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Chinese art critics often call the art of the 1980s and 1990s hou wenge yishu (post-Cultural Revolution art). This term locates the artistic production of this period after 1976 and fixes it in both a thematic and conceptual framework. As with postmodernism — which is only “post” in relation to modernism — “post-cultural revolutionalism” is defined in relation to the Cultural Revolution. One can generally observe a negative fixation on ideology in the Chinese art produc- tion of the 1980s. Hou Hanru has referred to the art of the 1980s in China as an ideology-centric art.1 However, the Cultural Revolution and its guidelines of artistic creation, aesthetic principles and iconography as well as the concept of iconoclasm and a militant critique of the old, is not merely a source of negative fixation for the Chinese artists of the 1980s and 1990s. It is more than a status quo the artists want to overcome. If one considers the utopian aspects of the Cultural Revolution, with its total aestheticization of politics, society, and everyday life, then one can think of the decade as an overall artistic performance (Gesamtkunstwerk) or a social sculpture (in the sense of Joseph Beuys). The images and narratives produced during the Cultural Revolution in China not only had a formative influence on the artists born in the late 1940s and in the 1950s — who constituted the main force of the New Wave Art Figure 1: Xingxing meizhan (First exhibition of the stars) was held on September 27, 1979, in Beijing. Reproduced from Chang Tsong- Movement of the 1980s — but also on a younger zung and Hui Ching-shuen, Xin Xin Shi Nian (The stars, ten years) (Hong Kong: Hanart 2, 1989), 25 generation of artists.
In order to show how Chinese artists have employed and implemented the cultural legacy of the Cultural Revolution during the last two decades, I will be discussing and distinguishing three basic strategies: assimilation, deconstructive strategies, and appropriation. By “assimilation” I am referring to the approach of artists during the late 1970s and early 1980s who automatically employed aesthetic principles and practices of the Cultural Revolution despite their desire to overcome them. “Deconstructive strategies” refers to the position of cultural critique that has been taken up by artists since the mid-1980s including Gu Wenda, Huang Yongping, Wu Shanzhuan, Wang Guangyi, and Xu Bing. Their artistic strategies have been oriented towards a deconstruction of cultural icons and signifiers, including the image of Mao Zedong and the Chinese script (symbol of the political power and main vehicle of political agitation especially during the Cultural Revolution) and show the artists’ distrust in culture as a meaning system. However, their thorough and fearless attacks against imposed cultural structures and patterns reveal their training in Cultural Revolution practices and their conviction that zaofan youli (revolt is reasonable). They combat like with like to free Chinese visual culture from redundancy and propose instead semantic emptiness. Lastly, I use the term “appropriation” to refer to the artistic strategies being practiced in China during the 1990s. Once cultural icons and signifiers were emptied of meaning through the strategy of deconstruction, the artists were free to propose and employ new meanings and readings. The appropriation of the cultural legacy of the Cultural Revolution is one step in the
Figure 2: Itinerary exhibition during the Cultural Revolution, 1967. Reproduced from Wang Mingxian and Yan Shenchen, Xin Zhongguo Meishu tu shi (The art history of the People’s Republic of China) (Beijing: Zhongguo Qingniqn chuban she, 2000), fig. 010 formation of a new cultural self-consciousness of contemporary Chinese artists who, in the 1990s, had to face the challenges of the international art scene and market.
The influence of the Cultural Revolution is evident not only in the works of art themselves but also in the ways in which they were promoted and received. One of the first unofficial exhibitions after the end of the Cultural Revolution was held in Beijing on September 27, 1979, and entitled Xingxing meizhan (First exhibition of the stars). The artworks were hung along the railing of a park located adjacent to the National Gallery in Beijing (fig. 1). While this kind of open-air exhibition may seem unorthodox, the exhibition of prints, posters, and New Year pictures on the streets was very familiar to the artists and their public who were used to exhibitions taking place in work units, schools, and on the streets. (fig. 2) It is important to point out that the works in First Exhibition of the Stars were not presented this way simply because the artists were unable to find another venue. Exhibiting on the street served as an open provocation to the authorities and was the most effective way to reach and move the public.
