“Honestly, I believe the building is rather pointless,” stated Ai Weiwei in mid-October as he conversed outside his new studio, a striking wood-framed edifice nearing its final stages of construction in a desolate expanse of scrubland in the Portuguese countryside. The activist-artist, who already possesses two studios in Beijing and Berlin, expressed, “I don’t require another studio. I’m erecting one above my residence here, approximately an hour southeast of Lisbon in the rural Alentejo region—a sprawling 30,000 square feet of open-plan area surrounding a central courtyard.”
Underneath a construction crane, 100 sturdy wood pillars ascend to meet a complex lattice of wooden beams overhead, meticulously notched into position without the use of nails or adhesives, following the ancient principles of traditional Chinese joinery. The structure, envisioned by Ai, transcends conventional architecture to embody something more intrinsic. “In China, we don’t refer to individuals as architects; we call them ‘big cabinetry’ or ‘small cabinetry,’” he elaborated. “In ‘big cabinetry,’ you construct houses; in ‘small cabinetry,’ you craft furniture—utilizing the same technique. It’s an archaic form of communication… pieced together. To me, it resembles more of a game.”
The new studio deviates from its Shanghai predecessor in one aspect—Ai adjusted the orientation of the gable roof, presenting significant construction challenges and embodying a “subversive” aesthetic quality that he appears to relish. “It’s not meant to function in that manner,” he remarked.
Before relocating to Portugal three years ago, Ai, aged 66, China’s renowned dissident artist—currently unable to return to his homeland for fear of potential detainment by authorities—resided in Berlin, where he settled in 2015 following his release from house arrest in Beijing and the return of his confiscated passport by the Communist regime. Now, he has traded the urban bustle for the serene tranquility of this sparsely populated corner of Portugal. “I used to relish the fast pace. Now, I savor the leisurely pace,” he reflected on the shift in scenery and lifestyle.
Despite the seclusion, as an emblem of free speech and a vocal figure on social media whose statements occasionally provoke more than just the Chinese authorities, Ai’s life continues to whirl at a relentless speed. Last autumn, amidst the conflict engulfing Israel and the Gaza Strip, Ai weighed in on the situation on X (formerly Twitter), highlighting what he perceived as the influence of American Jews on U.S. support for Israel, sparking a global controversy. In response, Ai’s London gallery, Lisson, indefinitely postponed a forthcoming exhibition of his artworks scheduled to debut in November.
The studio’s framework will be entirely crafted from timber using ancient joinery techniques that eschew nails, glue, or other hardware. However, due to the roof’s deviation from its axis, Ai explained that the building’s distinctive form “has never been witnessed in Chinese architectural tradition.”
Ai’s latest 30,000-square-foot studio, situated adjacent to his residence, closely mirrors his Shanghai studio, which was demolished by Chinese authorities upon completion. Rooted in traditional Chinese architectural principles, the frame comprises timber, the roof features clay tiles, and the floor is laid with stone.
Over the years, Ai has critiqued Israeli government policies towards Palestinians, the U.S.-Mexico border wall, the United Kingdom’s Brexit decision, as well as leaders like Vladimir Putin and Donald Trump. His critique of German society post his departure from Berlin—characterizing a prevalent “authoritarian mindset” and xenophobia, and even likening it to “Nazism existing in German daily life today”—sparked a vehement backlash in the German media. Despite the repercussions, Ai maintains, “I have no regrets.”
Portugal has offered a semblance of refuge from the limelight, allowing him to express his unfiltered thoughts in interviews and social media posts. Drawn to Portugal by its abundant sunshine, attractive real estate prices, and a “golden visa” program granting expats easy access to European Union residency upon investment in the country, Ai acquired a 40-acre property, a former vacation home of a lawyer, during his first visit in 2019. “It was a spontaneous decision, unplanned,” he disclosed. “I didn’t even study the map to locate it.”
Intrigued by the property’s history and artifacts left behind by the previous owners, Ai, along with three assistants, has spent periods of the Covid-19 lockdown at the residence, immersing himself in the remnants of another’s life. “It was fascinating to observe how he adapted to the house’s circumstances,” remarked Philippe Vergne, director of the Serralves Museum in Porto, Portugal.
To enhance the tranquility of the surroundings, Ai introduced pets to the property, including a cat from Berlin and an adopted one, along with potted plants and a decorative tub housing koi fish in the courtyard, and a large birdcage accommodating a pair of turacos on the back veranda. “We required some vitality here,” he remarked.
