// BLURB //
You know them, you love them, you can’t get enough of them: Baoan, or the friendly Chinese guards posted in front of every Shikumen and in every longtang left standing, have become a staple of Chinese life. In a way, watching them work is like watching a master painter. Their social interactions are like brushstrokes—careful, precise, full of intention and meaning. Like a painter who gets lost in his dreams and observations, a Baoan is never not working. As a protector and a conversationalist, he is always on alert and always ready to offer a premium smoke from a red-pack Chunghwa and share a laugh. In a different way, Baoan are not so different from the process artists of the mid-20th century. Robert Morris writes, “Process Artists were involved in issues attendant to the body, random occurrences, improvisation, and the […] qualities of nontraditional materials such as wax, felt, and latex.” Baoan themselves deal with these same issues. Their bodies, resilient from the four seasons, are thick and sinewy, always covered by a PLA winter coat. Their lives revolve around random occurrences, of people on the street and the words they hear through their Lei Feng hats. Improvisation is practically their first language. As for wax and felt, you’ll have to ask them over a glass of Er Guo Tou baijiu and a game of cards.
You know them, you love them, you can’t get enough of them: Baoan, or the friendly Chinese guards posted in front of every Shikumen and in every longtang left standing, have become a staple of Chinese life. In a way, watching them work is like watching a master painter. Their social interactions are like brushstrokes—careful, precise, full of intention and meaning. Like a painter who gets lost in his dreams and observations, a Baoan is never not working. As a protector and a conversationalist, he is always on alert and always ready to offer a premium smoke from a red-pack Chunghwa and share a laugh. In a different way, Baoan are not so different from the process artists of the mid-20th century. Robert Morris writes, “Process Artists were involved in issues attendant to the body, random occurrences, improvisation, and the […] qualities of nontraditional materials such as wax, felt, and latex.” Baoan themselves deal with these same issues. Their bodies, resilient from the four seasons, are thick and sinewy, always covered by a PLA winter coat. Their lives revolve around random occurrences, of people on the street and the words they hear through their Lei Feng hats. Improvisation is practically their first language. As for wax and felt, you’ll have to ask them over a glass of Er Guo Tou baijiu and a game of cards.
//STATUS//
SOLD. Private collection, Shanghai.
SOLD. Private collection, Shanghai.
//EDITION, MEDIA, SIZE & WEIGHT//
Unique Edition, Shanghai 2019
TFT display, acrylic painting on Plexiglass, media player, teakwood frame
52(W)×52(H)×6.5(D) cm // 11.5 kg
//EXPOSURE//
“Fathers Of My Father” at island6 Shanghai Main Space
Unique Edition, Shanghai 2019
TFT display, acrylic painting on Plexiglass, media player, teakwood frame
52(W)×52(H)×6.5(D) cm // 11.5 kg
//EXPOSURE//
“Fathers Of My Father” at island6 Shanghai Main Space
//CREDITS//
Wang Tie Zhong 王铁中 (painting) • Yeung Sin Ching 杨倩菁 (production supervisor) • Thomas Charvériat (art direction & video) • Iris Gardener (documentation) • Carlin Reinig (blurb)
Wang Tie Zhong 王铁中 (painting) • Yeung Sin Ching 杨倩菁 (production supervisor) • Thomas Charvériat (art direction & video) • Iris Gardener (documentation) • Carlin Reinig (blurb)