This massively ambitious project tries to portray the different movements and transitions within the Shanghai art scene from the late ’70s up to the present. Held in a hard to find, half-finished space, the work fills five galleries over four floors. However, the cavernous, plaster-shedding rooms seem strangely appropriate for this raw and eccentric collection.

While the artists’ technical skills vary tremendously, there is much that captures the imagination. These emotionally charged contemporaries are angry, joyous, cynical and laughing at their world.

One farcical piece by Zhou Xiaohu features 50 televisions showing footage of detectives unwittingly following and being followed by other detectives. Fights ensue and embarrassed confessions follow.

As you move up the stairs, each gallery becomes more absorbing. He Yang’s tortured series entitled “Lies” features frightening images of Grim Reaper-like doctors disemboweling patients, while on neighboring canvases malnourished people sit around a table. Hu Jianping has videotaped a performance entitled “Corn House,” which turns China’s dependence on rice into an trip filled with balloons, vacuums and a man dressed as a rice cooker.

Yang Fudong as “The First Intellectual” is bloody, beaten and wearing a business suit. Xuzhen’s disturbing projection shows a back being smacked by an unseen object. As angry, red stripes appear it slowly dawns on you that the title of this piece is “Rainbow.”

On the fourth floor, Nei laments superficial real estate monsters that have moved into the city. Lu Chunsheng videos a girl wandering through Shanghai, often stopping to look up at the sky–she is looking for bachelors.

At times, things seems slap-dash, poorly labeled, and too much to handle. You may laugh, cringe or scratch your head, but by the time you hit the last gallery you will be emotionally battered. This alone makes the show worthwhile. It rises above and scoffs at any form of apathy.

Lee Smith