A visit to the private studio of the controversial artists.
Celebrated for their violent, often sexualised renditions of famous political leaders, the Gao Brothers have been exhibited from Russia to the United States though their art is often kept under wraps in their home country where much of it is produced. A busty ‘Miss Mao’ sporting a long Pinocchio nose, a sculpture installation of several 'dear leaders' preparing to shoot a single Jesus, a voluptuously breasted nude with a red dragon shooting out from between her legs – these are works that have made the brothers as infamous to some as they are respected by others. Often associated with the late ‘80s and early ‘90s political and social trends in Chinese art, they have stuck to a recognisably 'Gao Brothers' style and persisted in their dissection of social and political issues. Brave, creative, controversial, unoriginal – how you see them depends on which end of the kaleidoscope you are looking through.
The brothers are most often referred to collectively. Individually, they are Gao Zhen and Gao Qiang, though it is difficult to see where the creative input of one begins and the other ends. In interviews, as Time Outdiscovered during a visit, they do not describe their individual roles in artistic collaboration in too much detail – although it is also clear they have much in common. ‘We don’t really have many disagreements working together, because we have been doing this for more than 20 years,’ Gao Zhen says. ‘If one of us has got an idea, we sit down and discuss it in terms of things like whether it is necessary to even make the work, how to carry it out and so on. We compare possibilities and ideas, then settle on the best ones,’ Gao Qiang adds. Hailing from Shandong province, they cite their father's forced suicide during the Cultural Revolution as a fundamental influence in forming their shared perceptions of and creative input into art. While Gao Zhen seems to speak for them both, Gao Qiang's attention never strays from the conversation and he frequently nods his agreement.
Aggression and violence is an unavoidable element in much of their work. ‘We don’t intend to promote violence with our work – rather to reflect how others use it,’ Gao Zhen says. ‘It has a strong visual impact on viewers, so that the work will be remembered by them. Our violence points to notions, never at living beings.’
Celebrated for their violent, often sexualised renditions of famous political leaders, the Gao Brothers have been exhibited from Russia to the United States though their art is often kept under wraps in their home country where much of it is produced. A busty ‘Miss Mao’ sporting a long Pinocchio nose, a sculpture installation of several 'dear leaders' preparing to shoot a single Jesus, a voluptuously breasted nude with a red dragon shooting out from between her legs – these are works that have made the brothers as infamous to some as they are respected by others. Often associated with the late ‘80s and early ‘90s political and social trends in Chinese art, they have stuck to a recognisably 'Gao Brothers' style and persisted in their dissection of social and political issues. Brave, creative, controversial, unoriginal – how you see them depends on which end of the kaleidoscope you are looking through.
The brothers are most often referred to collectively. Individually, they are Gao Zhen and Gao Qiang, though it is difficult to see where the creative input of one begins and the other ends. In interviews, as Time Outdiscovered during a visit, they do not describe their individual roles in artistic collaboration in too much detail – although it is also clear they have much in common. ‘We don’t really have many disagreements working together, because we have been doing this for more than 20 years,’ Gao Zhen says. ‘If one of us has got an idea, we sit down and discuss it in terms of things like whether it is necessary to even make the work, how to carry it out and so on. We compare possibilities and ideas, then settle on the best ones,’ Gao Qiang adds. Hailing from Shandong province, they cite their father's forced suicide during the Cultural Revolution as a fundamental influence in forming their shared perceptions of and creative input into art. While Gao Zhen seems to speak for them both, Gao Qiang's attention never strays from the conversation and he frequently nods his agreement.
Aggression and violence is an unavoidable element in much of their work. ‘We don’t intend to promote violence with our work – rather to reflect how others use it,’ Gao Zhen says. ‘It has a strong visual impact on viewers, so that the work will be remembered by them. Our violence points to notions, never at living beings.’
Impact - this is key in understanding the artistic choices the Gao Brothers have made. Sometimes criticised for using obvious faces from history (Lenin, Mao, Sun Yat-sen), the brothers have a clear agenda in making their work instantaneously understood at a certain level. Imagery and historical figures are meant to engage a wide variety of viewers, but on deeper inspection all is not as simple as it seems.
