柯泰伦斯 Terence Koh
柯泰伦斯的雕塑天生就带有古怪的青年文化和奢华的颓废。作品 These Decades that We Never Sleep, Black Drums 是一件妄想的物体，极具纵欲的吸引力，它那乌木卷拖动着诱惑，形成可见的声波回音。……Black Drums 以其黝黑的深度，形成一种暗示性的空虚：记忆与幻想的空虚，描绘了艺术史、哥特式亚文化群、以及恋物设备的内涵。柯泰伦斯的雕塑利用布、金属和塑料作为原材料，作品富有手感，反映了对物质欲望的向往和失落。These Decades that We Never Sleep, Black Drums
2004
drum kit, paint, ropes from a ship found after midnight, black wax, plaster, vegetable matter, crushed insect parts, artist's blood and cum
Stool, 50 x 30cm
100 x 163 x 100cm
作品名：这几十年我们从未睡着,黑鼓
年代：2004年
材料：鼓桶，油漆，船只在午夜栓在岸上用的绳索，黑蜡，石膏，植物作料，粘碎的昆虫，艺术家本人的血，尺寸：椅子：50*30CM，
其他100*163*100CM 柯泰伦斯的作品 These Decades that We Never Sleep, Black Light 选用了闺房树枝状挂灯的形式，以诱人的期望悬挂在那里；沉重的吊灯摇晃不定，既危险又有趣，华丽的水晶和珠宝挂件沉甸甸地下垂着。雕塑并非用作照明，它死气沉沉的黑色表面暗示的是毁灭。作品表现了黑暗的浪漫精神，充满了理解与可能性，在快乐和痛苦、渴望与死亡之间徘徊不定。
These Decades that We Never Sleep, Black Light
2004
crystal chandelier, paint, lollipops, vegetable matter, human and horse hair, mineral oil, rope from a ship found after midnight, glass shards, stones and artist's blood and shit
190 x 72 cm
作品名：这几十年里我们从未睡着，黑灯
年代：2004年
材料：水晶装饰吊灯，油漆，棒棒糖，植物性作物，人和马的毛发，矿物油，午夜靠岸用的船只绳索，玻璃碎片，石头，艺术家本人的血和大便
尺寸：190 x 72 cm 柯泰伦斯 的作品 Do no doubt the dangerous of my butterfly song 是一个魅惑的模型。拼装作品被放置于玻璃盒内，还配有音乐，作品散发着一种精致巧妙的气质，珍藏的是个人的短暂和奇怪的意义。毛发、尘土和一只蝴蝶组成一个脆弱的布局，它们短暂的性质暗示着脆弱、失落及暴力的故事。形式主义与深刻的私密结合在一起，作品传达了一种宁静的约束，暗示的是个人存在的结构化孤立以及人类体验的脆弱性。
Do not doubt the dangerousness of my butterfly song, black
2004
Custom metal vitrine, speakers, ipod, song with artist singing in his own private language, paint, Indian hair, male battus philenor butterfly and blackend ash from a gingko tree
155 x 46 x 114cm
作品名称：不要怀疑我蝴蝶的歌声的危险，黑
年代：2004年
定制的金属玻璃柜，扬声器，ipod，用艺术家本人自己的语言唱的歌，油漆，印地安人的头发，雄性的battus philenor蝴蝶，以及发黑的银杏树的灰烬
尺寸：155 x 46 x 114cm
点击图片看大图 在霓虹的光辉下报晓，柯泰伦斯 的作品 Big White Cock 正如其标题所述！创作的这个电子照明标志暗指后街性用品商店和大桶鸡舍，跳动着的标志作为高感设计图标，散发着贫民区艺术的魅力。柯泰伦斯提出了有关种族、性别和性欲方面的问题，他将亚文化群的密码语言转变成具有双重性的恋物性标志。从性的角度来说，“鸡”可能指的是青少年同性恋，或者是中国的妓女，但是有时候，"cock" 指的就是公鸡而已
Big White Cock
2006
sculpture, white neon, wires
132.1 x121.9 cm
作品名：白色的大公鸡
年代：2006年
材料：雕塑，白色的霓虹，电线
尺寸：132.1 x121.9 cm 柯泰伦斯的作品 Cokehead 是一件赫耳墨斯的半胸像雕塑，赫耳墨斯是希腊神话中掌管旅行的神，也是引领灵魂前往死亡之地的引导者。作为对可卡因晶体的诱惑的复制，雕塑的外表用冰晶和白糖覆盖，这是一种带有隐喻性质的表面，代表着甜美、诱惑和沉溺。陈列在玻璃橱窗内的 Cokehead 代表快感的废墟，这种快感是受到禁止的，女神般的外形装于渐被侵蚀的粉末基座之上，暗示着性诱惑和不朽的力量。
Cokehead
2006
sculpture, plaster cast of Hermes the god covered in diamond dust and sugar and paint, enclosed in glass vitrine
60 x 35 x 35 cm
作品名：可卡因瘾君子
年代：2006
