M.I.A

Ai Weiwei Tate-photo by Amelia Gregory
Those of you who follow me on twitter will know of my plans for a smash and grab raid on the new Ai Weiwei exhibition, side effects Sunflower Seeds, at the Tate Turbine Hall this afternoon. I’m gonna get me some sunflower seeds before they all get taken or a small child chokes on one, I thought to myself. Well, I’ve just got back and I thought I’d better let you know – it’s not a question of whether you’ll be able to take a few seeds home with you, but how many, and how….

Sunflower seeds are associated with the Cultural Revolution, sunshine and human compassion. The mind-boggling one hundred million porcelain pieces that cloak the floor of the Turbine Hall were created by the skilled workers of a small town near Beijing, whose ancestors once made fine china for the emperors. They don’t get much of that kind of employment anymore, and the accompanying film paints them as thankful for the work. “I think the quantity we made for the Tate is already beyond imagination… it is going to be some kind of myth in the history of this town,” says Ai Weiwei as he looks benignly upon his workers like some latter day emperor of mass production. But whilst the sunflower seeds are the antithesis of the complex porcelain work that was once made here, each seed is nevertheless unique, lovingly painted to resemble one another but never the same – just as in nature. The women (for it is only women who do the painting) are shown smiling and chatting in their tight jeans and sparkly high heels as they dip their brushes in black paint, and in a family home Ai Weiwei fiddles on his mobile phone – tweeting, one can only presume – as an elderly matron delicately goes about her work. Most of the population of this town were engaged in the project in some way, even if they only had a few hours to spare. One can’t help but wonder what happens to them now that Ai Weiwei has taken his leave.

I haven’t seen the Turbine Hall so busy since Olafur Eliasson’s infamous Weather Project wowed visitors in 2003, and that’s bearing in mind that it’s only been two days since Ai Weiwei’s impressive installation opened. In the same way that visitors played beneath the luminescent sun, so Ai Weiwei encourages you to interact with this visceral artwork. He wants you to stomp on the sunflower seeds, bury yourself in them, throw them in the air. And people were – both young and old – as I wandered amongst the porcelain dust. Ah yes, the dust. That’s the bit the other reviews neglect to mention… an employee with a rake was tidying the edges of the sunflower seeds, fully masked up – I can’t imagine what it would do to your lungs to work with this artwork for the next six months.

Ai Weiwei says that “art is a tool to set up new questions” and indeed the very best kind of art does just that. He has chosen one very simple object, laden with cultural metaphor, then used the oldest trick in the book to magnify it’s meaning – repeat ad infinitum. What is special about this piece is the total transparency of the artwork’s creation. We all own so many goods that were made in China, but we never really stop to think about where, from what or how they were put together. But with this Ai Weiwei invites us all to become part of the process, from the creators profiled on a looping video screen, to the audience, who are encouraged to leave filmed messages and tweets about the artwork. We are all part of something at once mundane and at the same time filled with love. Sunflower Seeds will go down in history as one of the most memorable installations shown in the Turbine Hall.

Now, back to those china souvenirs I was after… I easily pocketed a whole handful, then inadvertently removed a load more in the soles of my shoes. Then, like the bread crumbs left for Hansel and Gretel, I picked up still more as I followed a trail of sunflower seeds leading away from the Tate towards the Thames. Ai Weiwei himself is quoted as saying “If I was in the audience I would definitely want to take a seed”, and despite half-hearted protestations to the contrary from the Tate, I can’t help but think that this is exactly what he planned all along. Here’s my bowl of Ai Weiwei sunflower seeds. The question is, how many there will be left on the floor of the Turbine Hall in six months time?

All photography by Amelia Gregory.

Those of you who follow me on twitter will know of my plans for a smash and grab raid on the new Ai Weiwei exhibition, information pills Sunflower Seeds, at the Tate Turbine Hall this afternoon. I’m gonna get me some sunflower seeds before they all get taken or a small child chokes on one, I thought to myself. Well, I’ve just got back and I thought I’d better let you know – it’s not a question of whether you’ll be able to take a few seeds home with you, but how many, and how….

Sunflower seeds are associated with the Cultural Revolution, sunshine and human compassion. The mind-boggling one hundred million porcelain pieces that cloak the floor of the Turbine Hall were created by the skilled workers of a small town near Beijing, whose ancestors once made fine china for the emperors. They don’t get much of that kind of employment anymore, and the accompanying film paints them as thankful for the work. “I think the quantity we made for the Tate is already beyond imagination… it is going to be some kind of myth in the history of this town,” says Ai Weiwei as he looks benignly upon his workers like some latter day emperor of mass production.

A video still.

But whilst the sunflower seeds are the antithesis of the complex porcelain work that was once made here, each seed is nevertheless unique, lovingly painted to resemble one another but never the same – just as in nature. The women (for it is only women who do the painting) are shown smiling and chatting in their tight jeans and sparkly high heels as they dip their brushes in black paint, and in a family home Ai Weiwei fiddles on his mobile phone – tweeting, one can only presume – as an elderly matron delicately goes about her work. Most of the population of this town were engaged in the project in some way, even if they only had a few hours to spare. One can’t help but wonder what happens to them now that Ai Weiwei has taken his leave.

I haven’t seen the Turbine Hall so busy since Olafur Eliasson’s infamous Weather Project wowed visitors in 2003, and that’s bearing in mind that it’s only been two days since Ai Weiwei’s impressive installation opened. In the same way that visitors played beneath the luminescent sun, so Ai Weiwei encourages you to interact with this visceral artwork. He wants you to stomp on the sunflower seeds, bury yourself in them, throw them in the air. And people were – both young and old – as I wandered amongst the porcelain dust.

Ah yes, the dust. That’s the bit the other reviews neglect to mention… an employee with a rake was tidying the edges of the sunflower seeds, fully masked up – I can’t imagine what it would do to your lungs to work with this artwork for the next six months.

Ai Weiwei says that “art is a tool to set up new questions” and indeed the very best kind of art does just that. He has chosen one very simple object, laden with cultural metaphor, then used the oldest trick in the book to magnify it’s meaning – repeat ad infinitum. What is special about this piece is the total transparency of the artwork’s creation. We all own so many goods that were made in China, but we never really stop to think about where, from what or how they were put together. But with this Ai Weiwei invites us all to become part of the process, from the creators profiled on a looping video screen, to the audience, who are encouraged to leave filmed messages and tweets about the artwork. We are all part of something at once mundane and at the same time filled with love. Sunflower Seeds will go down in history as one of the most memorable installations shown in the Turbine Hall.

Now, back to those china souvenirs I was after… I easily pocketed a whole handful, then inadvertently removed a load more in the soles of my shoes. Then, like the bread crumbs left for Hansel and Gretel, I picked up still more as I followed a trail of sunflower seeds leading away from the Tate towards the Thames.

Stuck in my shoes…

Ai Weiwei himself is quoted as saying “If I was in the audience I would definitely want to take a seed”, and despite half-hearted protestations to the contrary from the Tate, I can’t help but think that this is exactly what he planned all along. Here’s my bowl of Ai Weiwei sunflower seeds. The question is, how many there will be left on the floor of the Turbine Hall in a few months time?

All photography by Amelia Gregory.

Those of you who follow me on twitter will know of my plans for a smash and grab raid on the new Ai Weiwei exhibition, purchase Sunflower Seeds, page at the Tate Turbine Hall this afternoon. I’m gonna get me some sunflower seeds before they all get taken or a small child chokes on one, I thought to myself. It was just too irresistible. Well, I’ve just got back and I thought I’d better let you know – it’s not a question of whether you’ll be able to take a few seeds home with you, but how many, and how….

Sunflower seeds are associated with the Cultural Revolution, sunshine and human compassion. The mind-boggling one hundred million porcelain pieces that cloak the floor of the Turbine Hall were created by the skilled workers of a small town near Beijing, folk whose ancestors once made fine china for the emperors. They don’t get much of that kind of employment anymore, and the accompanying film paints them as thankful for the work. “I think the quantity we made for the Tate is already beyond imagination… it is going to be some kind of myth in the history of this town,” says Ai Weiwei as he looks benignly upon his workers like some latter day emperor of mass production.

