Tag Archive for '%e8%80%81%e4%b8%8a%e6%b5%b7'

25
Apr

Book Review and Giveaway of “Shanghai Shikumen” (上海里弄文化地图)

By Sue Anne 21 Comments
Categories: Exhibits, Talks and Publications, The Fading Vestige and What I Am Reading

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UPDATE: Congratulations to Patrick, the 10th commentator! Random.org picked you out of 18 commenators. Drop me an email via the contact sheet and I will dispatch the book to you!

Thanks again to everyone who participated! For those who are in Shanghai, remember to pick up a copy! Amazon.cn has it on sale.

** I am giving one free copy to a lucky reader regardless of where you are in the world. Leave a comment below about yourself and why you’d like a copy. Entries close 5 minutes before midnight May 3, Beijing time. I will pick the winner at random. **

(欢迎中文读者！如果想用中文来看博科，可以在右边点下翻译钮 “Blog translated”)。 我会选出一位幸运读者送出《上海里弄文化地图》的一本书。请在博客文章下留下个人发言，介绍自己。比赛5月3日半夜停止。我会随机选择。)

For me, the hardest thing about documenting Shanghai’s ubiquitous lilong (or lanes) residences and shikumen isn’t the tedious amount of time invested in research and photographing them, but surprise, surprise, actually finding the hidden gems.

While there is substantial and organized information on Shanghai’s western architecture thanks to dedicated archivists including Tess Johnston and Paul French, there is no equivalent English directory for the hundreds of Shanghai shikumen and lanes, which is a challenge given their rate of demolition.

As an outsider without initimate knowledge of the city, I depend a great deal on the internet, Google maps and collecting anecdotes from residents to piece together the what, where and whys.

There was one key source I often turned to – a photographer on Flicker and the Chinese equivalent, Douban who went by the name of Gropius (the famous German architect who pioneered the Bauhaus School) or Xi Zi (席子). His work was a treasure trove of beautiful shikumen and lanes that I never knew existed, along with names and addresses, which I would use to guide myself around the city. He was receptive to questions and had a large Shanghainese following online.

A few years ago, while shooting in a heap of what used to be a beautiful structure in Hongkou, I met a man in his late 30s, early 40s doing the same thing. Lo and behold, it was Xi Zi.

We became friends and I’d meet up with him on several occasions to shoot and even interviewed him for the blog. He almost never used a map and knew of hidden spots that even local Shanghainese had no idea existed. He photographed the same places over and over again, mapping a timeline of their demise.

After 5 years of continuous shooting, Xi Zi (whose full name is Xi Wenlei (席闻雷)) and his good friend Jiang Qinggong (姜庆共) (or Lao Jiang as he calls himself, a well-known publisher of history and the arts) have finally put out one of the best photo books on Shanghai shikumen that you’ll ever find. Both authors grew up in shikumens and as Xi Zi once said to me, for the younger generation, the shikumen will be just a concept as many of them have never lived in one.

“Shanghai Shikumen” or more accurately “Shanghai Lilong Culture and Map” (上海里弄文化地图) condenses explanations and diagrams of various shikumen styles, 40 shikumen lilong travel guides, 400 shikumen lilong directories and 120 accompanying images of both the exteriors and interiors of the shikumen.

Interestingly, Xi and Jiang have chosen to emphasize their work in images rather than in text, a departure from traditional Chinese publishing standards. The best part of the book is the litany of maps (both pre-1949 and the present) that help the tracking and identification of shikumen and lilongs more efficiently. All in both English and Chinese.

For the authors, the book is as much a way to reach out to the younger generation of Shanghainese about their history, as it is appealing to foreigners with a deeper curiosity of the Chinese aspect of Old Shanghai.

That this easily accessible shikumen guide has not been published earlier is baffling to me, which is why I recommend readers to pick up a copy and start exploring as some of these neighborhoods may not be around for too long.

