Last Thursday, 21CB visited Opera Gallery for the grand opening of French photographer Gérard Rancinan‘s first exhibition in Asia. As we munched on pink slices of meat in the brightly lit space, we couldn’t help but think of ourselves as subjects of another Rancinan photograph, among waiters in Batman masks and champagne glasses that clinked a little too malevolently. This was performance art, we thought to ourselves, and we had fallen right into its trap.

Warning: Images may not be safe for work.

Gerard Rancinan himself.

Rancinan previously covered wars and urban riots as a photojournalist, but he now opts for an alternate sort of “reality.” His works from the Metamorphoses series—blown up to giant sizes that span the height of the gallery walls—parody masterpieces of the art world, now transmogrified into grotesque characters and pop culture icons. The works of Romantic artist and fellow Frenchman Eugène Delacroix are spoofed more than once. Leonardo da Vinci’s “The Last Supper” and Henri Matisse’s “The Dance” are also referenced. Rancinan’s glossy photographs, however, seem to replace the drama of the original painterly tableaus with an eerie artifice. After all, Rancinan made his name shooting portraits for the likes of Time and Vanity Fair.

"La Liberte Devoilee" (2008)

"Raft of Illusions" (2009)

From The Independent:

The pictures parody fashion, materialism, capitalism and religion by mimicking the set up of famous Masterpieces and subverting them [...]

Rancinan and [writer Caroline] Gaudriault were a little offended when I suggested there were comparisons to be made, technically at least, with the set up of his photographs and the style of some (very impressive) fashion photography. He agreed grudgingly that this was an influence but dismissed it as insignificant in light of the bigger ideas at hand. The former snapper for Time, Sports Illustrated and Vanity Fair has fully shed his background in favour of ‘art’.

Or to use Rancinan’s own words, there are no “frontiers between different fields.” That is, there is “no difference between a wedding photographer and a war photographer…between a painter and a photographer,” he told Time Out Hong Kong in an interview. The role of all artists are the same: to be “witnesses of our contemporary time.”

"Las Meninas" (2009)

Rancinan’s witness also comes to bear in two other sets of works: Hypotheses and Wonderful World. The latter series embraces Disney iconography, one image placing Mickey Mouse masks on armed soldiers jumping like you would in a carefully timed Facebook profile picture—overlaying an already unsettling image with an extra layer of creepy. Or consider the photograph below, in which a very posed and very bloated Mickey family watches the telly:

"Family Watching The TV" (2011)

Get it? We’re on TV. And that’s when we figured out, the real exhibition was us!

(Photograph of Rancinan by Connie Hum)

Gérard Rancinan in Hong Kong will be exhibited at Opera Gallery from November 11 to December 1.

British photographer Adrian Fisk presents his iSpeak China series, for which he traveled some 12,500 kilometers through China to complete, photographing young Chinese people aged 16 to 30 years along the way. In these photos, the subjects were handed a card and told to write “whatever they wanted to.” We’ve featured several of the more intriguing and revealing confessions below:

“In the eyes of adults, I am a very bad person in society. But the truth is, I am a very obedient person.” - Chow Liang, Gansu, 17 years old, hair stylist student on way to see father who works in another province.

“After watching television, I have many ideas, but am unable to realize them.” - Luo Zheng Chui, Yunnan, 30 years old, farmer.

“People care more about money than the past.” - Su Dong Ping, Guangdong, 22 years old, works in a tea shop.

“I want to save people's lives.” - Heng She Dong, Qinghai, 16 years old, junior high school student.

“I don’t want children!” - Wong Jing Yi, Hong Kong, 30 years old, works in a sex toys shop.

"Do not judge China from the media, because the real China is not on the papers." - Lim, Beijing, 22 years old, political science student.

(Illiterate) “When I came to the big city, I felt like I didn’t know anything.” - Yang Long Long, Gansu, 30 years old, farmer.

The end result makes up a fascinating collage of my generation across economic and social classes, hometowns, and occupations. Their collected thoughts often hint at the many rich stories waiting to be told and dreams to be realized. Whether that will happen, is something I have less faith in.