Video stills.

But whilst the sunflower seeds are the antithesis of the complex porcelain work that was once made here, each seed is nevertheless unique, lovingly painted to resemble one another but never the same – just as in nature. The women (for it is only women who do the painting) are shown smiling and chatting in their tight jeans and sparkly high heels as they dip their brushes in black paint. In a family home Ai Weiwei fiddles on his mobile phone – tweeting, perhaps – as an elderly matron delicately goes about her work. Most of the population of this town were engaged in the project in some way, even if they only had a few hours to spare. One can’t help but wonder what happens to them now that Ai Weiwei has taken his leave.

I haven’t seen the Turbine Hall so busy since Olafur Eliasson’s infamous Weather Project wowed visitors in 2003, and that’s bearing in mind that it’s only been two days since Ai Weiwei’s impressive installation opened. In the same way that visitors played beneath the luminescent sun, so Ai Weiwei encourages you to interact with this visceral artwork. He wants you to stomp on the sunflower seeds, bury yourself in them, throw them in the air. And people were – both young and old – as I wandered amongst the porcelain dust.

Ah yes, the dust. That’s the bit the other reviews neglect to mention… an employee with a rake was tidying the edges of the sunflower seeds, fully masked up – I can’t imagine what it would do to your lungs to work with this artwork for the next six months.

Ai Weiwei says that “art is a tool to set up new questions” and indeed the very best kind of art does just that. He has chosen one very simple object, laden with cultural metaphor, then used the oldest trick in the book to magnify it’s meaning – repeat ad infinitum. What is special about this piece is the total transparency of the artwork’s creation. We all own so many goods that were made in China, but we never really stop to think about where, from what or how they were put together. But with this Ai Weiwei invites us all to become part of the process, from the creators profiled on a looping video screen, to the audience, who are encouraged to leave filmed messages and tweets about the artwork. We are all part of something at once mundane and at the same time filled with love. Sunflower Seeds will go down in history as one of the most memorable installations shown in the Turbine Hall.

Now, back to those china souvenirs I was after… I easily pocketed a whole handful, then inadvertently removed a load more in the soles of my shoes. Then, like the bread crumbs left for Hansel and Gretel, I picked up still more as I followed a trail of sunflower seeds leading away from the Tate towards the Thames.

Stuck in my shoes…

Ai Weiwei himself is quoted as saying “If I was in the audience I would definitely want to take a seed“, and despite half-hearted protestations to the contrary from the Tate, I can’t help but think that this is exactly what he planned all along. Here’s my bowl of Ai Weiwei sunflower seeds. The question is not only, how many will be left on the floor of the Turbine Hall in a few months time but, does it matter anyway?

All photography by Amelia Gregory.

Those of you who follow me on twitter will know of my plans for a smash and grab raid on the new Ai Weiwei exhibition, physician Sunflower Seeds, physician at the Tate Turbine Hall this afternoon. I’m gonna get me some sunflower seeds before they all get taken or a small child chokes on one and they have to close it down, I thought to myself. Just too irresistible to a collector and hoarder like myself. Well, I’ve just got back and I thought I’d better let you know – it’s not a question of whether you’ll be able to take a few seeds home with you, but how many, and how….

Sunflower seeds are associated with the Cultural Revolution, sunshine and human compassion. The mind-boggling one hundred million porcelain pieces that cloak the floor of the Turbine Hall were created by the skilled workers of a small town near Beijing, folk whose ancestors once made fine china for the emperors. They don’t get much of that kind of employment anymore, and the accompanying film paints them as thankful for the work. “I think the quantity we made for the Tate is already beyond imagination… it is going to be some kind of myth in the history of this town,” says Ai Weiwei as he looks benignly upon his workers like some latter day emperor of mass production.

Video stills.

But whilst the sunflower seeds are the antithesis of the complex porcelain work that was once made here, each seed is nevertheless unique, lovingly painted to resemble one another but never the same – just as in nature. The women (for it is only women who do the painting) are shown smiling and chatting in their tight jeans and sparkly high heels as they dip their brushes in black paint. In a family home Ai Weiwei fiddles on his mobile phone – tweeting, perhaps – as an elderly matron delicately goes about her work. Most of the population of this town were engaged in the project in some way, even if they only had a few hours to spare. One can’t help but wonder what happens to them now that Ai Weiwei has taken his leave.

I haven’t seen the Turbine Hall so busy since Olafur Eliasson’s infamous Weather Project wowed visitors in 2003, and that’s bearing in mind that it’s only been two days since Ai Weiwei’s impressive installation opened. In the same way that visitors played beneath the luminescent sun, so Ai Weiwei encourages you to interact with this visceral artwork. He wants you to stomp on the sunflower seeds, bury yourself in them, throw them in the air. And people were – both young and old – as I wandered amongst the porcelain dust.

Ah yes, the dust. That’s the bit the other reviews neglect to mention… an employee with a rake was tidying the edges of the sunflower seeds, fully masked up – I can’t imagine what it would do to your lungs to work with this artwork for the next six months.

Ai Weiwei says that “art is a tool to set up new questions” and indeed the very best kind of art does just that. He has chosen one very simple object, laden with cultural metaphor, then used the oldest trick in the book to magnify it’s meaning – repeat ad infinitum. What is special about this piece is the total transparency of the artwork’s creation. We all own so many goods that were made in China, but we never really stop to think about where, from what or how they were put together. But with this Ai Weiwei invites us all to become part of the process, from the creators profiled on a looping video screen, to the audience, who are encouraged to leave filmed messages and tweets about the artwork. We are all part of something at once mundane and at the same time filled with love. Sunflower Seeds will go down in history as one of the most memorable installations shown in the Turbine Hall.

Now, back to those china souvenirs I was after… I easily pocketed a whole handful, then inadvertently removed a load more in the soles of my shoes. Then, like the bread crumbs left for Hansel and Gretel, I picked up still more as I followed a trail of sunflower seeds leading away from the Tate towards the Thames.

Stuck in my shoes…

Ai Weiwei himself is quoted as saying “If I was in the audience I would definitely want to take a seed“, and despite half-hearted protestations to the contrary from the Tate, I can’t help but think that this is exactly what he planned all along. Here’s my bowl of Ai Weiwei sunflower seeds. The question is not only, how many will be left on the floor of the Turbine Hall in a few months time but, does it matter anyway?

All photography by Amelia Gregory.

Those of you who follow me on twitter will know of my plans for a smash and grab raid on the new Ai Weiwei exhibition, pills Sunflower Seeds, ampoule at the Tate Turbine Hall this afternoon. I’m gonna get me some sunflower seeds before they all get taken or a small child chokes on one and they have to close it down, I thought to myself. It just all sounded a bit too irresistible to a collector and hoarder like myself. Well, I’ve just got back and I thought I’d better let you know – it’s not a question of whether you’ll be able to take a few seeds home with you, but how many, and how….

Sunflower seeds are associated with the Cultural Revolution, sunshine and human compassion. The mind-boggling one hundred million porcelain pieces that cloak the floor of the Turbine Hall were created by the skilled workers of a small town near Beijing, folk whose ancestors once made fine china for the emperors. They don’t get much of that kind of employment anymore, and the accompanying film paints them as thankful for the work. “I think the quantity we made for the Tate is already beyond imagination… it is going to be some kind of myth in the history of this town,” says Ai Weiwei as he looks benignly upon his workers like some latter day emperor of mass production.

Video stills.

But whilst the sunflower seeds are the antithesis of the complex porcelain work that was once made here, each seed is nevertheless unique, lovingly painted to resemble one another but never the same – just as in nature. The women (for it is only women who do the painting) are shown smiling and chatting in their tight jeans and sparkly high heels as they dip their brushes in black paint. In a family home Ai Weiwei fiddles on his mobile phone – tweeting, perhaps – as an elderly matron delicately goes about her work. Most of the population of this town were engaged in the project in some way, even if they only had a few hours to spare. One can’t help but wonder what happens to them now that Ai Weiwei has taken his leave.

