CHINA: Mao Zedong lives on in his country's art galleries, writes Clifford Coonan in Beijing
A delirious looking Chinese soldier waves the Red Flag, while muscled peasants stare fixedly into a bright socialist future, just inches away from reclining nude figures and ceramic cranes.
In another gallery, a member of the Red Detachment of Women dances with the Statue of Liberty wearing Marilyn Monroe's dress. People sip espressos as Mao Zedong looks on from an iconic portrait. What would the chairman have made of this? Much of the art at this year's Dashanzi International Arts Festival in Beijing pokes fun at the Cultural Revolution, which began 40 years ago this month, but also confronts some of the horror of those 10 years of hardline communist mania which saw thousands of intellectuals and artists attacked and disgraced by dogma-crazed Red Guards.
In the run-up to the festival, which began at the weekend, culture ministry officials came to call and three galleries were asked to remove over 20 paintings with political content.
But there are plenty of challenging pieces left on display at over 80 galleries and studios in the festival, which has become the prime date in China's contemporary art calendar.
The Dashanzi art district, also known as 798, came about after a group of artists rented out a former munitions plant, Factory 798, in 2002 and set up galleries and workshops there. It has thrived ever since, despite occasional nods of disapproval from the powers-that-be.
As contemporary art is still a relatively new idea in China, only finding its feet after being opened up following the Cultural Revolution, 798 is trying to help Chinese artists forge some kind of identity. The area is as much a community centre as it is a Temple Bar-style hangout.
As the dominant icon of the communist era in China, Mao Zedong still features strongly in the imagery in contemporary visual arts. "Mao is the most famous figure in China and a great leader in our history. My mother and father worshipped him like a god," said Susan Sun from the New Art Warehouse.
In Ma Han's work, people issue forth from the Great Helmsman's mouth, while Zero Field gallery has a sculpture of the young Mao, taken from a famous picture, gazing keenly at the viewer. "The Cultural Revolution was a special time - it never happened anywhere else, it was unique, and it figures in both the young and older artists' work," said Ms Sun.
Some work, such as Qu Yan's heavy oil paintings of dark trains with key dates in Chinese history - such as 1949, the year the Communists came to power; or 2008, Beijing Olympic year - examines the way China is dealing with changes since the end of the Cultural Revolution.
At the Long March Space, director Lu Jie, who has studied in London, is curator of the slick "No Foreigners Beyond This Point". His projects are trying to move beyond the images of the Mao era.
"Other shows are bringing the cliches - the Mao stuff that's been going on for 20 years. We're not against anything, we want to provide a context. We are all part of global contemporary art now - all the boundaries are unfolding."
The rise in interest in Chinese contemporary art has gone hand-in-hand with the rise in the economy, which led to the development of the schools known as "political pop" and "cynical realism", which examined commercialism and consumerism in new ways.
One major cynical realist is Zhang Xiaogang, born in 1958 and once considered too politically questionable to be shown in China. Zhang's work is characterised by monochrome family portraits, such as "Bloodline Series: Comrade No 120 from 1998. Everyone - artists, curators, and cafe pundits alike - is amazed the piece went for $975,000 in an auction last month in Sotheby's New York, the highest price ever paid for a painting by a living Chinese artist.