Ai Weiwei: According to What?

The confluence of art and politics that so characterizes Ai Weiwei’s oeuvre is on full display in this retrospective exhibit (so much so that knowledge of Ai’s various roles as dissident, agitator, and artist is like the exhibit’s admission ticket). Indeed, to appreciate his work is to first know the man; and, to know the man is to always have his struggle with the Chinese authorities in mind. That struggle, which Ai has carried on most intensely since 2008, at times, results in variably overt or less direct jabs; but, seemingly, a statement is ever present.
For example, in the aftermath of the great Sichuan Earthquake of 2008, when thousands of school children perished in shoddily built school buildings, an outraged Ai gathered the names of the victims in an engrossing piece entitled, «Names of Student Earthquake Victims Found by the Citizens’ Investigation,» which at the Hirshhorn, takes up an entire second floor wall. As a scathing indictment, the more than 5,000 names cry out figuratively and literally as bureaucratic Chinese characters record the names of the dead and a stark recorded voice (a separate work entitled, «Remembrance»), reading the names, plays eerily in the background.

A related piece, called «Snake Ceiling,» continues the protestation. Made from identical black, white, and green interlocking backpacks, like those favored by school children, the work ostensibly forms a giant snake (one that hangs from the ceiling above the aforementioned names and that twists and coils menacingly through an adjoining hallway).

«Straight» features a huge pile of rusted steel rebar that was collected from the twisted rubble of the school buildings. The pile, which meanders on the gallery floor, features rolling bumps, rises, and fissures. At once, the sculpture can be read as a representation of the earthquake itself across a broken surface of land or as a disturbing seismic record of the event.
Other works quarrel not with the government’s indifference to its people but with its disregard for the past and what is lost in China’s now rapid growth. This is seen most famously in Ai’s photographic triptych, «Dropping a Han Dynasty Urn,» which captures, in three panels, images of him holding an urn, dropping it, and standing over it as it is smashed in irreverent pieces on the ground.

A series of Han Dynasty vases, just in front of the three photos, called appropriately, «Colored Vases,» feature 16 ancient vases that have been dipped into various hues of bombastic industrial paint. Another vase, dating further back to Neolithic times (between 3,000 to 5,000 BC), has the familiar Coca-​Cola script painted on it as an update.
Many other works comment on this defiling of the past in more subtle ways. A number of them showcase Ai’s craftsmanship as he reworks dark, burgundy Tieli wood gathered from dismantled Qing Dynasty temples. One such work, entitled, «Map of China» is a four feet tall surface cutout of the country made from joined columns of wood. «China Log,» which also is made from meticulously joined columns, appears to be a long pillar; but, upon peering down its cross section, a cutout of China again can be seen where a circular hole might otherwise have stretched lengthwise into the interior.
Throughout the exhibition, more straightforward artworks dot the assembled galleries. These occupy the more subtle end of the spectrum and capture Ai in a less politically overt mood. «Moon Chest,» «Cube in Ebony,» «Grapes,» and «Teahouse» all highlight Ai’s artistic sensibilities first and foremost as he takes, in turn, huali wood, rosewood, wooden stools, and compressed tea leaves and transforms them into beautifully minimalistic works that can be appreciated without much of a political backstory or a heightened awareness of his biography. «Cube Light,» one of the more popular works in the exhibition, is a towering illuminated cube made from panels of golden glass crystals. Here, Ai’s artistic vision, with a wash of golden light condensing into the room, is most clearly on display.
The exhibition, taken in its entirety, is an absorbing and time consuming account of one of the world’s foremost artists. The casual, walk-​in-​off-​the-​National Mall-​museum-​goer may find «According to What?» to be a head-​scratcher and a convenient excuse to hurry across the street to the Air and Space Museum. However, for those inclined to fathom the exhibition’s messages, contradictions, and absurdities, the payoff can be rewarding.