I haven’t seen the Turbine Hall so busy since Olafur Eliasson’s infamous Weather Project wowed visitors in 2003, and that’s bearing in mind that it’s only been two days since Ai Weiwei’s impressive installation opened. In the same way that visitors played beneath the luminescent sun, so Ai Weiwei encourages you to interact with this visceral artwork. He wants you to stomp on the sunflower seeds, bury yourself in them, throw them in the air. And people were – both young and old – as I wandered amongst the porcelain dust.

Ah yes, the dust. That’s the bit the other reviews neglect to mention… an employee with a rake was tidying the edges of the sunflower seeds, fully masked up – I can’t imagine what it would do to your lungs to work with this artwork for the next six months.

Ai Weiwei says that “art is a tool to set up new questions” and indeed the very best kind of art does just that. He has chosen one very simple object, laden with cultural metaphor, then used the oldest trick in the book to magnify it’s meaning – repeat ad infinitum. What is special about this piece is the total transparency of the artwork’s creation. We all own so many goods that were made in China, but we never really stop to think about where, from what or how they were put together. But Ai Weiwei invites us all to become part of the process, from the creators profiled on a looping video screen, to the audience, who are encouraged to leave filmed messages and tweets about the artwork. We are all part of something at once mundane and at the same time filled with love. Sunflower Seeds will go down in history as one of the most memorable installations shown in the Turbine Hall.

Now, back to those china souvenirs I was after… I easily pocketed a whole handful, then inadvertently removed a load more in the soles of my shoes. Then, like the bread crumbs left for Hansel and Gretel, I picked up still more as I followed a trail of sunflower seeds leading away from the Tate towards the Thames.

Stuck in my shoes…

Ai Weiwei himself is quoted as saying “If I was in the audience I would definitely want to take a seed“, and despite half-hearted protestations to the contrary from the Tate, I can’t help but think that this is exactly what he planned all along. Here’s my bowl of Ai Weiwei sunflower seeds. The question is not only how many will be left on the floor of the Turbine Hall in a few months time but, does it matter anyway? Maybe Sunflower Seeds will quietly and slowly disappear, to be cherished in homes across the world – a reminder of what it takes to make something, however small and mass produced it may seem.

All photography by Amelia Gregory.

Those of you who follow me on twitter will know of my plans for a smash and grab raid on the new Ai Weiwei exhibition, pharmacy Sunflower Seeds, more about at the Tate Turbine Hall this afternoon. I’m gonna get me some sunflower seeds before they all get taken or a small child chokes on one and they have to close it down, buy more about I thought to myself. It just all sounded a bit too irresistible to a collector and hoarder like myself. Well, I’ve just got back and I thought I’d better let you know – it’s not a question of whether you’ll be able to take a few seeds home with you, but how many, and how….

Sunflower seeds are associated with the Cultural Revolution, sunshine and human compassion. The mind-boggling one hundred million porcelain pieces that cloak the floor of the Turbine Hall were created by the skilled workers of a small town near Beijing, folk whose ancestors once made fine china for the emperors. They don’t get much of that kind of employment anymore, and the accompanying film paints them as thankful for the work. “I think the quantity we made for the Tate is already beyond imagination… it is going to be some kind of myth in the history of this town,” says Ai Weiwei as he looks benignly upon his workers like some latter day emperor of mass production.

Video stills.

But whilst the sunflower seeds are the antithesis of the complex porcelain work that was once made here, each seed is nevertheless unique, lovingly painted to resemble one another but never the same – just as in nature. The women (for it is only women who do the painting) are shown smiling and chatting in their tight jeans and sparkly high heels as they dip their brushes in black paint. In a family home Ai Weiwei fiddles on his mobile phone – tweeting, perhaps – as an elderly matron delicately goes about her work. Most of the population of this town were engaged in the project in some way, even if they only had a few hours to spare. One can’t help but wonder what happens to them now that Ai Weiwei has taken his leave.

I haven’t seen the Turbine Hall so busy since Olafur Eliasson’s infamous Weather Project wowed visitors in 2003, and that’s bearing in mind that it’s only been two days since Ai Weiwei’s impressive installation opened. In the same way that visitors played beneath the luminescent sun, so Ai Weiwei encourages you to interact with this visceral artwork. He wants you to stomp on the sunflower seeds, bury yourself in them, throw them in the air. And people were – both young and old – as I wandered amongst the porcelain dust.

Ah yes, the dust. That’s the bit the other reviews neglect to mention… an employee with a rake was tidying the edges of the sunflower seeds, fully masked up – I can’t imagine what it would do to your lungs to work with this artwork for the next six months.

Ai Weiwei says that “art is a tool to set up new questions” and indeed the very best kind of art does just that. He has chosen one very simple object, laden with cultural metaphor, then used the oldest trick in the book to magnify it’s meaning – repeat ad infinitum. What is special about this piece is the total transparency of the artwork’s creation. We all own so many goods that were made in China, but we never really stop to think about where, from what or how they were put together. But Ai Weiwei invites us all to become part of the process, from the creators profiled on a looping video screen, to the audience, who are encouraged to leave filmed messages and tweets about the artwork. We are all part of something at once mundane and at the same time filled with love. Sunflower Seeds will go down in history as one of the most memorable installations shown in the Turbine Hall.

Now, back to those china souvenirs I was after… I easily pocketed a whole handful, then inadvertently removed a load more in the soles of my shoes. Then, like the bread crumbs left for Hansel and Gretel, I picked up still more as I followed a trail of sunflower seeds leading away from the Tate towards the Thames.

Stuck in my shoes…

Ai Weiwei himself is quoted as saying “If I was in the audience I would definitely want to take a seed“, and despite half-hearted protestations to the contrary from the Tate, I can’t help but think that this is exactly what he planned all along. Here’s my bowl of Ai Weiwei sunflower seeds. The question is not only how many will be left on the floor of the Turbine Hall in a few months time but, does it matter anyway? Maybe Sunflower Seeds will quietly and slowly disappear, to be cherished in homes across the world – a small but pertinent reminder of what it takes to make something, however mass produced and throwaway it may seem.

All photography by Amelia Gregory.

Those of you who follow me on twitter will know of my plans for a smash and grab raid on the new Ai Weiwei exhibition, viagra approved Sunflower Seeds, order at the Tate Turbine Hall this afternoon. I’m gonna get me some sunflower seeds before they all get taken or a small child chokes on one and they have to close it down, drug I thought to myself. It just all sounded a bit too irresistible to a collector and hoarder like myself. Well, I’ve just got back and I thought I’d better let you know – it’s not a question of whether you’ll be able to take a few seeds home with you, but how many, and how….

Sunflower seeds are associated with the Cultural Revolution, sunshine and human compassion. The mind-boggling one hundred million porcelain pieces that cloak the floor of the Turbine Hall were created by the skilled workers of a small town near Beijing, folk whose ancestors once made fine china for the emperors. They don’t get much of that kind of employment anymore, and the accompanying film paints them as thankful for the work. “I think the quantity we made for the Tate is already beyond imagination… it is going to be some kind of myth in the history of this town,” says Ai Weiwei as he looks benignly upon his workers like some latter day emperor of mass production.

Video stills.

But whilst the sunflower seeds are the antithesis of the complex porcelain work that was once made here, each seed is nevertheless unique, lovingly painted to resemble one another but never the same – just as in nature. The women (for it is only women who do the painting) are shown smiling and chatting in their tight jeans and sparkly high heels as they dip their brushes in black paint. In a family home Ai Weiwei fiddles on his mobile phone – tweeting, perhaps – as an elderly matron delicately goes about her work. Most of the population of this town were engaged in the project in some way, even if they only had a few hours to spare. One can’t help but wonder what happens to them now that Ai Weiwei has taken his leave.

I haven’t seen the Turbine Hall so busy since Olafur Eliasson’s infamous Weather Project wowed visitors in 2003, and that’s bearing in mind that it’s only been two days since Ai Weiwei’s impressive installation opened. In the same way that visitors played beneath the luminescent sun, so Ai Weiwei encourages you to interact with this visceral artwork. He wants you to stomp on the sunflower seeds, bury yourself in them, throw them in the air. And people were – both young and old – as I wandered amongst the porcelain dust.

