Shanghai's Art Scene Faces Its Second 30 Years

By Daniel Okafor

Shanghai's art week runs 10-15 November, and its two anchor fairs arrive in a nervous city. Art021 Shanghai (11-14 November) and West Bund Art & Design (10-15 November) will set the mood for a scene sizing up China's property crash, deflation and the end of what one dealer calls the 'golden 15 years'.

The city has 25 million people and, by one veteran's estimate, roughly New York's volume of artistic activity. It is just harder to find. "Shanghai has so many galleries, so many museums, so many eccentric little spaces that you could come in the middle of summer and still see art non-stop," says Lorenz Helbling, the Swiss founder of ShanghArt, one of China's first contemporary galleries, opened in 1996. "You can make a lot of fun things here."

So far, Shanghai's core galleries have largely survived the downturn. What they need now is young artists and new collectors to keep the lights on.

What do the dealers say?

Lise Li, founder of Vanguard Gallery (2004), calls the city "still in an upward phase, just growing much more slowly than before". Her programme during art week is a case study in spread: participation in the second edition of the boutique fair Hangover Shanghai (11-15 November) and Art021, a Tang Chao show in the gallery, and a group collaboration at the artist-run 33ml Offspace.

The buzz of the 2010s has quieted, Li concedes. But "there are quite a few more art institutions, and more newcomers are getting involved. The Number of young artists is increasing rapidly; we see a lot of new faces every year. But most exhibitions are relatively conservative, which is rather a pity."

Otto Neu, co-founder of Nan Ke Gallery (2022), is blunter. The market has "changed considerably". "For artists and galleries alike, it is certainly a challenging moment," he says. "We probably have to work twice as hard as we did before simply to survive and keep things moving."

He cites the Chinese expression "great waves wash away the sand and leave the gold behind". Difficult periods, he argues, "can force an industry to become more focused, more rigorous and perhaps more honest about what really matters". This, he says, may be "an important stage of maturation for Shanghai's art scene". Silver linings, duly noted.

Who else is in town?

The resident infrastructure is deep. Established figures include Ding Yi, Zhang Enli and Yang Fudong. Western galleries Almine Rech, Perrotin and Lisson keep spaces in Shanghai, alongside Japan's Ota Fine Arts and Korea's Arario Gallery. Local heavyweights include Antenna Space, Gallery Vacancy, Capsule Gallery and Don Gallery.

State-backed museums — the Power Station of Art, Museum of Art Pudong and the Centre Pompidou-partnered West Bund Museum — sit alongside private institutions that multiplied after 2010: the Rockbund Art Museum, Long Museum, Yuz Museum, plus Fotografiska, the Museum of Glass and non-profits like Pond Society, Longlati and Prada Rong Zhai.

Li credits Shanghai's "open-city vibe", its collector base and a citizenry curious "about fashion and new things". The downsides: living costs are too high, and art information platforms are scarce even in Chinese.

Why does Shanghai feel different from Beijing?

Neu describes "a healthy sense of distance" — a pragmatic chaos where "business is business, friendship is friendship". Beijing's scene runs on personal connections; Shanghai's keeps them separate. Those divisions, he warns, could become vulnerabilities in the downturn. "This is perhaps precisely the moment when Shanghai's art community needs to become a little more connected and cohesive than it has been in the past," he says.

Helbling likens the community to the city's compact geography: circles that interact, within easy reach of each other.

Collector Cherry Xu, who opened her art-meets-fashion space Cheruby last year, prizes the crossover. "Art here doesn't operate as an isolated system; it is constantly in conversation with design, music, fashion, technology and a broader youth culture," she says. Cheruby shows a solo exhibition by Thai multidisciplinary artist Tanat Teeradakorn during art week. Regional growth, she adds, makes it natural to look to Tokyo, Seoul, Hong Kong, Singapore and Bangkok rather than treating Europe and the US as the only references.

Neu agrees that rising scenes in Chengdu, Shenzhen, Nanjing, Hangzhou and Suzhou are "something very positive for Shanghai rather than a threat".

What comes after the first 30 years?

Helbling splits the timeline cleanly. The Shanghai Biennale internationalised in 2000; SH Contemporary ran 2007-14; galleries and museums flowered. Then came Covid. "There was from the 1990s when Shanghai opened up until the Covid time, and there is after Covid time," he says. "The first 30 years, and now the second 30 years."

He now cultivates rising talents through group shows and dialogue. Dual-culture artists, educated in China and the West, have resumed their cross-regional travels. "They have an interesting job to do to figure out what kind of art makes sense today," Helbling says. The loneliness of the 1990s avant-garde, he notes, is now impossible given contemporary art's citywide popularity.

Whether the second 30 years match the first depends on young collectors appearing faster than the sand washes away.