Ai Weiwei places himself, and us, deep inside the lives of refugees in his latest documentary, which adds a human touch to a global crisis
Ai Weiwei may be China's most famous contemporary artist and a prolific social justice activist. But at his core, Ai insists, he is simply an observer.
He's a wanderer too. Not to mention a relentless documenter - of the Chinese communist government, of international human rights violations, of the 40-some cats that roam his Beijing art studio and of the longtime team members who populate his Berlin art studio, a 150-year-old underground beer cellar.
Tonight it's the moon that has captured Ai's attention.
He arrived a few hours ago at LAX and now strolls languidly across his agent's Beverly Hills office courtyard, repeatedly stopping to take photos of the sky.
"Beautiful half moon," he says, breathing in the floral-scented night air.
He takes pictures of his agent's lobby and pictures of a framed picture on the lobby wall. Each time, he extends his arm without breaking his stride, briefly eyeballing the viewfinder from afar, an unemotional, matter-of-fact gesture: capture the moment.
In 2016, an accumulation of moments from the better part of a