The dialogue between the public, specialists, and cadres into the process of creation — the so-called san jiehe (three-unity approach) — was a working method recommended during the Cultural Revolution that was still in practice during the 1980s.2 Well-known examples of this approach are the paintings by Luo Zhongli and Wang Guangyi. Luo’s Fuqin (Father, 1979) is a photo-realist portrait of an old farmer from the Dabashan region in Sichuan. The painting was only allowed to be exhibited after the artist added a pen behind the left ear of the farmer at the request of Li Shaoyan, the Vice-Chairman of the Chinese Artists’ Association and Vice-Minister of the Propaganda Committee of Sichuan. The farmers of Sichuan Province enthusiastically discussed the painting and their statements were published in the official art magazine Meishu (Art).3 Wang’s Mao Zedong — Black Grid (1988) was intended to be the sensation of the China/Avant-Garde exhibition that took place in February 1989 in Beijing. Indeed, it is a sensation that this series of three standard portraits of Mao-whose face is visible behind a black grid-was actually exhibited. However, Wang had to retouch parts of the work in order to obtain the permission to exhibit. He had to change the letters A and O written in white in the corners of the canvas since their meaning was deemed unclear. Officials claimed that one could think of a current joke with the title “I am not AQ, I am AO.” Thus, Wang added some black paint and turned the O into a C. Moreover, he was obliged to write a short text in Chinese and English that stated his respect for Mao Zedong. This statement was hung next to the painting. The public’s discussions of the meaning of the black grid were published in the official art magazines in China.
Two more aspects of the artistic practices of the Cultural Revolution adopted by the artists during the 1980s should be mentioned: mass movement and iconoclasm. The Xinchao meishu yundong (New Wave Art Movement) or Bawu meishu yundong (‘85 Movement) of the 1980s constituted a mass movement that was sustained by many regional artist groups. Art magazines like Meishu
(Art), Zhongguo meishu bao (Fine arts in China), and Jiangsu huakan (Jiangsu pictorial) built up a nationwide network that promoted and supplied information about this alternative art through their reports and the organization of nation-wide conferences. The desire to act as a more or less consistent movement is best Figure 3: Red Guards burning an inscription of the Confucius Temple in Qufu, 1966. Reproduced from Wang Mingxian and Yan Shenchen, Xin Zhongguo exemplified by the emblem on the banner of Meishu tu shi (The art history of the People’s Republic of China) (Beijing: Zhongguo Qingnian chuban she, 2000), fig. 002 the China/Avant-Garde exhibition as well as by the presentation of the exhibition. The exhibi- tion was partly organized by the newspaper Fine Arts in China and was the long-term planned summit of the New Wave. On the opening day, the organizers decorated the exterior of the National Gallery in Beijing with black banners on which the emblem “No U-turn” was printed. The artist performances that took place on the opening day exemplify an iconoclastic attitude. Wang Deren threw condoms inside the National Gallery and Xiao Lu fired two pistol shots at her installation Dialogue. Huang Yongping and the Xiamen Dada group showed their project of tear- ing away the National Gallery with a rope. Emblematic of this kind of fearless and radical attitude taken up by the artists of the 1980s is Huang Yongping’s and the Xiamen Dada’s performance entitled Burning Event which took place in November 1986 and involved the artists’ burning their works in the exhibition in front of the New Art Gallery in Xiamen (figs. 3 and 4).
In the following, I will be discussing how aesthetic principles promoted during the Cultural Revolution were assimilated in the paintings produced as part of the so-called Shanghen yishu (Scar art) and xin xieshi zhuyi (New realism) during the late 1970s and early 1980s in China. Cheng Conglin’s oil painting 1968 nian X yue X ri xue (The snow on a certain day in a certain month in 1968, 1979) shows the final scene of a fight between two Red Guard factions in Sichuan Province (fig. 5). Cheng’s painting was inspired by Zheng Yi’s short story “Maple” that was published in China in February 1979.4 The gray tones and the loose painting technique reveal Cheng’s attempt to overcome the style of the Cultural Revolution by going back to an earlier painting style-a style practiced in China during the late 1950s and early 1960s and referred to as “simple revolutionary realism” and “revolutionary romanticism.” Examples of these styles are Qing Zheng’s Jia (Home, 1957) and Wang Shikuo’ drawing Xueyi (Bloody clothes, 1959). For both artists, the Russian models of critical realism were important ones. Similarly, Cheng also turned to these Russian models. Vassili Ivanovich Surikow’s Boyarina Morozova (1884-1887) is a key source of inspiration for Cheng in terms of composition and the creation of dramatic tension is obtained through the contrasting of syntactic (formal) elements, such as contrasting movements and an accentuated contrast of dark and bright areas.5 Moreover, tension is also created through the stylization of the protagonists and the exaggeration of their facial expressions and gestures. Cheng’s stylization, however, goes further than his Russian model in that his characters closely resemble the fierce heroes of the Cultural Revolution. This is evident if we compare the female protagonist in his painting to a still image of the heroine, Wu Qinghua, from the revolutionary ballet Hongse niangzi jun (Red detachment of women, 1970, fig. 6).
