Upstream Gallery Amsterdam

Which bodies are allowed to move freely and unhindered through the city? How can groups of people change cities through organisation, solidarity and movement? During a performance festival and exhibition in ROZENSTRAAT, a diverse group of artists will explore these questions and many more besides through videos, readings, performances, tours and workshops. The festival and exhibition engage in critical dialogue with AmsterdamREALTIME and consider the presence of different bodies in public spaces. It aims to acknowledge the shifting nature of their presence and the norms of their acceptance in different contexts by tracing their choreography of power and vulnerability. Enter/Public/Space and Enter/Public/Stage investigate the performativity of the body, presence in public spaces, and the political dimensions of urban design and technology. Bodies in public spaces are read, judged, and regulated through and ‘oriented’ around unevenly distributed infrastructural conditions. Some movements feel natural, but others encounter resistance, friction, or exclusion. The program pays special attention to mobility and surveillance. At a time when freedom of movement, visibility, and control are becoming increasingly unequal, the festival offers an artistic platform for the critical, sensory, and public exploration of these urgent issues.

Upstream Gallery is pleased to present Glorious Substances, Beautiful Settings, a new solo exhibition by [LINK text='Jen Liu' href='https://www.upstreamgallery.nl/artists/14/jen-liu'] (USA, 1976), opening on January 17, 2026. The exhibition brings together Liu’s latest video work and paintings, part of FUTURE PERFECT 888666, a body of work based on the stories of Chinese migrant women in the Americas. This chapter brings together interviews with 19th-century Chinese sex workers in the United States and contemporary AI microworkers, structured by the circular logic of Chinese microdramas (online platform soap operas) and the neurological effects of mercury poisoning. For Liu, contemporary digital platform gig labor depends on incomplete and false documentation, invisibility of the work done, hours spent, and anonymity of the workers themselves. These gaps echo the effects of mercury poisoning, including memory loss, numbness, loss of words and peripheral vision. Invisibility was necessary for migrant Chinese women in the 19th century: who gained entry by lying about their identities and memories, then proceeded as sex workers in San Francisco Chinatown’s alleyways and scattered mining encampments. Hiding from police raids and suffering from VD’s, they often used mercury as a remedy, leading to mercury poisoning on undocumented scales. All of this forms a trans-historical loop of memory loss, toxicity, and work that equates invisibility with survival. A new series of paintings depict the backs of women' s heads with hair arranged in fantastical forms playing off late Qing Dynasty Chinese hairstyles. Strong geometric forms have oozing strings, emoji patterns, and droplets of mercury laid atop or emerging from within. The works offer a surreal meditation on historical presence without identity; and history precariously assembled through artificial traces and hidden motivations. These paintings reflect Liu’s ongoing work with 19th century immigration case files of Chinese migrant women in San Francisco, reviewing folder after folder of women, filled with fake life stories, whose real stories are forever lost to time. Liu uses those immigration case file texts as a script in her new video, Time Traveler in D-Block. It begins with a contemporary microworker who dies due to exhaustion. This starts a time travel loop, in which she travels to the candlelit 19th century, and to the flowing silks and female solidarity of a Tang Dynasty court, and back again. But this soon breaks down into soap opera theatrics and syphilitic skin sores, set to interview transcripts from today’s microworkers, about what it’s like to work for hours on end with no break, little pay, and no protection. Finally, we see Mercury as a speaking character: She’s a fluidic future, in which everything solid has broken down. Labor, identity, and history liquefy, as truth and fiction, organic and synthetic, past and present become indistinguishable. The title of the exhibition borrows a quote by Marc Andreessen on “reality privilege,” in which he asserts that the forthcoming world of simulations is primarily for the poor, to improve what Andreessen thinks of as their otherwise miserable existences. If this is true, what kind of fluid realities will be created?