• Razgovori
• 03.05.2017.
• Razgovor vodila: Katarina Kostandinović
• 0
  4433

Predstavljanje umetnika / Introducing the artist: Lee Kit (1. deo / part 1)

>>> Please scroll down for the English version

 

 

 

Serija razgovora Predstavljanje umetnika započeta je u februaru 2017. godine kao uvod u izložbu Kada se Drugi susreće sa drugim Drugim koja će biti otvorena od 6. juna do 1. jula 2017. godine u Kulturnom centru Beograda. Izložba je autorski projekat Biljane Ćirić, nezavisne kustoskinje koja živi i radi u Šangaju (Kina). Razgovori su pokrenuti sa ciljem da se domaća scena upozna sa umetnicima koji po prvi put izlažu u Srbiji. Umetnici koji učestvuju na izložbi su: Birdhead (Kina), Stjuart Ringholt (Australija), Li Kit (Hong Kong), Ho Cunjen (Singapur), Li Liao (Kina), Fajen d’Evi i Keti Vest (Australija), Polina Kanis (Rusija), les gens d’Uterpan (Francuska), Hilma Sofia (Indonezija), Vladimir Nikolić (Srbija), Siniša Ilić (Srbija), Irena Haiduk (Srbija), Ši Junjun (Tajvan), Hu Jun (Kina), Sandra Stojanović (Srbija), Gorana Bačevac i Nadežda Kirćanski (Srbija), Lola Gonzalez (Francuska) i Maider Lopez (Španija). 

 

Li Kit (Lee Kit) je vizuelni umetnik, rođen u Hong Kongu 1978. godine gde je i diplomirao na Univerzitetu likovnih umetnosti  2003. godine na odseku za slikarstvo. Trenutno živi i radi u Tajpeiju na Tajvanu. Samostalne izložbe imao je u Gentu (A small sound in your head, S.M.A.K, 2016); Mineapolisu (Hold your breath, dance slowly, The Walker Art Centre, 2016); Tokiju (The voice behind me, Shiseido Gallery, 2015); Njujorku (How are things on the west coast?, Jane Lombard Gallery, 2014); na 55. Venecijanskom Bijenalu („You (you)“, 2013); Šangaju (Every breath you take, Minsheng Art Museum, 2012); Pekingu (House M, The Pavilion, 2012; This is not an easy thing, Arrow Factory, 2012) itd. Takođe, učestvovao je na grupnim izložbama kao što su Šardža bijenale, UAE (2015); Uralsko Bijenale, Jekaterinburg, (2015); Room Service, Staatliche Kunsthalle, Baden Baden, (2014); Beating in the Bush, Bonnefantanmuseum, Mastriht, (2014); Hugo Boss Asia Art, Rockbund Museum, Šangaj (2013); The Ungovernables, New Museum, Njujork, (2012); Print/Out, MoMA, Njujork (2012); Platform in Kimusa, Seul (2009); Friends of the Divided Mind, Royal College of Art, London (2009); Sprout From White Night, Bonnier Kuntshall, Stokholm (2008), itd.

 

 

 

 

Kit, pročitala bih sledeće rečenice:
– Nedelja popodne: Piknik sa prijateljima i slikanom tkaninom u Jung Šu Ou, Sai Kung. (2003)
– Jednog dana: Ručak sa mamom i prijateljima i slikanom tkaninom kod kuće. (2003)
– Jednog sunčanog dana: Piknik sa prijateljima i slikanom tkaninom u Vai Čaiju, Sai Kung. (2003)
– Jedne noći: Večera sa prijateljima i slikanom tkaninom. (2003)
– Državni praznik: Piknik sa prijateljima i slikanom tkaninom na Lama ostrvu, Hong Kong. (2004)
– Idealni standard: (Savršena postavka: ne raditi kod kuće, besposlen kod kuće sa slikanom tkaninom kao stolnjakom i zavesom, 5.4.2005). (2005)
Možeš li mi reći šta ove rečenice označavaju?