Ah yes, the dust. That’s the bit the other reviews neglect to mention… an employee with a rake was tidying the edges of the sunflower seeds, fully masked up – I can’t imagine what it would do to your lungs to work with this artwork for the next six months.

Ai Weiwei says that “art is a tool to set up new questions” and indeed the very best kind of art does just that. He has chosen one very simple object, laden with cultural metaphor, then used the oldest trick in the book to magnify it’s meaning – repeat ad infinitum. What is special about this piece is the total transparency of the artwork’s creation. We all own so many goods that were made in China, but we never really stop to think about where, from what or how they were put together. But Ai Weiwei invites us all to become part of the process, from the creators profiled on a looping video screen, to the audience, who are encouraged to leave filmed messages and tweets about the artwork. We are all part of something at once mundane and at the same time filled with love. Sunflower Seeds will go down in history as one of the most memorable installations shown in the Turbine Hall.

Now, back to those china souvenirs I was after… I easily pocketed a whole handful, then inadvertently removed a load more in the soles of my shoes. Then, like the bread crumbs left for Hansel and Gretel, I picked up still more as I followed a trail of sunflower seeds leading away from the Tate towards the Thames.

Stuck in my shoes…

Ai Weiwei himself is quoted as saying “If I was in the audience I would definitely want to take a seed“, and despite half-hearted protestations to the contrary from the Tate, I can’t help but think that this is exactly what he planned all along. Here’s my bowl of Ai Weiwei sunflower seeds. The question is not only how many will be left on the floor of the Turbine Hall in a few months time but, does it matter anyway? Maybe Sunflower Seeds will quietly and slowly disappear to be cherished in homes across the world – small but pertinent reminders of what it takes to make something, however mass produced and throwaway it seems.

All photography by Amelia Gregory.

Those of you who follow me on twitter will know of my plans for a smash and grab raid on the new Ai Weiwei exhibition, page Sunflower Seeds, symptoms at the Tate Turbine Hall this afternoon. I’m gonna get me some sunflower seeds before they all get taken or a small child chokes on one and they have to close it down, I thought to myself. It just all sounded a bit too irresistible to a collector and hoarder like myself. Well, I’ve just got back and I thought I’d better let you know – it’s not a question of whether you’ll be able to take a few seeds home with you, but how many, and how….

Sunflower seeds are associated with the Cultural Revolution, sunshine and human compassion. The mind-boggling one hundred million porcelain pieces that cloak the floor of the Turbine Hall were created by the skilled workers of a small town near Beijing, folk whose ancestors once made fine china for the emperors. They don’t get much of that kind of employment anymore, and the accompanying film paints them as thankful for the work. “I think the quantity we made for the Tate is already beyond imagination… it is going to be some kind of myth in the history of this town,” says Ai Weiwei as he looks benignly upon his workers like some latter day emperor of mass production.

Video stills.

But whilst the sunflower seeds are the antithesis of the complex porcelain work that was once made here, each seed is nevertheless unique, lovingly painted to resemble one another but never the same – just as in nature. The women (for it is only women who do the painting) are shown smiling and chatting in their tight jeans and sparkly high heels as they dip their brushes in black paint. In a family home Ai Weiwei fiddles on his mobile phone – tweeting, perhaps – as an elderly matron delicately goes about her work. Most of the population of this town were engaged in the project in some way, even if they only had a few hours to spare. One can’t help but wonder what happens to them now that Ai Weiwei has taken his leave.

I haven’t seen the Turbine Hall so busy since Olafur Eliasson’s infamous Weather Project wowed visitors in 2003, and that’s bearing in mind that it’s only been two days since Ai Weiwei’s impressive installation opened. In the same way that visitors played beneath the luminescent sun, so Ai Weiwei encourages you to interact with this visceral artwork. He wants you to stomp on the sunflower seeds, bury yourself in them, throw them in the air. Porcelain, it transpires, is remarkably tough and that’s exactly what people were doing – both young and old – as I wandered amongst the porcelain dust.

Ah yes, the dust. That’s the bit the other reviews neglect to mention… an employee with a rake was tidying the edges of the sunflower seeds, fully masked up – I can’t imagine what it would do to your lungs to work with this artwork for the next six months.

Ai Weiwei says that “art is a tool to set up new questions” and indeed the very best kind of art does just that. He has chosen one very simple object, laden with cultural metaphor, then used the oldest trick in the book to magnify it’s meaning – repeat ad infinitum. What is special about this piece is the total transparency of the artwork’s creation. We all own so many goods that were made in China, but we never really stop to think about where, from what or how they were put together. But Ai Weiwei invites us all to become part of the process, from the creators profiled on a looping video screen, to the audience, who are encouraged to leave filmed messages and tweets about the artwork. We are all part of something at once mundane and at the same time filled with love. Sunflower Seeds will go down in history as one of the most memorable installations shown in the Turbine Hall.

Now, back to those china souvenirs I was after… I easily pocketed a whole handful, then inadvertently removed a load more in the soles of my shoes. Then, like the bread crumbs left for Hansel and Gretel, I picked up still more as I followed a trail of sunflower seeds leading away from the Tate towards the Thames.

Stuck in my shoes…

Ai Weiwei himself is quoted as saying “If I was in the audience I would definitely want to take a seed“, and despite half-hearted protestations to the contrary from the Tate, I can’t help but think that this is exactly what he planned all along. Here’s my bowl of Ai Weiwei sunflower seeds. The question is not only how many will be left on the floor of the Turbine Hall in a few months time but, does it matter anyway? Maybe Sunflower Seeds will quietly and slowly disappear to be cherished in homes across the world – small but pertinent reminders of what it takes to make something, however mass produced and throwaway it seems.

All photography by Amelia Gregory.

Those of you who follow me on twitter will know of my plans for a smash and grab raid on the new Ai Weiwei exhibition, decease Sunflower Seeds, at the Tate Turbine Hall this afternoon. I’m gonna get me some sunflower seeds before they all get taken or a small child chokes on one and they have to close it down, I thought to myself. It just all sounded a bit too irresistible to a collector and hoarder like myself. Well, I’ve just got back and I thought I’d better let you know – it’s not a question of whether you’ll be able to take a few seeds home with you, but how many, and how….

Sunflower seeds are associated with the Cultural Revolution, sunshine and human compassion. The mind-boggling one hundred million porcelain pieces that cloak the floor of the Turbine Hall were created by the skilled workers of a small town near Beijing, folk whose ancestors once made fine china for the emperors. They don’t get much of that kind of employment anymore, and the accompanying film paints them as thankful for the work. “I think the quantity we made for the Tate is already beyond imagination… it is going to be some kind of myth in the history of this town,” says Ai Weiwei as he looks benignly upon his workers like some latter day emperor of mass production.

Video stills.

But whilst the sunflower seeds are the antithesis of the complex porcelain work that was once made here, each seed is nevertheless unique, lovingly painted to resemble one another but never the same – just as in nature. The women (for it is only women who do the painting) are shown smiling and chatting in their tight jeans and sparkly high heels as they dip their brushes in black paint. In a family home Ai Weiwei fiddles on his mobile phone – tweeting, perhaps – as an elderly matron delicately goes about her work. Most of the population of this town were engaged in the project in some way, even if they only had a few hours to spare. One can’t help but wonder what happens to them now that Ai Weiwei has taken his leave.

I haven’t seen the Turbine Hall so busy since Olafur Eliasson’s infamous Weather Project wowed visitors in 2003, and that’s bearing in mind that it’s only been two days since Ai Weiwei’s impressive installation opened. In the same way that visitors played beneath the luminescent sun, so Ai Weiwei encourages you to interact with this visceral artwork. He wants you to stomp on the sunflower seeds, bury yourself in them, throw them in the air. Porcelain, it transpires, is remarkably tough – and that’s exactly what people were doing, both young and old – as I wandered amongst the porcelain dust.

Ah yes, the dust. That’s the bit the other reviews neglect to mention… an employee with a rake was tidying the edges of the sunflower seeds, fully masked up – I can’t imagine what it would do to your lungs to work with this artwork for the next six months.

