Growing up in Wisconsin, Michael Wang lived at the end of a quiet street, where a nearby park housed garter snakes in the remnants of an old farmhouse. One day, young Wang accidentally revealed the snakes' hiding place to neighborhood children, who then began to torment them. This incident, marked by Wang’s helplessness and the snakes' vulnerability, left a lasting impression on him, fostering a deep empathy for non-human life and an awareness of its fragility.
This early encounter with nature's vulnerability would lay the groundwork for Wang’s artistic journey. Influenced by his father, a geophysicist with a rigorous understanding of the natural world, Wang developed a distinctive approach blending art and science. His father's work on long-term nuclear waste storage in New Mexico sparked Wang's interest in the ethical complexities surrounding nuclear energy. These experiences, combined with his identity as a member of the AAPI+ community affected by the legacy of nuclear weapons, are reflected in his latest exhibition, Yellow Earth, at Bienvenu Steinberg & Partner from June 27 to August 31, 2024, in New York.
Eastern Standard Times sat down with Michael Wang to hear how he uses materials like uranium and aluminum to address the impacts of nuclear energy and its impact on Asian and Indigenous lands.
Xintian Tina Wang:
Growing up, were there specific experiences or anecdotes that directed you towards environmental issues and art?
Michael Wang:
The natural world has always been, for me, a place of wonder. These are aesthetic experiences. My father’sunderstanding of the natural world was intensely scientific. I grew up with a deep regard for science as a means to interpret the world, and have never been able to separate science from art: they are both fundamental tools to understand the world and communicate this knowledge. I don't believe there are clear boundaries between intellectual, emotional, and experiential knowledge. Ideas can be beautiful, and aesthetics carry meaning.
Xintian Tina Wang:
Yellow Earth not only deals with environmental themes but also reflects on your Asian identity and the historical targeting of Asian communities with nuclear weapons. How does your personal history and identity influence your work?
Michael Wang:
The show title is deliberately open-ended. While Yellow Earth might refer to the Navajo people’s word of uranium ore—leetso, which roughly translates to "yellow dirt"—I want it to take on other associations. I was thinking, also, of a racialized logic of color. "Yellow" people used to be a derogatory term referring to East Asian people. I was thinking, also, of the outsized impact of nuclear weapons on Asian people and Pacific Islanders, from Hiroshima and Nagasaki to the Bikini and Enewetak Atolls and the Daigo Fukuryū Maru fishing boat—the direct impact of nuclear weapons has been heavily borne by Asian and Pacific peoples.
In pieces such as Demon Core (Open), 2024, and Demon Core (Closed), 2024, I am trying to highlight the devastating impact of nuclear weapons on Asian people and Pacific Islanders. By designing these artworks to resemble a nuclear bomb originally intended to be the third dropped on Japan, I underscore the heavy toll these communities have endured. I question the justification that the atomic bomb was needed to end World War II, arguing that the resulting human devastation was partially used as 'tests' to observe the effects of these new weapons.
I found it shocking to watch the recent blockbuster Oppenheimer (a kind of paean to the "father" of the atomic bomb) and to see almost no Asian faces (much less speaking roles). There were of course Asian scientists such as Chien-Shiung Wu and Qian Xuesen who were a part of the Manhattan Project. The deliberate decision to exclude the devastation in Japan, to humanize the bomb-makers and not the bomb's victims, felt like an erasure.
As a person of Asian ancestry (my father was born in Shanghai), I think I felt this absence more acutely. I am also aware of the interlinking of representation and real-world violence. When a people are not allowed to be seen as fully human, it is that much easier to unleash violence on them. I do not believe the bomb was "necessary" to end the war with Japan. I do not believe this kind of indiscriminate death and destruction can ever be justified. While this might not have been a primary objective, the detonation of the bombs in Hiroshima and Nagasaki was, in some sense, "tests." Nothing could be more inhuman.
Xintian Tina Wang:
How do you reconcile the themes of Asian identity in your art?
Michael Wang:
While my works emerge from the non-human world (or where the human and the non-human intertwine), a sometimes secret biographical dimension can lead me to important sites, themes, or processes. My great-grandfather was deeply involved with the Three Gorges Dam. He not only commissioned the first feasibility study of the dam, but he also became a vocal opponent of the dam late in life. My grandfather, a civil engineer, dreamed of working on the dam. So the dam, even before its completion, had a place in my imagination long before I ever visited China for the first time. These images and stories provided the seed for my past show 10000 li, 100 billion kilowatt hours. My grandfather was from Wuxi on Lake Tai, and so his memories of the lake— in particular of hairy crab season—also implanted an image of the lake in my mind as a child. I explored these ideas when I was finally able to visit the lake to create the works for my show Lake Tai.
My very existence is the outcome of the global movement and migration of people. I don't feel I have a single "homeland." My work is often about movement, transformation, and hybridity.
Xintian Tina Wang:
Could you walk us through the process of creating one of the pieces in "Yellow Earth," such as the sealed aluminum tubes containing contaminated earth samples? Surely it’s challenging to incorporate radioactive materials safely into your artwork.
Michael Wang:
The sealed tubes were the outcome of a journey through New Mexico's uranium mining belt. I used a series of ArcGIS maps to find the locations of old mines. Many of the areas around these old mines remain contaminated. I sought out public lands near these mines where I used the tubes to make small samples of potentially-contaminated earth. I temporarily sealed each tube with a rubber stopper. Later, I hand polished each tube (a nod to De Maria's empty polished tubes) though they retain the scratches and pitting collected from their time "in the field." I permanently sealed each tube with milled aluminum stoppers, each engraved with the coordinates of the collection site.
Xintian Tina Wang:
Are there any new themes or materials you are eager to explore?
Michael Wang:
I am very excited about a new series of works that look at wind as both a meteorological phenomenon and as energy.
Xintian Tina Wang:
How do you see the role of art in sparking conversations and potentially driving change in societal attitudes toward environmental and identity issues?
Michael Wang:
Art is always expressive of, or comes out of, particular world views. While my art often ties into explicit or implicit art historical threads, or deals with processes that unfold across the spans of deep time, the work is always, ultimately, directed towards the future. I think art can not only reflect the world, but is a part of building that world.
