Liverpool claims one of the oldest Chinatowns in Europe—a legacy of the rapid growth of trade routes with Hong Kong, mainland China and Singapore following the Opium Wars in the latter half of the 19th Century. Trade went into rapid decline during the Second World War and unwanted Chinese sailors were laid off, separating them from their families in their hometowns and resulting in the Chinese communities that then anchored themselves in the northern maritime city. In acknowledgement of these diasporic narratives, “Presence: A Window into Chinese Contemporary Art” featured an eclectic exhibition of works by 19 contemporary Chinese artists, drawn from the collection of the University of Salford, which, over the past few years, has been acquiring pieces by Chinese and Taiwanese artists, as well as British artists of Chinese descent—a focus that is unique for an institution in the United Kingdom. The show took place in the vaults of St. George’s Hall, Liverpool, a dramatic location that lent a feeling of the work being given a makeshift accommodation, which was apt considering the historical marginalization of Anglo-Chinese artists by British institutions.

London-based artist Susan Pui San Lok had a suitably dramatic presentation for her work, with flying figures projected onto a screen suspended above the viewer. The work features the reworking of Chinese wuxia or martial arts films that, for anyone growing up in Britain in the 1970s and ’80s, were the main introduction to Chinese popular culture. Clips of fantastic characters from the Condor film series are interspersed with the artist’s shots of mundane English street scenes, featuring Chinese restaurants with names that correspond to the narrative of the film. The artist tinted these local street scenes with a yellow that matches the degraded colors of the original films, an amusing touch that created a sense of nostalgia. By juxtaposing the romanticized images of Chinese cinema with those of banal Anglo-Chinese takeaways, Pui presents the challenge many diaspora artists face of incorporating references to their cultural heritage while navigating the ambiguities of a mixed background.

This equivocal tone was similarly evoked in several works that subvert traditional Chinese techniques and images. What appears to be a beautiful ink drawing of a snow-covered mountain scene by Taiwanese artist Wu Chi-Tsung is actually a printing effect created by crumpling up a cyanotype, while Shanghainese artist Chen Hangfeng’s “Fu Lu Shou” (2013) series—elaborate paper cut outs of Chinese text characters—incorporates the logos of luxury Western brands such as Versace, illustrating the reversal of historical trade routes between Europe and China, and shifting economic power.

Guangzhou-born multimedia artist Cao Fei’s stop-motion animated film La Town (2014) seemingly has all the requisite elements for a Chinese cinematic spectacle promoting new urban development with massive sets, including an airport and a cast of thousands, but is filmed using miniature figures and models. With its post-apocalyptic scenario and suitably downbeat French voiceovers—reminiscent of Chris Marker’s science-fiction film La Jetée (1962)—presents a mocking tale of the social crisis that connects cleverly with Liverpool’s current attempts to recall its historical community links with China in the hope of reversing economic decline.

Many of the works are reflections on personal consciousness apart from specifics of cultural history. Hong Kong-born installation artist Suki Chan’s entrancing video Lucida (2016) uses the voices of contemporary neuroscientists to overlay her own visual experiments with camera obscura that create beautiful projected illusions in order to study the basic mechanism of sight. What the piece reveals is that the process is far more complex and creative than any traditional philosophical model had allowed. Beijing-based artist Ma Qiusha’s "Fog" series (2012), in which watercolor is applied on paper through a lace curtain—a material rich with associations between public and private sight—also studies seeing as a mediated act.

The inclusion of works from China, Taiwan, Hong Kong and the wider diaspora posed a challenge in terms of how much contextual material to provide, particularly where historical details might have raised thorny political issues, but the presentation benefited from the curatorial decision to let the works speak for themselves. This restraint could be seen in the presentation of Taiwanese visual artist Chen Ching-Yuan’s video installation The (Flare-S) (2013), in which a scene depicting six lifeboats—each with a single occupant—floating on the sea at night is projected above a group of battered wooden boats. The sailors aboard each boat set off flares, their rescue signals turning into a fireworks spectacle as the boats sink. While Chen’s work can be interpreted as representing Taiwan’s precarious geopolitical situation vis-à-vis an increasingly powerful China, another reading is the common experience of a diasporic community holding onto collective expression, and the fear of being submerged in a new environment. It also brought to mind the Chinese mariners who were dismissed by their British employers and left stranded in alien ports, with no means of returning to their homes. For a local audience transfixed by Brexit and the prospect of being economically and politically cast adrift, this work seemed to present a startling parallel.

“Presence: A Window into Chinese Contemporary Art” is on view at St George’s Hall, Liverpool, until 3 June, 2018.

• China
• UK