New Exhibitions in Wuhan

Installation view, Su Yongjian: Breathing, United Art Museum, 2024. Courtesy United Art Museum, Wuhan.

By HU LINGYUAN January 6, 2025

At the concluded exhibitions held at the United Art Museum in Wuhan, China, a group of Generation Y artists used AI, programming, digital, and other technologies to present their reflections on the integration of new technologies into art, as well as their thoughts on individuals, ecology, and society. The mutual learning between humans and machines highlighted the role of these artists’ creative experiences, especially in the context of creating art with the new technology. Their attitudes toward technology and the distance they maintained from it were fully revealed in their works across different forms. 

To my mind, the interactive exhibition “Su Yongjian: Breathing” on the lower level was the most accessible for engaging a broad audience. Su’s installation works were both playful and evocative, blending a sense of childlike wonder with a subtle unsettling element. Straightforward titles had intriguing contradictions and imagery contrasts, such as “Breathing as Language (2022)” and “You Smell So Good (2022)”--smell was associated with eating, yet the idea of someone being eaten sounded like a thriller joke. In fact, here “smell” was a method for identifying people with whom we wanted to build relationships. Visitors stretched their heads from 3D-printed plates on the white dining table and had perfume sprayed on their shoulders, making them smell as delicious as food. Su visualized the scene of relationships establishing. I went to experience it, but no perfume was dispensed; I speculated either the sensor malfunctioned or it was out of fragrance. 

The concept of bodily experience and perception was evident in Su’s works. In the “Flesh Reflection (2021),” the whole body’s internal and external aspects were engaged. The electronic body, made from diverse materials, amplified human bodily activities such as pulse and heartbreak, turning them into sounds. The synergy between the electronic and the human body reminded me of science fiction films. Humans imbued the electronic body with warmth, while the electronic body made us aware of how to embrace and communicate in the technological era.

Su Yongjian, Flesh Reflection, 2021, Variable dimension, Mixed media (Metal, rubber, hose, electronic components, heat discoloration material, sensors). Courtesy United Art Museum, Wuhan.

“Breathing as Language” transformed breathing into a communicative method--replacing speaking--and enabled people to reconnect in a primitive, animalistic way. It captivated with its large-scale, toy-like appeal. The transparent glass domes rested upon a massive white fabric, which resembled undulating waves. “Oh, go surf!” I joked. In reality, people entered these domes and their breath was detected by sensors and transmitted to antennae above, which swayed and emitted bird-like sounds. Breathing, an ordinary action, prompted us to reflect on the small yet truly crucial things: even the tiniest life forms were linked with us. Taking a deep breath! As we “breathed” here, we should also ponder what had vanished. 

Su Yongjian, Breathing as Language (detail), 2022, Mixed media (microphone & speaker, acrylic helmet, white cloth). Courtesy United Art Museum, Wuhan

In the next gallery, the solo show “Hou Shuai: The Lyrical Poet in the Era of Advanced Virtual Reality” was set in a dark space, displaying a series of works that overlaid photography with digital technology, creating a surreal space. Hou’s images had an undeniable sense of detachment, yet they established a psychological balance between the warmth of reality and the refinement of AI. In “Summer Evening (2024),” for instance, the artist placed himself next to a female with short golden hair, seemingly listening to her speak. The sensation of gazing at them was subtle, as if peering into another world where the two figures traversed time and space. The intervention of technology had not diminished the aesthetics of the images; the works still retained a strong sense of lyric and narrative. Large-scale light boxes illuminated the images, evoking memories and elements reminiscent of masterpieces by artists like Edward Hopper, Kazimir Malevich, and David Hockney.  

Installation view, Hou Shuai: The Lyrical Poet in the Era of Advanced Virtual Reality, UnitedArt Museum, 2024. Courtesy United Art Museum, Wuhan

Hou Shuai, Summer Evening, 2024, 150 x 206cm, Art micro spray. Courtesy United Art Museum, Wuhan
 

In Hou’s video works, the current immaturity in AI and computational traces became a powerful effect in his dynamic visuals. Hou employed AI technology to spark the imagination and leveraged AI’s bug and language to create a psychological impact. “Kodak Girls’ Bedroom (2024),” which occupied three walls to form a semi-circle, engendered a sense of oppression and disquiet in the viewers. A young girl seemed to be in a dream, constant deformation, and at this moment she resembled an alien-like being. The tension between the public and technology was also elucidated. The appearance of the Kodak girl in the image may also have alluded to the concepts and rules surrounding technology. 

Installation view, Hou Shuai, Kodak Girls’ Bedroom, United Art Museum, 2024. Courtesy United Art Museum, Wuhan.
 

It was worth noting that the “Pineal Gland Sashimi” video artworks exchange exhibition, located on the same floor, featured ten young-generation Sino-Japanese artists. This show was also a part of the art museum’s video art exchange program, inspired by MoMA. Embarking on daily life, their works addressed varied issues, such as the identity, gender, social structure and ecology, artistic expression in the digital age, which struck a chord with the emotions of the youth demographic. But the video works on iPad along the corridor walls might have benefited from having their spacing adjusted to enhance the viewing experience.

Taking the elevator to the second floor, the exhibition “Wang Yezi and Yao Mingfeng: Overfitting” felt like a detective investigation, underscoring the extensive research embedded in their works. Both Wang and Yao, postgraduate alumni of The University of the Arts, Philadelphia, harnessed digital technology to craft visual creations that inspired an awareness of the diversity and multiple meanings of objects under different situations and functions. Wang delved into daily objects and explored the relationships between them, while Yao extracted elements from everyday landscapes. For instance, Wang conducted experiments with seasonings in her work, expanding our visual and conventional understanding of these objects. Additionally, her piece “Letters (2018-2019)” used AI to create virtual portraits based on letters from previous tenants, presenting a sense of personalization and intimacy. Reflecting on my experience of living in New York, I had made similar conjectures. Surrounded by AI technology, our imagination and knowing of strangers became more concrete and actionable.

Installation view, Wang Yezi, Letters, United Art Museum, 2024. Courtesy United Art Museum, Wuhan 
 

The interplay between virtual images with reality exposed privacy and security issues while simultaneously highlighting boundary problems. Yao’s virtual ocean works, programmed with the sound of reclaimed land, notably emphasized these boundary issues. Text, sound, and images all served as sources for generating virtual works. As we move towards a future where everything can be input into AI, what kind of image lay ahead? When human imagination faltered, machines might still have preserved it. WM