材料：雕塑，旅行之神赫耳墨斯的铸石膏像，用晶体的粉末和白糖覆盖，颜料，雕塑被放置在闭合的玻璃柜中
尺寸：60 x 35 x 35 cm 柯泰伦斯的作品 Medusa 是在画廊白色立方体中的白色立方体，外观精美而令人敬畏。但是，穿过这个构造的门，暴露的是一个不道德的厕所，一个真正的欲望厕所。肮脏的黑色、成排的男根高举的宗教雕像，还有邪恶的管道装置，创作的便池既是小便池，又是一间忏悔室，乌黑的橱柜中，诱惑与超越得到了愉快地满足。
Untitled (Medusa)
2006
Mixed media sculpture, wood, paint, plaster, urinal, steel, porcelain, mirror, glue, bonding paste, ashes, oil, burnt wood, light, wiring and artists piss
235 x 107 x 107 cm
作品名：无题（美杜莎）
年代：2006
材料：综合媒材雕塑，木头，油漆，石膏，小便池，钢，瓷器，镜子，黏胶，黏土，灰烬，油脂，燃烧后的木头，灯，配线，和艺术家的尿
尺寸：235 x 107 x 107 cm 柯泰伦斯的 Untitled (C45) 将绘画重新设计为私密的最终表现。通过对 安迪。沃霍尔的小解处画作以及 De Kooning 极端描绘的性符号的回想，他为他的油画注入了 S&M 爱好者的激情。Untitled (C45) 上的野蛮的针孔以及泼洒的啤酒和小便，使作品带有卑鄙和觉醒的标志。在此受虐的图形中，Untitled (C45) 凸显了令人不安的美感，将残酷与诱惑融为一体。
Untitled (C45)
2006
Mixed media, wood panel, paint, Colt 45 beer, artist's piss
457.2 x 203.2 cm
作品名：无题(C45)
年代：2006
材料：综合媒材，木板，油漆，Colt 45啤酒，艺术家本人的尿
尺寸：457.2 x 203.2 cm Crackhead [color=Blue][size=5]
[/size][/color]2006
Mixed media - 222 heads of plaster, paint, wax, fire, charcoal inside 222 glass vitrines
Dimensions vary with installation
作品名:破碎的头
年代:2006
材料:综合媒材---222个石膏头像,颜料,蜡,火,木炭,分别堆积在222个玻璃柜中
尺寸:变化不一
[color=Red][size=4]点几图片看大图片[/size][/color] Untitled (Vitrines 5 - Secret Secrets)
2006
Mixed media sculpture - 230 vitrines
Dimensions vary with installation
作品名:无题(玻璃橱窗系列 5---不为人知的秘密们)
年代:2006
材料:综合媒材雕塑--230个玻璃橱
尺寸:变化不一
[color=Red][size=4]点几图片查看大图片[/size][/color] 1977年在北京出生、加拿大长大、现居纽约(工作室在曼哈坦坚尼路上)的柯泰伦斯,是当下风头十足的前卫艺术界的「It Boy」，他在全世界各地展览、他的作品售价达六位数字，他的名字总是和最重要的画廊和收藏家连在一起。现在惠特尼美术馆更给了他一个年轻艺术家最重要的肯定--美国博物馆首次个展。
柯泰伦斯的崛起，充分说明了当代艺术市场热钱滚滚的盛况。仅仅在三年前，柯泰伦斯都还名不见经传，唯一可称得上的艺术贡献是一个网站asianpunkboy.com。但是，到了2006年，他在全球最重要的当代艺术展瑞士的Art Basel上的装置艺术，成为最被口耳相传的展出。然后，英国专以炒作前卫艺术市场著称的画廊经理Charles Saatchi也开始收藏他的作品。突然间，柯泰伦斯成了炙手可热的人物，据说北京奥运也已委请他做装置艺术。
柯泰伦斯的身上，包含了许多当代艺术最看重的特质：多元文化、同志、四海为家，他也毫不讳言他对名利的追求，因此很适合当今这个「收藏即投资、投资靠收藏」的艺术市场。他在Art Basel的作品，据说售价高达50万元，然而收藏家花了大钱买下的，是玻璃柜里摆的一块块号称是外包了金箔的艺术家本人的排泄物。
柯泰伦斯的艺术，向来有很强的自恋性。他的媒材，包括他的身体排泄物，因此纽约杂志的文章标题是「柯泰伦斯的精子值10万元吗？」偏偏在这个求新求怪求极端的艺术市场，就是有人愿意花大钱买下艺术价值和保存期限都不确定的作品，只盼押对了宝，很快就一本万利。
柯泰伦斯在惠特尼的展览，还没有走到这个极端，然而一样叫人目眩。惠特尼一楼电梯旁的Anne & Joel Ehrenkranz展厅里，打出四千瓦的强光，戴了太阳眼镜的警卫随时提醒参观者，不可走近，更不可直接对著光源看。如果避开光，在展厅外两侧的角落斜著看，可以看到灯是架在一个三脚架上，展厅内六面墙，都漆成白色(柯泰伦斯的招牌颜色)。
美术馆的策展人说，这个作品显示柯泰伦斯艺术观「极简主义和巴洛克的两个面向互争长短，一种不可知的仪式似乎将要发生，失落感同时暗示著再生。」其它的艺评提出的解释，包括对镁光灯造成的名流文化的批评、嘲讽艺术市场的表面热闹等。
然而，艺评也都指出，这个作品似乎和其所嘲讽的对象无分轩轾，同样是有名无实。纽约时报称赞柯泰伦斯很有天才，也有活泼的想象力，但「不会在这个作品里看出来。」
