“The godfather of Chinese contemporary art”, Ai Weiwei is also an activist who has, over decades, “documented the failures and excesses” of the Chinese Communist Party, said Tim Smith-Laing in the Financial Times.
He has been imprisoned, kept under house arrest and, eventually, exiled. Earlier this month, for a one-off performance piece at his new show in Manchester’s Aviva Studios, Ai re-enacted a full 24 hours of his 81-day detention inside a replica cell.
‘Best at enormous scale’
“This is an artist for whom risk has real meaning. His courage and achievements are nothing short of extraordinary,” said Smith-Laing. So I walked into the cavernous hall where “Button Up!” is being held “ready to be moved and awed”. Instead, “I found myself mostly unmoved and underwhelmed”.
Everything is on a vast scale. The giant mural “History of Bombs” is made up of 3.5 million Lego bricks. The sculpture “La Commedia Umana” is a chandelier made from 2,000 pieces of glass, shaped like human body parts. The room is “like something out of Piranesi’s prisons: indescribably vast, its ceiling and far walls disappearing into darkness and simultaneously crammed and scattered with objects that were all out of scale”. But big art is not necessarily good art.
Ai’s art always works “best at enormous scale”, said Eddy Frankel in The Guardian. It’s most effective when “blown up, expanded, shoved in your face”. And, in this sense, the artist doesn’t disappoint. Spread across one wall is “a giant inflatable dinghy” filled with figures in lifejackets. It’s not a good-looking piece of art, “but it makes a point, and makes it loudly”: if you think you can ignore the refugee crisis, think again.
‘Heavy-handed’ symbolism
Elsewhere, “house-sized flags” sewn from hundreds of thousands of buttons represent the emblems of the multinational alliance – Britain, the US, Japan, France, Germany, Italy, Russia and the Austrian-Hungarian empire – that invaded China in 1900. The flags hang heavy, as if “weighed down by history and its continuing impact”. “Not everything here is that good, sadly.” There are some questionable exhibits and, at many moments – with Lego bombs or the migrant boat on Hokusai’s great wave – “the symbolism is so heavy-handed it feels as if Banksy did it”.
Ai “has never excelled in nuance”, said Cal Revely-Calder in The Telegraph, and the work on show is certainly anything but subtle. Sometimes, this works: the most “affecting” thing here is a serene re-creation of a Ming-era temple, reconstructed in its entirety. But all too often the effects are “superficial and brief”.
Throughout, Ai rails against “the murky legacies of the West”, and his sallies on big topics such as “colonisation, refugees, war” are presumably intended to make the visitor “feel guilt”. Yet his work lacks any “second dimension”, and its worthy messages frequently come across as simplistic. “Meaningful politics seems to escape Ai Weiwei. So does meaningful art.”
Aviva Studios, Manchester. Until 6 September