of Mao Zedong is missing from an enormous landscape, with only writing paper and books left behind. At the entrance to a Revolutionary Committee meeting, the look-out is no longer there; two soldiers have disappeared from the watchtower on the Russian border. "I want to sharpen people's perspective of the past," says Yue.

Critics accuse many of his contemporaries of allowing themselves to be directed by the tastes of well-heeled foreign buyers and failing to develop artistically, the antithesis of their precursors in the 1980s, who "suddenly had to come to terms with so many outside influences and were still hungry for more, " Yue says.

Just as exciting as "85 New Wave" is the setting for the exhibition itself: the show is in a former factory in the artists' quarter "798," a conglomeration of factory buildings constructed by East German architects in the Bauhaus style. Earlier, China’s armaments workers produced electronics and ceramics here. The vast area was kept top secret and, like all army premises in China, it was given a number intended to conceal its true nature.

Today, many of these areas have been privatized and most of the engineers and workers have given way to the painters, sculptors and gallery owners who discovered the area a few years ago. "798" has become synonymous with China’s modern art scene.

Ullens, who retired from the business world in 2000, says he invested "a great deal of money" in renovating the factory space to use as the art center, although he won’t give a precise figure. The walls of the 8,000 square meter building have been painted entirely in black and white, and glass walkways link the spaces. In addition to the exhibitions, a large library of contemporary artwork is planned. The Belgian businessman also wants to train Chinese curators, because nobody else is doing that in China at the moment.

"We don’t want to sell paintings, it's not about making money," says Ullens. Costs are to be covered by a restaurant and an art store. Between exhibitions, the halls can be let out to art-conscious industrialists.

So that the character of the factory space is not lost, two former boilers have been kept and the brick kiln, with its 50 meter high chimney, is to be reconstructed. At the entrance, over a dozen security guards in black suits, red ties and crew cuts stand at attention as if awaiting review.

China’s modern art has become so valuable that it must be closely guarded.

For reasons of data protection and privacy, your IP address will only be stored if you are a registered user of Facebook and you are currently logged in to the service. For more detailed information, please click on the "i" symbol.

Post to other social networks:

• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
•