Ai Weiwei, Bicycle Chandelier, 2015.
Photo courtesy of Royal Academy of Arts, London. Photography by Dave Parry
Son of the poet Ai Qing, raised in political exile and most well known for getting in trouble with the Chinese government, Ai Weiwei is China’s most recognisable artist and activist. His notorious political views have led him to being arrested multiple times, detained in a secret prison, and having his passport confiscated by the Chinese government. Most recently he also discovered bugging devices in his Beijing studio. This exhibition at the Royal Academy in London has been one of the most anticipated exhibitions of 2015 and marks the first time Weiwei has been able to attend one of his own shows since 2011.
Ai Weiwei’s style cannot be recognised as an immediately discernable motif. A vast range of media and methods of production are employed in his work, from curatorial projects, to sculpture and installations to utilising the language of social media as a tool for artistic expression. The unity lies in his agenda, the meaning and intent for his art as “a force for change.” For all its references to conceptualism and minimalism, his work is rooted in his personal experiences and is emblematic of all the socio-political changes that are unfolding across China today.
Ai Weiwei, Dropping a Han Dynasty Urn, 1995. Courtesy of Ai Weiwei StudioI
Each one of Weiwei’s works has a rich and often imposing physicality in their sheer scale and heaviness. The spaces are filled with seductive textures and material qualities: perfectly glazed porcelain, expanses of marble, smoothly carved jade, compressed tea leaves and illuminated crystals. Many of these materials are significant to Chinese culture and are often applied with a range of traditional and culturally specific craft techniques. There is a somewhat mulish lack of subtlety to the impressive scale, bold metaphoric references and astute use of tongue-in-cheek humour within Ai Weiwei’s work. This is perhaps overcompensating for his experiences against the limitations the Chinese government imposed on him, along with the widespread state control over art and culture, which left no room for freedom of expression.
Ai Weiwei, Table and Pillar, 2002. Image courtesy Ai Weiwei
Processes of reclaiming, restoring and reconfiguring are implicit throughout his works. The installation “Fragments” is made from salvaged pillars and beams of tieli, a type of Chinese ironwood, from demolished Qing dynasty temples. The tieli objects are built into an overarching structure that looks like an assemblage of dead trees with various stems and inter-linking branches. The anchored poles mark out the borders of a map of China. Viewers are invited to walk across and underneath this dystopian forest; metaphorically crossing the country with a freedom of movement that many Chinese citizens are denied.
Ai Weiwei, Straight, 2008-12. Image courtesy Ai Weiwei
Ai Weiwei taking a photograph of his installation Coloured Vases, Royal Academy of Arts, 2015.
Photo courtesy of Royal Academy of Arts, London. Photography by Dave Parry
The most striking piece in the exhibition is “Straight”, which is made up of 90 tons of steel rebar used to reinforce concrete collected from collapsed buildings of the Sichuan earthquake in May 2008. Each rod of rebar has been ritualistically straightened by hand; a project that took years to complete. The rusty metal rods make up a dense and disjointed terrain laid out across the floor. There is a calming aura about the silent waves that evoke a quintessential image of a Chinese Zen landscape painting. The surrounding walls of the gallery are covered in the 5250 names of the children who died during the earthquake as a result of the substandard buildings; and this would have seemed mawkish had this information not been suppressed by the Chinese government. “Straight” acts as a poetic memorial and presentation of how sculpture can be politically engaged.
Ai Weiwei with his installation Straight, Royal Academy of Arts, 2015. Photo courtesy of Royal Academy of Arts, London. Photography by Dave Parry
Ai Weiwei’s artwork has been criticised for not matching up to his celebrity status and reputation as a symbol of political dissidence. These critics argue that the role of an artist and that of an activist cannot overlap. However, this exhibition offers both Weiwei’s activist “mode” and his aesthetic brilliance, presenting art as a manifesto. In his words art is “an announcement of a new position or a justification, or to identify the possible conditions.” The ambition that drives his extensive projects and the invitations to open-ended site specific commissions allow him to realise his visions and are all opportunities for furthering the process of change.
Ai Weiwei, Coloured Vases, 2006. Courtesy of Ai Weiwei Studio
“Bicycle chandelier”, a cascading configuration of bicycle wheels, crystals and lights is a fitting end piece to the exhibition. The country’s most popular brand since 1940, Forever Bicycles, are a symbol of individual freedom, but are now scarcely seen on the streets of Shanghai. This radiant spiralling form could be read as a cornucopia or a vision of hope. Ai Weiwei reminds us of the Russian constructivist’s utopian ambitions for a brave new world, embodied in physical structures and amazing architectural features that would match the new age. His imaginary constructions enhance our critical understanding of situations in present day China.
Ultimately, Ai Weiwei poses the question “what if…?” inviting us to think how our current conditions (along with the positions of artist and activist) can be reinterpreted, reshaped and reinvented.
Text by Naomi Ellis
Ai Weiwei is on display at the Royal Aca
demy of Art until 13 December
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