Similar to paintings produced during the Cultural Revolution is Cheng’s contrasting of specific syntactic elements to generate meaning. For instance, the contrast between light and dark zones symbolizes the dialectical tension between positive and negative — here between the two Red Guard factions. The contrast between red and green can be read as the tension between activity
Figure 4: Xiamen Dada, Burning Event. In November 1986, the Xiamen Dada group burned works from their exhibition in front of the New Art Gallery in Xiamen Figure 5: Cheng Conglin, 1968 nian X yue X ri xue (Snow on a certain day in a certain month in 1968), 1979, oil on canvas, 196 x 296 cm. Collection of the National Gallery Beijing. Courtesy of the artist and passivity. Furthermore, the contrast between orange and blue can be associated with a contrast of warmth and coolness. These visual contrasts and their associations work to symboli- cally position each of the figures in the painting. The losers are represented wearing blue clothing that is torn to pieces. Thus, they occupy the passive position in the painting. The winners, on the other hand, are wearing green uniforms, warm coats and red, orange, and brown garments. The frightening and sinister atmosphere of the scene is highlighted by the abnormal climatic phenomenon of snowfall in the hot province of Sichuan.
Similarly, in Fuqin (Father), Luo Zhongli employs the use of light to generate meaning. He illuminates the old and emaciated face of a farmer in a white and gleaming light. This light makes the old man sweat yet it is the same light that makes the plants grow; it stands for the farmer’s difficult life as well as for his endurance. Here, as with paintings produced during the Cultural Revolution, light is used to emphasize the message of the representation and to characterize the inner attitude of the protagonist. Luo’s representation of light can be compared to a painting produced during the Cultural Revolution by Shang Ding. In Lianxu zuozhan (Fighting without respite, ca. 1974),
Figure 6: Still from the revolutionary a young PLA soldier is represented writing a critique of Lin Biao ballet Hongse niangzi jun (The red detachment of women). and Confucius. A package of dynamite rests on his lap and serves as Reproduced from Le détachement féminin rouge (Beijing: Waiwen chuban- his desk. The bright sunlight enhances the soldier’s fierce and she, 1973), 78 enthusiastic attitude.
In another painting by Luo Zhongli, the symbolic use of light is even more evident. In Chuncan (Spring silkworms, 1980) an old woman is represented feeding silkworms (fig. 7). Only her white silk-like hair and her hands are visible. Her hair seems to be the only source of light in the paint- ing. This light is white and is the colour of death. Again, light enhances the message of the paint- ing that alludes to a verse often used by Chinese propaganda: Chuncan dao si si fang jin (Just when it dies the spring silkworm has used all the silk). Similarly, in Gao Quan’s Luhuo zheng hong (The furnace flames are red right now, 1964) the red light seems to emanate from the copy of Mao’s writings that an army cook is holding in his hands (fig. 8). The light stands for the right ideologi- cal attitude; it is the hot source of his revolutionary enthusiasm.6
The slogan guannian gengxin (conceptual innovation), which was formulated by Chinese art critics after the Anti-Spiritual Pollution campaign in 1983, refers to the search for innovation in artistic language. In addition, it was considered a means to reconstruct a new culture based on the freedom of expression. The end of the Anti-Spiritual Pollution campaign — which had targeted early humanist Marxism — was widely understood as an opening up of the possibility to revive and deepen the former questions of alienation and humanism. The Party’s modernization program and the new liberal atmosphere in China created a climate of unmitigated optimism where intellectuals and artists could participate by formulating utopian visions of a Chinese modernity. This attitude was called renwen reqing (humanist enthusiasm). Most Figure 7: Luo Zhongli, Chuncan (Spring of the artists neither doubted the official definition of modernity silkworms), 1981, oil on canvas, 241 x 141cm. Courtesy of the artist nor questioned humanist enthusiasm. However, some artists — especially those belonging to the first and second generation of graduates of the Chinese Fine Arts Academy in Hangzhou — looked for ways to overcome modernist tendencies and humanist enthusiasm. Their critique was aimed at cultural icons. Artists like Xiamen Dada, Huang Yongping, and Wang Guangyi focussed on culture as a product of the process of creation. Others, such as Wu Shanzhuan, Gu Wenda, and Xu Bing, concentrated on the Chinese script. Common to these different approaches was the fact that the artists sought to subvert or overcome latent cultural patterns and tushi (schemata) that they saw operating in China.7 To them, these patterns and schemata were the main reason behind the restriction of thought and expression.