Where to buy

“Shanghai Shikumen” (上海里弄文化地图), 162 pages, March 2012, Tongji University Press (RMB 42)

1. Dukou Bookshop(s) (上海渡口书店)

- 828 Julu Lu, near Fumin Lu, Jingan District 静安区巨鹿路828号, 近富民路

- 245 Madang Lu, B1, Xintiandi Style Mall, 卢湾区马当路245号新天地时尚B1楼

- Online bookstore

2. Link Shanghai Gallery in Tianzifang (搭界)

- No. 5 Lane 248 Taikang Lu, Shanghai 上海市泰康路248弄5号

04
Jan

A review of 2011 (part three)

By Sue Anne 2 Comments
Categories: Exhibits, Talks and Publications, Off the Streets of Shanghai and Street Stories

This is the third installment of my review of 2011. Picking a favorite story from each month is difficult. All posts take time, including research, photo editing and writing and re-writing each paragraph to the best effect. It can sometimes be tiresome, especially when I would linger on a post for weeks, to the point of it remaining stubbornly unpublished. And believe me, there are quite a few. I sometimes have to revisit the place to jog the memory of the details, smells and sounds.

Yet there are moments which pass you by as quickly as they come. A look, a body movement or a sound can trigger an entire composition never to be recreated ever again.

July: I published a piece on exploring the port architecture of Shantou in Guangdong, where the Old Quarters, while crumbling miserably, is a beautiful place worth visiting. The city is home to Teochews, a dialect group, of which the overseas disapora number over 30 million.

Another favorite is “Reflections at high noon”, a photo essay on the most unknowing inspiration for street photography.

August: I’ve often feature the Chinese street photography collective Zaijietou.com (在街头) as an example of the popularity of street photography among a select few in China. Here, an interview of Chinese and German perspectives on street photography in China.

September: In lieu of blogging, my September was packed with activities. My biggest event was  “The Living Streets of Shanghai and the Hague”, a video exhibit by Shanghai and the Hague’s best street photographers. I co-organized it with  Five Spices, a Dutch design company, and the exhibit was held in Shanghai and subsequently in the Hague.

One of the featured photographers of the above exhibit was Tan Tien Yun, whom I interviewed. Working in the one of the countless factories in Minhang, Tien Yun took the time to take in the the more rural aspects of Shanghai’s suburbs including the local migrant communities.

A review of 2011 (part one) (part two) (part three)

16
Aug

The Majestic Theatre under renovation

By Sue Anne 5 Comments
Categories: Street Stories

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Hands cupped on both sides, I peered inside the dusty and vacant lobby of the Majestic Theatre (美琪大戏院), searching for a way in to no avail. I tested one entrance after another, stymied by the chain locks. At one point, I caught a strong whiff of urine and noted stained splatters against the side of the walls.

The Majestic Theatre has been closed for renovations, from what I gather to be since December of last year. Nestled behind the busy shopping street of Nanjing West Lu (南京西路), along Jiangning Lu (江宁路), the theatre is an iconic landmark for its historical Art Deco design, known to be one of the oldest and most ornate theatres¹ with a well-built sound system. From the outside, nothing much has changed from its original structure.  

The Majestic has also had many defining screenings and performances in its time, from the theatre’s inaugural screening of the muscial movie by 20th Cenutry-Fox Film “Kentucky Moonshine“² in 1941 to defining performances including the famous Peiking opera singer Mei Lanfang (梅兰芳) who played the dan (旦角)(leading female) role in Chinese opera before 1949 and Soviet-era actress Galina Sergeyeva during Communist times.

The theatre was designed and completed in 1941 by one of the leading Chinese architects Robert Fan (Fan Wenzhao) (1893-1979), who had also designed the Nanking Theater, now the Shanghai Concert Hall amongst other numerous government buildings, universities and private residences in and and out of Shanghai. He was part of the first generation of Chinese architects who were educated overseas, in Fan’s case at the University of Pennsylvania in the early 1920s. His peers include Dong Dayou, Zhao Shen, Tong Jun and Yang Tingbao (the latter three were also UPenn alums), many of whom introduced a unique blend of Western and Eastern architectural design. Fan’s achievements, along with his peers, were made more remarkable in a time dominated by foreign influence and presence in Shanghai.

Placed under heritage protection, the Majestic Theatre is likely to remain for a long time and perhaps all renovations will be inside rather than out. The entrance has since turned into a mini parking lot for scooters and sales points for fruit hawkers angling for more business, you know, business as usual.