See more of the series on Adrian Fisk’s personal website. And as always, chinaSMACK has also rounded up and translated some responses to Fisk’s work from around the Chinese web community.

While Chinese graffiti artists have been reserved about infusing their work with local flavor, Japanese artists have built a street-art scene that is uniquely defined by their visual history.  There are elements of ukiyo-e, or woodblock prints of the late 19th-early 20th century, elements of modern day manga and cartoon characters, and a peculiar juxtaposition of imagery that is often found in other mediums, including Hayao Miyazaki‘s films.   Emphasis is placed on creating complete pieces with a narrative of sorts – perhaps this is a remnant of the woodblock culture, where a single image often captured or represented an entire tale. Works are often very large scale, credited in part to certain legal graffiti zones.

Graffiti Japan is a book compiled by Remo Camerota, a graffiti artist from Melbourne.  He started this project by contacting different street artists, who welcomed him with open arms and took him into their world. Remo ended up staying in various homes during his stay in Japan, learning not only about the visual culture of street art but also of the competition between various crews. The result is a stunning publication that showcases some of the best work from Japan.

Enjoy this preview into Graffiti Japan and the Japan section of the Street Art Beat.  There are some truly amazing artists to be showcased on 21CB!

(Previews of Graffiti Japan via The Tokyo Times.)

Check out the official website for Graffiti Japan here. You can also pick up a copy of the book on Amazon.com for $14.63 USD.

In my first post on Hong Kong’s graffiti, I chose to feature the King of Kowloon and the Plumber King because I found their use of the traditional Chinese medium, calligraphy, to be a refreshing addition to the genre of street art. This is because street art is, inherently, a Western import.

By definition, graffiti, unauthorized writing or drawing on a public surface, exists and has existed in various forms across the globe and throughout history, but what we now consider a the genre of graffiti art consists of styles cultivated in the streets of Philadelphia, New York, and London in the late sixties.  There are scores of innovative artists who have taken the genre far and beyond, like JR or Jef Aerosol (read about them on The Street Art Beat), but I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that the word “graffiti” calls to mind an image much like this one:

This image is of graffiti in Hong Kong, yet it could well be from any country – there’s nothing in the words or style to indicate that this was created in a city where the predominant language is not English, and the written language consists of characters, not letters.  That’s not to say that street artists in Hong Kong are any less skilled than their western counter parts – though artists in Hong Kong are equal parts foreign and local – yet I often wonder about why Chinese cursive script, considered the most free-hand of art forms by Western art historians, is scarcely used.  Consider Huai Su‘s “Autobiography” (730-770AD), one of the most revered Chinese paintings of all time (link to interactive image on the National Palace Museum site here):

The characters are written with a certain freedom, and a reckless sort of abandon and disregard for proper form.  Huai Su worked at was greatly respected by contemporaries for his free spirit and unrestrained personality and was a pioneer for cursive calligraphy.

Strikingly similar were characteristics of the early street art movement of the sixties.  There was social and cultural upheaval, discontent in the inner cities, and the voices of the people  manifested themselves in free-from writing and artwork on the streets and subway cars, a simultaneous statement of identity, of freedom, and of a cry for help.

Given these similarities, I often wonder why Chinese characters are rarely seen in graffiti.  This question is discussed in an interview with artist Xeme, of the crew KB (short for Kong Boys), by Bombing Science (full interview here):

BS: The use Chinese characters in graffiti is something North Americans rarely see done, here. This might sound like a silly question, being that you are from Hong Kong, but do you consciously use the characters to separate yourself from foreign artists? Or do you use the Chinese characters because they’re a part of your culture? Please explain your answer.

Xeme: I saw a documentary a few years ago that was asking some China writers why they never tried writing in Chinese and they replied that it’s too hard to write and develop. I felt a bit strange after hearing that answer since we wrote Chinese for most of our life and somehow they say it’s not comfortable writing it. As a result, I start writing different Chinese words every time I piece.

Of course, Xeme’s response to the question is only one answer to the question, but perhaps it is not too far off the mark.  Street art in its present form is, at its core, a Western import, and is often centered on the manipulation of various Western alphabets.  The absence of Chinese characters in the Hong Kong graffiti scene is concerning in a city often accused of having little local culture.