The critique of the Chinese script was a particularly effective means to deconstruct prevailing cultural patterns and schemata. The revision, simplification, and distortion of language are a common practice in political campaigns — the Cultural Revolution being the most recent and most violent one. The dazibao (big character posters) produced during the Cultural Revolution are one example of the ways in which the Chinese script was utilized to propagate certain political views and
Figure 8: Gao Quan, Luhuo zheng hong (The slogans. Hence, the dazibao was an important reference point furnace flames are red right now), ca. 1964, oil on canvas. Reproduced from E.J. Laing, The for the disrespectful artists working in the 1980s and 1990s. Winking Owl: Art in the People’s Republic of China (Berkeley, Los Angeles, London: University The Chinese script is deconstructed in various ways in dazibao: of California Press, 1988), fig. 9. characters are misspelled or simplified, words are scribbled out and turned upside down to express disapproval, important or dramatic passages are underlined, signs are crossed out (often in red) which signified the political disgrace of a person.8
In his installation Hongse youmo – chi zi (Red humor – red characters, 1987), Wu Shanzhuan recreates a scene depicting the omnipresence of written political slogans and big character posters by choosing the distribution of colour in three-coloured prints, posters and slogans from the Cultural Revolution (fig. 9). Wu’s slogans, however, are a nonsense medley of captions from classical poetry, political slogans, and price notices, which the artists chose at random. Thus, his installation is an acid mockery of the overwhelming presence of text in Chinese society. The juxtaposition of incoherent sentences and texts works to further generate the semantic emptiness of the text. Of particular interest are Wu’s allusions not only to the Cultural Revolution but also to
Pop Art and Dadaism. If we reconsider the culture of the Cultural Revolution as an overall aestheticization of political and social life, and Pop Art and Dada as the quest to lead art back into life, then we not only have to consider Wu Shanzhuan’s artistic approach an original Chinese answer to modern Western art. We also have to acknowledge that the legacy of the Cultural Revolution is one of the main factors in the fast and successful development of Figure 9: Wu Shanzhuan, Red Humour – Red Characters, 1986, mixed contemporary Chinese art. media installation. Courtesy of the artist
Gu Wenda is another artist inspired by the disrespectful and radical use of the Chinese characters during the Cultural Revolution. In Jing ze shenling (Wisdom comes from tranquility, 1985-1986), Gu relates this use of Chinese characters to traditional calligraphy and painting (fig. 10). However, by omitting or inverting the order of the strokes, writing the characters like a mirror image, and inserting elements of Chinese landscape painting, Gu creates non-existent, fake characters. His characters are authentic only in their aesthetic appearance; they actually constitute semantically empty patterns. Thus, Gu questions the meaning and relevance of these patterns, particularly in the case of Chinese calligraphy and painting.
Xu Bing’s Tianshu (Book from the sky, 1988-1991) is probably the most radical example of the deconstruc- tion of the Chinese script (fig. 11). In this project, Xu invented imaginary characters employing existing character components. Using his imaginary characters, Wu printed Book from the Sky using the traditional technique of woodblock printing in order to create a canon of semantically empty writings. His creation of semantically empty words is a witty subversion of the most powerful instrument of state Figure 10: Gu Wenda, Wisdom Comes from Tranquility, 1985-86, ideology in China: the written word. installation: ink painting, calligraphy, tapestry. Collection of the China Academy of Arts. Courtesy of the artist
In opposition to the 1980s, the cultural climate of the 1990s in China could be described as a kind of ideological vacuum. The explosive growth of the Chinese market economy in the 1980s resulted in extensive developments in urbanization and the commercialization of all aspects of life. The artists and intellectuals — after the Tian’anmen massacre — left behind humanist enthusiasm and utopian aims. They now faced a rapidly changing social and economic environment where common structures and values had degenerated. To some artists, the answer to this vacuum was cynicism — as evident in the trends of the so-called hooligan culture and the development of Political Pop and Cynical Realism. For others, what emerged out of the void was the question of how to relocate the self in the face of the degradation of old, the ambivalence of new values, and the arbitrariness of pluralism. Furthermore, the influence of the international art market and the taste of an international art public became an increasingly important factor within the Mainland Chinese art scene. The task for the artists was thus double: on the one hand, they had to relocate their position as artists in a market-oriented art scene and, on the other hand, they had to redefine their identity as Chinese artists within a global framework. The appropriation of typical Chinese imagery seemed to be one appropriate strategy.