¹For a look at Shanghai’s old cinemas, check this out.

² Baidu’s Chinese description mentioned 美国福克斯公司的五彩歌舞片《美月琪花》which is “American Fox Company’s colorful musical …” and what I pieced together to be “Kentucky Moonshine” produced in 1938. If I am mistaken, kindly let me know.

August 2011

20
Jul

The life and times of an old brick in Luwan* district

By Sue Anne 2 Comments
Categories: The Fading Vestige

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Located only minutes away from the hectic Xintiandi (新天地), the desolate longtang was as barren as the silence was deafening. February’s wintery cold only added to the vacuum.

More than two thirds of the shikumen in this neighborhood along Jinan Lu (济南路) between Hubin Lu (湖滨路) and Taicang Lu (太仓路) has been demolished. What had been weaving alleys crowded with residents a year or two ago was now a giant plot of land strewn with debris and weeds.

In a bright orange worker’s uniform, he looked like a traffic cone amidst the many scattered piles of brick. Behind him, the iconic stone arches of the remaining shikumen were prominent but dull with age. Their expansive entrances were a tell-tale sign of the wealth of the original tenants when they were first built.

Hunched over, the man was searching for something in the ground. The back of his uniform had “Luwan municipality (or district)”  emblazoned in the back.  As I neared, I noticed he was wearing thick gloves with a blunt instrument in hand. He picked up bricks, examine them and scrape off layers of dirt, finally tossing them a nearby wheelburrow.

Why ignore the perfectly fine looking bricks in then nearby piles? I wondered, and plucked a solid brick from a storey-high pile to give him, like a child who had discovered an intriguing piece of trash for the first time.

He smiled but shook his head. The good bricks were reserved by the demolition company which will haul them away to be reused, he said. He wanted bricks that were discarded by the workers but in good enough condition to build a temporary wall elsewhere.

And it couldn’t be just any kind of brick. His preference was for older clay bricks, which had been baked fierily in the early part of the 20th century, and held up better than the grey cement ones. To prove his point, he hacked off a corner of a brick, revealing a fresh, almost bold, reddish hue. The clay was so densely packed it looked brand new.

He continued, “These bricks should be over 60 – 70 years old, German made too.” He tapped one that was engraved with the word “Lun Hing” which sounded more like a Cantonese firm than a European one. Later, no amount of online research revealed the name in question, and perhaps some rifling of old reference texts will be necessary.

As old houses are demolished, the bricks one finds can be very revealing from the color and texture (red clay to grey stone), to the sometimes mysterious hieroglyphic symbols, Chinese characters or untraceable English words. Regardless, good quality bricks that they are, their life span can be long. For one, they transition from being part of a wall of someone’s home for decades to that of a tempoarary filler used to seal the entrance of a shikumen to prevent squatters.

As the man wheeled his harvest away, I walked along a temporary wall made entirely out of recycled bricks, a mix of grey, red and wet cement holding it all together. I traced my finger around the bend, only to reach a faux brick wall made out of cardboard, upon my disappointing exit.

February 2011

* It should be noted that Luwan will no longer be a stand-alone district, and is to merge with neighborhing Huangpu district as of June 2011.

28
Feb

Mosaic-tiled public service posters in Ruihua Lane

By Sue Anne 5 Comments
Categories: Art, Games and Hobbies, Street Stories and The Lives Within

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[Note: I've closed comments on this specific post as it seems to attracting spammers.]

I wasn’t quite sure how I landed in Ruihua Lane (瑞华坊) which is nestled between Fuxing Middle Lu (复兴中路) and Hefei Lu (合肥路). It wasn’t the most direct of routes but I found myself admiring a display of public service posters made up entirely of large mosaic tiles.

I caught an older resident walking his dog, and asked if he knew when these posters went up. Sometime in early 2000s, he replied, not too long ago.