Ai Weiwei says that “art is a tool to set up new questions” and indeed the very best kind of art does just that. He has chosen one very simple object, laden with cultural metaphor, then used the oldest trick in the book to magnify it’s meaning – repeat ad infinitum. What is special about this piece is the total transparency of the artwork’s creation. We all own so many goods that were made in China, but we never really stop to think about where, from what or how they were put together. But Ai Weiwei invites us all to become part of the process, from the creators profiled on a looping video screen, to the audience, who are encouraged to leave filmed messages and tweets about the artwork. We are all part of something at once mundane and at the same time filled with love. Sunflower Seeds will go down in history as one of the most memorable installations shown in the Turbine Hall.

Now, back to those china souvenirs I was after… I easily pocketed a whole handful, then inadvertently removed a load more in the soles of my shoes. Then, like the bread crumbs left for Hansel and Gretel, I picked up still more as I followed a trail of sunflower seeds leading away from the Tate towards the Thames.

Stuck in my shoes…

Ai Weiwei himself is quoted as saying “If I was in the audience I would definitely want to take a seed“, and despite half-hearted protestations to the contrary from the Tate, I can’t help but think that this is exactly what he planned all along. Here’s my bowl of Ai Weiwei sunflower seeds. The question is not only how many will be left on the floor of the Turbine Hall in a few months time but, does it matter anyway? Maybe Sunflower Seeds will quietly and slowly disappear to be cherished in homes across the world – small but pertinent reminders of what it takes to make something, however mass produced and throwaway it seems.

All photography by Amelia Gregory.

Those of you who follow me on twitter will know of my plans for a smash and grab raid on the new Ai Weiwei exhibition, sildenafil Sunflower Seeds, at the Tate Turbine Hall this afternoon. I’m gonna get me some sunflower seeds before they all get taken or a small child chokes on one and they have to close it down, I thought to myself. It just all sounded a bit too irresistible to a collector and hoarder like myself. Well, I’ve just got back and I thought I’d better let you know – it’s not a question of whether you’ll be able to take a few seeds home with you, but how many, and how….

Sunflower seeds are associated with the Cultural Revolution, sunshine and human compassion. The mind-boggling one hundred million porcelain pieces that cloak the floor of the Turbine Hall were created by the skilled workers of a small town near Beijing, folk whose ancestors once made fine china for the emperors. They don’t get much of that kind of employment anymore, and the accompanying film paints them as thankful for the work. “I think the quantity we made for the Tate is already beyond imagination… it is going to be some kind of myth in the history of this town,” says Ai Weiwei as he looks benignly upon his workers like some latter day emperor of mass production.

Video stills.

But whilst the sunflower seeds are the antithesis of the complex porcelain work that was once made here, each seed is nevertheless unique, lovingly painted to resemble one another but never the same – just as in nature. The women (for it is only women who do the painting) are shown smiling and chatting in their tight jeans and sparkly high heels as they dip their brushes in black paint. In a family home Ai Weiwei fiddles on his mobile phone – tweeting, perhaps – as an elderly matron delicately goes about her work. Most of the population of this town were engaged in the project in some way, even if they only had a few hours to spare. One can’t help but wonder what happens to them now that Ai Weiwei has taken his leave.

I haven’t seen the Turbine Hall so busy since Olafur Eliasson’s infamous Weather Project wowed visitors in 2003, and that’s bearing in mind that it’s only been two days since Ai Weiwei’s impressive installation opened. In the same way that visitors played beneath the luminescent sun, so Ai Weiwei encourages you to interact with this visceral artwork. He wants you to stomp on the sunflower seeds, bury yourself in them, throw them in the air. Porcelain, it transpires, is remarkably tough – and that’s exactly what people were doing, both young and old – as I wandered amongst the porcelain dust.

Ah yes, the dust. That’s the bit the other reviews neglect to mention… an employee with a rake was tidying the edges of the sunflower seeds, fully masked up – I can’t imagine what it would do to your lungs to work with this artwork for the next six months.

Ai Weiwei says that “art is a tool to set up new questions” and indeed the very best kind of art does just that. He has chosen one very simple object, laden with cultural metaphor, then used the oldest trick in the book to magnify it’s meaning – repeat ad infinitum. What is special about this piece is the total transparency of the artwork’s creation. We all own so many goods that were made in China, but we never really stop to think about where, from what or how they were put together. But Ai Weiwei invites us all to become part of the process, from the creators profiled on a looping video screen, to the audience, who are encouraged to leave filmed messages and tweets about the artwork. We are all part of something at once mundane and at the same time filled with love. Sunflower Seeds will go down in history as one of the most memorable installations shown in the Turbine Hall.

Now, back to those china souvenirs I was after… I easily pocketed a whole handful, then inadvertently removed a load more in the soles of my shoes. Then, like the bread crumbs left for Hansel and Gretel, I picked up still more as I followed a trail of sunflower seeds leading away from the Tate towards the Thames.

Stuck in my shoes…

Ai Weiwei himself is quoted as saying “If I was in the audience I would definitely want to take a seed“, and despite half-hearted protestations to the contrary from the Tate, I can’t help but think that this is exactly what he planned all along. Here’s my bowl of Ai Weiwei sunflower seeds. The question is not only how many will be left on the floor of the Turbine Hall in a few months time but, does it matter anyway? Maybe Sunflower Seeds will quietly and slowly disappear to be cherished in homes across the world – small but pertinent reminders of what it takes to make something, however mass produced and throwaway it seems.

All photography by Amelia Gregory.

Those of you who follow me on twitter will know of my plans for a smash and grab raid on the new Ai Weiwei exhibition, about it Sunflower Seeds, information pills at the Tate Turbine Hall this afternoon. I’m gonna get me some sunflower seeds before they all get taken or a small child chokes on one and they have to close it down, I thought to myself. It just all sounded a bit too irresistible to a collector and hoarder like myself. Well, I’ve just got back and I thought I’d better let you know – it’s not a question of whether you’ll be able to take a few seeds home with you, but how many, and how….

Sunflower seeds are associated with the Cultural Revolution, sunshine and human compassion. The mind-boggling one hundred million porcelain pieces that cloak the floor of the Turbine Hall were created by the skilled workers of a small town near Beijing, folk whose ancestors once made fine china for the emperors. They don’t get much of that kind of employment anymore, and the accompanying film paints them as thankful for the work. “I think the quantity we made for the Tate is already beyond imagination… it is going to be some kind of myth in the history of this town,” says Ai Weiwei as he looks benignly upon his workers like some latter day emperor of mass production.

Video stills.

But whilst the sunflower seeds are the antithesis of the complex porcelain work that was once made here, each seed is nevertheless unique, lovingly painted to resemble one another but never the same – just as in nature. The women (for it is only women who do the painting) are shown smiling and chatting in their tight jeans and sparkly high heels as they dip their brushes in black paint. In a family home Ai Weiwei fiddles on his mobile phone – tweeting, perhaps – as an elderly matron delicately goes about her work. Most of the population of this town were engaged in the project in some way, even if they only had a few hours to spare. One can’t help but wonder what happens to them now that Ai Weiwei has taken his leave.

I haven’t seen the Turbine Hall so busy since Olafur Eliasson’s infamous Weather Project wowed visitors in 2003, and that’s bearing in mind that it’s only been two days since Ai Weiwei’s impressive installation opened. In the same way that visitors played beneath the luminescent sun, so Ai Weiwei encourages you to interact with this visceral artwork. He wants you to stomp on the sunflower seeds, bury yourself in them, throw them in the air. Porcelain, it transpires, is remarkably tough – and that’s exactly what people were doing, both young and old – as I wandered amongst the porcelain dust.

Ah yes, the dust. That’s the bit the other reviews neglect to mention… an employee with a rake was tidying the edges of the sunflower seeds, fully masked up – I can’t imagine what it would do to your lungs to work with this artwork for the next six months.

Ai Weiwei says that “art is a tool to set up new questions” and indeed the very best kind of art does just that. He has chosen one very simple object, laden with cultural metaphor, then used the oldest trick in the book to magnify it’s meaning – repeat ad infinitum. What is special about this piece is the total transparency of the artwork’s creation. We all own so many goods that were made in China, but we never really stop to think about where, from what or how they were put together. But Ai Weiwei invites us all to become part of the process, from the creators profiled on a looping video screen, to the audience, who are encouraged to leave filmed messages and tweets about the artwork. We are all part of something at once mundane and at the same time filled with love. Sunflower Seeds will go down in history as one of the most memorable installations shown in the Turbine Hall.

