In China, the royal dynasties and the prosperity, culture, and artistry that accompanied them are revered. A snippet of a golden age of history, each dynastic porcelain pottery or jade carving is handled with the utmost care. So when a Han Dynasty urn shattered to pieces, the loss of a 2,000-year-old artifact drew considerable anger — especially because the destruction was intentional.
The person responsible? Ai Weiwei — the infamous Chinese contemporary artist. In one of his most controversial artworks, “Dropping a Han Dynasty Urn”, three photographs depict Ai letting go of the urn and causing its ultimate demise, an action described by Guggenheim Bilbao Museum as “equivalent to tossing away an entire inheritance of cultural meaning about China.” But Ai is no stranger to controversy — his adversaries loathe his art and criticize its brashness, yet his proponents celebrate his work and interpret what others call brashness to be boldness.
So why does Ai’s art stir up such contrasting reactions? And what is his ultimate aim? The answer stems from the political spectacle his art creates and the norms he pushes, causing paradoxical relationships between his work and the definition of art, consumerist culture, and human rights. But while his artworks feed off absurdity and shock value, his recurring messages of freedom reveal the genuineness behind his ground-breaking visions.
A Background of Ai Weiwei’s Art and Reputation
In 1957, Ai’s father Ai Qing, a renowned poet known for criticizing the Chinese government, ran into rough waters when the regime sent him to a labor camp. Ai’s childhood was spent absorbing his father’s ideologies and the consequences of expressing them, which planted the seeds for his life’s work. According to the Smithsonian Magazine, Ai utilizes “sculpture, ready-mades, photography, performance, architecture, tweets and blogs” to shed light on human rights abuses and political failures in China. The same punchy and in-your-face vocalization resonates across all his artworks, attracting attention from people across the globe.
Just like his father, Ai’s creations repeatedly provoked the Chinese government to swarm at him like flies, accusing the artist of tax evasion, shackling him from travel — and even imprisoning him. Ai’s blacklisted status has granted him a Voldemort-like reputation, as most Chinese citizens turn mute at the mention of He Who Must Not Be Named.
But the government has not succeeded at permanently censoring Ai; instead, their efforts have actually backfired. In an interview with Christina Larson, an American journalist based in China, Ai reveals that he believes the behavior of the secret police has “created” him, “rather than solved the problems” he raises.
Magnet for Political and Artistic Controversy
In 2011, ArtReview named Ai as the most powerful artist in the world. However, Ai’s substantial base of followers is not entirely composed of fans as a vast chunk are strong critics. This backlash usually stems from two areas: anger at the content of his message and anger at the artistic delivery of his message. Ai’s work “Sunflower Seeds” serves as a prime recipient for both forms of controversy. The project features 100 million pieces of porcelain, each of which was hand-crafted and painted to resemble individual sunflower seeds, an effort that involved 1,600 Chinese craftsmen. The level of time and effort consumed and the excess amount of porcelain in the piece evoke criticism of the Communist Party’s propaganda — which commonly utilizes the sunflower as a symbol — and the monotonous and harsh labor practices that accompany China’s industrialization revolution.
When Ai unveiled “Sunflower Seeds,” he received a visceral reaction from both the Chinese government and the general Chinese public, as the black-and-white nature of “Sunflower Seeds” created a blunt edge that widened the gap between Ai and Chinese audiences. While regular citizens may not completely agree with everything the party proposes, a large majority of them remain devoted members. Consider how the government is tied to China’s economy: “Sunflower Seeds” focuses on the negatives of this economy, such as how cheap, factory-made objects have replaced original craftsmanship. Ai’s observation holds merit, but no one can deny that China’s economic performance has increased drastically under the Communist Party, supercharging the country’s international status and elevating the quality of life for a multitude of citizens.