However, Hong Kong’s art scene is still vibrant – though local tradition may be lacking in graffiti, the works that adorn the streets of Hong Kong still reveal an active artistic spirit.  Here’s to hoping that this spirit prevails.  Below is an excerpt from the movie Graffiti Asia by The SRK that captures highlights from Hong Kong’s streets:

“The SRK is a creative studio that flows between the epicentres of London and Jakarta. Initiated by a director and producer partnership back in 2006 with a focus on documentary films, SRK grew in size to house a troupe of unique creatives whose skills encompass film-making, sound design, animation, illustration, publishing and events. “

(Images are from espvisual and bombing science.)

Angela Kung also blogs daily at kokomo, sharing art/music/food and generally pretty good vibes.

While the People’s Liberation Army (PLA)—the worlds largest military force—have been in Hong Kong since 1997, their presence has been generally innocuous. That is, an anonymous artist, Cpak Ming, decide to project the words “Who’s Afraid of Ai Wei Wei” onto the PLA barracks in April. Along with a portrait of Ai Weiwei, the projected image lasted only mere seconds and left no trace, but it was certainly enough to rouse the sleeping Communist dragon out of its nest in this mostly autonomous region. A PLA spokesman stated, “No one can paint or project pictures and images onto the outer wall of the barracks with the garrison’s permission. Such an offense is a breach of Hong Kong law. The PLA reserve its legal rights,” Later, two members of Hong Kong’s radical pro-democracy party (League of Social Democrats) were detained after they were caught spray painting graffiti of the projection at a small rally.

Despite this heavy-handed reaction to these particular images, however, most graffiti in Hong Kong is left untouched for months, even years.

There is a wide range of artists who work and who have worked in Hong Kong. Hong Kong certainly has its share of notable, western-imported, bright, colorful graffiti, artists, but for this post I’d like to focus on artists who take a more local approach to street art, using calligraphy instead of spray paint.

One such artist is the “King of Kowloon“, or Tsang Tsou Choi, a Hong Kong native who regularly defaced electricity junction boxes and walls with his calligraphy until his death in 2007. He worked into his 80s, a crippled, often shirtless old man on crutches; disowned by his family and considered insane, he never saw his own work as art – his words were often obscene and included criticisms of Queen Elizabeth – yet his admirers call him an cultural icon of Hong Kong. He’s had work exhibited at the Venice Biennale (2003) and sold at Sotheby’s, albeit posthumously. Despite his fame, he was detained with relative regularity during his lifetime and often had his work effaced. Now his public works are all but gone, with only a few conserved, including one at Tsim Sha Tsui’s ferry pier.

(via sea-cow’s Flickr)

In a NY Times article, an artist and curator remembers an encounter with the “King of Kowloon”:

“He was working at a busy intersection and the crowd around him was so great that I didn’t even see him at first… There was this shirtless old man, sitting on a trash can, painting. I stood there transfixed for an hour, but he didn’t notice me until he ran out of ink and started hollering for more. He never said please. He was the king, and kings don’t have to say ‘please’ to their subjects.”

And then there’s this second artist who has flown largely under the radar – in fact, those of you who live in Hong Kong have definitely seen his works, though perhaps you may not have thought of it as artwork at all.

The artist in question is a plumber, and his graffiti is simply advertisement for his plumbing. His words read “tong kui tso hau” (unclogs drains, repairs pipes), and he signs off with “Kui Wong” (the Plumber King). CNNGo did a feature on this ‘artist’ last December, and though they made “Plumber King” into a clear reference to “King of Kowloon”, I am suspicious about whether or not Kui Wong sees himself that way.

(via CNNGo)

Kui Wong is one of several artists who also advertise their services on the walls of Hong Kong. You can see in the photo above that there is another advertisement painted on the wall, in red. Though often overlooked, this form of advertising is no doubt a dying art, a vestige of old Hong Kong. Next time you’re out and about in the city, stop and take a look – and maybe take down his number. Everyone needs a plumber at some point.

Stay tuned for part two of this Hong Kong series, as we turn our attention to artists who employ western graffiti styles!