Roots

Sorry for the relative blog silence of late.  Traveling home was time-consuming.  And, once here, family duties, work and jet lag have demanded my time.  Today, however, I  have found a moment to write...

Let me expand upon an observation from my trip to China.  It is something that had struck me when I was there in October 2006: rapid economic, social and cultural change has created a certain desire to reclaim Chines "roots," a sense of historical continuity with some sort of authentic and, I suppose, unchanging aspect of Chinese-ness.  This time around I saw this manifest to two ways.

First, when I went out to the 798 art district and walked through the exhibition by Qin Yufen, I noticed how her work was described as drawing upon her Chinese roots as a means of extracting meaning in the midst of globalization.  I should emphasize that this point was made by a German commentator in a statement at the outset of the exhibition and was not something that Qin herself was saying (I don't know what she might say).  But what struck me was how her work (whatever her own intentions) was being used as a symbol of sorts, standing for the possibility of maintaining some sort of cultural authenticity in the face of global cultural flows.

It should also be noted that in the particular exhibition that I saw (see photograph below) cultural Chinese roots were not obvious. The work was abstract to a point of being rather detached from any particular cultural referents.  (And I should say, I liked the installation).  I have no doubt that her other work, even the body of her work, includes more obvious Chinese elements.  It just wasn't evident in the piece I walked through.

Let me throw out a second experience before making a broader cultural point.

While walking through Nanluoguxaing one day I was accosted by a couple of young Chinese college students.  They were doing some survey research on perceptions of how Nanluoguxiang had developed in recent years.  One key aspect of their questions was the extent to which the street had essentially crossed some cultural line, moving from being essentially "Chinese" to something more "foreign."  One question was quite explicit: they asked for a determination of the balance of "Chinese" and "foreign" culture on the street.  I answered 70% "Chinese" and 30% "Foreign." (which is also the CCP's official assessment of Mao's good and bad points: 70% good, 30% bad; not sure if my interlocutors caught the reference...).

In any event, as I was responding to their questions, I was thinking that many Chinese people would likely have found my assessment laughable.  The place, with its bar and boutique culture, would appear to them to be so "foreign."  The commerce and decadence would be seen as clearly un-Chinese.  To my eyes, however, the preservation of traditional architecture and the very large presence of Chinese business owners and consumers made this much more of a "Chinese" location than, say the Chaoyang district with its modern high rises and international chain stores.  But different people will see things in different ways...

Now, let me try to tie these two observations together.

Both the art exhibition and the survey of Nanluoguxiang, it seems to me, are expressions of a more general desire to name and preserve Chinese "roots."  This is a completely understandable desire.  Any country that experiences as rapid socio-economic change as is going on in China today would also be cast into a search for something more culturally permanent and settled.  It is precisely when things are changing so drastically that we want to hold on to something that seems more permanent.

That being said, however, I think the search for authenticity is ultimately futile.  We cannot hold on to the past, indeed, if we think about it for a time, we probably do not want to hold on to the past.  There was never a time in the past that was wholly settled and pure.  Societies are constantly changing.  Cultural transformation is continuous.  We can pick a time in the past and try to isolate it and call that the "real" China, or the "real" America, or the "real" France, or whatever country we wish to consider; but that moment is itself a culmination of prior transformations; it is the result of many changes that have come before.  Why try to isolate one particular moment out of a much broader process of constant cultural flux?  Such desires to make the past into a kind of changeless purity tell us more about our present anxieties over the rate of socio-economic change than they provide an accurate picture of an ever-changing  history.

I guess, in this, I am fundamentally un-Confucian: there never was a golden age of the past when the sage-kings had it all right.

Again, I do not mean to suggest that Qin Yufen or the students I met are wrong to seek out some sense of "roots" (if that is what they were doing).  It is a project taken up by many people in many different cultural contexts.  I just don't think some sort of ultimate cultural authenticity can be discovered.  Culture is never "pure."

Also, I think the Daodejing would ward us away from being too self-conscious in such pursuits.  If we are too explicit in our efforts, too concrete in our definitions about what is and is not "Chinese culture" (or any other "culture" for that matter), then we are likely to compound our failure to discover authenticity.  We just have to let culture happen, just let art happen, without over-intellectualizing it.  Indeed, I wonder if that is closer to how Qin herself works.  Does she plan out specific interactions of Chinese and global images, or does she just do her art in a manner that naturally expresses such combinations?  I imagine it is the latter.

So I will leave off here with passage 24 of the Daodejing, which we can read as a commentary on how to manage the anxieties of very rapid cultural transformation:

Stretch onto tip toes and you never stand firm.  Hurry long strides and you never travel far.

