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By Elizabeth M. Lynch, July 5, 2012

From The Printed Image in China: Qing Dynasty "Folkloric" Print

For many, wood block prints are synonymous with all things Japanese.  But as “The Printed Image in China” – a traveling show from the British Museum currently on view at New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art – demonstrates, such a perception is totally wrong since it was China that first developed the technology, allowed it to flourish and made it an integral part of its culture and history.  The Printed Image in China is a must see, but must be seen by the end of July before it closes on the 29th.

This small, six gallery show begins with the earliest known prints in the world.  Although the Gutenberg Bible, printed in 1454, is commonly referred to as the first printed book, in reality, China was printing books, through wood block printing technology, as early as the 700s (likely even earlier).  The Diamond Sutra, purchased by Hungarian-British explorer Marc Aurel Stein in 1907 from a monk in the Dunhuang region of China, is the earliest, dated printed book in the world, with a date of 868 A.D.

Although the Diamond Sutra is not part of the show, some of the thousands of other ancient manuscripts that were a part of Stein’s Dunhuang purchase and estimated to have been printed around the same time if not earlier, start this phenomenal show.  For prints from the early Tang Dynasty (618 A.D. – 907 A.D.), the detail is truly astounding.  In particular, “Bodhisattva Mahapratisara with the Text of ‘Da Sui qiu tuoluoni,‘” gives one pause, reciting an entire sutra within the print along with detailed pictures of Guanyin, making one wonder about the difficulty of carving it and the patience required.

The show then jumps to prints to the Ming Dynasty (1368-1644), where the technology of wood block truly began to thrive and the industry flourished.  During the Ming, the use of multiple colors on a print – by carving different blocks for each color – developed, producing glorious prints that accurately copied the famous paintings of the day.  Later on in the show an entire gallery – and a highlight – is dedicated to demonstrating the genius of this technique with actual replicas of the differently colored blocks that would be used to create a single picture.  It’s easy to linger in that room, studying the intricacies of the method.

Wood block printing continued and peaked as an art form during the Qing Dynasty (1644-1911).  By the middle Qing, wood block printing was

Etching of Qianlong Battle (c. 1770) in the European Style

becoming its own art form.  Whereas the goal of the Ming artists was to make the wood block prints appear as much as a painting as possible, the Qing artists began to experiment with more vibrant colors (think hot pink) and thinner paper which resulted in an embossed, tactile texture to the print, making it obvious this was not a painting.  In addition, under the Emperor Qianlong (1711-1799), China experimented with the use of copper plates, prevalent in Europe at that time, Viewing some the etchings of famous European battles that the Jesuits priests brought with them to court, Emperor Qianlong (1711 – 1799) commissioned Matteo Ripa to create copper-plated etchings of Qianlong’s own battles.

A high point of the show is the “folkloric” prints found in the third gallery.  Unlike the pieces found in prior galleries, these prints – exploding with color – would have been everyday art, hung for New Years in an average person’s home.  Depicting the doorway gods and the Kitchen God, these prints – dating to the mid to late 1800s – were likely purchased directly by British that were in China at the time and viewed them as art to be maintained.  For the Chinese, these pictures were utilitarian in that they warded of the spirits for that year and, in keeping with tradition, would have been burned in preparation for the next New Year.

Li Hua's Raging Tide - Example of Modern Woodcut Movement

The final century, the 20th century, saw a renaissance of the wood block not just once but twice.  With the fall of the Qing, the uncertain rule of the Nationalists and the impending invasion of the country by the Japanese, the average Chinese was suffering.  Author Lu Xun (1881 – 1936), along with Li Shutong, were the major proponents of the “Modern Woodcut Movement” which used the sharpness of the woodcuts to reflect the harshness of daily existence in China.  By the 1920s, woodcutting was on the rise throughout the world and would become a common medium for many artists attempting to depict and democratize the misery of the average individual.    China was right along with Western nations in using the art form to communicate democratizing thoughts.

Wood block printing had a second 20th century renaissance under Chairman Mao Zedong (1949 – 1976).  With the founding of the People’s Republic of China, the government became the only patron of the arts and art was there to only to serve the government.  With the Communists, mass production became essential and where as in the past, wood carving was only one technique an artist might used, under the Mao, with its ability to create rapid reproductions for wide dissemination, wood carving would become a sole medium for many of the state-employed artists.  As a result, a talented pool of woodcutters emerged, taking the skill of the craft to the next level; the artists were able to use the wood block prints to create a feel to the different materials and emotions depicted in the print.

