The founder of Hong Kong art’s black cube extols sheltering artists from the system and the experimental drug called jet lag.
Mounted in Hong Kong in contrapuntal pairs, an exhibition of photographs beside the artist’s mother’s works finesses the breakages of migration and the limits of familial understanding.
A son of the diaspora went looking for an education in modern Chinese art – and found both a buzzing market and a new feeling of being made whole.
The founder of Peres Projects weighs in on why artists still love Berlin and cherishing art history’s one-hit wonders.
In Vienna, animated allegories of Hong Kong’s political quandaries and the global desensualizations of the internet overflow with sex, puns, and high-speed chaos.
In Vienna, bold figurative paintings by Cathrin Hoffmann, Laurent Proux, and Pieter Schoolwerth render the nightmarish gaps between visceral and virtual realities.
Amid his exhibition at Empty Gallery, Hong Kong, the Japanese bricolage photographer presents art as helping us sit with the discomfort of the unknown.
In Hong Kong, Olivia Shao’s counterpointing of tomb artifacts and works by Kazuo Ohno, Wucius Wong, and others italicizes the Chinese aesthetics written into contemporary art.
Curators Liberty Adrien and Carina Bukuts are transforming the Frankfurt exhibition space founded by Kaspar König into a haven for experimental thinking.
Digitally mutating architectural landmarks into playgrounds of color – see Berlin’s TV tower, Museum Island, and Kulturforum – Rossner’s IRL metaverse pluralization resists the creep of monopoly.
In triptychs of hot-and-heavy bodies, the Hong-Kong-based artist materializes the tensions of synthetic desire and our urges both to gawk and to look away.
Need a foot massage during Art Basel? Spike’s favorite Hongkonger has your spot – and so many tips besides on the city’s best dim sum, speakeasies, and cha chaang tengs.
In Hong Kong, Vunkwan Tam’s works address death, decay, and late-capitalist malaise, but along slippery registers of internet culture, with sly imbrications of irony, hyperbole, and half-truths.
The Austrian collective’s implausible architectural intervention on the World Trade Center’s 91st floor became an eerie memorial to turn-of-the-millennium New York.
Working in nacre-like glass, the ashes of shells, and casts from his own body, a sculptor looks to the pearl oyster for guidance on resisting foreign power in Hong Kong.
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