Artist Maria Ängkvist Klyvare has worked on large-scale public commissions for many years. During a trip to China for such a commission, Klyvare became interested in "missing" Chinese girls. After much research, China Girl was shown at Konstnärshuset in Stockholm, Sweden during January and February 2008, and currently is on tour throughout Sweden; accompanying the exhibition are a website and professionally written guides for children and adults.

The best art presents thought-provoking issues and questions beyond the physical manifestation of the work. Exhibitions with a clear message or pat answers usually fall flat. Maria Ängkvist Klyvare's exhibition China Girl focuses on one horrifying fact, confronting the viewer with very difficult issues and many questions. The fact is this: in China, 3200 girls between the ages of 0 and 4 years old disappear each and every day. They die from murder, abortion and neglect, all at the hands of their relatives or officials. However, the initial presentation of China Girl is so subtle, poetic and inviting, that the message crawls undetected inside the viewer's consciousness, in a way that a more bombastic manifestation could never do.

On the China Girl website (see below) one can find several informative background texts, in Swedish and English, exploring why, in the twenty-first century, Chinese boys are so strongly preferred over girls. One of the reasons described is that the familial network has been breaking down since the 1980's. The longstanding official "one child per family" policy and cultural traditions compound the problem; tradition dictates that a daughter be married away, while a son and his wife take over the family responsibilities, including care of aging parents.

China Girl consists of nine pieces of different characters and material. The total impression of the works is well balanced; I felt curious and ready to get into the works because each tell their part of the story. In one, Wishing Well, a big bucket, I witness a video projection of a small child in water. At first, I only see the water, but then the child's image appears. This phenomenon of slow realization repeats for several of the pieces in the show. It makes me feel conscious of myself as the spectator, a passive observer which I think is true about so many things in our lives. Understanding our frequent role as spectators is one of the brilliant moves in this show. After reading some of the exhibitions texts, one realizes the real meaning of Wishing Well. During the days before ultrasound, a bucket filled with water was brought next to the expectant mother during labor.

One of the strongest pieces in my opinion is Broom; a mop in large format hanging from the ceiling. The mop itself consists of real human hair. The oversized format and the dark colour of the piece gives it an immediate presence. As I stand in front of the tall shaft, I get the impression of its weightlessness, the hair almost at my eye level. Broom is positioned next to Wishing Well and oversized, too, together giving a slightly surreal impact. Masterfully, Klyvare elegantly manages us to visualize the creepy and sad image of an unwanted girl.

Another striking piece is The Army of Unblessed Souls. A group, rather than an army, of white child sized figures, not clearly girls, stand at confused attention in one end of the room. The wall behind The Army of Unblessed Souls is a large mirror which strengthens the impression that they are many. As I stand looking, I suddenly recognize myself standing with the silent group of white children. Suddenly, I have entered into the work. The Asian featured bodies are formally anonymous except for individual hairdos, made from real black hair, giving each figure its own character. From each child, a small plastic hose leads to individual wooden platforms. In the connecting clear plastic hose air bubbles begin to move slowly when I stand on a platform. Thus, I am intimately linked to the figure through this umbilical like tube. In a matter of moments, I see that my child starts a tiny, subtle movement, triggered by my weight. My spontaneous reaction is happiness. Then the insight hits me; the child is moving because of my choice. It's a serious and responsible position.

No Swedish company with business in China has shown interest in the China Girl project. Upon a direct question they have stated a choice to not get involved in the internal politics of the country. They are afraid that such an involvement or support of this project would make the Swedish/Chinese trading and business connections more difficult. By not speaking out, are they condoning a horrific practice.

There are many aspects to China Girl which each deserve deep attention and reflection. It is important to note that a ceramic artist has taken the initiative to highlight this problem. Although several of the works have clay components, their execution is so suited to the powerful theme that materialness becomes a minor concern in relation. I find it relieving to find myself concentrating on the story and the questions asked.

China Girl is a political and human statement. The exhibition has rendered numerous resumes and critiques in Swedish national media. The timing is good, voices about human rights in China are increasing, only few months before the Olympics. I think China Girl a highly interesting, personal, and strong interpretation of a great human tragedy.