Physics and Metaphysics
The explosive installations,
actions, and drawings of Cai Guo-Qiang
99 wolves race
towards a glass wall. The animals leap in the air, pressing forward as
though they were about to crash into the wall. Head On is the title
of Cai Guo-Qiang’s dynamic installation, which is on show at the Deutsche
Guggenheim starting August 26, 2006. The work is accompanied by a
large-scale gunpowder drawing and the video projection of Illusion II. For
this spectacular action in the middle of Berlin, Cai had an entire house
blown up by brightly colorful fireworks. In her essay, Brigitte
Werneburg critically examines the Chinese art star’s work.
Preparation
of the installation "Head On", 2006, at Deutsche Guggenheim in Berlin
Photo:
Hiro Ihara, Courtesy Cai Studio
In early
July, a cute little one-family house was suddenly standing on the empty
lot at Anhalter
Bahnhof, built by the Babelsberg
Film Studios; on July 11, 2006, it became apparent that the house was
indeed meant to serve as a prop for a film – the day Cai
Guo-Qiang blew it up with a spectacular array of colorful fireworks
for his action Illusion II. Now, in his recently opened one-person
show Head
On at the Deutsche
Guggenheim in Berlin, the explosion can be seen in a wall-sized dual
projection.
Illusion
II: Explosion Project, Berlin 2006
Photo:
Hiro Ihara, Courtesy Cai Studio
While the
Chinese artist, who has been living and working in New York since 1995,
spoke of the conflict the spectacle evokes as his audience experiences
"both the beauty and destruction of the fireworks," these same viewers
appeared quite relaxed as they enjoyed their Prosecco and hors d’oeuvres.
And they weren’t entirely wrong in their amused curiosity. As Europeans,
fireworks still symbolize the Baroque spirit to them, the purest way of
celebrating the art of squandering. Each bang and spark-spewing, colorful
constellation costs money that everyone and everything depends on and
that’s being simply pulverized here. And we still – today very
democratically – love the showy expenditure of fireworks, which, to the
point of absurdity, nullify any questions concerning cost, purpose, and
utility.
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Cai Guo-Qiang Berlin 2006,
Photo
Mathias Schormann,
©Deutsche Guggenheim, Cai Guo-Qiang
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The beauty of fireworks derives from a pleasure in the
thing itself, the magnificent rain of fire whose artful choreography
transcends the profane appearance of violence and destruction. It is an
attitude that springs from European thought. When gunpowder made its way
from China to Europe in the late 13th century, it was only used for
decorative fireworks after being implemented in warfare. It was above all
during the Baroque period that firework displays were put on as regular
theatrical events. Craftsmen built complete architectural replicas and
artists skillfully painted props as fire workers brought countless
serpents, rockets, and cherry bombs into position. Dragons represented the
attackers and, led by a string, slithered to the fortress to unleash a
carefully planned chain reaction. Then, ear-splitting cherry bombs were
detonated, pinwheels spun their tracks of light across the sky, and
serpents flew out to confound the enemy. In the end, the enemy’s
stronghold was blown up to the deafening sound of thunder – just like at
Anhalter Bahnhof, because Illusion II, which premiered in Berlin,
is an inescapable part of this tradition.
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Illusion II: Explosion Project, Berlin 2006
Photo:
Hiro Ihara, Courtesy Cai Studio
When the
artist, who was born in 1957 in Quanzhou, decided in 1981 to study at the theater
academy in Shanghai, he came into contact with European theater
tradition, which also draws on the Baroque love of spectacle. In contrast
with that of the art academies, the program at the theater academy was
capable of carrying on an international dialogue. The discussions were
conceptual in nature, as Cai Guo-Qiang recalls. Along with practical
instruction ranging from the initial proposal to budget planning,
production, and finally the performance itself, the discussions over the
set, the use of light, and above all the treatment of space and time were
crucial to Cai’s artistic development.
Illusion
II: Explosion Project, Berlin 2006
Photo:
Maria Morais
When he finished his studies,
Cai Guo-Qiang initially immersed himself in oil painting. He had already,
however, begun working with the material that was to continue to determine
his artistic work for some time and that would bind him to his Chinese
heritage: gunpowder. Cai implemented it as a kind of random factor in
order to influence the form and color in his oil paintings. At this point
in time, in 1986, he received a travel grant for Japan, which took him to
a country that had over the course of centuries developed its own great
tradition of fireworks. While in China gunpowder was a waste product of
alchemical experiments in search of new cures, and hence called "fire
medicine," the Japanese term hana-bi,
"Flowers of Fire," clearly underlines the aesthetic aspect, which seems
more related to the Western view.
Exploding
House: Project for Deutsche Guggenheim Berlin, 2006,
Collection
of the artist, © Cai Guo-Qiang
In their
site-specific nature, the Gunpowder Drawings and firework performances
that Cai developed in Japan had far more in common with the notion of
"fire medicine." But they also kindled a spark in their Japanese audience,
with their great reverence for the tradition of hana-bi. The
interest Cai’s work met with here might have proved puzzling, because
Cai’s fire art had nothing whatsoever to do with the ordinary image of
fire flowers. But Cai Guo-Qiang attained a measure of success in Japan
with one fundamental idea of his artistic work: using the strength of his
opponent in accordance with the teachings of Asian martial arts. Cai, who
played in martial
arts films as a young man, returned to this again and again; he often
mentions that he borrows the energy for his works from nature.
Cai
Guo-Qiang, Transient Rainbow, New York, 2002,
©Deutsche
Guggenheim, © Cai Guo-Qiang
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