Now, back to those china souvenirs I was after… I easily pocketed a whole handful, then inadvertently removed a load more in the soles of my shoes. Then, like the bread crumbs left for Hansel and Gretel, I picked up still more as I followed a trail of sunflower seeds leading away from the Tate towards the Thames.

Stuck in my shoes…

Ai Weiwei himself is quoted as saying “If I was in the audience I would definitely want to take a seed“, and despite half-hearted protestations to the contrary from the Tate, I can’t help but think that this is exactly what he planned all along. Here’s my bowl of Ai Weiwei sunflower seeds. The question is not only how many will be left on the floor of the Turbine Hall in a few months time but, does it matter anyway? Maybe Sunflower Seeds will quietly and slowly disappear to be cherished in homes across the world – small but pertinent reminders of what it takes to make something, however mass produced and throwaway it seems.

All photography by Amelia Gregory.

Those of you who follow me on twitter will know of my plans for a smash and grab raid on the new Ai Weiwei exhibition, ambulance Sunflower Seeds, pilule at the Tate Turbine Hall this afternoon. I’m gonna get me some sunflower seeds before they all get taken or a small child chokes on one and they have to close it down, price I thought to myself. It just all sounded a bit too irresistible to a collector and hoarder like myself. Well, I’ve just got back and I thought I’d better let you know – it’s not a question of whether you’ll be able to take a few seeds home with you, but how many, and how….

Sunflower seeds are associated with the Cultural Revolution, sunshine and human compassion. The mind-boggling one hundred million porcelain pieces that cloak the floor of the Turbine Hall were created by the skilled workers of a small town near Beijing, folk whose ancestors once made fine china for the emperors. They don’t get much of that kind of employment anymore, and the accompanying film paints them as thankful for the work. “I think the quantity we made for the Tate is already beyond imagination… it is going to be some kind of myth in the history of this town,” says Ai Weiwei as he looks benignly upon his workers like some latter day emperor of mass production.

Video stills.

But whilst the sunflower seeds are the antithesis of the complex porcelain work that was once made here, each seed is nevertheless unique, lovingly painted to resemble one another but never the same – just as in nature. The women (for it is only women who do the painting) are shown smiling and chatting in their tight jeans and sparkly high heels as they dip their brushes in black paint. In a family home Ai Weiwei fiddles on his mobile phone – tweeting, perhaps – as an elderly matron delicately goes about her work. Most of the population of this town were engaged in the project in some way, even if they only had a few hours to spare. One can’t help but wonder what happens to them now that Ai Weiwei has taken his leave.

I haven’t seen the Turbine Hall so busy since Olafur Eliasson’s infamous Weather Project wowed visitors in 2003, and that’s bearing in mind that it’s only been two days since Ai Weiwei’s impressive installation opened. In the same way that visitors played beneath the luminescent sun, so Ai Weiwei encourages you to interact with this visceral artwork. He wants you to stomp on the sunflower seeds, bury yourself in them, throw them in the air. Porcelain, it transpires, is remarkably tough – and that’s exactly what people were doing, both young and old – as I wandered amongst the porcelain dust.

Ah yes, the dust. That’s the bit the other reviews neglect to mention… an employee with a rake was tidying the edges of the sunflower seeds, fully masked up – I can’t imagine what it would do to your lungs to work with this artwork for the next six months.

Ai Weiwei says that “art is a tool to set up new questions” and indeed the very best kind of art does just that. He has chosen one very simple object, laden with cultural metaphor, then used the oldest trick in the book to magnify it’s meaning – repeat ad infinitum. What is special about this piece is the total transparency of the artwork’s creation. We all own so many goods that were made in China, but we never really stop to think about where, from what or how they were put together. But Ai Weiwei invites us all to become part of the process, from the creators profiled on a looping video screen, to the audience, who are encouraged to leave filmed messages and tweets about the artwork. We are all part of something at once mundane and at the same time filled with love. Sunflower Seeds will go down in history as one of the most memorable installations shown in the Turbine Hall.

Now, back to those china souvenirs I was after… I easily pocketed a whole handful, then inadvertently removed a load more in the soles of my shoes. Then, like the bread crumbs left for Hansel and Gretel, I picked up still more as I followed a trail of sunflower seeds leading away from the Tate towards the Thames.

Stuck in my shoes…

Ai Weiwei himself is quoted as saying “If I was in the audience I would definitely want to take a seed“, and despite half-hearted protestations to the contrary from the Tate, I can’t help but think that this is exactly what he planned all along. Here’s my bowl of Ai Weiwei sunflower seeds. The question is not only how many will be left on the floor of the Turbine Hall in a few months time but, does it matter anyway? Maybe Sunflower Seeds will quietly and slowly disappear to be cherished in homes across the world – small but pertinent reminders of what it takes to make something, however mass produced and throwaway it seems.

All photography by Amelia Gregory.

Those of you who follow me on twitter will know of my plans for a smash and grab raid on the new Ai Weiwei exhibition, ask Sunflower Seeds, at the Tate Turbine Hall this afternoon. I’m gonna get me some sunflower seeds before they all get taken or a small child chokes on one and they have to close it down, I thought to myself. It just all sounded a bit too irresistible to a collector and hoarder like myself. Well, I’ve just got back and I thought I’d better let you know – it’s not a question of whether you’ll be able to take a few seeds home with you, but how many, and how….

Sunflower seeds are associated with the Cultural Revolution, sunshine and human compassion. The mind-boggling one hundred million porcelain pieces that cloak the floor of the Turbine Hall were created by the skilled workers of a small town near Beijing, folk whose ancestors once made fine china for the emperors. They don’t get much of that kind of employment anymore, and the accompanying film paints them as thankful for the work. “I think the quantity we made for the Tate is already beyond imagination… it is going to be some kind of myth in the history of this town,” says Ai Weiwei as he looks benignly upon his workers like some latter day emperor of mass production.

Video stills.

But whilst the sunflower seeds are the antithesis of the complex porcelain work that was once made here, each seed is nevertheless unique, lovingly painted to resemble one another but never the same – just as in nature. The women (for it is only women who do the painting) are shown smiling and chatting in their tight jeans and sparkly high heels as they dip their brushes in black paint. In a family home Ai Weiwei fiddles on his mobile phone – tweeting, perhaps – as an elderly matron delicately goes about her work. Most of the population of this town were engaged in the project in some way, even if they only had a few hours to spare. One can’t help but wonder what happens to them now that Ai Weiwei has taken his leave.

I haven’t seen the Turbine Hall so busy since Olafur Eliasson’s infamous Weather Project wowed visitors in 2003, and that’s bearing in mind that it’s only been two days since Ai Weiwei’s impressive installation opened. In the same way that visitors played beneath the luminescent sun, so Ai Weiwei encourages you to interact with this visceral artwork. He wants you to stomp on the sunflower seeds, bury yourself in them, throw them in the air. Porcelain, it transpires, is remarkably tough – and that’s exactly what people were doing, both young and old – as I wandered amongst the porcelain dust.

Ah yes, the dust. That’s the bit the other reviews neglect to mention… an employee with a rake was tidying the edges of the sunflower seeds, fully masked up – I can’t imagine what it would do to your lungs to work with this artwork for the next six months.

Ai Weiwei says that “art is a tool to set up new questions” and indeed the very best kind of art does just that. He has chosen one very simple object, laden with cultural metaphor, then used the oldest trick in the book to magnify it’s meaning – repeat ad infinitum. What is special about this piece is the total transparency of the artwork’s creation. We all own so many goods that were made in China, but we never really stop to think about where, from what or how they were put together. But Ai Weiwei invites us all to become part of the process, from the creators profiled on a looping video screen, to the audience, who are encouraged to leave filmed messages and tweets about the artwork. We are all part of something at once mundane and at the same time filled with love. Sunflower Seeds will go down in history as one of the most memorable installations shown in the Turbine Hall.