 

U pitanju je piknik iz 2003. godine (Nedelja popodne: Piknik sa prijateljima i slikanom tkaninom u Jung Šu Ou, Sai Kung, Hong Kong). I dalje sam studirao na koledžu, studirao sam umetnost. Prostirka je zapravo moja slika. Slikao bih ovakve tkanine i onda bih ih prao. Naime, proces pranja je mnogo duži nego proces oslikavanja. Bio sam na koledžu, dakle, bio sam arogantan. To je bio pravi način da odgovorim svojim profesorima ili da odgovorim na njihova pitanja. Pre nego što bih tkanine upotrebio, one su predstavljale slike.  Te bi me studenti i profesori ispitivali – „Da li je to realizam?“, hm, da, stolnjak. – „Da li su apstrakcija?“, očigledno, patern/obrazac, boja, struktura, imam sve to.

To je bio jednostavan način da se otresem glupih teorija i glupavih pitanja u školi. Ali, nastavio sam da ih oslikavam, i osećam da u tom procesu slikanja i pranja postoji jedan intimni momenat. Oslikao sam verovatno oko dvadeset ili trideset tkanina, ne mogu da se setim, neke su bile manje, neke veće. I onda, jednog dana u Hong Kongu, 2003. godine, desio se SARS. Hong Kong je veliki grad, veoma naseljen, ali za to vreme, postao je veoma tih, smrtonosno tih. Ja sam tada živeo preko puta bolnice u kojoj je mnogo ljudi umiralo. Tako smo jednog dana moja bivša devojka i ja (tada smo bili zaljubljeni) rešili da odemo na piknik, upitala me je – „Hoćemo na piknik?“, ja sam rekao – „Da, naravno!“. Onda sam shvatio da, OK, ako ćemo ići na piknik, trebaće nam prostirka za piknik. Setio sam se da imam jednu sliku na stolu i rešio da je upotrebim kao prostirku. To nije bila umetnost u pitanju, ovaj piknik nije imao veze sa umetnošću. Nakon piknika sam usnimio nekoliko fotografija. I nekoliko dana kasnije sam imao te fotografije u ruci i shvatio, OK, možda sam započeo nešto čemu se nisam nadao. To je bila slučajnost.

 

 

Neretko se tvoji rani radovi i slikane tkanine dovode u vezu sa Danijelom Birenom (Daniel Buren) i minimalistima. Ali ti često govoriš da je Vermer tvoj omiljeni slikar.

 

Da, do danas on je jedini umetnik koji mi se zaista, zaista dopada. Vermer, stari holandski slikar.
Ja zapravo ne koristim svoje slikane tkanine samo u svakodnevnom životu, sa ili bez prijatelja. Ponekad ih stavljam i u tzv. politički kontekst. Na primer ovu (1. jul: Demonstracije sa prijateljima i slikanom tkaninom, 2004), u pitanju je demonstracija u Hong Kongu, bila je to najveća demontracija u Hong Kongu, ikada. Naravno da ljude sa predznanjem iz istorije umetnosti podseća na Danijela Birena. To sam ja (pokazujući na fotografiju, levo), ugojio sam se (smeh), bio sam veoma mršav. Razlika je u tome što su slikane tkanine za mene predstavljale dnevnik, i kao takvog, niko ga nije mogao čitati. To mi se dopada, da niko ne može razumeti o čemu govorim. Ovo su slikane tkanine, ja nestajem. Ne mogu da izbegnem činjenicu da posedujem predznanje iz istorije umetnosti. Tako da, poznajem (rad) Danijela Birena. Mislim da je poenta u tome kako mogu da formulišem svoj način bavljenja umetnošću politički, nego da prosto upotrebljavam takav vizuelni jezik, kao što je jezik minimalista. D. Bjuren je tvrdio da njegovi obrasci/paterni nemaju nikakvo značenje, već da su samo paterni.

Vermer. On nije imao puno slika, ali zapravo, puno njegovih slika bavilo se političkim i društvenim pitanjima tog vremena. Na primer, uvek je neka mapa iza žena ili drugih likova na njegovim slikama i mapa je obično ukazivala na istorijska pitanja ili probleme tog vremena. Dakle, značenje je bilo sakriveno. Ali to razumem na taj način jer Vermer nije bio umetnik, već je bio majstor, bio je biznismen, kako to ljudi danas govore, ali zapravo, niko ne zna.

 

 

 

 

Jednom prilikom si spomenuo da ne veruješ u političku umetnost, ali veruješ da se umetnošću možeš baviti politički. Da li je korišćenje paterna umesto reči bilo neka vrsta gesta/stava, naročito tokom protesta u Hong Kongu? Takođe, koristiš i druge motive iz političkog konteksta?

