Recent years have seen Liaoning-born He Xiangyu emerge as a rising star of the fast-paced and fickle world of Chinese contemporary art. With a string of solo exhibitions at international galleries and institutions to his name, as well as participation in group showcases including the film program held in conjunction with the exhibition “Tales of Our Time” (2016) at the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, and the 13th Biennale de Lyon (2015), the young artist’s presence has been unfaltering since graduating from Shenyang Normal University in 2008. Known for conceptual installations addressing cultural and social concerns in today’s China, He’s recent work has taken an introspective turn, as witnessed by his latest Shanghai exhibition, “Turtle, Lion and Bear.”

The exhibition was one of several shows to open at Shanghai’s West Bund cultural district in the lead up to Art Basel Hong Kong. The venue, Qiao Space, points to the significant clout of a handful of collectors who are shaping the city’s art scene. The recently built private exhibition space of collector Qiao Zhibing will soon be joined by his ambitious cultural park, Tank Shanghai, slated to open later this year.

For He’s show, which was organized in partnership with White Cube gallery, Qiao Space’s huge sliding doors were given a not-so-mellow yellow makeover to match the startling hue of the show’s centerpiece, 121 Lemons (2016). An extension of He’s recent “Lemon Flavored” series (2014–16), his ongoing body of work “Lemon Paintings” (2016– ) sees citrus-shaped blank spaces punctuate otherwise saturated canvases. Deceptively simple, the shapes’ arrangement tricks the eye, making the fruits appear to jostle and jump. Presented alongside these pieces were works on paper comprising He’s notes, sketches and studies for the larger paintings, exploring everything from how tone and angle influence visual perception, to the effect created by square-shaped as opposed to rectangular surfaces. “Lemon Paintings” plays on our cognition and physical senses to prompt two distinct physiological reactions. The artwork is visually disruptive—despite its apparent simplicity, 121 Lemons is genuinely jarring to look at thanks to its spatial arrangement of citrus-suggestive spaces and narrow tonal spectrum. It is not an entirely comfortable experience. To a lesser extent, the work also plays on the gustatory, prompting in some a sudden acidic taste in the mouth in an effect not unlike that of synesthesia.