"Thirteen minutes is a long time. Initially most people didn't feel much. Two people must have known each other quite well for them to come along as a pair. Then, as time passed, feelings of embarrassment and discomfort began to grow, like the vapor on a chilled piece of glass. Both felt tempted to break away. Some even admitted to having developed a visceral feeling of disgust."

While some indeed chose to put an end to the prolonged embrace, others persisted and later talked to Gao about the gradual disappearance of awkward feelings, replaced by a deeper and more profound sense of mutual attachment they had never experienced before.

"Believe it or not, there's usually a glass wall between you and your loved ones. The project we did helped bring out the invisible for both sides to see. If they have the will, they can walk through it. The project is underwritten by what I believe is the fundamental purpose of art: to arouse and to enable the expression of emotions."

Last year the art museum, a long-time presence on the country's contemporary art scene, received an estimated 300,000 visitors. A large part of that number is drawn from the gallery's trendy neighborhood populated by art conscious young business people, some of whom have been educated overseas.

"People with similar backgrounds form the bulk of the audience for China's contemporary art," Gao says. "And they make a conscious effort to introduce art to their next generation, in a more open-minded way."

Over the past decade Chinese art and artists have been making headlines in international auctions worldwide. Parallel to that is a phenomenal increase of art audiences inside the country, especially in big cities. Art museums and galleries, public and private, have ceased being the preserve of art professionals and started to be a public platform where ideas meet and clash.