 

Zašto da ne, stvarima se možemo baviti iz više pravaca. Ne verujem u političku umetnost uopšte, baš zato što su se mnogi umetnici u prošlosti bavili političkom umetnošću, zato što je postajao određeni društveni sadržaj i društveni kontekst. Danas to ne funkcioniše. Ako bih se danas bavio političkom umetnošću, gde bih je izložio? U galeriji? U muzeju? Komercijalnoj galeriji? Ljudi bi gledajući moje radove sugerisali da se radi o političkoj umetnosti. Mislim da je to veoma licemerno. Zato bih se umetnošću bavio politički, ili ako bih želeo da se bavim politikom, ne bih se bavio umetnošću… Tako da, mislim da radim obe stvari.

 

 

U svoje radove često implementiraš političke komentare kroz upotrebu stranih proizvoda i engleskih reči koje referišu na sveprisutni marketinški kapitalizam u Hong Kongu. Na neki način si opsednut predmetima, odakle potiče tvoja opsesija?

 

Možda zbog toga što sam rođen u Hong Kongu i dok sam odrastao Britanci su nas kolonijalizovali, to nije bio moj izbor. Odlazio bih u supermarket i ono što sam tamo mogao da vidim nisu bili kineski proizvodi, video sam zapadnjačke proizvode, takoreći. Npr. Džonson šampon, mogu još puno njih imenovati. I svi ti proizvodi meni su bili tako poznati. Čak i sam grad, struktura je više londonska nego pekinška. Npr. kada odem u Peking osećam se izgubljeno, kada odem u London osećam se kao kod kuće. Čak i ulice imaju ista imena.

Jednom sam imao fantaziju dok sam se tuširao, nije bilo u vezi umetnosti. Bio sam go i ko me je posmatrao? Bile su to sve te bočice. Džonson, Nivea – Nivea kremu obožavam. Ne znam zašto. One su bile te koje su me posmatrale nagog. Onda sam odrastao, postao umetnik, u jednom trenutku nisam želeo da budem umetnik, iako sam studirao umetnost. Prosto se dogodilo. I shvatio sam dvadeset godina kasnije da iako koristim logoe proizvoda u svojim slikama, u instalacijama ili postavkama, mislim da za mene oni predstavljaju nešto poput prikaza određene emocije ili ljudi.

Veoma sam opsednut skupljanjem šolja i čaša. Mislim da ako je sto prazan, tu nema atmosfere. Takođe, na neki način sam opsednut slikanjem logoa, zato što svašta sakupljam. Imam preko 100 kutija i boca Nivea kreme, različitog oblika, iz raznih država, siguran sam da ću već sutra kupiti srpski primerak Nivea kreme. Ovakvim načinom rada ne napadam niti kritikujem konzumerizam ili šta god, mislim da je kasno baviti se time. Globalizacija se već dogodila, ja sam kolonijalizovan, mozak mi je ispran. Ali sam slobodan. Već sam doveo svoje emocije i asocijacije u vezu sa ovim proizvodima, njihovim logoima. Mislim da svi mi imamo slično iskustvo, kada vidimo neki predmet, kada je taj proizvod doveden u vezu sa nekim tvojim iskustvom. Npr. tvoj bivši/bivša je kupovao/kupovala određenu bocu (vode), kada god bi videla takvu bocu, podsetila bi te na njega/nju. Takva vrsta asocijacije pokreće moju opsesiju predmetima. I danas ne mogu da objasnim ljudima zašto bih ceo dan mogao provesti kod kuće, gledajući u čašu na stolu, pored prozora, na suncu – to mi se čini prelepo.

 

 

 

 

Interesantna je priča u vezi tvoje izložbe ili postavke, kako više preferiraš da nazivaš svoje instalacije, na Sajmu umetnosti u Bazelu 2011. godine.

 

Ne volim inače svoje radove da nazivam slikom ili instalacijom, ali lično, mislim da sam slikar, iako se bavim videom, bilo čime, ipak mislim da sam slikar. Ali ne volim da koristim takve kategorizacije kao što je instalacija ili slikarstvo. Zato što kada ljudi čuju takve kategorizacije, teže da razmišljaju o istoriji instalacije ili istoriji slikarstva, bla, bla, bla. To me mnogo nervira, da pričam o umetnosti, ne o svojoj, već da govorim o umetnosti u okviru tih kategorija. Jer, onda govorimo o umetnosti na jedan uopšten način, a ne govorimo o njenom sadržaju. Dakle, najlakši je način da se moji radovi ne kategorišu kao instalacija ili slikarstvo, ja ih nazivam postavka.