In the early 1990s, the painting styles of Political Pop and Cynical Realism tended to appropriate imagery stemming mainly from the Cultural Revolution. The image of Mao Figure 11: Detail of Xu Bing, Book from the Sky, 1988-91, was popular and the “Mao Craze” of the early 1990s woodblock print. Courtesy of the artist further enhanced this approach. Well-received by the international art public, these aesthetic tendencies influenced the inner Chinese art scene and played an important role in the commercialization of Chinese art. Typical for paintings in the style of the Political Pop is the collage-like combination of syntactic elements of Pop Art (bright flat colours), New Year paintings (black or grey outlines and the repetition of decorative elements), and imagery from the Cultural Revolution. This scheme is visible in paintings like Mao Zedong at Tian’anmen (1990) by Yu Youhan, Wang Guangyi’s Da pipan (The great criticism, 1993), and the Luo Brothers’ Welcome to the World’s Famous Brand Series (1997, fig. 12). The artists here also insert images of the new consumer society like, for example, tins of Coca Cola. The juxtaposition with Liu Wenxi’s Xinfu qu (The canal of happiness, 1968) and a photo of the first train that crossed the Nanjing Bridge in 1968 serves to illustrate the sources of inspiration for these paintings: the art and everyday life of the Cultural Revolution (fig. 13).
The appropriation of heroic images from the Cultural Revolution has also occurred at a conceptual level throughout the last two decades. In 1999, Yang Jiechang “re-created” a hero of the People’s Republic of China, Dong Cunrui, who was very popular during the Cultural Revolution and also a prolific figure in Chinese schoolbooks and comic books during the mid-1990s (fig. 14). Yang presents this hero in an installation where the constant repetition of the hero’s image recalls its function within the organization of a collective consciousness. The artist uses different media to re-create the image of the hero, including a Figure 12: Luo Brothers, Welcome World’s sculpture, a slow-motion film, photographs, and a picture book. Famous Brands, 1996, lacquer on wood The sculptural element consists of a replica of Rodchenko’s Workers’ Club (1925) in which the reader is inevitably subjected to “ideological reading.”9 In the picture book, the same photograph of Dong is displayed on each page. He is represented holding a satchel charge but his features are blurred. By copying and recopying copies of the reprinted storybook, Yang wipes out Dong’s distinct features and presents him in his most essential form: as an archetype created by socialist propaganda.
The repetitive use of Cultural Revolution imagery — especially the image of Mao Zedong — can also be seen a strategy to re-appropriate history. Yan Peiming, for example, repeatedly paints blurred and bold portraits of Mao (fig. 15). The constant repetition of the political leader’s features not only represents an appropriation of the artist’s personal history but also hints at the crucial role of Mao’s image in the collective memory of the Chinese people.
Figure 13: The first train that The legacy of the Chinese Cultural Revolution is not only a Chinese legacy. crossed the Nanjing Bridge in 1968. Reproduced from Wang Mingxian The utopia of a Cultural Revolution also haunted the Western intellectuals and Yan Shanchen, Xin Zhongguo Meishu tu shi (The Art History of the in the 1960s. A dream of Swiss curator Harald Szeemann was to exhibit People’s Republic of China) (Beijing: Zhongguo Qingnian chuban she, the famous early Cultural Revolution ensemble of sculptures known as 2000), fig. 291
Shou zhu yuan (Rent collection courtyard) in a Western museum. However, Szeemann’s dream was not realized until he invited Cai Guoqiang to participate in the 48th Venice Biennale in 1999. Cai “imported” his Venice’s Rent Collection Courtyard for Szeemann. He organized a crew of Chinese sculptors — including one who had worked on the original
Rent Collection Courtyard — to recreate the piece for the Figure 14: Detail of Yang Jiechang, Recreate Dong Cunrui, 1999, multimedia installation and video still. Biennale (fig. 16) Cai’s strategy of appropriation is as Courtesy of Cherng Piin Gallery, Taiwan deconstructive as the distorted characters of Gu Wenda or Xu Bing. His decision to recreate this masterpiece of Socialist Realist sculpture — of which replicas were exhibited all over China in the 1960s and that probably had (except for the Mona Lisa) the largest public in the world — can be seen as a reaction to the craze for Chinese contemporary art in the West. The 48th Venice Biennale showed nearly thirty contemporary Chinese artists. The standard for their selection was, of course, set by the criteria of a Western institution and a Western audience. One of the criteria is often authenticity, which means that only a Chinese artist living in China is an authentic Chinese artist. Another criterion is the presumed success on the art market. To show Rent Collection Courtyard — the epitome of the Chinese socialist utopia-at such a highly profiled venue for contemporary art can be seen as an open provocation to the international art public.