柯泰伦斯在接受纽约杂志的专访时承认，在惠特尼展览，所有人都在看，「如果我失败了，是盛大地失败在整个艺术世界的面前。但是这反而减轻了我的压力，因为不管成功或失败，这个火花都会很美丽。」 [color=Red][size=5] 柯泰伦斯的精子值10万美元吗 英语原文 翻译稍后![/size][/color]
[size=4][b]Is Terence Koh’s Sperm Worth $100,000?[/b]
Portrait of the artist as a young punk capitalist.
By Marc Spiegler [/size]
(Photo: Joseph Maida)
Terence Koh’s artistic coming-out hardly seemed auspicious. It was May 2003. Collector Javier Peres had recently scrapped his international-law career to open Peres Projects gallery. He offered its opening show in Los Angeles to Koh, a young New York artist then known as asianpunkboy, whose track record consisted of little more than a perverse and freewheeling Website and a few ’zinelike books. As art openings go, it proved to be bizarre. Artist–designer–gay icon Ryan McGinley played D.J., and there was no art in the gallery itself. Through a hole in its floor you entered the basement, which Koh had transformed into an all-white space inhabited by two albino parakeets. “The Los Angeles art world was like, ‘You had a party, not an opening, and there’s no art in your gallery. You’re a joke,’ ” remembers Peres.
Fast-forward three years and jet halfway around the globe to Switzerland, where in June crowds flocked to see Koh’s solo installation in Art Basel’s invitational “Statements” section. Through word-of-mouth, the work—which included glass vitrines containing fist-size gold-plated chunks labeled as Koh’s own excrement—had become one of the fair’s signature pieces. More than a dozen collectors fought to buy up the various components, whose total selling price approached $500,000.
Even in an art world marked by the speed with which new stars rise (and fall), Terence Koh’s trajectory is phenomenal. After Art Basel came the season-opening show at the prestigious Kunsthalle Zürich, which allocated him more than 8,000 square feet of space; Koh blanketed one huge room in white powder—walking inside felt like suddenly being caught in a fog bank—and filled another with 1,200 glass vitrines stacked to form a precarious labyrinth. Six weeks later, the godfather of the British art market, Charles Saatchi, and his curatorial ally Norman Rosenthal awarded Koh the pole position just inside their controversial “USA Today” show at London’s Royal Academy, where Koh showed CRACKHEAD, a wall-like arrangement of 222 vitrines containing plaster heads covered in a festering mold owing to the humidity trapped inside.
