Bronze Souls: Sculptor's Art Fortifies China's Nanjing Memory

BEIJING – December 12, 2025 – On the eve of China’s National Memorial Day for Nanjing Massacre Victims, internationally acclaimed sculptor Wu Weishan has ensured that the haunting echoes of history will resonate for generations to come. In a significant cultural and commemorative act, Wu has donated the original drafts of his landmark sculptures from the Memorial Hall for Victims of the Nanjing Massacre by Japanese Invaders back to the institution they define.

These works, born from a mission that began nearly two decades ago, are more than just bronze and clay; they are a visceral artistic testament to one of the darkest chapters of the 20th century. As the nation prepares for a day of solemn remembrance on December 13th—marked by sirens and moments of silence—this donation amplifies the role of art as a guardian of memory, a tool for justice, and a voice in a fraught historical dialogue.

Sculpting a Nation's Wounds

Wu Weishan’s connection to the tragedy runs deep, rooted in his time as a student in Nanjing in the 1980s. “The memory of the Nanjing Massacre was etched into my heart,” he recalled in an exclusive interview. When tasked in 2005 with creating the theme sculptures for the memorial’s major expansion, he saw it as a profound responsibility. “I resolved to portray the suffering of the victims... to revive their souls and let them converse with people living in peace today.”

His creative process was an exhaustive immersion into the abyss of history. Wu produced over 200 drafts, consulting historical records and interviewing the dwindling number of survivors to capture the raw emotion of the events. The result was three powerful sculpture groups that form the memorial's narrative core.

The central piece, Family Ruined, is a gut-wrenching depiction of a mother clutching her dead child, a universal symbol of loss. An accompanying inscription alludes to the unseen horrors: “The slaughtered son will never return, the buried husband will never return.”

The second group, Refugees, is a sprawling tableau of chaos and despair. It portrays unarmed civilians fleeing in terror—figures with lost limbs, families carrying their dead, and infants frozen to death. “I felt as if I could converse with the victims' souls, vividly portraying their states, expressions, and movements,” Wu explained. One figure, an elderly man holding his murdered, frozen grandson, his hands trembling with grief, exemplifies Wu's method of using artistic exaggeration to convey a deeper, emotional truth grounded in historical accounts.

The final piece, Screams of the Souls, stands as a monumental 12-meter-high exclamation point at the memorial's entrance. A hand erupts from a fractured mountain peak, pointing defiantly at the sky, symbolizing what Wu describes as “the desperate yet powerful cry of a weakened China.”

Art as Historical Fact and Diplomatic Voice

Wu’s donation is not merely a gesture of artistic philanthropy; it is a deliberate act of historical reinforcement. The event coincides with the 80th anniversary of the victory in the World Anti-Fascist War, a period marked by renewed focus on historical narratives, particularly concerning Japan. Wu himself noted the need to counter the “lingering specter of Japanese militarism” with “ironclad historical facts.”

This artistic push for a definitive historical record comes against a backdrop of ongoing friction. The Japanese government officially acknowledges that “the killing of noncombatants, looting and other acts occurred” in Nanjing in 1937 but maintains that determining a precise number of victims is “difficult.” This ambiguity has fueled revisionist narratives within Japan, where some prominent figures have minimized or denied the massacre, a source of constant diplomatic tension with China.

In this context, the Memorial Hall in Nanjing—built on a site known as a “pit of ten thousand people” where massacre victims were buried—functions as more than a museum. It is a state-sanctioned institution of national memory, education, and identity. Wu’s sculptures are central to its mission. By donating the original drafts, now cast in bronze, he aims to solidify their status as historical documents. “As sculptors, we have a responsibility to present ironclad historical facts through art,” he stated, framing the act as sending “China’s voice of justice to the world.”

Beyond Borders: A Universal Cry for Peace

While deeply rooted in Chinese national trauma, the power of Wu Weishan's work has transcended geopolitical divides. His assertion that “art that exposes ugliness and upholds justice will find global understanding and resonance” is substantiated by the sculptures' international journey.

In 2012, models of the statues were featured in an exhibition at the United Nations Headquarters in New York, where they were praised by then-Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon. The Russian Academy of Arts was so moved by their power that it acquired a set for its permanent collection. The images have even been integrated into children’s textbooks in South Korea, embedding the memory of the atrocity in the education of a neighboring country with its own painful history of Japanese occupation.

This global reception places Wu’s work in a lineage of great memorial art, from Holocaust memorials in Europe to monuments confronting civil war in the Americas. The sculptures' impact lies in their ability to distill a vast, complex tragedy into relatable human forms. The trembling hands of a grandfather, the silent scream of a mother, the panicked flight of a family—these are universal expressions of suffering that require no translation. Nobel laureate Chen Ning Yang was reportedly moved to tears upon seeing the designs, hearing in them the echoes of Japanese bombers from his own childhood.

A Legacy in Bronze for Future Generations

Wu Weishan’s artistic mission extends far beyond this single, seminal event. His body of work constitutes a broader project of sculpting China’s national story. He has created monuments to the New Fourth Army and Eighth Route Army, key anti-Japanese forces led by the Communist Party of China, as well as statues of international figures who aided China, like John Rabe.

His sculptures of Chinese historical and cultural giants, from Confucius to modern hybrid rice pioneer Yuan Longping, stand in public squares and academies from Berlin to Rome. He even placed statues of the monk Jianzhen and Sun Yat-sen in Japan, using cultural figures to foster a different kind of historical memory focused on shared heritage and positive contributions. “We must tell the world about a credible, respectable, and lovable China,” he remarked.

For Wu, sculpture is a dialogue across time, a medium for instilling values and historical perspective in future generations. He has been a vocal advocate for strengthening art education, believing that the heroic figures he immortalizes in bronze can serve as eternal role models. Through his art, he seeks not only to remember the past but to shape the future, using his chisel to sculpt the story of a nation for both its own people and the world.