Keep up self-reflection and you'll never be enlightened.

Keep up self-definition and you'll never be apparent.

Keep up self-promotion and you'll never be proverbial.

Keep up self-esteem and you'll never be perennial.

Travelers of the Way call such striving "too much food and useless baggage."  Things may not all despise such striving, but a master of the Way stays clear of it.

Comments

[Peony]

Hi Sam,

Welcome home!! I heard from DB a little about what was said about the book and it sounded like you got quite a lot of great feedback! And, I loved the photographs you posted too.

Of course, you can guess I would disagree very strongly with what you wrote above. Everything is always changing. It is inevitable and so I don't see the empahasis on cultural authenticity as being opposed to change. That is to say that I see nothing futile about such an endeavor-- whther that's the French trying to limit the number of megastores or supermarkets or the Italians using scaffolding which reflects Italian design or any other such past-orienting project. People in a culture would intuitively feel what is authentic or not (and then when this king of referencing becomes over-intellectualizing is really a case-by-case situation so maybe Qin-- whose work I don't know-- is doing so is a different matter)Thinking about the past and trying to reflect on ways that past can be brought into the future is hardly being averse to change. Quite the opposite. I would say the students are engaged in a very productive and creative kind of thinking and it's something that will go on anywhere really, don't you think? Was watching a show about a Japanese actor who traveled to one of the hilltowns in Italy to participate in their festivals and the young people were saying things strikingly close to your students above concerning keeping the festivals alive in the face of... well, in the face of many things. Ciao.

[Jason Law]

Professor Crane,

I was wondering what you thought about 798 as an institution itself--I was only there for a very short while, so I didn't see too much, but the narrow line between embracing artistic expression--recognizing it's cultural and economic value--and constraining artistic freedom--wariness of social and political disturbance--really interests me.

[chriswaugh_bj]

Well, first you got me remembering Taiyuan and Changsha as I experienced them 7,8,9 years ago and the different ways those two cities had preserved their histories and roots and local perceptions of my perceptions of that, but that comment threatened to turn a little too rambly, so I took it elsewhere. It may appear on my blog if I can get it at least halfway coherent, but no guarantees.

Then you got me trying to remember some Daoist parable, or metaphor at least, of water. Or maybe I was just trying to find some fancy intellectual way to say "go with the flow."

Excellent post, in other words.

[Peony]

Hi Chris,

I will check your place later as I would be interested to hear what you say. Japan and Taiwan I think in particular became industrialized over a very short amount of time-- where it took the US 100 years (or whatever) and Europe many hundreds of years, Japan basically did a lot of the work practically overnight. And the rebuilding after the war too was in many ways done in haphazard ways. You know, I've lived here almost 20 years and have traveled much of the country and the places that are particularly "livable" or somehow beautiful are in fact those places that consciously sought to retain their heritage. In so many places "going with the flow" means going with what is profitable for the largest corporation, right? But there are these towns in Japan-- like where I live, or like Takayama or Kurashiki-- that the people seem very committed to the past (I wouldn't call it "holding o to the past as much as to borrow Fingarette's idea "animating" the past).

In my town, the old buildings remain, it still puts on its festivals, students would ask foreigners similar question as Sam experienced... people talk about "being Japanese," and it's not necessarily a bad thing. I really feel this when I travel to my husband's hometown, which was bombed flat during the war and hastily put back up.　Instead of traditional buildings or festivals or ikebana teachers, there are starbucks and megamalls, and a cosco...

Guess where I'd rather live? In my town with its clea river full of carp and old Edo storehouses and a calendar full of events.

The thing is, no matter what, there will be change. And, in order not to throw the baby out ith the bathwater, a bit of intellectualizing/consideration might be required... maybe?

I will check your place later...gota run, not checking for typos again!

[isha]

These useless "arts" could only reflect the parasitical economic system represented by Wall Street. They don't produce, they create no value. They consume at the expense of those who produce and feed them, like termites in the giant building called the Empire. They bring corruption with them and spread it just like lepers.

Decadence, of course, is not foreign in China that is how ex-empires like Great Tang and Ming eventually fade away. One can just read the poetry of these ages to reflect upon. Beijing, being a provincial capital of this current, fading empire, of course, can't escape this trend of decadence (one can call it modern " art”, just like termite would call their anthills.) Tang left its poetry, Ming had its plays, and Britain left his Shakespeare. What is going to be the legacy of this empire? Anthills of trashes?

Whoever is least corrupted, will survive this ... silliness...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wTZr0PgAdYQ

[isha]

http://imgsrc.baidu.com/baike/pic/item/dbf554ed9796c9c7b21cb15e.jpg