Paper lanterns, 2012
When the Chinese government surrounded his Caochangdi studio with 15 surveillance cameras, Ai Weiwei suggested that it had become the most intensely observed location in the city. In response, he suspended a red paper lantern from each camera. Their vision was not obstructed by the lanterns, but their presence became obvious.
Tim Marlow, preparing with Weiwei at the time for a landmark exhibition at the Royal Academy in London, described the gesture as “the most gentle of subversions.” Weiwei also placed a bunch of cut flowers in the basket of a bicycle outside his studio every morning – a poetic way to measure the time he spent waiting for his passport to be returned, and his freedom restored.
Weiweicam, 2012
One year after he was detained without explanation, Weiwei began broadcasting live from four cameras positioned inside his home. Even after his release, he was subject to extreme digital and physical surveillance. Weiweicam mocked this insatiable interest in his life – exposing innocuous moments spent eating, reading and sleeping.
With the cameras, Weiwei allowed authorities to access the only parts of his life that they couldn’t already. He considered the project an act of reassurance, equally valuable to those suspicious of him as his sympathisers. The website was promptly censored. By doing so, the Chinese government revealed that their appetite for information was superseded by their desire to control its source.
I believe that all people are very curious – regardless of whether they are my friends, or people who don’t like me.
Ai Weiwei
455 Hansel & Gretel, 2017
In 2017, Weiwei collaborated with architects Herzog & de Meuron to create an immersive installation in New York City. Following previous collaborations, including the 2012 Serpentine Pavilion, 455 Hansel & Gretel (named after the famous Brothers Grimm fable) probed the shifting nature of public space in modern cities.
Drone-mounted infrared cameras stalked visitors as they muddled through the cavernous, unlit interior of Park Avenue Armory. As well as being broadcast in a separate space for others to watch, live footage was projected onto the floor along with breadcrumb-like trails and menacing crosshairs. With these disorientating layers of observation and interaction, Weiwei juxtaposed covert surveillance with our propensity for performance in moments of self-perception.
Vandalism, 2024
Last month, a vandal destroyed Weiwei’s sculpture, Porcelain Cube, during the private opening of his exhibition at Palazzo Fava in Bologna, Italy. The act was inadvertently captured by the gallery’s CCTV cameras. Weiwei shared the video footage on Instagram alongside a photo of the broken sculpture.
I felt it was a pity, as the artwork had been incredibly difficult to create. It required numerous attempts and a lot of experiments to produce. Only true connoisseurs of the Yuan and Ming dynasties can appreciate the effort and style.
Ai Weiwei
Mask, 2024
Toying with the evolving character of surveillance – its ubiquity, its shift into digital realms and our willingness to perform for it – Weiwei spent a tranquil morning in Berlin, disguised as himself. He wore a leather mask inspired by Chinese opera, where yellow traditionally signifies malevolence or deception. While Weiwei’s experiences are specific and extreme, we can all relate to the tumult of being perceived. What role do power and voyeurism play in the act of looking, and the experience of being looked at?
To Be Looked At...
Our latest collaboration with Ai Weiwei is an aluminium sculpture designed to resemble a bank of CCTV cameras. In a domestic setting the artwork echoes – symbolically – his own acts of self-surveillance.
All artworks courtesy of Ai Weiwei
Mask
4 September 2024, Berlin
Videography · Tim Craig, Mike Iles
Music · Pierry Jaquillard