U pitanju je Sajam umetnosti u Bazelu (Kako namestiti stan za Džonija, 2011), bio je to samostalni odeljak, i ja sam bio tzv. prvi umetnik iz Hong Konga koji izlaže u Bazelu, moja galerija u Hong Kongu bila je veoma srećna zbog toga. Ja sam bio u fazonu – sve je ovo sranje. Na takvim sajmovima umetnosti ljudi žele i obično ljudi razumeju ideju rada u roku od 30 sekundi, do minut, ali o ovom radu smo mogli da pričamo satima. Zato što sam imao oko 100 radova unutar postavke, a ovakva postavka je veoma popularna u Hong Kongu. Npr. ako želiš da kupiš stan, ljudi ti pokažu prikaz stana, tvoju kuću iz snova, što ne znači da ćeš to i dobiti. Na Sajmu smo prodavali ovaj stan. Kako se to moglo izvesti je ovako: u kuhinjskom prostoru je bila ljubičasta slika, ako bi se nekome dopala slika, on ili ona ne bi mogao/mogla kupiti samo sliku, već čitavu kuhinju, uključujući i pod. Prodavali smo je po metru kvadratnom.

 

I delili ste brošure ljudima koji su dolazili?

 

Da, čak smo i brošure pripremili, čitavu fasciklu, i za ljude koji su bili zainteresovani to bi se pretvorilo u pravi pakao, jer smo mi stvarno prodavali stan. Pripremili smo sve informacije u vezi ovog stana, kako se može postaviti u budućnosti, kako bi se u njega moglo uložiti. Pripremili smo i ugovor koji su ljudi mogli da potpišu. Na neki način, nismo pokušavali da udovoljimo ljudima na sajmu. Najjeftinije je bilo kupatilo, zato što je bilo najmanje, najskuplji je bio prostor dnevnog boravka. Četiri prostorne celine su se mogle kupiti – kupatilo, kuhinja, dnevna soba i spavaća soba. Ali da se nekome sve to dopalo i da je neko poželeo kupiti ceo projekat – onda ne. Da se nekome zaista dopao ceo projekat, to bi značilo da se slažu sa idejom. Te bi trebalo razmisliti o novom/drugačijem projektu. Nismo zapravo prodavali projekat, već kvadratni metar. O ovoj postavci bih mogao da pričam satima.

 

 

 

 

 

Kao slikar, često opisuješ svoje izložbe kao trodimenzionalno platno, okarakterisano konvencijama slikarstva: svetlo, perspektiva, dubina, kompozicija. Dobar primer za to bi mogla da posluži postavka na Venecijanskom Bijenalu 2013. godine, „Ti (ti)“.

 

Bio sam pozvan da predstavljam Hong Kong, a Hong Kong čak nije ni država. Naime, bio sam pozvan da predstavljam Hong Kong na Bijenalu, razgovarao sam sa kustosom koji je moj dobar prijatelj. Zaključili smo da ne želimo da postupamo po pravilima. Svi smo razumeli da je ovakva vrsta bijenala stara škola, u pozadini je toliko skrivenih pravila. Cilj je da prikažeš najbolje iz svoje zemlje, iz svog grada. Ali šta je najbolje? Svi ti porivi su nekako glupi. I nacionalni paviljon, šta je nacionalni paviljon? Da smo kritikovali te porive kao što smo uradili u prethodnom projektu (u Bazelu), mislim da ne bismo uspeli. Tako da smo shvatili da je ignorisanje najbolja kritika. Desilo se to da nisam izložio svoje slikane tkanine, nisam izložio radove iz prethodnih projekata. Bio je to potpuno novi projekat i mislim da je imalo veze sa samootkrivanjem. Za naziv „Ti (ti)“ imam metaforu, to u stvari „ti“ pozivaš „sebe“. To se obično dešava ujutru, kada stojiš u kupatilu ispred ogledala. Kada kažeš „ti“, obraćaš se samom sebi, tako da „Ti (ti)“ zapravo znači „Ja“. Malo komplikovano, ali ova izložba je bila o meni, ali ne o mojim ličnim osećanjima, naprotiv. Želeo sam samo da uhvatim taj spokojni trenutak kod kuće, ali taj spokojni trenutak nije uvek prijatan. Ponekad je ljut, ponekad je potisnut.

