“They look like birds but they’re actually penises,” is not the sort of thing you expect to overhear in a National Trust property, especially when said by one half of an elderly couple.
The couple in question were admiring Grayson Perry’s High Priestess Cape, an embroidered satin cape based on 18th-century silks but decorated with winged willies instead of the traditional phoenix icon.
It’s on display at Saltram House in Plymouth as part of Sinopticon, a multi-venue exhibition developed by the National Trust’s Trust New Art contemporary art programme in partnership with Plymouth Arts Centre, Plymouth City Museum and Art Gallery and Plymouth College of Art.
Sinopticon – a construct of Sino, meaning China, and optic, meaning ways of seeing – is an exploration of Europe’s relationship with China.
More specifically it examines chinoiserie, a 17th-century French term that describes a European decorative style characterised by the use of fanciful imagery of a utopian China.
Chinoiserie was deemed the height of fashion at the time but is now often considered in contemporary debates about European colonialism, identity politics and power. The racist stereotypes it sometimes depicts still prevail in society today, and are increasingly coming to the fore in light of China’s role as a new economic powerhouse.
Meanwhile, the ongoing trade relationship between the east and the west means that chinoiserie objects now housed in museums and galleries raise questions around authenticity, authorship and value.
Responses to China
Sinopticon explores these issues through the work of 13 contemporary artists who all draw inspiration from chinoiserie.
The displays at the very different participating venues stand independently from each other yet are clearly branded as Sinopticon in the hope, I imagine, that visitors to one venue will be inspired to visit another to see more. There are nice recurrences of themes and artworks throughout.
At the Plymouth College of Art, for example, a futuristic film by Erika Tan exploring China’s ascendance as a global power is itself set in Saltram House, while Tsang Kin-Wah’s easily recognisable vinyl works are on display at three of the four venues.
At Plymouth Arts Centre, his work You Are Extremely Terrified Of Them But You Are Definitely Not A Racist is one of the most confrontational responses to the theme, with racist comments displayed in patterns across an oriental-style wall hanging.
Plymouth City Museum and Art Gallery hosts the largest exhibition out of the four venues. It begins in the foyer and standalone pieces lead visitors up the stairs to the main gallery where they are confronted by Meekyoung Shin’s colourful vases, which cover the floor like giant skittles just waiting to be knocked over and smashed by an enthusiastic child.
The fact they are all hand-made from soap, however, will probably be missed by many people as there are no text panels in the room. Instead, visitors must refer to a printout in order to find out anything about this and other works on display.
This is a failing, as the nature of this exhibition demands some sort of reference points and context. Squinting at wall labels is bad enough, but it’s surely worse to grapple with bits of paper while trying to work out what you’re looking at from the description given.
Vexed issue of authenticity
Next door in the Chinese ceramics gallery, the museum has displayed some responses to the theme of chinoiserie from six ceramic students. Laura Beer’s genetically modified vase, complete with a dismembered finger, sits alongside a suite of blue and white porcelain pieces, while a broken white vase by Mayumi Yamashita spills tiny human figures in a clear nod towards China’s rapidly expanding population.
I like to think these interventions might cause unsuspecting visitors to do a double take, or perhaps be taken at first glance as “authentic”, although sadly large labels declaring them as Sinopticon aliens rather spoils the effect.
Overall, however, I felt this approach of displaying real examples of chinoiserie objects next to artistic responses was more effective than having them in a separate gallery – especially given the difficulties of making contemporary art relevant to traditional museum audiences.
Out of all the locations, Saltram House offers the most potential for the exhibition, with four of its rooms decorated with rare Chinese wallpaper dating from the 17th and 18th centuries.
Sinopticon artworks are dispersed holistically around the house; Perry’s cape is erected in one of the property’s dressing rooms alongside a Jane Austinera dress while Ed Pien’s Bloom, an intricate paper-cut wall hanging, replaces a landscape painting in the stairway hall.
Elsewhere, Shin’s soap vases take over Lord Morley’s Room. Packing crates and covered furniture give the impression that a new shipment of Chinese wares has arrived in the house, a real possibility for its 18th-century owners who kept up with the fashion for chinoiserie.
Some of these interventions work better than others. I completely missed Karen Tam’s fake chinoiserie objects, including porcelain dinnerware fashioned out of papier-mâché.
These are displayed around the house and they raise some interesting questions around the authenticity of the original pieces they are based on as well as the rise of mass-produced and pirated goods from China.
Opium
Across all the venues there are a number of interesting artworks, but overall I felt that the displays failed to fully challenge the social and political implications of chinoiserie and its relationship with colonialism.
Despite intending to look at the darker side of this decorative style, the exhibition is careful not to criticise the original collections in Plymouth City Museum and Art Gallery or Saltram House.
There are some exceptions, most notably Tam’s Opium Den installation at Plymouth City Museum and Art Gallery. Mattresses on the floor, hand-cut screens and Chinese lanterns interrupt the gallery space and invite interaction.
The appearance of a cheap replica perfume bottle, Opium by Yves Saint Laurent, pokes fun at cultural representation but also challenges visitors to recognise these everyday stereotypes. Within a gallery of Chinese artefacts, this is a powerful suggestion but sadly one that is not backed up enough for the people with little experience or knowledge of contemporary art practices.
The scale and ambition of Sinopticon is impressive, and while there are many successes, it left me feeling unsatisfied. Like chinoiserie itself, Sinopticon seems to say more about the west’s attitudes towards the “other” than it does about Chinese psyche and culture today.