Though slightly fading, the posters, in good Party-like slogan fashion, reminded residents of behaviors that supported a civilized society: protecting the environment (绿化美化，保护环境), maintaining neighborly and familial harmony (邻里团结，家庭和睦) (with the classic 2 grandparents-2 parents-1 child family structure), keeping law and order (遵纪守法，遵纪秩序), helping others in the footsteps of the exemplary revolutionary hero Lei Feng (学习雷锋，助人为乐)  and promoting the belief in science to combat superstitions (普及科学破除迷). The cartoons were cleanly drawn, made to resemble that of a young child, but effective.

But why here on Ruihua Lane, and not anywhere else? I wondered. After searching for similar art in neighboring lanes, I found other mosaic-tiled posters but only with more detailed text (of soft warnings for safety) and no pictures.

After a little bit of research, I found out that Ruihua Lane was believed to be a good neighborhood due to its proximity of wealthier occupants in nearby Jinan Lu (济南路) before 1949. It was also close to the site of the first National People’s Congress (全国人民代表大会) meeting on July 23, 1921 which was also marked the birth of the Chinese Communist Party. Or as most would know it now as Xintiandi (新天地). Politicians attending the NPC meeting had apparently resided in Ruihua Lane during that time including Leng Yuqiu who had served in the Republic of China army and met with Mao Zedong, Zhou Enlai and Zhu De.

Sadly, in a matter of another year or so, Ruihua Lane would be no more. Almost a third of the residents in that lane have moved out and the entrances to their homes have been bricked up to prevent squatters. But mostly as a ringing sign of its pending demise. This is the case of many neighboring lanes in the area.

While the mosaic posters were not heavily aged, they were an evolved version of civil propaganda, using long-standing Party concepts but revised for more modern times as opposed to older images of peasants and workers. We’ve left that behind us a long time ago.

As such, they made a colorful addition to the lane’s character. The only irony is that as reminders of enduring good behavior, they will suffer the fate of a limited shelf life.

February 2011

05
Jan

New year greetings! And a 2010 review (part one)

By Sue Anne 1 Comment
Categories: Street Stories, The Fading Vestige and The Lives Within

I trust you had an exciting New Year eve’s celebration? May 2011 bring you good tidings and happiness, and for all my photography friends, a productive and inspiring year!

It remains chillingly cold in Shanghai. I escaped to Guangzhou for a short vacation over the New Year to see a friend and revel in delicious southern cuisine and what I had hoped to be warmer weather. Alas, the latter proved to be a major folly and I spent the weekend shivering in wet cold. Nevertheless, for those who have  yet to visit, I recommend it. Guangzhou has a rich modern history, especially with Sun Yat Sen’s many efforts in establishing his presidency, a lively African and Middle Eastern community and a diverse selections of Teochew and Cantonese cuisine.

For the next few posts, I thought I’d do a short review of my favorite photos for 2010. Tis’ a poor excuse,  really,  for not shooting of late, mostly because of the stready stream of visitors, the wretched weather, and a backlog of writing and photography-related projects at hand.

January: “The Remaining Days” -  While this longtang on Haimen Lu (海门路) (near Changyang Lu (长扬路)) has surrendered to be converted into a new metro stop for Line 12, this lane holds a special place in my heart for the remaining residents who stayed till the end.

February: “The Singing Ship” – This old and rusting ship was moored off the Pudong side of the Huangpu River (黄浦江) by Zhangyang Harbour (张扬码头), but is no longer there.

Also in Febuary, the inaugural Behind the Camera interviews with respected photographers of Shanghai. Howard French of “Disappearing Shanghai” fame shared his experiences as a photographer while serving as bureau chief of the New York Times’ Shanghai office.

March: “When You Slow Down” – A reminder of how to overcome a photographer’s bloc. To sit still and just let go.

A review of 2010 (part two) (part three) (part four)

31
Dec

The Roving Exhibit: Anguo Lu

By Sue Anne 10 Comments
Categories: The Roving Exhibit

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My first patron hovered quietly at first, peering over my shoulder as I set up my photo boards. Timidly, she asked if I had taken the photographs. I nodded.

Pondering a while more, she suddenly blurted, “It’s okay, I guess. Your photography needs a bit more work. Like that photo of the chicken hawker for example, the man next to her has his head cropped off. You shouldn’t do that.”