 

 

kraj prvog dela razgovora

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Interviewed by: Katarina Kostandinović
Proofreading: Katarina Andrejević

 

A series of artists’ talks, Introducing the artist, that started in February 2017, served as a preface to the upcoming exhibition When the Other meets the Other Other, which opens on 6^th of June and closes on 1^st of July 2017 at Cultural Center of Belgrade. The exhibition is an author’s project of Biljana Ćirić, an independent curator based on Shanghai, China. A series of artists’ talks was meant to introduce the artists who are showing their work in Serbia for the first time. The artists included in the exhibition are: Birdhead (China), Stuart Ringholt (Australia), Lee Kit (Hong Kong), Ho Tzunyen (Singapore), Li Liao (China), Fayen d’Evie and Katie West (Australia), Polina Kanis (Russia), les gens d’Uterpan (France), Hilma Sophia (Indonesia), Vladimir NIkolić (Serbia), Sinisa Ilić (Serbia), Irena Haiduk (Serbia), Shih Yunyun (Taiwan), Hu Yun (China), Sandra Stojanović (Serbia), Gorana Bačevac and Nadežda Kirćanski (Serbia), Lola Gonzalez (France), Maider Lopez (Spain).

 

Lee Kit is a visual artist, born in Hong Kong 1978, where he graduated from The Chinese University of Hong Kong, Fine Art Department. He lives and works in Taipei, Taiwan. Solo exhibitions (selection): A small sound in your head, S.M.A.K, Gent, 2016; Hold your breath, dance slowly, The Walker Art Centre, Minneapolis, 2016; The voice behind me, Shiseido Gallery, Tokyo, 2015; How are things on the west coast?, Jane Lombard Gallery, New York, 2014; „You (you)“, the 55th Venice Biennale, Venice, 2013; Every breath you take, Minsheng Art Museum, Shanghai, 2012; House M, The Pavilion, Beijing, 2012; etc. Group exhibitions (selection): Sharjah Biennial 12: The past, the present, the possible, Sharjah, UAE, 2015; Ural Biennial, Yekaterinburg, 2015; Room Service, Staatliche Kunsthalle, Baden Baden, 2014; Beating in the Bush, Bonnefantanmuseum, Mastriht, 2014; Hugo Boss Asia Art, Rockbund Museum, Shanghai, 2013; The Ungovernables, New Museum, New York, 2012; Print/Out, MoMA, New York, 2012; Platform in Kimusa, Seul, 2009; Friends of the Divided Mind, Royal College of Art, London, 2009; Sprout From White Night, Bonnier Kuntshall, Stockholm, 2008; etc.

 

 

Kit, I would like to read a few sentences:
-Sunday afternoon: Picnic with friends and hand-painted cloth at Yung Shu O, Sai Kung. (2003)
-One day: Lunch with mum and friends with hand-painted cloth at home. (2003)
-Another sunny day: Picnic with friends and hand-painted cloth at Wan Chai, Sai Kung. (2003)
-One night: Dinner with friends and hand-painted cloth. (2003)
-Public holiday: Picnic with friends and hand-painted cloth at Lamma Island, HK. (2004)
-Ideal standard: (A perfect setting: nothing to do at home with the hand-painted cloth as table cloth and window curtain, 5-4-2005). (2005)
Can you tell me what these mean?

 

This is a picnic I did in 2003 (Sunday afternoon: Picnic with friends and hand-painted cloth at Yung Shu O, Sai Kung, Hong Kong). I was still studying at the college, I studied art. The picnic cloth is actually my painting. I painted this kind of hand-painted cloths and washed them. Actually, the washing process is longer than the painting process. And I was at the college, so I was arrogant. It was a very good way to answer to my professors or their questions. Before I used them (cloths) they were paintings. And students and the professors would ask me “are they realist paintings” – Hm, yeah, tablecloth. “Are they abstract?” – Obviously, pattern, color, structure, I’ve got everything.