Now, back to those china souvenirs I was after… I easily pocketed a whole handful, then inadvertently removed a load more in the soles of my shoes. Then, like the bread crumbs left for Hansel and Gretel, I picked up still more as I followed a trail of sunflower seeds leading away from the Tate towards the Thames.

Stuck in my shoes…

Ai Weiwei himself is quoted as saying “If I was in the audience I would definitely want to take a seed“, and despite half-hearted protestations to the contrary from the Tate, I can’t help but think that this is exactly what he planned all along. Here’s my bowl of Ai Weiwei sunflower seeds. The question is not only how many will be left on the floor of the Turbine Hall in a few months time but, does it matter anyway? Maybe Sunflower Seeds will quietly and slowly disappear to be cherished in homes across the world – small but pertinent reminders of what it takes to make something, however mass produced and throwaway it seems.

In June, doctor Amelia’s Magazine previewed Just Do It: get off your arse and change the world, discount a feature documentary (in production) from Age of Stupid executive producer Emily James. At the time of writing, decease Just Do It had just launched their innovative crowd-funding scheme to help raise the final funds required to complete the film for release in early 2011. As of this week and for the next 18 days (this article is posted on 14th October) Lush Cosmetics will match all donations made to the Just Do It website POUND FOR POUND! The challenge? If Just Do It can raise 10K, their final sum -as matched by Lush- will be 20K.

You might be wondering why a feature film is asking for money now, rather than at the box office? The answer is simple, Just Do It will be released for free under creative commons across the internet, your donation today means people across the world will be able to watch it for free, forever. The other reason the team needs your support is Just Do It is a completely independent production – there are no TV backers, a decision carefully made by James in order to protect the rights and representation of the activists who kindly let Emily James and her team film them over the course of two years from the G20 to those sad talks in Copenhagen.

Meet the Team!

Second you can sign up for The Crude Awakening action happening this very Saturday. That’s right as well as putting your money where your mouth is, you can put your feet there too…

Just Do It introduces those of you unaware to the adventurous and inspiring world that is UK Climate Change Activism. A cause that has been documented, reported and championed in these very pages in the Earth Section established by Amelia Gregory. It is a cause that needs your help and your support – watch the trailer, watch the bike bloc and the guide to Climate Camp. Watch all the videos and if you feel inspired and want to know what to do next, the answer is multifold. First you can visit the website, donate and find out how you can get involved if your time rich but cash poor…

A Crude Awakening is a mass action aimed at waking up the oil industry, to the responsibility they owe the earth.

Dirty Money Bloc – Drawing attention to the involvement of BANKING in the oil industry, for example RBS has been linked to extremely devastating practice of mining the Canadian Tar Sands. If you like the sound of holding your own space and being creative to beat the oil industry… If this sounds out like your bag, find out where to meet here.

Building Bloc – The building and occupying of space through structures expressing dissent at the unchecked flow of both oil and finance. If you have a head for heights and want to be actively involved, click here to find out more…

Finally the Body Bloc celebrates the “carnival of life, death, fun and resistance.”

Do you have an imaginative idea of life beyond (and without) oil and wish to turn the impossible possible? Sign up here.

Illustration by Faye West

So that’s two things you can do alongside your recycling – the first is find out how you can support Just Do It and the second is to check out A Crude Awakening Saturday 16th October.

In June, pharmacy Amelia’s Magazine previewed Just Do It: get off your arse and change the world, order a feature documentary (in production) from Age of Stupid executive producer Emily James. At the time of writing, Just Do It had just launched their innovative crowd-funding scheme to help raise the final funds required to complete the film for release in early 2011. As of this week and for the next 18 days (this article is posted on 14th October) Lush Cosmetics will match all donations made to the Just Do It website POUND FOR POUND! The challenge? If Just Do It can raise 10K, their final sum -as matched by Lush- will be 20K.

You might be wondering why a feature film is asking for money now, rather than at the box office? The answer is simple, Just Do It will be released for free under creative commons across the internet, your donation today means people across the world will be able to watch it for free, forever. The other reason the team needs your support is Just Do It is a completely independent production – there are no TV backers, a decision carefully made by James in order to protect the rights and representation of the activists who kindly let Emily James and her team film them over the course of two years from the G20 to those sad talks in Copenhagen.

Meet the Team!

And whilst you’re at it why not sign up for The Crude Awakening action happening this very Saturday? That’s right, as well as putting your money where your mouth is, you can put your feet there too…

Just Do It introduces those of you unaware to the adventurous and inspiring world that is UK Climate Change Activism. A cause that has been documented, reported and championed in these very pages in the Earth Section established by Amelia Gregory. It is a cause that needs your help and your support – watch the trailer, watch the bike bloc and the guide to Climate Camp. Watch all the videos and if you feel inspired and want to know what to do next, the answer is multifold. First you can visit the website, donate and find out how you can get involved if your time rich but cash poor…

The Crude Awakening is a mass action aimed at waking up the oil industry, to the responsibility they owe the earth. There are three different mass actions to get involved in – click on the links to find out more about each, and to sign up to receive SMS texts as the action takes place, from 10am this Saturday 16th October…

Dirty Money Bloc – Drawing attention to the involvement of BANKING in the oil industry, for example RBS has been linked to extremely devastating practice of mining the Canadian Tar Sands. If you like the sound of holding your own space and being creative to beat the oil industry… If this sounds out like your bag, find out where to meet here.

Building Bloc – The building and occupying of space through structures expressing dissent at the unchecked flow of both oil and finance. If you have a head for heights and want to be actively involved, click here to find out more…

Finally the Body Bloc celebrates the “carnival of life, death, fun and resistance.”

Do you have an imaginative idea of life beyond (and without) oil and wish to turn the impossible possible? Sign up here.

Illustration by Faye West

So that’s two things you can do alongside your recycling – the first is find out how you can support Just Do It and the second is to check out the Crude Awakening Saturday 16th October.

All photography by Amelia Gregory.

Those of you who follow me on twitter will know of my plans for a smash and grab raid on the new Ai Weiwei exhibition, dosage Sunflower Seeds, at the Tate Turbine Hall this afternoon. I’m gonna get me some sunflower seeds before they all get taken or a small child chokes on one and they have to close it down, I thought to myself. It just all sounded a bit too irresistible to a collector and hoarder like myself. Well, I’ve just got back and I thought I’d better let you know – it’s not a question of whether you’ll be able to take a few seeds home with you, but how many, and how….

Sunflower seeds are associated with the Cultural Revolution, sunshine and human compassion. The mind-boggling one hundred million porcelain pieces that cloak the floor of the Turbine Hall were created by the skilled workers of Jingdezhen, a small town near Beijing, folk whose ancestors once made fine china for the emperors. They don’t get much of that kind of employment anymore, and the accompanying film paints them as thankful for the work. “I think the quantity we made for the Tate is already beyond imagination… it is going to be some kind of myth in the history of this town,” says Ai Weiwei as he looks benignly upon his workers like some latter day emperor of mass production.

Video stills.

But whilst the sunflower seeds are the antithesis of the complex porcelain work that was once made here, each seed is nevertheless unique, lovingly painted to resemble one another but never the same – just as in nature. The women (for it is only women who do the painting) are shown smiling and chatting in their tight jeans and sparkly high heels as they dip their brushes in black paint. In a family home Ai Weiwei fiddles on his mobile phone – tweeting, perhaps – as an elderly matron delicately goes about her work. Most of the population of this town were engaged in the project in some way, even if they only had a few hours to spare. One can’t help but wonder what happens to them now that Ai Weiwei has taken his leave.

I haven’t seen the Turbine Hall so busy since Olafur Eliasson’s infamous Weather Project wowed visitors in 2003, and that’s bearing in mind that it’s only been two days since Ai Weiwei’s impressive installation opened. In the same way that visitors played beneath the luminescent sun, so Ai Weiwei encourages you to interact with this visceral artwork. He wants you to stomp on the sunflower seeds, bury yourself in them, throw them in the air. Porcelain, it transpires, is remarkably tough – and that’s exactly what people were doing, both young and old – as I wandered amongst the porcelain dust.

Ah yes, the dust. That’s the bit the other reviews neglect to mention… an employee with a rake was tidying the edges of the sunflower seeds, fully masked up – I can’t imagine what it would do to your lungs to work with this artwork for the next six months.