Satisfied with her two cents worth, she ambled back to her makeshift stall selling socks and kitchen towels. A bit thrown off, I thought to myself: Well, this should be interesting.

Choosing the inaugural location

Earlier in the day, I had picked up my freshly printed photo boards and decided that there was no better time than to begin the Roving Exhibit.

For the inaugural exhibit, I chose to set up in the street market in Tilanqiao which I photographed frequently. I knew many of the vendors and familiar territory bode well in case of any potential “interventions”.

Finding good real estate on a busy sidewalk of a street market is hard. Avoiding Dongyuhang Lu (东余杭路) due to the mess of hawkers selling vegetables, fish and poultry, I settled in on Anguo Lu (安国路). Street traffic wasn’t too overwhelming and was made up of mostly vendors selling sundries and residents playing cards or carom.

I negotiated the use of two old rickety chairs from a husband and wife street barber duo to hold my photo boards. The lady boss cheerily said it should provide some entertainment for her waiting customers. The husband seemed less enthused.

Curious and curiouser

Traffic was halting initially but the ebb and flow of patrons was diverse if not amusing to watch. Neighbouring vendors selling a kaleidoscope of knick knacks popped over when they had a free moment while keeping a watchful eye on their wares.

Sometimes, cyclists would wheel toward the boards or just slow down for a glance. My area was kept clean as the street sweeper would absently sweep the same spot as he examined the photos. Lingering patrons sat on stools while waiting for their haircut next door. Customers of nearby vendors had an occasional glance but found shopping a lot more interesting.

Reactions ranged from scepticism, amusement to bafflement. The first and most common question posed by residents when they pass by was: “What is the point of this?” I spent much of my time explaining the intention of the exhibit and describing the location behind each photo. It was entirely free, or just art’s sake, I added to one gentleman in particular. He eyed me suspiciously as he slowly walked away.

Tough crowd, tough love

It was interesting to observe how the conversations essentially broke down into two groups:

Shanghai residents were often more conversationally engaged with the photos. They immediately identified the idea of 动迁 (dong qian) – the process of moving out of old homes after government negotiates a settlement. Naturally, the discussions almost always drifted toward real estate, a given in China, the impact of 动迁 (dong qian) i.e how much or little money one can make from it, how to prepare for it etc.

Due to the fact that I spoke no Shanghainese, or appeared to live in the neighborhood, the Shanghainese residents would engage amongst themselves. A few would hold court in front of the photo boards, some taking upon themselves to introduce and explain the work. Feedback ranged from cursory acknowledgement to extensive critiques on how and what I photographed. “Why are the colors like this?” “You need to have signs that tell us what they are.” “Why don’t you shoot this and not that?” This was not a place to seek effusive praise.

Memorable conversations too centered on camera equipment (they always, always wanted to know the cost of my gear) and one resident in particular, who worked with the local housing danwei, gave me his contact information while advising where else I should photograph in the area.

The other group was migrant workers, distinguished by their length of stay in the city and familiarity with Shanghai. They focused more on the the style and composition of the photos. Several noted details like colors, shadows and objects that others had missed. There were definitely some who focused entirely on cost: how much the camera and lens cost, the printing cost and if I had a job and how much I earned in Shanghai and if not, Singapore. It seemed natural, having left home for economic reasons, to sketch their world by value of what they can and cannot have.

All in all…

The exhibit lasted for about 3 hours. The repeated conversations and swirling wind were tiring me out. As the skies darken and dinner time beckoned, the crowds grew but were mainly hurried. Without any street lamp to aid browsing patrons, I called it a day and packed up, bidding adieu to my gracious hosts, the street barbers, for their hospitality and chairs.

November 2010

Learn more about the Roving Exhibit.

03
Dec

Laundry

By Sue Anne 4 Comments
Categories: Street Stories and Take To the Street

On a brilliant and sunny Saturday along Wangjiamatou Lu (王家码头路).

A photog friend once said to me that she never liked photographing old houses on the weekends. “Too much laundry hanging out in the streets,” she said. It obscured the details of the houses she photographed.

I think this explains why I never really get many good architectural shots.

November 2010

28
Oct

Before and after on Sinan Lu

By Sue Anne 2 Comments
Categories: Street Stories and The Fading Vestige

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The contrast on both sides of the streets is only as jarring as you make it to be, or notice at all.