Despite the dearth of art within the house, the presence of one of Ai’s iconic works, a Lego rendition of his early masterpiece Dropping a Han Dynasty Urn, adorning a hallway, serves as a focal point for visiting TV crews. “I prefer not to gaze upon my artwork,” he remarked.
Ai embarked on planning his Portugal studio a few months after his arrival, with plans to potentially shift some fabrication operations from Berlin and Beijing to Portugal in the future. However, the new structure also symbolizes an end in itself. “I felt the need to create something here to establish a sense of belonging,” he expressed.
A polymath and autodidact, Ai transcends conventional artistic boundaries, delving into conceptual art, documentary filmmaking, and architecture. His multifaceted creations, blending aesthetics with profound activist statements, often surmount significant logistical obstacles.
“He’s an indefatigable figure, possessing extraordinary energy and a remarkable ability to operate on multiple fronts,” remarked Greg Hilty, partner and curatorial director at Lisson. “He approaches everything with a rational, intuitive perspective.”
In 2010, Ai captivated audiences by filling London’s Tate Modern Turbine Hall with 100 million porcelain sunflower seeds, meticulously handcrafted by 1,600 Chinese artisans—a commentary on global trade and the omnipresence of “made in China” exports. Addressing the global refugee crisis, his 2019 piece Life Vest Snake wove an immense serpent from life vests retrieved from the Greek isle of Lesbos.
His recent outdoor sculpture, cast in iron from a mold crafted from a towering tree in the Brazilian rainforest, featured in an exhibition spotlighting deforestation at the Serralves Museum. This project stemmed from a discussion with Vergne about showcasing Ai’s architectural endeavors. “I admired the way he redirected my proposal,” Vergne acknowledged. “When I mentioned a show on his architecture, he shared a photo of this tree, stating, ‘This is architecture, this is a temple.’”
Ai transforms everyday objects from ancient and contemporary realms into intricate artworks, carpeting museum floors with Stone Age tools or porcelain teapot spouts, and welding bicycle frames to craft towering sculptures. His acquisition of a substantial collection of buttons, representing the entire history of buttons, from a defunct British factory led to contemplation on a new body of work centered on the Industrial Revolution.
In 2014, he unveiled his initial Lego creations, portraits of 176 prisoners of conscience and human rights advocates worldwide, including prominent figures like Nelson Mandela and Martin Luther King Jr., rendered with meticulous detail. “It’s only 40 colors,” Ai remarked. “Can you believe it creates a very intricate image?”
Initially showcased at Alcatraz, the former San Francisco Bay prison, these works now reside in the permanent collection of the Hirshhorn Museum in Washington, D.C. “The portraits appear pixelated, reflecting the digital era we inhabit,” noted Hirshhorn director Melissa Chiu.
Ai has expanded his Lego repertoire to encompass iconic Western artworks, infusing his mischievous flair into classic pieces. His rendition of Monet’s Water Lilies, composed of 650,000 Lego bricks and displayed at the Design Museum in London, exemplifies his creative approach.
Documenting his works in progress and his surroundings meticulously on film and video has paved the way for a burgeoning career in documentary filmmaking. His 2017 feature Human Flow, focusing on the global refugee crisis, was shot over a year in 23 countries. Amidst the pandemic, he supervised the production of three poignant documentaries highlighting the coronavirus outbreak in Wuhan, the pro-democracy movement in Hong Kong, and the plight of Rohingya refugees in Bangladesh. Currently in post-production, his latest project, Animality, in collaboration with animal welfare organization Four Paws International, features footage exposing animal abuse. “It may not be a pleasant watch,” Ai acknowledged. “But I consider it essential.”
Ai’s fascination with architecture traces back to his childhood captivation with the materials and rationale behind the built environment surrounding him. Engaging in communal labor at the tender age of 10, learning to craft bricks, he found fulfillment amidst the challenges. “I undertook various arduous tasks during my youth,” he reminisced. “I relished them all, as they presented a challenge. Initially unmanageable, once conquered, they brought immense joy.”
Raised in a challenging environment, as depicted in his memoir 1,000 Years of Joys and Sorrows published in 2021, Ai is set to release another memoir, Zodiac, in graphic novel format this January, illustrated by Italian political cartoonist Gianluca Costantini. The book intertwines his personal narrative with that of his father, Ai Qing, a renowned Chinese poet.