Capping Koh’s run, the Whitney Museum will open its 2007 program on January 19 with a solo show in the ground-floor gallery devoted to spotlighting young artists. The stakes are high. “Being in the Whitney is like having this huge magnifying glass shining on you,” says Koh. “If I fail, I fail spectacularly in front of the whole art world. That in a way relieves the pressure, because either way, the splatter will be beautiful.”
The Whitney opening—followed by a Koh-hosted all-white after-party à la Truman Capote at Deitch Projects downtown—marks the artist’s triumph in a city where not so very long ago he couldn’t afford studio space. In October, Koh moved back to New York after a three-month sojourn in Berlin. He took over an entire building on Canal Street, painted every exposed surface white, and designated it the new home for his Factory-style gallery project, Asia Song Society (ass). Koh shares the upstairs with his longtime boyfriend, Garrick Gott, a graphic designer. Peres Projects director Blair Taylor manages the gallery’s roster of New York artists from an office directly below their apartment. In the basement will be a sort of clubhouse for the hard-partying downtown art crew, which includes artists such as Peres Projects stablemate Dan Colen, as well as Banks Violette, Barnaby Furnas, Dash Snow, and McGinley.
On the afternoon I stop by, just before Christmas, Koh is having a shoe crisis. He and Peres are planning to fly to Toronto early the next morning for the wedding of gay filmmaker Bruce LaBruce to his Santeria-priest lover, and Koh needs some white pumps. He calls an SUV car service, puts on “the monkey fur” (a hypnotic white couture coat that looks like it was stripped from a yeti’s back and stitched by elves into a sort of winter bolero), and heads to Patricia Field.
Given his swallowlike frame, Koh has humongous feet, and the store doesn’t have white pumps in his size. Improvising, Koh spies a silver version with three spikes jutting from the toes and buys two pairs: the ones in stock, which he plans to razor-slit so he can wear them to the wedding, and a pair commissioned to fit him. The shoe crisis solved, Koh and Peres storm Seven for some Bernhard Willhelm. Speed-shopping both the men’s and women’s sections, they rack up a four-digit bill in fifteen minutes. (Koh is particularly pleased with a pair of white shorts that were once knee-length but have been lacerated into lingerielike laciness.) On the way out the door, they notice a silver necklace that looks like a cross between a feather boa and the sort of thick dookie rope popularized by rappers in the eighties. Peres, in full sugar-daddy dealer mode, caps the shopping spree by buying it for Koh. It’s beautiful but heavy and sharp. By the time we get back to the complex on Canal, Koh’s swan neck is an angry, rashy red. “It’s not the first time I’ve caused you pain,” jokes Peres.
The relationship between dealer and artist can be businesslike, but it sometimes grows into something more emotionally charged. “Javier used to be my lover, but now is only my dealer,” Koh explains via e-mail. “We probably have the closest relationship in the whole of the art world. He has never asked me about why I do a piece or my motivations or ideas or feelings for it. He makes it all up for the world and it’s a perfectly happy symbiosis.” That synergy is partly responsible for Koh’s tremendous market success. “When an artist and dealer who reflect the current time work together like Terence and Javier, things happen quickly—as with Leo Castelli representing Jasper Johns and Roy Lichtenstein in the early sixties,” says veteran art dealer Mary Boone, who had her synergistic moment with Julian Schnabel and David Salle.
Explaining their collaboration, Peres says, “We can talk very candidly about the market issues without it being viewed as a vulgar topic. He’s always alluding to the Chinese merchant culture. Terence jokes about the combination of the Jew and the Chinese being able to figure things out.” It’s not just between them that Koh is candid. Koh once posted online how much money he claimed to have earned as an artist in 2004: $153,782. Even conservative estimates for his 2006 take would break a million dollars. “I love money,” says Koh. “Having money is the grease that helps me run my other crazy projects, like my magazine and my Website and the new porn production company I am setting up in my basement.”
Koh was particularly fortunate to hook up with a dealer able to fund (and sell) anything he conceives. Peres spent nearly $400,000 on an art assembly line in Berlin to produce the 1,400 vitrines required for Koh’s Zürich and London shows. Twenty-eight assistants worked for three months “whiting” the objects Koh collected from sex shops and flea markets. Peres’s investment promptly paid off. The Kunsthalle vitrines, grouped into some ten sets priced between $65,000 and $265,000, sold out. The other objects in the show—a set of white-chocolate paintings, a suspended double-sided mold of Koh’s head, and two towering white-chocolate sculptures (part mountains, part Twin Towers, part phalluses)—brought in $400,000. Likewise, the installation at the Royal Academy cost super-collector Saatchi more than $200,000.