The other half of backlash directed toward “Sunflower Seeds” comes from the artistic community, who criticize the means Ai takes to achieve his goals. Ai is a black sheep in the art world; in fact, Ai’s pieces may appear at first glance as a slew of strangely captured moments, mundane objects, and dysfunctional forms. Because Ai disrupts artistic norms, his work questions the very meaning of what art is supposed to be.
As stated in Beautiful Trouble’s toolbox for creative protest, “The right balance of art and message can move both hearts and minds. Striking this balance, however, can be difficult.” Other activist artists often focus on creating art first, but Ai holds his message above anything, ensuring that the satirical edges of his pieces burn with intensity. To critics, this translates to a thoughtless regard for artsmanship. Jed Pearl, an American art critic and author, wrote that “The crudity with which Ai connects creativity with action and action with art reflects a misunderstanding of the nature of modern art.”
While Ai may be lacking in the artistic skill department, Pearl’s perspective reveals a narrow interpretation of what counts as “art.” Indeed, pieces deemed “desirable” often display high technical skills, but non-physical proficiencies — such as creativity and ingenuity — are not so easily measured. Consequently, the value of artwork that does not showcase mastery in painting, sculpture, or beyond is hotly debated: We have all heard or said ourselves the phrase: “Even I could make that.” Further, because Ai’s art and his identity are intertwined, he is subject to ad hominem attacks that fuse the criticism and connotations attached to his works with questions about his morality and character.
Analyzing Ai Weiwei’s Creations Through the Spectacle
So if Ai’s art is not famous for its detailed forms or its attuned brushstrokes, what makes his artwork stand out from the sea of activism art? The Smithsonian Magazine provides a clue to Ai’s defining characteristic, describing him as a “visionary showman.” Indeed, Ai’s art communicates through extremes, forcing shock and other strong emotions.
At best, his pieces are thought-provoking, at worst, critics mandate that they are outright insane and intent only on stirring up anger and turmoil. His artistic process appears rushed and unstructured, pushing into the territory of absurdity with the force of a brazen bull. Such is the case with “Grass Mud Horse” — a photograph of Ai leaping into the air while semi-nude, holding a stuffed alpaca over his genitals — or “Fairytale” — a $4 million project in which Ai sent ordinary Chinese citizens to Germany to sit in Ming and Qing dynasty chairs.
A clue to this attention-capturing situation can be found in theorist and filmmaker Guy Debord’s 1967 book “The Society of the Spectacle,” which examines the “Spectacle,” a theory on the “everyday manifestation of capitalist-driven phenomena,” especially those concerning “advertising, television, film, and celebrity.” The shadows of spectacles exist everywhere, including within the frames of Ai’s pieces, reflecting the dominant values of consumerist and media-frenzied culture. Even though China is communist, sensationalization has taken over the world as mass media has boiled the nuance away from the human experience, leaving only easily-digestible, commodified chunks.
In his interview with the Smithsonian Magazine, Ai expressed his vehement dislike for the birth of Chinese consumerist culture, criticizing the increased wealth disparity that came with the establishment of the People’s Republic of China. “There was no justice or fairness in this society,” he recalled. But while he opposes the ethicality of industrialization, ironically, it is the consumerist mindset that helped bring his art into the limelight. Each of Ai’s pieces acts as a billboard, a headline, or an advertisement, seemingly turning the complex Chinese experience into shallow, eye-catching visuals.
But while Ai’s art may stoke emotions and attract attention similarly to the “Spectacle,” he is anything but a slave to it. Tiernan Morgan and Lauren Purje of the magazine “Hyperallergic” explain that the “Spectacle” acts as “a tool that reinforces the status quo and quells dissent.” So for those in power, including the government and large corporations, spectacles act as a flashy defense mechanism.
