Much discussion has centered around the morality, efficacy and spectacularity of Xu Zhen’s installation, ‘The Starving of the Sudan,’ which was included as part of a larger solo exhibition at Long March Space in November-December 2008. Below is part of the discussion occurring between RedBox Review Contributors at the time:
From Katie Grube [Nov. 3]
On Saturday, Xu Zhen unveiled his most recent project at Long March Space.? The work juxtaposed?space technology with a startling scene of destitution that alluded to Kevin Carter’s Pulitzer Prize winning photo of a starving Sudanese child moments from death and a vulture’s mouth.? Although the exhibition was presented as a discussion of developing world dichotomies, it will more likely be remembered for its installation of a live child five meters from a mechanical vulture amongst the dirt and reeds evocative of the northern African desert.? The child and mother, both willing particim, pants in the exhibition, sit in a scene created for visual consumption.
Once past installation’s sensationalism, a success of this exhibition (perhaps its only?) is its ability to turn voyeurism into an introspective act.? Immediately upon entering I became both the observer and the observed, pushed by non-normative exhibition installation into a deeply personal realm that forced me to address ethical and moral issues surrounding both obvious and theoretical concerns - the Sudanese war, poverty, starvation, photojournalistic responsibility, the media’s coverage of war and destitution and, most of all, my passive consumption of art, exhibition, mass media and performance.
From Katie Grube [Nov. 18]
To note, Zoe Butt from Long March has commented on Xu Zhen’s exhibition this week’s Conversations.? She articulates the difficulties associated with this exhibition and, obliquely, why the gallery undertook such a provocative project. Specifically, I find Zoe’s last few sentences exceptionally poignant:
“…however in ‘Impossible is Nothing’ [Xu Zhen] controversially challenges and implicates his own artistic profession as possible farce. What, quite ironically, saves it from pure spectacle are the subjects he forces his viewers, and indeed himself, to confront. By manipulating the platform of art at his disposal, perhaps seeking some kind of reconciliation with his own involvement in a visual system of knowledge that is in many ways vacuous and superficial, he surreptitiously plants a question in everyone’s mind of the meaning of contemporary art, and its ability to provoke our own understanding of passive participation in the world’s chronic illnesses.”
From Henri Beniam [Nov. 18]
I finally made it to the exhibition a few days ago to check it out for myself after hearing so much buzz (positive and negative, but mostly negative).? Overall I think that perhaps the exhibition was over-hyped and that my reaction was less visceral than those who went to the exhibition without much previous knowledge.
Katie, I’m curious what you mean by having the feeling that you were both the observer and the observed in this work?? For me, the work puts the viewer firmly in the place of the observer - of course there is a self-reflexive effect of the piece in that it forces us to question our place (moral standing) as an observer.? We are confronted with the reality of the original photograph and forced to think about how much of our consumption of news media (particularly when it relates to the Third World) is really voyeurism under another name.? Though I will admit I googled the original photo and found it to be much more powerful, but, on my computer screen, I did not feel implicated in the same way. Another interesting topic for discussion is the significance of a Chinese artist making this work - which I’m sure is something that Xu Zhen intends to probe.? China itself is often subject to this same voyeuristic treatment.
What I have heard chatted about the most regarding this piece are its ethics, using the child in live performance, etc.? The piece in principle doesn’t bother me very much and seemed to parallel child actors.? My biggest gripe with the exhibition was that it was obvious this child was not a child actor.? The day I went, he was interacting with certain viewers.? While I was told not to enter the room, a women with a “professional” looking camera could go right up to the child, take his photo and chat with him (in Chinese - the mother and child now live in Guangzhou).? The mother was also there in plain view with someone that looked like an *ayi*.? The mother’s visible presence - it should be noted, she is not at all part of the work - was for me the strongest sign of the child’s exploitation. Long March did not skimp on this work - Angie already noted the child’s (mother’s?) payment - but also the installation itself with heat lamps, mud floor clearly cost a great deal.? However, the performance aspect seemed a little sloppy to me and to distract from what I assume was the original intention of the work.?
I’m curious, did anyone attend the opening? Was the child sitting quietly?? Was the mother also sitting along the side of the room?
