Pretty Young Things: Yang Fudong’s One Half Of August at Parasol Unit

The Night Man Cometh: Still courtesy of the artist and Galerie Mariane Goodman

It is difficult to know where to begin with Chinese artist Yang Fudong. That is not to suggest his work is unapproachable. It is just that most of his works in this new exhibition involve up to eight HD wall mounted video screens, each projecting a part of a mysterious unfolding narrative film. There appears to be no beginning or end, no clear place with which to enter or leave the story, if you can call it that. You’ll probably quickly stop trying to focus on one screen and spend the rest of the time wandering in a circuit around each exhibition room here in Fudong’s new show, much like the drifting characters in Fudong’s films themselves.

One Half of August is Yang Fudong’s second show at Parasol Unit, following his 2006 No Snow on the Broken Bridge exhibition which introduced him to the UK art scene. Born in 1971 in Beijing and now based in Shanghai, Fudong actually trained as a painter in the China Academy of Fine Arts in Hangzhou and only came to filmmaking seriously in the late 1990s. As with his 2006 show, this is entirely film work and addresses similar themes and conceits with similar tools.

Through the actors he uses in his films, Yang Fudong is concerned with depicting his own generation: young Chinese in their late ‘20s and early ‘30s, confused by a China modernising at dizzying speed and hovering between the past and present. The characters we see on screen in his works are young and (usually) gorgeous to look at, but seem to be either shell-shocked or melancholy, their faces expressionless or downbeat and their movements eerily slow and precise. It is like watching people underwater; what should be dynamism and energy sapped somehow by some unseen lethargy. This atmosphere is enhanced by the use of multiple cameras to film the stories, with it being unclear if all the cameras are running at the same time and shooting the same set. At times you will think you’ve figured out the positioning of the characters and the sequence of events. But such moments of clarity as to how it all might fit together don’t last long.

Fifth Night: Still courtesy of the Artist and Galerie Mariane Goodman

Fudong has three new video works here: Fifth Night, One Half of August and Ye Jiang (The Night Man Cometh). All are technically stunning with sharp crisp HD image clarity that enhances the significance of every glance and gesture, with rich colour palettes and striking compositions. Fifth Night‘s seven synchronized screens show a circular, open ended story set in a square of Shanghai’s old town at night in what seems like the 1930s. Carriages, rickshaws, vintage cars and old suits and hats are on display, but the good-looking characters wandering these streets do little other than plod around looking either bored or stunned. A constant background hammering on an anvil only increases the lulling, hypnotic effect. Are these people even aware of each other? Are they looking for something? Nothing is clear, though it is an immersive, lush and very melancholy experience.

One Half of August is an eight-screen, black-and-white, HD video installation, for which Yang Fudong projects scenes from some of his earlier works onto props, structures and objects such as statues, spiral staircases and walls. The aim of this piece was to pose questions about the experience of watching a film of a film, along with issues of the subconscious, reality and dream. But it is not entirely successful in this and the composition keeps the viewer more at arms length rather than being immersive. Watching a film about Fudong’s films doesn’t seem to carry the same impact.

The Night Man Cometh: Still courtesy of the Artist and Galerie Mariane Goodman

The only single-screen work, Ye Jiang (The Night Man Cometh) takes place in a frozen winter landscape and features an isolated and wounded Chinese warrior from the ancient warlord period musing his destiny via three ghost-like subconscious characters who wander the snow, each seemingly personifying the state of his heart and mind. Again, uncertainty pervades; the warrior seems to swing from enthusiasms to disappointment, hope to despair. There is still no linear narrative to latch onto and it is as hyper-real as the other films, particularly with the exaggerated winter effects and bold costumes straight out of the now ubiquitous Chinese epic martial arts movies.

Undoubtedly some will write off Fudong’s films as stylish, irritating and empty games that could easily slide into becoming commercials for Prada or Chanel. It is easy to imagine sticking a few upmarket handbags into the hands of Fudong’s beautiful cast members. But as an immersive visual and audio experience, strikingly composed and tinged with references to classic film genres, this show should appeal to film as much as art students.