Standing in the middle of Sinan Lu (思南路), facing Fuxing West Lu (复兴西路), one noted commercial development and ostentatious luxury stood face to face with the ghosts of past riches. Yet history and the present are embodied by the tradition of old European-styled villas. Only, the villas on the right had its layout redesigned, foundations tilted sideways, its innards replaced with modern amenities (lifts!), and the courtyards beautified with plenty of commercial landscaping. On the other side of the street stood the original structures, tired, broken down and empty of its occupants.

Aesthetically, Sinan Mansions*, as the new development is called, was … underwhelming. Nevertheless, the swath of new restaurants, lounges and luxury hotels are expected to be warmly received by crowds who would at least appreciate this interpretation of heritage preservation while sipping RMB 100 (USD 15) cocktails and dining in the RMB 40,000 (USD 5970) a night luxury villas.

Distracted by the shiny property development, many passers-by rarely give a second glance to the old villas across the street. After all, they were mostly obscured by walls and tall trees, the way the original owners, wealthy Chinese families and European expats, had intended for privacy. One villa in particular served as an outpost for Kuomintang spies overlooking Zhou Enlai’s residence (73 Sinan Lu), which now serves as a museum.

The collection of old villas (No. 52, 54, 56, Sinan Lu etc) had served (and continue to) as de-facto working spaces and dormitories for many workers building Sinan Mansions across the street. In the courtyards stood large sawing contraptions, loose metal rods, brick and stone and rusting motor engines. Amidst the green foliage, it looked like a scrap yard jungle.

Wandering through the old houses, you’d see stacks of bunk bed structures dismantled and stacked against the walls. Abandoned loose shoes, chopsticks, broken furniture and the occasional underwear were scattered around, denoting signs of past daily lives. The house had been slowly decaying over the years, evidenced by the rotting wood in doors, ceilings, walls and floor, as well as the copious amount of dust wedged in every crevice.

One particular villa which was kept in better shape was filled with occupants, seen by some bolted doors, and unlocked rooms that were outfitted with bunk beds, basic kitchen ware and calendars on the walls.

I chanced upon a danwei (单位/work unit) meeting underway, where a female manager was briefing a group of workers on how to behave as Sinan Mansions opened up to the public.

“Whether you are cleaning or fixing things, make sure to keep your clothes on and look neat. There will be guests walking around, our leaders and some from abroad, so be civilized and do not spit or sleep on the floors!” Everyone laughed nervously.

When they found me skulking nearby with a camera and tripod, a worker, at the insistence of his manager, said politely to me, “We’re having a meeting now, you cannot be here.” As he walked me out, I apologized for interrupting. Pausing, he then whispered, “We finish at about 3pm, you can come back later.”

So what is one to make of all this? It is a matter of days before the orgy of Expo activity comes to an end, and major construction across the city is set to resume. This set of villas are next to be “refurbished” and replicated to complement Sinan Mansions. By the end of the year, this side of Sinan Lu will begin its cosmetic surgery.

September 2010

*Christopher St. Cavish wrote a good overview of what the Sinan Mansions development is all about and explains how you can exercise your wealth  in the various F&B and luxury hotel establishments. Elaine Chow penned a very personal and heartfelt account of family history tied to that part of the neighborhood.

25
May

Lessons from shooting 2010 我在上海 世博特刊 (Part 2)

By Sue Anne 9 Comments
Categories: Exhibits, Talks and Publications, Street Stories and The Lives Within

I’ve been wanting to share stories from a photo shoot I did for <<2010 我在上海 世博特刊>> “2010 In Shanghai: World Expo edition” but preferred to wait until the travel magazine hit the stands.

I wanted to capture children of fishmongers, poultry and vegetable hawkers at the Hongkou market, whom I’ve photographed many times before. With the adults’ expressed permission, I found myself in the longtangs amidst screaming kids, facing one hilarious challenge after another. Here are some humbling lessons I’ve learned, applicable, to all photographers.

Continue reading ‘Lessons from shooting 2010 我在上海 世博特刊 (Part 2)’

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