The couple in question were admiring Grayson Perry’s High Priestess Cape, an embroidered satin cape based on 18th-century silks but decorated with winged willies instead of the traditional phoenix icon.
It’s on display at Saltram House in Plymouth as part of Sinopticon, a multi-venue exhibition developed by the National Trust’s Trust New Art contemporary art programme in partnership with Plymouth Arts Centre, Plymouth City Museum and Art Gallery and Plymouth College of Art.
Sinopticon – a construct of Sino, meaning China, and optic, meaning ways of seeing – is an exploration of Europe’s relationship with China.
More specifically it examines chinoiserie, a 17th-century French term that describes a European decorative style characterised by the use of fanciful imagery of a utopian China.
Chinoiserie was deemed the height of fashion at the time but is now often considered in contemporary debates about European colonialism, identity politics and power. The racist stereotypes it sometimes depicts still prevail in society today, and are increasingly coming to the fore in light of China’s role as a new economic powerhouse.
Meanwhile, the ongoing trade relationship between the east and the west means that chinoiserie objects now housed in museums and galleries raise questions around authenticity, authorship and value.
Responses to China
Sinopticon explores these issues through the work of 13 contemporary artists who all draw inspiration from chinoiserie.
The displays at the very different participating venues stand independently from each other yet are clearly branded as Sinopticon in the hope, I imagine, that visitors to one venue will be inspired to visit another to see more. There are nice recurrences of themes and artworks throughout.
At the Plymouth College of Art, for example, a futuristic film by Erika Tan exploring China’s ascendance as a global power is itself set in Saltram House, while Tsang Kin-Wah’s easily recognisable vinyl works are on display at three of the four venues.
At Plymouth Arts Centre, his work You Are Extremely Terrified Of Them But You Are Definitely Not A Racist is one of the most confrontational responses to the theme, with racist comments displayed in patterns across an oriental-style wall hanging.
Plymouth City Museum and Art Gallery hosts the largest exhibition out of the four venues. It begins in the foyer and standalone pieces lead visitors up the stairs to the main gallery where they are confronted by Meekyoung Shin’s colourful vases, which cover the floor like giant skittles just waiting to be knocked over and smashed by an enthusiastic child.
The fact they are all hand-made from soap, however, will probably be missed by many people as there are no text panels in the room. Instead, visitors must refer to a printout in order to find out anything about this and other works on display.
This is a failing, as the nature of this exhibition demands some sort of reference points and context. Squinting at wall labels is bad enough, but it’s surely worse to grapple with bits of paper while trying to work out what you’re looking at from the description given.
Vexed issue of authenticity
Next door in the Chinese ceramics gallery, the museum has displayed some responses to the theme of chinoiserie from six ceramic students. Laura Beer’s genetically modified vase, complete with a dismembered finger, sits alongside a suite of blue and white porcelain pieces, while a broken white vase by Mayumi Yamashita spills tiny human figures in a clear nod towards China’s rapidly expanding population.
I like to think these interventions might cause unsuspecting visitors to do a double take, or perhaps be taken at first glance as “authentic”, although sadly large labels declaring them as Sinopticon aliens rather spoils the effect.
Overall, however, I felt this approach of displaying real examples of chinoiserie objects next to artistic responses was more effective than having them in a separate gallery – especially given the difficulties of making contemporary art relevant to traditional museum audiences.
Out of all the locations, Saltram House offers the most potential for the exhibition, with four of its rooms decorated with rare Chinese wallpaper dating from the 17th and 18th centuries.
Sinopticon artworks are dispersed holistically around the house; Perry’s cape is erected in one of the property’s dressing rooms alongside a Jane Austinera dress while Ed Pien’s Bloom, an intricate paper-cut wall hanging, replaces a landscape painting in the stairway hall.
Elsewhere, Shin’s soap vases take over Lord Morley’s Room. Packing crates and covered furniture give the impression that a new shipment of Chinese wares has arrived in the house, a real possibility for its 18th-century owners who kept up with the fashion for chinoiserie.
Some of these interventions work better than others. I completely missed Karen Tam’s fake chinoiserie objects, including porcelain dinnerware fashioned out of papier-mâché.
These are displayed around the house and they raise some interesting questions around the authenticity of the original pieces they are based on as well as the rise of mass-produced and pirated goods from China.
Opium
Across all the venues there are a number of interesting artworks, but overall I felt that the displays failed to fully challenge the social and political implications of chinoiserie and its relationship with colonialism.
Despite intending to look at the darker side of this decorative style, the exhibition is careful not to criticise the original collections in Plymouth City Museum and Art Gallery or Saltram House.
There are some exceptions, most notably Tam’s Opium Den installation at Plymouth City Museum and Art Gallery. Mattresses on the floor, hand-cut screens and Chinese lanterns interrupt the gallery space and invite interaction.
The appearance of a cheap replica perfume bottle, Opium by Yves Saint Laurent, pokes fun at cultural representation but also challenges visitors to recognise these everyday stereotypes. Within a gallery of Chinese artefacts, this is a powerful suggestion but sadly one that is not backed up enough for the people with little experience or knowledge of contemporary art practices.
The scale and ambition of Sinopticon is impressive, and while there are many successes, it left me feeling unsatisfied. Like chinoiserie itself, Sinopticon seems to say more about the west’s attitudes towards the “other” than it does about Chinese psyche and culture today.
Project data
- Cost £88,000
- Funders Arts Council England £43,000; National Trust £21,000, Day+Gluckman, V&A
- Curator Eliza Gluckman
- Exhibitions ends 7 July
