[AI WEIWEI: NEVER SORRY screens Wednesday September 4th at 7:00 pm at the Cleveland Museum of Art. Admission is free.]
Review
by Bob Ignizio
If an American artist were to say
something critical about their government, they might have to
endure being chastised by some grandstanding politician. If they
had any funding from the NEA they'd probably lose it, and maybe a few
galleries would refuse to show their work. In China, an artist who
criticizes the government risks surveillance, arrest, beatings by the
police, maybe even being thrown in jail for life. One artist who has
taken such risks and (at least at present) remains free to talk about
it is Ai Weiwei, the subject of the documentary AI WEIWEI: NEVER
SORRY.
Like
much
modern art, Ai's work tends to be highly conceptual, the sort of work
those who prefer more traditional art might dismiss – things
like painting over antique vases and making millions of stone sun
flower seeds, for example. However, seeing the power of Ai's pieces
to not only get a rise out of the Chinese government but also
influence regular Chinese people might give even the most ardent
hater of modern art a little more appreciation for what it can do.
When you live in a country like China and one of your most famous
pieces is a photo in which you “flip the bird” at Tienanmen
Square (which you can see on the poster above), that's an act of
courage. Even more courageous are the
various ways Ai has tried to investigate and commemorate the school
children who were victims of the Sichuan earthquake, and it is likely
this work in particular that ultimately gets him into trouble.
Whether
Ai's artwork resonates with viewers personally or not, director
Alison Klayman's documentary is a highly entertaining and
informative film that follows the artist from 2008 to 2010 as he
keeps pushing boundaries, eventually finding where the limits are.
The film provides both sufficient biographical information about its
subject as well as insight into what drives him and what he's hoping
to achieve. To this end there are plenty of the usual “talking
heads” one expects, but Klayman keeps things from getting dull by
balancing that with footage of the artist at work and living his day
to day life, including a few confrontations with Chinese police. The
portrait of the artist that emerges is of an optimist who still
believes in working through the system, even when one's efforts are
doomed to fail. As Wei says, “You can't just say the system is
broken and give up. Then it's your fault. You must show how it's
broken.” 3 1/2 out of 4 stars.
Turns out that the best thing for fueling passion in art may be repression. Good film, indeed -- thanks for the review~! Agreed on typical American response.
ReplyDelete