In all honesty, how many of you, dear Culture section readers, marked the ending of the analogue television signal last Thursday with anything more than an under-the-breath muttering as you tried to look bleary-eyed for Holly and Philip? I'm going to guess (based on conjecture and absolutely no scientific fact) that it wasn't very many of you; proportionally fewer (based on regional location and age demographic) than will visit Remote Control, currently on display at the ICA.

The exhibition, which explores the role of pre-digitalised television and its relationship to the visual arts, was timed to coincide with this passing. It's a smart act, and it's a smart exhibition. Continuing a run of form that has seen the institution look at both organised and freeform (and, admittedly yes, disorganised) movements that have had widespread affect on trends in artistic practice, this exhibition brings together the work of over thirty artists, who either use/d pre-digital techniques as their mode of production or who explore/d what creating and distributing art during that period meant. Depsite only having a mainstream lifetime of around sixty years, analogue television has had an indelible effect on how people see and comprehend. It can be argued that it changed human nature.

With a digital signal now in effect, audiences are able to participate further in the act of viewing and are party to more available choice. Alongside this show, the ICA have implemented an extensive events programme, including a list of some of Because Magazine's favourite young artists: AutoItalia and the ubiquitous LuckyPDF, which is worth the cost of admission alone (it's free). The analogue cut-off being only last week, and its demise a rather damp squib, it is hard to feel excited by the concept of the show. Timing, they say, is everything and the dust hasn't yet settled on the notions raised by the show, despite it being fundamental in a particular discourse of moving image work. Too soon, perhaps? Do get involved nevertheless; so that when the time does come you can say that you 'were there'.

Remote Control is at the ICA until 10 June.

It's not particularly common that Conceptual Art is thought-provoking, aesthetically pleasing and utterly desirable. Much less often does it engage a viewer with a cheeky sense of humour. The fact that the work of Hans-Peter Feldmann covers all of these points makes him a great asset to contemporary visual art. Serpentine Gallery have a new show of work by the German artist, and it is the perfect opener to what will be a series of summer blockbusters in the park.

Like many of his contemporaries (names including Joseph Beuys and Gerhard Richter), Feldmann came to international prominence in the 1970s; his pre-occupation is in the collection, categorisation, organisation and presentation of common, everyday objects. Systematic and thorough re-organisation of photographs of (generally assumed to be) the banal detritus of daily visual culture displayed across booklets, magazines, books, postcards and installation developed Feldmann's continued interest in slowing time down; using the visual tools of the daily grind, chronicled in the most expansive manner.

For this show at Serpentine Gallery, Feldmann presents works from across his entire career, as well as two new works never shown in the UK. The first extends Feldmann's curiosity in the significance of the ordinary: The artist bought a number of ladies' handbags, paying upto €400 upon approaching them on the street. In the gallery he presents their contents in vitrines and on plinths, in traditional museological display. The second, the series Seascapes, collection fifteen oils painted in the classical sense, displayed in traditional frames.

Feldmann has become one of the most significant contemporary artists working today, with exhibitions including documenta 5, documenta 6 and the 2003 and 2009 Venice Biennali. In 2010 he was the winner of the Hugo Boss Prize and for his winning exhibition at the Guggenheim, New York, he cashed his $100,000 dollar prize in single-dollar bills and pinned every dollar on the walls. An artist who truly understand Conceptualism, this is dismantling every structure you think you know about art, one white cube at a time.

Hans-Peter Feldmann is at Serpentine Gallery until 05 June.

It's not often your Culture section advises you to put on your shoes and get down to something as a matter of urgency but, dear Reader, put on your shoes and get down to Stephen Friedman Gallery with a matter of urgency. Closing on Saturday is their latest exhibition, a series of large-scale canvasses by the Chinese artist Li Tianbing.

Li is regarded as one of the leading Chinese painters of his generation. Stephen Friedman Gallery present eight of them (and if they haven't all sold already my jaw will break as it hits the ground). The paintings are abstracted portraits in which Li reminisces on his childhood and the effect of China's one-child rule. The portraits are captured oneiric moments, and the through the litany of white noise and cultural detritus there is something captivating behind in the eyes of the children, Li's subjects. I'm not quite sure if it's magic or something even less definable. I'd hate to think it might be anything else.

But that possibility remains, dear Reader. Trained in Paris, Li's technique is deft, classical and rooted in a modernist style that is nearly impossible to find executed at such a level of proficiency. Li's childhood in China went largely unrecorded; cameras were valuable items and were beyond common reach of his family. If these paintings represent his memories, even in any small measure, they're beautiful and as haunting and all the better for it.

Li Tianbing is at Stephen Friedman Gallery until this Saturday, 21 April.