From Katherine Don [Nov. 18]
At the opening, there were many observers standing in the room, all (like typical viewers these days) holding their cameras out, zooming in on the child, the vulture, and the visitors entering the room. There was a low buzz of people making conversation but little movement as people stared and watched for a seemingly longer period of time than at other art performances or installations. The child was amazingly animate, bright-eyed and prancing barefoot in his loincloth. He seemed to enjoy the attention of all the viewers and was unaware of the nodding mechanical vulture behind him. Sitting on a bale of hay near him was his mother?/ayi?. She stood out from the crowd, not only as a black woman, but as she was not dressed in long black coats, rather a colorful dress. It was hot. The presence of a naked, black child: unnerving. At the opening, the installation seemed more about the child and the observers crowded in a hot room, rather than the child and the vulture in a desolate, futile environment.
I admit I was unaware of the Sudanese photo controversy when viewing this sight, but I knew it was created by a Chinese artist known for provocative installations. My first reaction was: Is this a commentary on the employment of children in art production? What is the artist/organizer saying about the viewing of art in a gallery space?? For the first time since being in Beijing, I felt like an artist had effectively used his power as an artist to lure viewers into considering greater social questions about morals, ethics, and artistic production. The effect was powerful because it involved the subjugation of a real person. We all know how human labor is used in the arts via artist assistants, can this be considered the same?
From Henri Beniam [Nov. 18]
Was the child naked naked?? He was wearing underwear when I was there.? Also I’m not sure if the mother’s clothing was just a celebratory (opening) outfit or if it was part of the setup.? When I went she was wearing everyday street clothes.
From Katherine Don [Nov. 18]
I just check my pictures, yes, underwear, a shiny metal wrist cuff, and a white necklace. I can’t find a picture of the mother, but I do remember the headpiece. I’m beginning to question myself as a viewer of race where my subconscious bias’ made me use words like “loincloth” and “colorful” and “headpiece”. To me, this work is successful in provoking the viewer, raising questions–is that not how we are to engage with art?
From Katie Grube [Nov. 18]
Henri, perhaps my comment about feeling like the observer and the observed was better expressed by you with your comment about the “self-reflexive effect of the piece.”? However, I found myself acutely self-conscious, in a way that extended far beyond an examination of individuals ethics or of my passive consumption of news media.? The voyeuristic aspect of the work became intensely personal as I digested my own reactions to a black child performing in stereotypically African landscape on seeming show for hundreds to photograph and passive observers.? At the opening, onlookers were as engaged in the viewing of the performance installation inasmuch as they were in observing the reactions of others.?
Kat, I think your question about the use of human labor in artistic creation is a bit misplaced.? I doubt Xu Zhen’s issue or any of the subsequent criticism stems from the ethical use of *human* labor, but rather the use of child labor.? To extend this discussion to the employment of artist assistants is a bit misleading. I don’t think it’s the age old question of the artist’s hand is what renders Xu’s work controversial, rather the use of a child in performance work.? The concern here lies in, as Zoe writes, “To what end does an artist’s intent have the right to inflict a repetitive act on a child’s innocence, powerless to object?”
From Henri Beniam [Nov. 18]
Katie, I like that last line that you quoted from Zoe.? I think it does seem to sum up what I/we were saying.? I also think that while the “artist’s intent” is what’s mostly up for debate, the gallery too must be help appropriate responsible for what it allows its artists to do in the exhibition space.
From Stephanie Tung [Nov. 20]
I did not go to the opening of Xu Zhen’s show, but heard about it afterward. My initial reaction was that it’s completely unethical - how could one use a live child in an art piece? What kind of unequal power dynamics are happening in the staging of this show? WTF?
I finally saw the show last weekend, and like Henri, had a much less visceral reaction than expected. The child was sitting on a haystack with her mother, heartily enjoying a McDonald’s hamburger. Other visitors milled about, but in general you felt like an intruder to a play, pressed to hastily leave. In light of this, experiencing the piece was no different than watching a play with a child actor for me.
What shocked me most, however, were the images that surfaced after the opening - people posing with the child, riding the vulture, cellphones and cameras in abundance. The piece was a complete spectacle.
