In China when art meets science, censors bring out their scissors

Heather Dewey-Hagborg's video installation about a fictional biohacker was blocked from an art festival in China

Artificial intelligence bots. 3-D printed human organs. Genomic sequencing. These might seem to be natural topics of interest in a country determined to be the world’s leader in science and technology. But in China, where censors are known to take a heavy hand, several artworks that look closely at these breakthroughs have been deemed taboo by local cultural officials.

The works, which raise questions about the social and ethical implications of artificial intelligence and biotechnology, were abruptly pulled last weekend from the coming Guangzhou Triennial on the orders of cultural authorities in the southern Chinese province of Guangdong.

The artists, from Europe, Australia and the United States, were not given an official reason why their works were rejected for the show, which opens on Dec 21 at the Guangdong Museum of Art. The pieces did not touch on the Tiananmen democracy crackdown of 1989, independence for Taiwan or Tibet or the private wealth of Chinese Communist Party leaders — topics that are widely known to be off-limits for public discussion in China.

As a result, some of the show’s curators and the affected artists have been left guessing as to why the works were banned. Their conclusion? The works were perhaps too timely, too relevant and therefore too discomforting for Chinese officials.

“The news is really filled with concern about the gene editing of babies,” said Heather Dewey-Hagborg, an American artist whose work T3511 was among those pulled from the show. “It definitely seems like a moment where I can imagine that art or any kind of content that deals with biotechnological futures and some of the vulnerabilities and the dark side of those futures might seem to be dangerous.”

Dewey-Hagborg was referring to the explosive revelation last month that the Chinese scientist He Jiankui said he had created the world’s first genetically edited babies. Following the announcement, scientists in China and abroad condemned He’s conduct, calling it reckless and unethical.

Against that background, a work like T3511 by Dewey-Hagborg with cinematographer Toshiaki Ozawa would seem to be especially timely. The four-channel video tells the fictional story of a biohacker who becomes obsessed with an anonymous donor whose saliva she purchases online. By analysing the DNA in the saliva and using a genealogy website, the biohacker is able to identify the anonymous donor. According to Dewey-Hagborg, the video is intended to raise questions about biological commodification, privacy and bioethics.

Huang Yaqun, the deputy director of academic affairs at the Guangdong Museum of Art, a state-backed museum and the host of the triennial, said that the decision to cut the works was based in part on their “incompatibility with the Guangdong people’s taste and cultural habits”.

Contrary to the notion of China’s censorship apparatus as an all-powerful monolith, the effort to get an exhibition past cultural officials is often a constant negotiation and balancing act that can depend on factors including which authorities are in charge and what the local situation is. Exhibition organisers are often forced to come up with clever strategies to circumvent or assuage censors by, for example, showing a work without explanatory text or putting age restrictions on access to a show.

Though Angelique Spaninks, the Guangzhou Triennial’s curator, said she was disappointed with the decision to pull the current works, she was hopeful that the remaining pieces in the show, which is titled “As We May Think: Feedforward”, could still trigger debate about the future of science and technology. Assuming no further cuts are made to the show, the exhibition, which runs until March 10, will feature more than 40 artists including Lynn Hershman Leeson, Wang Yuyang and Tega Brain.

Still, Kaayk, who said he had spent months preparing The Modular Body for the show, only to find out at the last minute that it had been banned, said in an email that he felt “very frustrated”. “Isn’t contemporary art meant to raise questions, and start discussions about important subjects in actuality and those of our near future?” he wrote. “What are China’s reasons for organising all these big expensive ‘contemporary art’ manifestations if these questions, the core of contemporary art, freedom of speech, freedom of mind, are ignored and undermined?”

© 2018 The New York Times