So that was just an easy way for me to get rid of all these theories or stupid questions at the school. But, I kept making them, I feel like there was a very intimate moment between this painting and washing process. And then I made like twenty or thirty, can’t remember exactly, hand-painted cloths, some of them were big, some of them were small. And then one day in Hong Kong in 2003. SARS happened. Hong Kong is a very busy city, very crowded, but at the time, Hong Kong suddenly became very quiet, deadly quiet. And I was actually living in front of the hospital where a lot of people were dying. So one day me and my ex-girlfriend, we were in love with each other at the time. So one day she asked me “Shall we go to picnic?” I said “Yes, of course!”. Then we went to picnic. And then I realized, that, ok, if we are going to picnic, we would need a picnic cloth. I realized I have some paintings on my table, and then I used them for the picnic. It wasn’t about art. This picnic wasn’t about art. But after the picnic, we took some photos. So a few days later I had this photograph, in my hand, I realized, ok, maybe I started something I didn’t expect. It was a coincidence.

 

 

Often in your early work and your hand-painted cloths, there were drawn parallels with the work of Daniel Burren and minimalism. But, you often say that Vermeer is your favorite painter.

 

Yes, until now he’s the only artist I really, really like. Vermeer, a very old Dutch painter. I actually don’t use these hand-painted cloths only in my daily life, with or without friends. Sometimes I even put them in the so-called political context. For example this one (1st of July: Demonstration with friends and hand-painted cloth, 2004), it was a demonstration in Hong Kong, it was the biggest ever demonstration in Hong Kong. Of course it reminds people who have art history background  of Daniel Burren. That was me (pointing at the photo), I grew fatter (laughs). I was very skinny. And I think that the difference is that I really got all this hand-painted cloths as my diary, but as a diary, no one can read it. I kind of like it. That no one understands what I’m talking about. These are hand-painted cloths, I disappear. I cannot escape that I have an art history background. So I know (about) Daniel Burren. I think that the main thing is how can I formulate my way of doing art politically, rather than simply using that kind of visual language, like minimalist language. Daniel Burren claimed that his patterns don’t have any meaning at all, except they are just patterns.

Vermeer. He didn’t have a lot of paintings, but actually a lot of his paintings were of very political or social matter at the time. For example, there was always a map behind his woman or other characters in his paintings. And the map told historical issues or problems at the time. So the meaning was rather hidden. But I would understand it in a way because Vermeer was not an artist, he was rather a craftsmen. He was a businessman, as people are saying nowadays, but actually no one knows.

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

You mentioned on one occasion that you do not believe in political art but you believe in doing art politically. So using patterns instead of words was some kind of statement, especially during that time, during protests in Hong Kong. And you also use other motifs from political context?

 

I think why not, we can do things in different directions. I don’t believe in political art at all: Just because in the past a lot of artists were making political art, because there was a certain social content and social context. It doesn’t work that way now. If I make political art now, then where will I show it? In a gallery? In a museum? In a commercial gallery? Then people looking at my art will suggest that it is political art. I think that’s very hypocritical. But I’d rather do art in a political way. Or sometimes, if I do want to be political, I actually don’t need to make art. So I think I’m doing both.

You frequently impart political commentary in your work through an embedded use of foreign products and English words that reference the omnipresence of market capitalism surrounding Hong Kong. And in a way you are obsessed with objects, where does your obsession come from?

Perhaps because I was born in Hong Kong and while I was growing up I was colonized by the British, it was not my choice. So when I went to the supermarket, what I saw were not Chinese products, those were Western products, let’s say. Like Johnson shampoo, for example. I can name a lot of them. And all of them are so familiar to me. Even the city itself, the structure is more London than Beijing. For example when I go to Beijing, I feel lost, but when I go to London I feel at home. Even the streets’ names are the same.

I had a fantasy while I was taking a shower and it wasn’t about art. I was naked. And who is watching me? It was all these bottles. The Johnson’s, or Nivea, and I love Nivea cream a lot. Don’t know why. They were the ones who were looking at me naked. Then I grew up, became an artist, and at one point I didn’t want to be an artist, even though I studied art. It just happened. And I realized 20 years after, that even though I make use of this products’ logo to make paintings, in my installations or settings, I think that to me they are more like portraits of certain emotion and people.

