Our art series demystifies the artworks we love—or love to hate. Ahead of Bruce Nauman’s first survey exhibition in Hong Kong, we tackle a piece that is as disturbing now as it when it was first showcased 37 years ago
Art is supposed to make you feel and think, but good art is supposed to go beyond that, and even leave you feeling slightly uncomfortable. By these standards, Bruce Nauman’s Clown Torture (1987) is a masterpiece. Visceral, disturbing and thought-provoking, the work’s effect is as impactful now as it was when it was first screened in 1987.
That same year, Nauman gave a rare interview, for a documentary with art curator and critic Joan Simon, excerpts of which were published in the September 1988 edition of Art in America magazine. In that conversation, he described wanting to make art that “was just there all at once. Like getting hit in the face with a baseball bat. Or better, like getting hit in the back of the head. You never see it coming; it just knocks you down.” Clown Torture accomplishes this, unexpectedly hitting you when you might least expect it: presented as art work at an exhibition.
The Clown Torture series consists of several films played on loop, displayed as an installation consisting of monitors and screen projections. Clown Taking a Sh*t is shot from the perspective of a surveillance camera, capturing from above a clown on the toilet who seems to be having a nervous breakdown. In Clown with Goldfish, the character attempts to balance a fishbowl on the handle of a broom, while in Clown with Water Bucket, the clown repeatedly opens a door with a bucket of water balanced on it that, predictably, falls on his head. In Pete and Repeat, a clown is seen repeating the joke: “Pete and Repeat are sitting on a fence. Pete falls off. Who’s left? Repeat …”.
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Above Detailed view of Bruce Nauman’s “Clown Torture” (Photo: courtesy of Tai Kwun Contemporary, © 2024 Bruce Nauman / Artists Rights Society [ARS])
While typically associated with cheer and entertainment, clowns have also always reflected the darker side of humanity. The term “coulrophobia”, the fear of clowns, was coined in the 1990s after a proliferation of creepy depictions of clowns, such as The Joker and It ensued in mainstream media throughout the late 1980s and early 90s—coinciding with release of Nauman’s piece.
In No, No, No, another film for Clown Torture, Nauman has a Pierrot clown, based on the 17th-century French “sad clown” archetype, repeatedly shouting “no”. This work is often showcased opposite I’m Sorry, in which the clown keeps on apologising, saying, “I’m sorry for what I did. I don’t know why I did it”. Without context, this juxtaposition creates an absurd interaction. Pierrot encapsulates the human condition and the experience of life itself—caught somewhere between tragedy and comedy. Throughout his practice, and particularly with Clown Torture, Nauman explores the less appealing aspects of the human condition, including alienation/isolation, entrapment, boredom, anxiety and failure. It’s the relentless repetition that intensifies the cringeworthy discomfort that those themes trigger.
Viewers can see these two films from Clown Torture in Hong Kong, as part of a major survey exhibition at JC Contemporary, Tai Kwun. It’s the first of its kind in Asia, and is held in collaboration with the Bruce Nauman Studio. It primarily consists of works from the Pinault Collection and the Philadelphia Museum of Art, as well as loans from London’s Tate Modern, MoMA in New York, and the US-based Dia Art Foundation and Sonnabend Foundation. Carlos Basualdo, deputy director of the Philadelphia Museum of Art and Caroline Bourgeois, director of the Pinault Collection, have curated the show along with Pi Li, the new head of art at Tai Kwun Contemporary.

