Artist. Human Rights Activist. And subject of Chinese government surveillance. Ahead of the release of his documentary Human Flow in December, we thought we’d share why we’ve fallen in love with the government-censored artist and activist, Ai Weiwei.
Ai Weiwei is a Chinese-born artist, with a track record of activism and dissidence worthy of the status of “threat to harmonious society” bestowed upon him by the Chinese government. He has been physically beaten by authorities, detained under house arrest, and even had his newly established studio bulldozed – but Ai persists despite government histrionics.
Ai’s forthcoming documentary, Human Flow, debuted at the 74th Venice Film Festival on the 1st of September. The 140-minute film provides an eagle eye view of the refugee crises occurring across the globe. Amidst the myriad portrayals of the refugee crisis, his film is painted by The Guardian as the film that “comes closest to understanding the totality of the issue” , perhaps stemming from Ai’s personal experiences of displacement as a child during China’s Cultural Revolution.
Human Flow spans 23 countries, which is a feat in itself given the footage was snapped on Ai’s iPhone,
“I was on vacation with my son in Lesbos, we saw the boat approaching, I started using my iPhone and started shooting.”
The raw iPhone footage is paired with drone photography and professional cinematography to culminate in an eye-opening, empathetic view of the 65 million people currently displaced in the global refugee crisis.
Ai champions the use of film to document the historical atrocities occurring in our time,
“The refugee situation has such a long history, with such political complexity and the overwhelming situation, so the use of film is the right tool for myself to study the situation and to make a historical record of our time, our moment.”
Ai is no stranger to unearthing controversy: one of his most renowned installations Straight (2008-12) depicted an investigation into the deaths of over 5000 children in China following an earthquake in Sichuan. The installation consisted of steel reinforceed bars collected from the poorly constructed school buildings, arranged in waves to resemble the oscillations of an earthquake on a seismograph.
Ai shed light on this “national embarrassment”, employing his self-taught architectural knowledge to determine that this tragedy – a result of government corruption and negligence – was entirely avoidable. This investigation sparked the all-too-inevitable turbulence of Ai’s adversarial relationship with the Chinese government and authorities.
Human Flow, will undoubtedly gain similar political traction – but on a much wider, global scale. As was so poignantly highlighted in Ai’s 1995 piece Dropping a Han Dynasty Urn, the brave pioneer in geo-social politics operates on the firm belief that in order for society to progress, we must break the chains of the old world.
“General Mao used to tell us that we can only build a new world if we destroy the old one.”
Ai gives an almost romanticised portrayal of the crisis, supplementing the documentary with poetic quotes and religious scriptures to soften the onslaught of headlines and statistics. Some may be critical of this decision to dilute the seriousness of issue; however, we can’t help but feel this route is the key to instilling empathy from those not directly affected by the crisis.
Those of us safely nestled within the cushion of our inherited privilege are either willfully blind, naïve or ignorant of the conflict and crisis. It’s that ‘not in my backyard’ mind-set that propels society into a deeper shame-spiral, championed by the smug shield of the mainstream media. We’re spoon fed information only when it suits the political climate. We can’t or won’t bear witness to images of war torn refugees attempting to immigrate “illegally”; individuals and families that, according to our government, should be viewed as a threat to our way of life – much in the way that Ai Weiwei is viewed by the Chinese government.
An anonymous voice echoes this sentiment in the overture for Human Flow’s trailer,
“Being a refugee is much more than a political status, it is the most pervasive kind of cruelty that can be exercised against a human being. You are forcibly robbing this human being of all aspects that would make human life not just tolerable but meaningful in many ways.”
Ai never directly addresses the camera, instead using the film to plead directly to the EU to abide by its charter on refugees. Ai has dedicated his life’s work to unravel the perceived restraints and unbridled power of bureaucracy, to give the disenfranchised a voice. In so doing he has provided us with the evidence that the conflict between global governing bodies has indirectly resulted in the displacement of 65 million people. Now, more than ever, he makes it firmly our prerogative to lend a helping hand to our brethren in need.
Human Flow will be released in Australian cinemas on 7th December, 2017.
[…] more about Ai Weiwei and ‘Human Flow’ here. The Sydney Biennale opens on 16 March and runs until the 11th of […]