I couldn’t help but think of Guy Debord’s ‘Society of the Spectacle.’ In it, Debord writes about how social relationships between people in modern society are mediated by images. I think Xu Zhen’s piece illustrates this point beautifully.
The original photograph by Kevin Carter sold as an image commodity to newspapers, media, etc. These images become substitutes for genuine human interaction - the more we see them, the more we become deadened to their realities. After the initial shock, passive, passing identification with the image replaces any real sympathy or critical thought. It strikes me as particularly chilling that the photographer committed suicide months after winning the Pulitzer Prize, specifically referencing this photograph in his note.
In his reiteration of the Carter photo, Xu Zhen encourages the spectacularity of it all. In artforum, he says:
“我对这件作品的作品性感兴趣，复原它是给很多人（包括自己）提问。我希望现场的观众拍照，把照片当作旅游纪念品带回去。这是一件挺残酷的事，也是一件好玩的事。
今天下午开幕时，本来预计会有欧美人士站出来批评的，结果没有。后来那些孩子上去玩，挺好的。”
People did take lots of pictures, and did take them home as souvenirs. Pictures like the one on artforum.com.cn make it seem like the audience is completely deadened to the reality of the source photograph and more entranced by the presence of the child performer. When the artwork is experienced through a cellphone camera, even the most heart-wrenching scenes become cheesy tourist shots.
I’m not sure if it was Xu Zhen’s intention, but this bothers me even more than the child. I feel that many people see 798 as one enormous photo op, and if that’s the case, then the spectacles will only grow more extravagant (see the Dior show, case in point). It frightens me to think of engagement in art relegated to photo-ops with the fantastic and strange. The sparkle of the spectacle blinds critical eyes.
From Honora Shea [Dec. 2]
Sorry for the late response guys. I hope this isn’t too redundant, but I’ve been thinking about this since the opening and it helps to write it all down………….
There are clearly lots of things to say about ‘The Starving of Sudan’. On some level, the installation challenges you to at least a) confront a few social pathologies and b) be honest with yourself. Henri put it well when he said that it implicates the viewer, and Katie when she said that it forces introspection. Its power, as Zoe wrote, is “[in provoking] our own understanding of passive participation.”
I don’t see it as having much to do with poverty in Sudan specifically, at least not as a stand-alone piece. Consider first that Carter’s original photographic image, as Henri also mentioned, conveys the reality of poverty and starvation much more starkly, hauntingly, and believably than Xu Zhen’s performance installation. There isn’t any visceral horror to the work - the child is not actually starving, nor does she convincingly act as such.
What did seem visceral, however, was the underlying fear and suspicion I observed among the audience (including us), that the child and who we assumed was her mother were being objectified. Kat and others already made note of these thoughts. What was a black baby doing being paraded about in the middle of a gallery? Who was she, was this her mother, and is this piece somehow disparaging them so as to turn them into spectacle?
Theater is inherently spectacle, though. It’s just that when theater makes you uncomfortable, it is usually because of the content of the performance, not because you are worrying about who the actors are, where they came from, or why they are there. In this case, though, I worried about all of those things, and then worried about why I was worried in the first place. I didn’t really recognize the performance as theatrics, and had no easy framework for intellectualizing it. (If it wasn’t poverty, why was everyone shocked, specifically? Child labor? A sense of political correctness?)
Perhaps, then, these are all worries that we should normally be raising when we come across a) scenes that shock us or b) works of art, no matter what they are. I think it’s true that we subconsciously allow categories -”theater”, “journalism”, “art” - to color our interpretations. Did Xu Zhen attempt to replicate, even if only on a superficial level, something close to the disturbing feeling that Carter might have experienced when he photographed the scene? He at least produced an unnerving feeling. The question - what’s journalism and what’s voyeurism? - applies to the audience as well as the artist. It might not be journalism anymore if you’re looking at a photo of a starving child in Sudan and not asking who, where, and most importantly, why.
For more reviews:
Lee Ambrozy in Art Review, “Xu Zhen: Impossible is Nothing”
Robin Peckham on spursandfold.com