Above Nauman’s “The True Artist Helps the World by Revealing Mystic Truths (Window or Wall Sign)”, (1967) (Photo: © 2024 Bruce Nauman/Artists Rights Society, New York)
The Bruce Nauman exhibition at Tai Kwun showcases the breadth and expanse of Nauman’s practice—he pioneered multiple forms of media, and since the 1960s has created art that spans sculptures, film, installations, holograms, neon wall reliefs, photographs, prints and performance. Known as an “artist’s artist”, Nauman’s influence on his own and future generations is immense: from Tracey Emin to Rashid Johnson, countless artists have cited Nauman as a source of influence and inspiration, particularly through expanding the parameters that defined the idea of what art could be.
"He opened the door for multimedia artists, and expanded the idea of what art could be. For instance, he was one of the first artists to dabble with neon,” says Pi, highlighting one of Nauman’s iconic works, The True Artist Helps the World by Revealing Mystic Truths (Window or Wall Sign) (1967), that will be one view at the Tai Kwun show.
Another work, Animal Pyramid (1989), shows Nauman’s trademark exposition of discomfort and vulnerability. Consisting of a stack of 17 taxidermised moulds of unspecified, animal-like creatures, Pi describes the work as a torturous showcase; “It’s all animal with no skin; you can feel the violence.” Bourgeois echoes Pi’s sentiments, saying: “In one word, I would describe his work as raw. It takes courage to dare to do that: to say I’m an animal; to be raw and exposed.”

Above Nauman’s “Animal Pyramid” (1989) (Photo: © 2024 Bruce Nauman/Artists Rights Society, New York), courtesy of David Zwirner, Photo Maris Hutchinson)
With its vulnerable awkwardness, evident particularly in Clown Torture, Nauman’s ability to encapsulate and display the most despairing aspects of the human experience adds to the shock value of his work and keeps it relevant. “He’s the opposite of a hero: he just picks at his own weakness and exposes it,” says Bourgeois of his work, comparing it to visual culture today where people literally filter out their flaws. “You have to experience his works and sit with them; his work is so alive—it doesn’t age.”
Despite his significant works in multimedia and sculpture, his video art had, and continues to have, perhaps the greatest impact. This is partially because it documents and channels an underlying connective theme that runs throughout his practice: the idea of repetition. “As in most of Nauman’s work, the feeling of helplessness caused by repetition and confinement makes the viewer uneasy and and ultimately anxious,” says Basualdo, accurately capturing the discomfiting effect of Clown Torture.
In many of his earlier works, such as Wall Floor Position (1968) and Walk with Contrapposto (1968), the artist uses his own body to test his own endurance, comfort and limits by repeating physical actions over long periods of time. He has continued this process throughout his career, documenting and making new iterations that draw upon his older pieces, including Contrapposto Split (2017) and Contrapposto Studies I-VII, (2015-16); the latter is on view at Tai Kwun.

Above Nauman’s “Contrapposto Studies I Through VII”, (2015-2016), (Photo: © 2024 Bruce Nauman/Artists Rights Society, New York)
Pi further explains Nauman’s intention by positing a famous quote by the artist: “He once said, ‘I think art is about the activity, not the product.’ Video became a means through which he could record his activity and his process of making art and interrogating life.” Clown Torture marks a departure point for the artist, as it the first time he employs an actor to perform in his films, while in his earlier works, he would enact the role himself. It was also the first video he made after taking a break from the medium in the Seventies.
The enduring relevance of Nauman’s work is easily quantified in the numerous solo exhibitions and museum retrospectives, including the Minnesota’s Walker Art Center in 1993, MoMA in 2018, and at Tate Modern in 2020. He was also awarded the Golden Lion prize at the 2009 Venice Biennale for his participation in representing the US pavilion. His body of work is prolific, but Clown Torture remains one of his most iconic and visceral works.
The piece was negatively reviewed when it came out, particularly after it was exhibited in the 1989 Whitney Biennial, because it challenged the idea that art only served an aesthetic or pleasurable purpose. His work is still difficult for some people to accept even in more recent times: after his retrospectives at the Art Institute of Chicago, MoMA and Tate Modern, there were online reviews that complained that the work’s disturbing, incessant repetition scared children. The fact that its controversial nature sparks discussion of what art can be, still to this day, furthers its case as a significant work that helps define how we approach and produce culture.
Beyond testing his own limits or reflecting on those of humanity, with Clown Torture Nauman confronts us with the limits of our own tolerance and endurance, and that’s why it’s art.
Bruce Nauman, Tai Kwun, May 15-August 18, JC Contemporary, Tai Kwun,10 Hollywood Rd, Central
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