Rebrands are all the rage for this year’s Beijing art week, which ran from 22 May to 1 June, now brandishing the new title of Beijing Art Season, comprising a gallery weekend plus two fairs. JingArt, the fair run since 2018 by Shanghai’s Art021 fair, this year returns as Art021 Beijing (22 to 25 May), with a new location in Tank 79 and The First Workshop in art district 798.
The 798 gallery complex of 1950s Bauhaus factories has now officially incorporated the adjacent complex 751, changing its official moniker to the 798 751 Art District, though it is popularly referred to as 798.
The week’s other flagships, Gallery Weekend Beijing (GWBJ, 23 May to 1 June) and the fair Beijing Dangdai (22 to 25 May), respectively running since 2017 and 2018, also return this year. With participants largely from the city and around China, Beijing Dangdai has gradually been expanding and professionalising since pandemic-era contractions, while GWBJ, run by 798’s parent company Seven Star, undergoes structural shifts related to both 798’s management changes and the struggling Chinese economy.
Visitors to the 798·751 Art District
Courtesy of Gallery Weekend Beijing.
“The Beijing market has definitely slowed down,” says Sammi Liu, the founder of Tabula Rasa Gallery, located in Beijing and London. “Gallerists are working much harder to make sales happen—but there’s still energy and interest.” Liu’s gallery took part in both GWBJ and Art021 Beijing this year and described sales as “decent”. She observed collectors visiting 798 galleries late into GWBJ’s opening night. “I left 798 around 11pm, and many galleries still had their lights on. So, while the pace is more challenging, conversations are happening, and we’re staying engaged — it’s not a desperate situation.”
Still, continued Liu, “we’re definitely feeling the impact” of tariffs. “We were in the middle of selling works to the US when the new tariffs were announced. Some of those sales had to be cancelled, and we’re still struggling to figure out how to manage the rest. It’s added a layer of uncertainty that makes planning and pricing much more complicated.”
According to Beijing Dangdai’s art director Bao Dong, “the worldwide economy as well as China’s has obviously not been growing as quickly as before the pandemic”. In China, the art market “has shown two extremes, two directions,” with major works by famous artists “still very, very popular” and priced high “because people need a good investment and wealth preservation channel”. Meanwhile, young and emerging artists are popular for their affordability, especially with new collectors. However, he describes the mid-market priced around 300,000 to 1m Chinese yuan (around $40,000 to $140,000) as “a bit fatigued and tired”.
This year marks only the second year that the three events were held concurrently, and the confluence seems to have compensated for GWBJ scaling back. This year it suspended its curated selling exhibition and the Visiting Sector hosting international galleries in empty spaces at 798. Instead, the sole visitor was Shanghai gallery Antenna Space, showing the Europe-based Chinese rising market stars Xinyi Cheng and Evelyn Taocheng Wang.
“Rather than letting commercial art fairs to take the lead, it is more fitting for us—the art district—to spearhead Beijing’s cultural and artistic programming,” says Yan Mingdan, the general manager of Beijing 798 Culture Technology.
Yan envisions this “nomadic gallery” pop-up model as one that “encourages deeper, more sustained engagement with non-local and international institutions—both in terms of exhibition and market presence”. Yan compares them to Venice Biennale collateral events in spanning several months instead of the roughly month-long tenancy of prior visiting sectors.
This was the first edition of GWBJ that did not charge participating Beijing galleries, which some exhibitors surmised was to prevent participant attrition amid the struggling economy. Yan says, rather, that “building a major urban cultural and artistic event is far more valuable than whether galleries pay participation fees”, highlighting the behind-scenes change to a five-member gallery selection committee elected by last year’s participants.
“Waiving participation fees reflects a broader repositioning of what GWBJ stands for. By reducing financial barriers, we create more opportunities for high-quality galleries and ambitious projects to join us. Our long-term vision is to support a healthier, more sustainable art ecosystem—where participation costs may eventually be covered by sponsors or other collaborative funding models, helping to create a virtuous cycle for all involved.”
Yan took charge in 2023 after the departure Wang Yanlin, who founded 798 in 2002. Yan says the 798 and 751 merger in the second half of 2024 has cultivated “distinct yet complementary brand concepts” with 798 focused on culture, art, and consumer-facing experiences” and 751 with its office spaces “emphasises the integration of technology and culture.” However, “physically, the boundaries between the two have disappeared.”
“The 798 751 community [is] one of the most profound places for contemporary art in China,” describes the Art021 Group cofounder David Chau of his fair’s relocation there, from a department store last year and the Beijing Exhibition Center previously. With GWBJ and the galleries’ best annual shows running, “we really felt deeply connected to Beijing’s art scene”. Proximity made transport convenient for exhibitors and collectors, and new afternoon premier hours limited overcrowding at the fair, featuring 51 galleries.
Beijing Dangdai this year, meanwhile, hosted 88 galleries among 133 exhibitors, including a standout booth design resembling a Chinese garden by Shanghai’s Studio Gallery, a second-time exhibitor at Dangdai. “Exceeding expectations” in visitor numbers including familiar collectors, says the gallery founder Celine Zhuang, “it’s clear that this exhibition has laid a solid foundation for future trust and brand building”.
Zhuang adds: “But there’s one thing I noticed during this exhibition that I feel quite strongly about. I’m not sure if it’s appropriate to say this openly, but I did feel that there are many people who are trying to bypass the gallery system and go directly to the artists to buy works. They may genuinely like the pieces, but they still choose to sidestep the existing rules and structure.” She has not observed this in other Chinese markets. Both Beijing fairs featured booths for individual artists selling directly, but Zhuang describes a deeper issue of buyers approaching gallery artists directly.
“With the openness and transparency of the internet and social media, this trend is becoming even more apparent. This phenomenon makes me feel a bit disheartened. It’s disappointing to see that in China, we still lack a fair and effective framework for the art market. This situation not only affects the normal operations of galleries but also poses a significant challenge to the healthy development of the entire industry.”
Beijing Art Season, a catchier name in the original Mandarin, extended out also to open studios and collections in Beijing’s exurbs, and officially incorporated a trip to the Aranya Resort in Qinhuangdao, a five hour drive from Beijing, home to UCCA branch Dune and the Aranya Art Centre.
Aranya opened shows by Judy Waston, David Ostrowski, Vivien Zhang and Massinissa Selmani in its new North Hall, and Dune’s solo show of Hu Yinping’s knit installations You Can Start Anytime (until 12 October) was a season highlight. “This year’s collaboration with 798 and participation in Beijing Art Season really showed us the power of collective effort,” says David Chau, with each project “bringing something unique to the table—and together, we create something stronger.”