It is at this point where Ai’s art diverts, as at its core, he seeks to illuminate rather than distract. His art wears the facade of the “Spectacle,” as he squeezes real complexities into a representative symbol (like a sunflower seed or an urn). But digging deeper, it is this simplicity and boldness of the symbol that attracts the audience to the topic, allowing Ai to guide rather than force the viewer to reach their own interpretations and conclusions regarding power, culture, and values. Indeed, activist artist Nadine Bloch writes that cultural work can combat “the pervasive and demoralizing messages that individuals don’t count.” So Ai’s art actually acts as the antidote to the original “Spectacle” by seeking to beat those in power at their own game. Utilizing similar tactics to mass media and governmental messaging, he fights fire with fire, pits propaganda against propaganda, and constructs absurdities to reveal absurdities.
Freedom of Thought for the Future
Art is a two-way mechanism: The artist captures a message, an emotion, or concept, while the viewer forms their conclusions on the artistic meaning. So what happens once the ball enters our side of the court? His art encourages feelings from outrage to contemplation — feelings that are deeply fleshed out in the human experience, prompting us to “wake up.” Whether its beholder is a Chinese blue-collar worker or a student across the ocean, Ai’s art is an act of rebellion against the very fabric of life.
And it’s not just China — societies across the world have become content with their blissful ignorance toward current issues. As horrible as it is, we may read a poverty study, a gun violence statistic, a civil war-focused newspaper headline, and scroll on after just a few moments. Society’s empathy capacity reached its maximum a long time ago, blinding people to everyday atrocities. But seeing Ai’s art shocks us because the absurdity of it jolts us from our half-asleep cocoons. In seeking to understand the “why” and the “how” behind his art, we engage in open discussions around his correlating topics.
And that is Ai’s core purpose: to promote free thought and speech. On the homepage of his website is the saying: “Expressing oneself is a part of being human. To be deprived of a voice is to be told you are not a participant in society; ultimately it is a denial of humanity. ” Whether it be protesting the construction of a railroad to Tibet or examining the Wuhan COVID-19 lockdowns, Ai utilizes his artwork as a vessel that expresses his voice and the voices of others, prompting dialogue that channels focus and direct action toward under- or undiscussed issues. Because to remain silent is to stay complicit in human atrocities, and to speak is to acknowledge the problems that plague society.
Though he may appear cynical and suspicious, Ai remains hopeful for a better future. When looking at his piece “Fragments,” which utilizes ironwood from Qing-dynasty temples, from a birds-eye view, the wooden blocks form a map of China, signifying the rebuilding of a moralistic nation and the reviving of traditional values.
Political and Artistic Implications
So how do Ai’s beliefs fit into the worlds of politics and art? The simple answer is that Ai has reinforced the idea that art acts as an effective form of activism. The more complex answer requires consideration of the balance between resistance and oppression. Throughout history, each side has tipped the scale this way and that as the physical manifestations of the two words have evolved. Stephen Duncombe explains in his book, “Dream: Re-imagining Progressive Politics in an Age of Fantasy,” that in today’s hypermediated society, activists need to “enter the realm of spectacle” in order to create political change. So art can serve as the necessary tool for modern rebellions, giving activists the ability to paint their canvases with non-superficial spectacles.
Ai has intermeshed the role of an artist with those of martyr, visionary, and guard of conscience. In a world that is paradoxically fast-paced and hibernating, Ai carves out a nonrestrictive space for the shifting scales of activism and art. His work is a violent, brash, and raw propaganda of truth. It angers his opponents and sways the moderates, but most importantly, it makes individuals think, reflect, and care. In the larger sense, Ai’s true adversaries are not government officials and large corporations, but their tools of oppression: Fear, hesitation, and silence. As a result, Ai’s art serves as a symbol of the struggle within China, within the exchange of thoughts, and within the Society of the Spectacle.
However, this struggle is far from over. “They tell me, ‘You can never win this war,’” Ai recalled in an interview with the Smithsonian Magazine. But to Ai, it was never about “winning the war.” It was about the fight.
“As soon as you start to fight,” Ai said in an interview with The Guardian, “you have won.”
