Far and Away: Reporting from the Brink of Change

Wu Yuren was arrested in 2010 for protesting in Tiananmen Square against the government’s seizure of his studio and the studios of several other artists. Many important artists came to his trial, including Ai Weiwei. Wu was released in 2012. Shortly before the 2014 Chinese New Year, Wu Yuren was sent a leaked document. An official notification from the Beijing Domestic Security Department, it instructed officers to act against “the unsafe, suspect population throughout the city.” They were to keep such people away from central areas. The memo ended, “Stop the harmful influence caused by people gathering.” The anonymous sender added a note to Wu Yuren, almost a dare, saying, “If you post this, the government will come and grab you.” Wu Yuren posted the document on his WeChat channel and four hours later, after his post had been shared by many people on WeChat, he received a police invitation to “a cup of tea.” It was the middle of the night, but he headed out. On the way to the teahouse, Wu was confronted by four police officers and some additional heavies. At the police station, one of the officers said, “The New Year is coming up, and you’re going to be here. We’re not going to let you go home.” Wu replied evenly, “Actually, I’m cool with that. I haven’t prepared at all for the New Year’s celebration. I’m really behind schedule. This is a great excuse.” This time, insolence worked; he was released a half hour later. “My parents of course want me to leave the country or to stop criticizing the government,” he said. “It’s something all parents would want. I don’t want my own child to live in China, especially under the current circumstances. People of their generation all say that there’s nothing you as an individual can do, so stop trying, it’s not worth it.”

In 2014, police detained thirteen residents of Songzhuang for “creating trouble” after Wang Zang posted a picture on Twitter of himself holding an umbrella. The umbrella had become the symbol of Hong Kong’s pro-democracy demonstrators. Police confiscated Wang Zang’s umbrella and took him into custody; still in jail two months later, he suffered a heart attack following sleep-deprivation torture. “Despite all these troubles, I think my husband did the right thing,” his wife said. A vast increase in police in Songzhuang immediately followed the arrest. Artists who had been marketing their work to anyone with funds now shooed away potential buyers. The painter Tang Jianying, who also came under increased surveillance, said that Wang’s error had been to use the Internet. “Among friends, we can speak freely,” he said. “But if you speak freely on the Web, they’ll get you.”

In the spring of 2015, President Xi Jinping said, “Fine art works should be like sunshine from blue sky and breeze in spring that will inspire minds, warm hearts, cultivate taste, and clean up undesirable work styles.” This rather novel description of springtime weather was followed by statements from the State General Administration of Press, Publication, Radio, Film, and TV, which expressed its willingness to relocate artists to rural areas so they could “form a correct view of art,” finding opportunities in the boondocks to “unearth new subjects” and “create more masterpieces.” The message could not have been clearer. As during the Cultural Revolution, artists who refused to self-censor would be sent into punitive exile.