Ai Weiwei says that “art is a tool to set up new questions” and indeed the very best kind of art does just that. He has chosen one very simple object, laden with cultural metaphor, then used the oldest trick in the book to magnify it’s meaning – repeat ad infinitum. What is special about this piece is the total transparency of the artwork’s creation. We all own so many goods that were made in China, but we never really stop to think about where, from what or how they were put together. But Ai Weiwei invites us all to become part of the process, from the creators profiled on a looping video screen, to the audience, who are encouraged to leave filmed messages and tweets about the artwork. We are all part of something at once mundane and at the same time filled with love. Sunflower Seeds will go down in history as one of the most memorable installations shown in the Turbine Hall.

Now, back to those china souvenirs I was after… I easily pocketed a whole handful, then inadvertently removed a load more in the soles of my shoes. Then, like the bread crumbs left for Hansel and Gretel, I picked up still more as I followed a trail of sunflower seeds leading away from the Tate towards the Thames.

Stuck in my shoes…

Ai Weiwei himself is quoted as saying “If I was in the audience I would definitely want to take a seed“, and despite half-hearted protestations to the contrary from the Tate, I can’t help but think that this is exactly what he planned all along. Here’s my bowl of Ai Weiwei sunflower seeds. The question is not only how many will be left on the floor of the Turbine Hall in a few months time but, does it matter anyway? Maybe Sunflower Seeds will quietly and slowly disappear to be cherished in homes across the world – small but pertinent reminders of what it takes to make something, however mass produced and throwaway it seems.

Joe Goddard is one very content man at present, try and rightly so. Since the release of The Warning in 2006, sales Hot Chip have been a prominent fixture in the pop culture limelight thanks to the cult success of singles Boy from School and Over and Over. The Putney based electro pop pioneers have released two albums since then and they still seem to be at the forefront of everyone’s minds as one of the most interesting groups of this generation. When Goddard talks about his band’s good fortune, it is instantly obvious that this is what he has always wanted and it’s not something he is likely to take for granted any time soon.
“I am much more financially secure than I was before The Warning came out,” says the reluctant icon. “Until The Warning happened a lot of us were still working, but now life is easier. I am very happy being in my own little world and making music.”
Goddard may look like the socially awkward uncle you only ever encounter briefly at family gatherings with an obligatory handshake and stagnant conversation about how you have grown so much since he seen you last, but his ability to execute dance floor friendly electro pop has allowed Hot Chip to cause frenzies at some of the most respected venues in the world. This seems nothing short of extraordinary when Goddard talks about how the band started out.
“For a long time we didn’t know exactly what we were doing,” admits the bearded enigma. “We were used to walking out on stage and something going wrong at some point, but now we have people who take care of everything so we can just concentrate on having fun. I’m really happy about that because now I can just enjoy playing with the other people in the band.”

However, he is the first to admit that being a showman isn’t something that comes naturally to him, especially when faced with a massive crowd that is brimming with expectation. “When you are playing to a festival audience you have to remember that are a lot of people that are really far away. Anything that you say into the microphone has to be emphasised so that someone 100 yards away knows what’s going on. That’s a hard thing to learn because it doesn’t come naturally to me. I’m not Freddy Mercury.”
Despite Hot Chip’s ability to break the UK Singles Chart top ten on several occasions and Goddard’s appearances on popular television shows including Never Mind the Buzzcocks and Friday Night with Jonathan Ross, the singer has managed to avoid the trappings of becoming a sought after tabloid celebrity thus far and this is something he seems extremely relieved by.

“We are not stars,” states Goddard with a deadpan tone that lets you know he really means it. “People recognise me occasionally but not enough that it has started to bug me. I can still ride the tube and not be recognised.”
The response to Hot Chip’s fourth studio album, One Life Stand, has been extremely favourable so far and, unlike many of his contemporaries, Goddard is the first to admit that despite searching for artistic satisfaction in his work, it does matter to him that critics appreciate what he and fellow band mates have created.
“I’m really happy that the album has been received well,” says Goddard. “I read some reviews of the new M.I.A. record and there was this massive backlash. It made me realise that we have been pretty lucky throughout our career.”

This positive reviews of One Life Stand must come as a relief, as Hot Chip’s last album, Made in the Dark, was met with mixed reviews. Critics failed to understand the juxtaposition of traditional ballads alongside chaotic electro tracks, with many claiming that the album lacked focus. When Goddard speaks about the way in which One Life Stand was received, there is no indication of hostility towards the critics that failed to appreciate the experimental approach with which they approached the album. In fact, he almost seems to agree with their deductions.

“Made in the Dark was unusual because there were very mixed reactions,” reflects the multi-talented producer. “Some people said there were too many crazy bits and some people said there were too many ballads. It wasn’t as cohesive an album as The Warning or One Life Stand. Still, generally it still did well.”
He’s not bloody kidding. Despite the fact that Hot Chip’s follow up to The Warning wasn’t fully understood by critics it still sold well, peaking at number four on the UK Album Chart. All those critics might be sitting at home feeling pretty smug with themselves for trashing one of the coolest bands in contemporary culture, but Goddard and his merry band of electro peddlers must have been laughing all the way to the bank.
Hot Chip have been travelling the globe consistently for the past five years but no cracks appear to be showing. There have been no mentions of backstage bust-ups and the band seems more solid than ever. As Goddard explains, this may be down to the fact that they have all found ways to deal with being in such close proximity to each other for extended periods of time.
“Sometimes you need to avoid people for your own sanity,” jokes the unlikely front man. “I sometimes go out for a walk during the day and try to find a record shop. I like my own company and I am happiest when I am at home on my own making music.”
“The relationship with the rest of the band is very similar to the relationship I have with my brother. I love them so much but there are so many things about them that wind me up, so sometimes you have to ignore those things and focus on all of the things you like.”

With such demanding touring commitments, and the fact that Goddard’s wife is currently expecting their first child, it must be difficult being on the road for so long. “It is difficult,” asserts the singer. “I don’t want to sound like a spoiled brat because it’s not more difficult than someone who works at a hard nine to five job. Alexis (Taylor) has brought his partner and child on tour before. It worked out great because whenever you start to act a little spoiled you see this child and it shocks you into realising that there are things that are more important.”

In addition to the cult success of Hot Chip, Goddard and close friend Raf Rundell are currently causing a storm in the UK club scene as house duo, The 2 Bears. Despite dividing his time between the band and his new DJ project, he seems pleased that he has other creative avenues to explore with his music.
“It is really refreshing,” says Goddard. “Raf has a really good understanding of how house music works and he has taught me a lot. He gets on really well with the other guys in Hot Chip so it’s like we have a new friend, which is nice.”
The group have been performing at various festivals over the summer, including appearances at Rockness and Lovebox as part of the Toddla T curated Rizla Stage. These performances have unwittingly led to a heart warming experience that Goddard reflects on fondly.
“Rockness was really good because there was a wonderful vibe in the crowd,” enthuses the producer. “One guy got us to turn down the sound so he could propose to his girlfriend. It was a fantastic night and Rizla had a really good sound system.”
If you want your kids to have a successful career as an electronic artist, you may wish to enrol them in the Elliot School in Putney. Three members of Hot Chip (including Goddard) are graduates of the institution that boasts an impressive alumni including Kieran Hebden of Four Tet fame, dubstep pioneer Burial and the disgustingly hip down tempo three piece The XX. Even the Hot Chip front man doesn’t fully understand the phenomenon.
“I can’t really explain it to be honest,” says Goddard “My best guess is that it’s because the teachers were very inspiring. There was a wide range of kids from different backgrounds and the teachers taught you that you could do whatever you want when you left school. They weren’t pushing you into certain professions like being a lawyer or a banker.”
It sounds suspiciously like there are some dodgy canteen lunches getting dished out at that south London education facility.

Written by David McNamara on Thursday October 14th, 2010 10:38 am

Categories ,Electro Pop, ,Four Tet, ,Hot Chip, ,interview, ,Joe Goddard, ,Lovebox, ,M.I.A, ,Over and Over, ,Rockness, ,The 2 Bears, ,The Warning, ,The XX

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