Cai further questions the relevance of the meaning of a work of art, once it is transferred into another cultural, social, and political context. The fragility of meaning and relevance is mirrored in the delicate material of dry clay; the sculptures will disintegrate even before the re-creation of the entire ensemble is finished.10 Cultural images and epitomes thus appear as mere clichés, their appropriation as a witty strategy. This aspect is highlighted by the responses to Cai’s Rent Collection Courtyard: he won one of the Figure 15: Yan Peiming, Col Rouge, 1987, oil on canvas. Courtesy of the artist three international prizes of the Venice Biennale. The Fine Arts Academy of Sichuan accused Cai Guoqiang of spiritual plagiarism and of violation of spiritual property. For the international art world, to award this prize to Cai and his Venice’s Rent Collection Courtyard was another move in the process of globalization. For the Fine Arts Academy of Sichuan and the growing nationalist tendencies in China, the fact that this prize-one of the most prestigious in the Western art world-was given to a non-authorized copy of a masterwork of Chinese socialist art was simply an act of Western colonialism. Rent Collection Courtyard not only proves Cai’s sense of witty strategy but also the disrespectful and subversive attitude of a Red Guard, who is convinced that a critique of, and the revolt against, institutionalized thought and practice are reasonable.
As Zhang Xudong and Arif Dirlik have suggested, Chinese post-modernity should “be grasped not only in relation to modernity in general but also in relation to a revolutionary modernity,” since Chinese society also experienced modernity as the history of revolution.11 The legacy of the Cultural Revolution and China’s revolutionary past is, at least for contemporary artists, neither obsolete nor irrelevant. It is deeply embedded in the Chinese social and cultural consciousness. The aesthetic guidelines and practices promoted and the images that were produced during the Cultural Revolution can, in part, provide contemporary culture in China with potential for
Figure 16: Cai Guoqiang, Venice’s Rent Collection Courtyard, at the 48th Venice Biennale, 1999. Photo: Shengtian Zheng critique. The assimilation of creative methods of the Cultural Revolution in the artistic production of the early 1980s was one way of coming to terms with and digesting an all-too-recent past. The deconstructive strategies of the mid-1980s were a means not only to overcome Chinese artistic patterns but also Western modernism. Finally, the appropriation of imagery from the Cultural Revolution during the 1990s can be read as the quest to relocate Chinese post-modern art and culture.
Notes 1 See Hou Hanru, “Towards an ‘Un-Unofficial’ Art: De-ideologicalisation of China’s Contemporary Art in the 1990s,” Third Text 34 (spring 1996): 37-52. 2 The “three-unity approach” was used particularly at the beginning of the 1980s. 3 Lu Peng and Yi Dan, Zhongguo xiandai yishu shi 1979-1989 (Hunan: Meishu chubanshe, 1992), 48. 4 I will not be discussing the narrative components of “Maple.” 5 Gao Minglu, Zhongguo dangdai meishu shi 1985-1986 (A history of contemporary Chinese art, 1985-1986) (Shanghai: Shanghai renmin chubanshe, 1991), 25. 6 See Martina Köppel-Yang, Semiotic Warfare. The Chinese Avant-Garde, 1979-1989 (Hong Kong: Timezone 8, forthcoming). 7 The concept of cultural schemata is influenced by the reception of Herbert Gombrich. 8 See Francesca Dal Lago, “Images, Words, and Violence: Cultural Revolutionary Influences on Chinese Avant-Garde Art,” Chinese-art.com 3, no. 4 (2000). On-line magazine available at