I’m very obsessed with collecting cups and glasses. Just because I think that, if I put a glass on the table, it will no longer be empty. If the table’s empty it has no atmosphere. And then I’m also a kind of obsessed with these logo paintings, because I collect a lot of objects. I have more than 100 Nivea cream bottles and boxes; different styles that I’ve gotten from different countries. I’m sure tomorrow I’ll go and buy a Serbian version of Nivea cream. For this kind of work I’m not attacking or criticizing the consumerism or whatever. I think it’s too late to discuss about it. Globalization has happened already, I’ve been colonized, I’ve been brainwashed. But I have the freedom. I have already invested some of my emotions and my associations towards all these kinds of product logos. I think we all have this experience: When we see an object, when that object was associated to something you experienced. For example, your ex boyfriend/girlfriend used to buy this bottle, then when you see the bottle you’ll remember him/her. This kind of association was my obsession towards all these objects. And somehow even now I cannot explain to people why I could be sitting at home, looking at the glass on the table, beside a window, under the sunlight and find it so beautiful.

 

 

 

 

 

The Art Fair in Basel in 2011 is very interesting story: The exhibition and your setting, as you prefer to call it, rather than installation.

 

I usually don’t call my works paintings or installations. But personally, I think I’m a painter, even though I make use of video, make use of everything, but I think I’m a painter. Still, I don’t want to use these kinds of categories, like installations or paintings. Because when people hear this kind of categorization, they tend to think about history of installation, or history of painting, blah, blah, blah.

I find this very annoying, to talk about art. Not my art, but to talk about art in this kind of categorization. Because we are talking about art in a very general way but not about the content of art. So I think that the easiest way is not to call my work installation or painting, I call it a setting.

This was an Art Fair in Basel, it was a solo booth (How to set up an apartment for Johnny, 2011). I was the so-called Hong Kong artist ever to exhibit in Basel. My gallery in Hong Kong was very happy about it. I was like – all this thing is bullshit. In these kind of art fair contests people want to and get the idea of the work within 30 seconds, to one minute. But for this work actually, we could’ve been explaining it for hours. Because I had 100 works inside this setting, and this setting is very popular, and very common in Hong Kong. For example, if you want to buy an apartment, people show you a demonstration apartments, you dream house, which means that’s not what you’re buying. In an art fair we were selling this apartment. How did we do it is that you could see a kitchen area, with purple painting. If someone liked the painting, he/she couldn’t have bought it without buying the whole kitchen area, including the floor. So we were selling it by square feet.

 

 And you were giving brochures to people who were visiting?

Yeah, we even prepared brochures, a folder, so if people were really interested in sitting down it would had been a disaster because we were really selling the apartment. We prepared all these information about this apartment, how you can install it in the future, how you can invest in it. We even had the agreement that people could sign. In a way, we were not trying to please the people in an art fair. The cheapest one was the bathroom area, because it was smaller, and the most expensive one was the living room area. There were four parts to sell – bathroom, kitchen, living room and bedroom. But if someone really liked it, if they wanted to collect the whole project – then no. Because if you really would like the whole project, that means that you agree with the idea. So maybe we should sit down and do another project. What happened is that we didn’t sell this work, but the way we were selling it was by square feet. I could keep talking for hours about this setting .

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As a painter, you often describe your exhibitions as three-dimensional canvases, characterized by the conventions of painting: Light, perspective, depth, and composition. Good example of that could be the setting at the Venice Biennial in 2013, called “You (you)”.

 

I was invited to do, to so-called represent Hong Kong, and Hong Kong is not even a country. Anyway, I was invited to represent Hong Kong at the Venice Biennial, and I was talking to the curator who is my very good friend. And then we kind of didn’t want to follow the rules. I think that we all understood that this kind of biennial was very old school, it had all these hidden rules behind it. You tend to show the best of your country, your city. But what is the best? All these notions are a kind of stupid. And the national pavilion. What is a national pavilion? But if we criticized all these notions as if we did in this project I think it would’ve failed. So maybe the best way to criticize it is to ignore it. What happened was I didn’t show my hand painted cloths, I didn’t show any of my work from previous projects. It was a totally new project, and I think it’s about self revelation. The title You (you), I have a metaphor for it, it’s you calling you. When would this happen is actually in the morning, when you are standing inside your bathroom, looking in the mirror. When you say “you” you are talking to yourself. So “You (you)” means “I”. A bit complicated, but this show was about myself, but not about my personal feelings at all. I wanted to capture just a quiet moment at home, but that kind of quiet moment is not beautifully quiet. Sometimes is angry, sometimes is suppressed.

 

 

end of the first part of the interview