Sunday, January 3, 2010

Cai Guo-Qiang

If we have ever talked about the type of art I like, I have probably said Asian art is inferior to Western art. Asian art, to me, is inferior because Asian artists lack individuality. Chinese paintings (you know those ink, scroll paintings) all look the same; they all seem to be painted by the same person or produced from a factory. In a way, Chinese paintings are like the manuscripts of the Middle Ages. The only Asian artist that I can name off the top of my head is probably Hiroshige who I know from studying Western art.

Last week, however, I was pleasantly surprised when I visited the Taipei Fine Arts Museum. They are currently exhibiting the work of Cai Guo-Qiang who I had never heard, but should have, before last week. Cai Guo-Qiang has exhibited at the Solomon Guggenheim, Tate Modern, Sackler Gallery, the Met, and won at the Venice Biennale. His large-scale installation works are unusual, provocative, and expressively beautiful. I got the same feeling at Cai's exhibition as when I visited the Saatchi Gallery.

Inopportune: Stage One

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