Dominating ShanghArt’s downstairs exhibition space was Moon Garden (2014–16). Created for “What About the Art? Contemporary Art from China,” curated by none other than Cai Guo-Qiang for Doha’s Al Riwaq Art Space last year, the monumental installation comprises two acrylic sheets, in an “S” and a “C” shape respectively. Liang estimates that almost 35,000 silkworms spun on the sheets’ surface, as well as on a series of small sculptural objects—metal daggers and shards of mirror—positioned on a thin coat of sand.

Liang explained that the work is both a nod to the rise and fall of the “cradle of civilization,” Mesopotamia, as well as to contemporary turbulence in the region, which today spans Iraq, Kuwait, parts of Syria, and southeast Turkey. Much like ancient treasures, strands of silk and grains of sand glimmer in the soft light while the “S” curve resembles the Arabic word for “Serenity,” lending a poetic nature to the work. The region’s modern-day turbulence, particularly in Mosul and Aleppo, is evidenced by those violent objects nestling in the sand, softened and swaddled by the spinnings of generations of silkworms’ that soothe a chaotic reality.

Continuing the ancient civilization trope, The Aegean Sea (2004–17) incorporates the iron bow of a boat, surrounded by sand, feathers and silk. Missing, the artist explained, is Nike, the winged goddess of victory in Greek mythology. Has she fled, the piece demands to know, leaving feathers and a silken garment in her retreat? Or are these the scattered belongings of a recently, secretly beached boat of intrepid Syrian refugees on the shores of, say, Lesbos?