Those are high prices for a young artist, even considering Koh’s huge production costs. But what’s shocking is that collectors are willing to pay such prices for pieces of uncertain durability. From the beginning, Koh has made a habit of using unusual materials: chocolate, semen, blood, vomit, Chanel lipstick. At first, Koh and Peres made the mistake of selling the work without detailing its fragility. “In our rush, our naïveté, it seemed clear that this work was going to change—I mean, it was made of ashes and chocolate. And collectors would later come and say, ‘This broke, can you fix it?’ ” Peres recalls. “Now, no work of Terence leaves my gallery without a release, because his materials are quite unusual. We just don’t know what will happen to a piece made out of chocolate and Terence’s come.”
Koh occasionally consults with buyers when a work degrades, deciding whether it should be replaced, restored, or left alone. Collectors Phil and Shelley Aarons bought a 2004 piece called Michael Jackson, Michael Jackson—two fourteen-inch figures of Jackson in his “Thriller” and “Beat It”–era costumes, covered in chocolate—which over time started to turn white. They were not new to the unpredictability of Koh’s work. In fact, the pair had commissioned what Koh calls his first real artwork: an artists’ book set that incrementally transmogrified into a huge mirrored coffin, packed in white powder, lined in white fur, filled with 220 individual cases, and weighing half a ton. “I gave him my FedEx number when he called to say it was done,” Phil says with a laugh, “and he said, ‘It can’t be FedExed.’ ” Still, he and his wife were concerned by the whitening Michael Jacksons. “Terence came over to see them,” the collector recalls. “He said, ‘It’s even better now; it looks more like Michael Jackson.’ ” The figures, lightly crusted, stand immediately inside the door of the Aaronses’ apartment near Lincoln Center.
In one sense, this material instability functions as a collector purity test. Because while Koh’s rocketing market invites speculation, only a fool buys perishable work for investment purposes. That said, such fragility attracts collectors who pride themselves on supporting “avant-garde” art. Moreover, Koh’s heated market has had an alchemic effect on more risk-averse collectors. “Terence’s work is sometimes covered in fingerprints, contains dirt and spiderwebs, and it’s often broken or already developing mold when you buy it,” points out London dealer Nicolai Frahm, who started collecting Koh in 2004. “But with hype and high prices, those pieces somehow seem more aesthetically appealing to new collectors. That was also the situation with Paul McCarthy or Mike Kelley. Their art seemed too tough at $30,000, but at half a million they’re much easier to swallow.”
I t may be tempting to chalk up Koh’s market ascendancy purely to Peres, but there would be no hype if there weren’t something substantive to promote. Koh’s work isn’t all about the easy impact of gold-plated excrement and all-white rooms. What intrigues curators and collectors is that with each installation, he’s constructing an idiosyncratic and visually stunning universe. “It’s always a risk to give someone such a big space, especially if artists are realizing their first large solo exhibition,” explains Kunsthalle Zürich director Beatrix Ruf. “It can be frightening. But Terence definitely is not afraid. He has an incredible formal ability, the ability to do several things in parallel, and of course, the right urgency. He’s very obsessive. Very precise. And he doesn’t give in.”
Indeed, Koh has a particularly sharp vision. He’s commonly lumped with Gothic Revival artists such as Banks Violette, Aïda Ruilova, and Sue de Beer, because his work is dramatic and occasionally all black. But what makes Koh compelling is his command of space (he once worked for architect Zaha Hadid) and a formal style akin to the Japanese aesthetic of wabi-sabi, celebrating the beauty found in decay and impermanence. “As a child, I really enjoyed going to Asian funerals,” he recalls. “I loved that we all had to dress in black for fourteen days and then on the actual cremation day everybody was in white … Maybe that is what struck in me the monochromatic colors.” An in-your-face gayness also dominates his work, be it the engorged penis on his home page, the man-children he deploys in his performances, his use of come as an art material, or his inviting Armory Show fairgoers to an “opening” that was actually a gay backroom. It’s hard to come up with a prominent artist since Robert Mapplethorpe or David Wojnarowicz whose homosexuality has been employed so provocatively.
“If I fail, I fail spectacularly in front of the whole art world. Either way, the splatter will be beautiful.”
