Anti-dumping duty

Photographer and filmmaker Wang Jiuliang was apologetic as he gestured sheepishly at hundreds of plastic bags and bottles lying on two storage racks in his Chaoyang district studio. "Sorry about the smell. I collect these instant noodles packages and milk bottles from dumpsites," he explained.

Wang, an award-winning photographer renowned for his stark snapshots of landfills around Beijing, is working on his next big project titled "Super Market." His focus is still on China's waste management, although he has broadened his artistic horizons to include installation works. He also intends to persecute what he calls the "real criminal" responsible for the country's waste crisis: consumerism.

"In my works, trash is just a symbol. What I want to discuss is how people can curb excessive consumerism. Trash is very much related to capitalism in its mode of production and overproduction," explained Wang, who recently returned to the capital from last week's Melbourne International Film Festival where his documentary Beijing Besieged by Waste (2008-10) enjoyed two full-house screenings.

Brutal reality

From 2007 to 2008, Wang concentrated his lens on China's tradition of worshipping gods in his hometown of Anqiu, Shandong Province. It was during this project that he noticed the once clean countryside was littered with plastic bags and pesticide bottles. Upon returning to Beijing, the 36-year-old photographer questioned the value such "highbrow" art against the backdrop of a rapidly deteriorating environment.

From October 2010, Wang began investigating dumpsites in and around Beijing by tracking trucks transporting waste from the community where he lived. His investigation led him to 11 licensed, large-scale landfills around Beijing along with hundreds of illegal landfills where a considerable amount of garbage was sold to recyclers.

Wang found the illegal landfills spanned dozens of hectares, with waste piled up to 50 meters high. They swelled daily amid the continuous inflow of waste, with their growth matched by the construction of nearby skyscrapers and residential buildings.

"It wasn't only waste that was taking over the city; it seemed like the city was occupying the dumpsites as well," he recalled.

Illegal dumpsite owners routinely buried or incinerated waste after scrap peddlers salvaged any recyclable materials, Wang said.

"My aim was to expose the relationship between waste and its surrounding geographical and social environment, as well as its relationship with humans. This is why I didn't use a lot of close-ups or pay attention to fine details," he explained.

Wang's photos tell vivid stories. At a landfill located next to a stream in Zhenguan Niufang village of Beijing's northwest Changping district, herds of cattle graze on tufts of grass scattered among waste and drink tainted water from the river.

Behind the cattle, their milk is processed and sent to city, while fish caught from the pungent river are sold to small restaurants frequented by urban dwellers.

Because illegal dumpsites are shrouded in secrecy and their operators are sensitive about prying photographers, Wang's visits often ended with him being chased by hounds released by owners, men wielding kitchen knives and violent threats he might join the trash he snapped and be buried in a landfill one day.　

"Taking those photos was like engaging in guerrilla warfare. I had to learn to protect myself and be ready to run away quickly. It's too dangerous to go there by yourself," he mused.

Digging deeper

By the end of 2010, Wang had visited 500 dumpsites, taken around 10,000 photos and recorded over 60 hours of footage. Seventeen photos featured in his series "Beijing Besieged by Waste" won him the Outstanding Artist of the Year award at the 2009 Lianzhou International Photography Festival in South China's Guangdong Province.

Besides his achievements as a photographer, Wang has helped make a difference to the way Beijing manages its waste. In 2010, he led a team of journalists from the Xinhua News Agency on a seven-day field trip to various dumpsites around the capital. Their reports led the government to intervene and by the end of 2011, about 80 percent of illegal dumpsites had been closed.

His new "Super Market" project aims to arouse greater public awareness. He compares his role as a "translator," expressing the link between consumerism and accumulation of trash via his photos and films.

"The complex economic and environmental theories are beyond the understanding of most average people, leading them to become indifferent about the problem," he noted.

"It took about 150 years for Western countries to have their own mode of consumption, but in China it has only taken 30 years. We used to uphold a frugal lifestyle, but now we are victims of excessive consumption."

But Wang is modest in his mission. He admits it's not easy for him to expose in-depth problems about waste management because of his scant knowledge of its deeper issues.

Rise as social activist

Despite his accolades, Wang's works haven't always generated positive reviews. Art critic Dun Jun noted his photos aren't very creative in depicting waste, which has been a popular subject among many artists since the late 1990s.

But Wang is undeterred by such criticism, insisting his pursuits today are rooted more in social activism than art.

"A lot of artists use trash in works, but in my works trash is the subject and not the medium or material. Nowadays, I see myself as a photographer and social activist instead of an artist," said Wang, who has given a number of talks on dumpsites and waste across the country.

"I can shoot artistic photos or create beautiful images, but when I go to a gallery now I don't see the connection between them and me. What I'm doing now is shedding the artistic elements in my works so they can represent reality.

"When a photographic work is less artistic, it's easier to show the true side of a problem and easier for the public to relate it to their lives," he said.