‘The Execution of Christ’ is a case in point. Artistically, they are giving a nod to Manet's politically loaded painting ‘The Execution of Emperor Maximilian’(this painting is in itself a response to Goya's ‘The Third of May 1808’ as well as the politics of its time). However, while they use well-known figures to represent these ideas, the story behind the sculptural installation originates in somebody else's story. ‘The Execution of Christ’ is actually based on the figure Lin Zhao, a Christian poet executed in 1968. The brothers realised during the process of planning the piece that Zhao wasn’t famous enough to get the meaning of the work across so changed her figure to that of Jesus.
As for violence, the piece offers a degree of hope in the human condition. Gao Zhen says that ‘While Jesus is weak, he cannot truly be executed – he will be reborn.’ Gao Qiang agrees. This is their own message, expressed within the realms of art and political history on a global scale.
At the same time, the brothers keep up to date with modern social trends. They check their Weibo and other social internet sites daily, while the role of the media and social issues such as economic disparity also fascinate them. A lot of work uses media imagery or engages with struggling members of society. In a work from 2000 which forms part of their Embrace series of 'occurences', the Gao Brothers encouraged migrant workers to perform while being photographed. They were asked to hug - usually an act of love, greeting or reconciliation. ‘We went to their employers, asking if any of them were interested in a work opportunity,” says Gao Zhen. “We told them it was acting and promised to pay them a fair market price. So they didn't feel the warmth of hugging, they were just there to make some money which turned the whole thing into an employer-employee relationship... This work was intended to demonstrate that a non-utilitarian action like hugging in a materialistic society can become about employment [rather than love and reconciliation].’ The brothers also observed that when the workers discovered some of the hugging action was to be naked, they went on strike and demanded more money. ‘We found it quite interesting, because they were aware of their rights.’
The studio, which also serves as a private exhibition space and small cinema, houses their recent works. Their most recent oil paintings hang on the walls, large scale portraits based on formal photographs or paintings. Sun Yat-sen, a Ming dynasty emperor and more recent political figures stare out, rendered in a way that blows up the effect of newspaper print – diagonal lines cutting up the smoothness of the portraits.
‘Our recent works are divided into two series,’ Gao Zhen explains. ‘One is about significant figures who appear in modern history, such as Sun Yat-sen, Chiang Kai-shek (both were presidents of the Republic of China) and Karl Marx, who brought about deep changes in Chinese society. Besides this we also have interesting western figures like Van Gogh. The second series consists of copies of classic art works from home and abroad.’
One face is a recent example of their engagement with ‘the social reality, the changes that take place every day’ that influences their work. The man, whose eyes are concealed by a pair of dark sunglasses, is the imprisoned, self-taught and blind lawyer Cheng Guangchen. The piece serves as a representation of their artistic process says Gao Zhen. ‘Social realities impact on how and what art we create. On the other hand, we think our work has an impact on society… it also embodies our attitude towards art, and is part of the reason we see no need to mix our artistic styles with widespread artistic changes and trends.’
Before we leave, there is time for a gander around the rest of the studio – a space originally intended to hold exhibitions of their own and other artists' work. Paintings are stacked up against the walls and there is plenty of storage space behind scuffed white curtains, while tall ceilings let in plenty of light. It is also a social space – some sofas and coffee tables are arranged at the main entrance, while in the back hides a small make-shift cinema. Based in Beijing for more than a decade, the brothers are clearly in no hurry to leave.
So what brought them not just to this studio, but to the city? ‘This is the place where we have created and exhibited our work for the past 20 years,” Gao Zhen says. ‘Beijing is an international communication centre. In the first place we worked separately, except that we shared opinions from time to time. In 1989, we co-created a piece of work (‘Midnight Mass’) which caused heated controversy because of its erotic rather than political subject matter. While some people thought we were advertising sexual liberation and trying to be “blasphemous”, we intended is it as a symbol imbued with meanings of sensuality. It was that piece of work that combined us permanently, and we've been working together ever since.’
Clare Pennington
Originally posted in Time Out Beijing