Distinguishing between Koh’s life and his art is virtually impossible. “I don’t think of Terence making individual pieces,” says artist AA Bronson, a founding member of the conceptual group General Idea. “It’s one complex piece. An almost fictional autobiography, one extended work. Artists like Dieter Roth, Yoko Ono, and Ray Johnson all made these little projects that were part of the fabric of their life. Terence does that as well.” The details of that autobiography constantly shift to his advantage. Koh grew up in Canada, but press materials state that he was born in Beijing, and his birth date has advanced over the years from 1977 to 1979 to 1980. Bronson chuckles: “Terence lies about everything. I think he was born in Singapore. And my guess is he’s about 36.”
Bronson, whom Koh considers a sort of father figure, worries about the speed of his onetime studio assistant’s success. “I really hate seeing artists take off that fast, because they almost always crash,” Bronson says. “Terence is the real thing. But even real deals can burn out. I say that to him all the time.” Helping set the pace of an artist’s career is one of a dealer’s primary functions, and Peres’s balls-out speed raises eyebrows. “I see young artists as embers to be patiently fanned into flame. Javier’s approach appears to be more like pouring gasoline on it,” says Becky Smith of Chelsea’s Bellwether Gallery. “Call me old school, but when it comes to an artist’s trajectory, I look at the whole ‘Kaboom!’ thing suspiciously.”
The pitfall here is that getting the art world’s attention is child’s play compared with keeping it. “He’s in a very interesting moment,” observes Ruf. “Some artists don’t even get looked at, but others have the problem of only being fascinating. People are fascinated by Terence’s objects and the white spaces. But as an artist, you have to ensure they have an experience beyond that first fascinating moment. That’s a challenge Terence will have to face just as Andreas Gursky and Jeff Koons did.”
It’s impossible to say whether the Whitney installation will deliver the type of transcendent experience Ruf describes, but it certainly shows that Koh won’t let himself be labeled a one-trick pony. There are no vitrines. No white powder. Nothing broken, decomposing, or vaguely sexual. Instead, inside a pristine room will stand a spindly tripod holding a movie spotlight, 600 degrees Fahrenheit at its surface and emitting an artificial daylight visible yards away on Madison Avenue. “It casts hypersharp shadows even in the middle of the day,” says curator Shamim M. Momin, who also selected Koh for the 2004 Whitney Biennial. “You’ll walk in, start to sense that it’s crazy bright, then turn and have it explode into your vision. The idea is to evoke a physical sensation that is both painful and amazing.”
Next up for Koh is a group show at London’s Victoria Miro Gallery, another solo exhibition during Art Basel, and a public-arts project in Beijing planned to coincide with the 2008 Olympics. Not to mention plans to start working with a heavy-hitting European gallery. Despite Bronson’s advice, Koh does not fear fizzling. “I think it’s quite elegant when a star starts burning out, becoming much brighter and then eventually imploding and becoming a black hole, becoming antimatter,” he says. “I look forward to it. Just not for a billion or so years.”
[[i] 本帖最后由 inkdog 于 2007-8-29 02:31 编辑 [/i]] 我喜欢脑袋的碎片 :Q :Q 我喜欢欲望的厕所 [color=Red][size=4]这小伙子的靓照![/size][/color] 作品:破碎的头
八卦來了
小伙子現在正在北京，來做奧運會的裝置，聲稱自己是北京人聽說其相貌猥瑣，是個GAY，:Q ，我大受打擊啊！
北京藝術圈無人知道他，以為是個賣破罐的小混混～～
[[i] 本帖最后由 inkdog 于 2007-12-10 18:08 编辑 [/i]] 巴尔迪克当代艺术中心因展出耶稣雕像“勃起” 被法院起诉
发布: 2008-7-30 10:35 | 作者: 佚名 | 来源: 中新网 | 查看: 4次
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饱受争议的耶稣下体勃起的雕像
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艺术家许汉威(Terence Koh)
英国盖茨黑德著名艺术画廊“巴尔迪克当代艺术中心”，因展出艺术家许汉威(Terence Koh)一个显示耶稣基督下体勃起的雕像正被法院起诉，案件将于9月开审。 许汉威的其它作品也因内容不雅收到无数投诉。
据香港《文汇报》28日报道，许汉威其它展品包括同样是“勃起”的米奇老鼠和ET外星人雕像。虽然有标语警告展览内容不雅，但画廊仍收到无数投诉。
“巴尔迪克当代艺术中心”收到英国艺术委员会3500万英镑补助金后，于2003年开幕。
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