Ai Qing, hailed as a literary luminary during the Communist revolution post-World War II, faced a tumultuous journey during the Cultural Revolution, enduring exile to a desolate region on the fringes of the Gobi Desert with his family. Amidst dire circumstances, their abode was a mere pit in the ground. “I matured in silence—we lacked even birds in our vicinity,” Ai Weiwei recollected. “Music? Electricity was a luxury. Water was scarce… I can scarcely fathom how we endured.”
Following Mao’s demise in 1976, Ai Qing underwent a public renaissance, now revered as a literary giant, akin to a Chinese Walt Whitman. The harrowing years of adversity endured by his family were conveniently glossed over. “That 20-year period of suffering is conveniently overlooked,” Ai Weiwei lamented.
Despite his father’s prowess as a painter and poet, Ai Weiwei never contemplated an artistic career during his youth. “In our era, artists were labeled ‘art workers,’ merely serving the propaganda department,” he elucidated. “Independence was nonexistent. Individuality was absent.”
Venturing to the U.S. in his early twenties, Ai immersed himself in the vibrant art scene of New York City, abandoning painting for conceptual art after producing offbeat portraits of Mao. Influenced by luminaries like Andy Warhol and Marcel Duchamp, he delved into photography, capturing the essence of his bohemian lifestyle in the East Village, mingling with personalities like Allen Ginsberg. “I was convinced my life held little significance back then, but the photos carry weight,” he reflected.
Upon learning of his father’s declining health in 1993, Ai returned to China after over a decade abroad, delving into the country’s past through visits to flea markets and antique stores, amassing relics that would later form the foundation of his extensive collection. “Unfamiliar with our heritage, this period marked an intense exploration of China’s material history—2,000 years ago, 3,000, 5,000 years ago,” he disclosed.
The iconic imagery of Ai shattering a Han dynasty urn was captured on a whim by his brother in 1995, a pivotal moment that inadvertently birthed an anti-establishment icon. “It’s evolved into an emblematic anti-establishment symbol,” Ai observed. “Yet, it was entirely unplanned.”
Following a directive from his mother to vacate the family home, Ai secured a barren plot near the airport, embarking on the construction of his inaugural live-in studio. The Beijing studio, his maiden major architectural endeavor, swiftly gained acclaim for its modern design, high ceilings, and abundant skylights, setting a new standard in Chinese architecture.
As an emerging art scene burgeoned around him, Ai established a non-profit gallery and even dabbled in the culinary realm with his own restaurant. “We eventually had to shut down because we often hosted friends who we refused to let pay,” he chuckled.
Subverting the confines of free speech, Ai ventured into underground art publications, organizing avant-garde art exhibitions that challenged societal norms. Undeterred by the looming threat of arrest faced by his contemporaries, he embraced the risks, unafraid of the consequences.
In 2000, Ai orchestrated an exhibition in Shanghai showcasing provocative Chinese artists, sparking outrage among local authorities. “They were infuriated. The head of the Communist Party presented the catalog to the Central Committee, denouncing the state of art,” Ai recounted.
Embracing the digital age, Ai commenced his own daily blog in 2005, attracting a vast readership with his unfiltered thoughts. However, the platform was abruptly silenced by Chinese authorities in 2009, marking a turning point in his activism. Undeterred, he channeled his experiences into poignant artworks, including a poignant rock album and lifelike dioramas of his harrowing detention experience.
His relentless pursuit of freedom of expression culminated in a tumultuous period of persecution and exile, ultimately leading to his departure from China in 2015. Since then, Ai has grappled with the challenges of living in European exile, striving to establish a sense of belonging amidst the disconnect.
Ai’s new studio in Portugal pays homage to a bygone era of creative freedom, mirroring the design of his demolished Shanghai studio while infusing it with a fresh perspective. By deviating from conventional architectural norms, Ai has introduced new complexities and challenges into the building’s structure, embodying his subversive spirit.
Incorporating traditional Chinese architectural techniques detailed in an ancient manual, Ai’s Portugal studio stands as a testament to history and memory, embodying his profound understanding of Chinese culture through material manifestation.
As construction nears completion, Ai continues to document the progress for his global audience, showcasing the meticulous craftsmanship and innovative design that define his latest architectural endeavor. While the studio represents a physical space, it also embodies Ai’s unwavering commitment to artistic expression and activism, transcending boundaries and defying conventions.