With the death of Mao in 1976 and the re-emergence of the market economy, these artists have continued with their crafted, creating new wood blocks prints that express their own emotions instead of the Party line.

The Printed Imagine in China is a must see show before it closes on July 29 but not just for the astounding prints that fill every gallery in this show.  What also emerges from this show and the careful way it has been laid out and described, is how this art form is an integral part of China’s political and cultural legacy and will be a part of its artistic future.  From the first gallery, wood block prints were printed for political reasons –

Post 1980 Woodcut: Wu Jide - Chatting over Tea

with the Tang, the politics was religion.  Spreading Buddhism was essential to the Tang Dynasty and the wood block prints, with its quicker way to reproduce the Buddha’s teaching, was important to that goal.

Under the Ming, spreading the literati culture became its own mission.  Across the Empire, a cultural language arose amongst the elites – an educated man needed to have certain books on his shelves and certain paintings on his walls.  Wood block printing created that mass culture among the literati.  With the Qing dynasty, a foreign dynasty ruled by the Manchu people as opposed to the Han Chinese, wood block printing was used to solidify its rule, especially with the  battle depictions of Emperor Qianlong.  For much of the 20th Century, first under the Modern Woodcut Movement of Lu Xun and then the Communists of Mao Zedong, the political message was clear; under Mao, it was required.

Unlike the centuries before, the 21st century finds the art form – perhaps for the first time – unhinged from any political purpose.  As the final gallery, with its post-1980s wood block prints, confirmed, the art form has exciting, new places to go that will do justice to its long history.

Tang Dynasty Wood Block Print - ca. late 700s A.D. (from the Dunhuang Purchase)

The Printed Image in China: 8th through 21st Century
The Metropolitan Museum of Art
(on loan from the British Museum)
1000 Fifth Ave (at 82nd Street)
New York, NY
Through July 29, 2012

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By Elizabeth M. Lynch, January 22, 2012

Happy Lunar New Year!

The metal rabbit did not disappoint in its tumultuous nature.  With the rabbit’s fixed element – wood – doing constant battle with 2011’s year-element, metal, the mid-east uprisings, the fall of governments, the Fukushima disaster, and the Occupy Wall Street movement should not have come as a surprise.

But come Monday, we say goodbye to the metal rabbit for another 60 years and welcome the water dragon.  For the first time in many years, the animal’s fixed element – here wood – is not in conflict with the year-element, water.  In fact, water nourishes wood, doubling the impact of any events set to occur in 2012 – both good and bad.

While the dragon is an auspicious sign, signifying power and fortune, it is also a volatile one.  As a result, 2012 will be a transformative year, with major and powerful shifts in the world.  At this stage it is unclear if these shifts will be good or bad, but with the water dragon, they will happen (although in the last year of the water dragon, 1952, nothing big really happened unless you consider the coronation of Queen Elizabeth a big deal).

How will you do this year?  Check out your personal horoscope here (note you may have to do a Bazi test to determine the strength of your birth year element.  You can do that here).

The only think that we perhaps know for certain is that birthrates will rise in Chinese countries.  Because of the auspicious nature of the dragon and the fact that, given its celestial nature, it has long represented the emperor, many couples seek to have a baby born in the dragon year.  In China, when you only get one bite at the apple in having a baby, why not try to make it a dragon baby!

At any rate, have a happy, healthy and prosperous new year no matter your sign!

恭喜发财！

(Gong Xi Fa Cai – pronounced gong see fa tsai)

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By Elizabeth M. Lynch, January 16, 2012

Mao's Kitchen - Venice Beach, CA

Any visit to LA is not complete without a visit to Venice Beach’s Mao’s Kitchen.  I first went to Mao’s back in 2005, long before this blog and long before “Just for Fun,” but I have always remember it as a fun, good Chinese restaurant with surprisingly authentic food.  On a visit back to L.A. a few weeks ago, a return to Mao’s Kitchen was high on the list of things to do.

Of course I dragged along my friend who first introduced me to Mao’s Kitchen, but who now doubted if Mao’s was truly authentic or any good.  She hadn’t been back since our last visit, and it gave me pause too – what if the reality of Mao’s Kitchen didn’t hold up to my memories?  Could I live with the disappointment?  In the end, I threw caution to the wind and decided to go.

After a long bike ride down the coast from Malibu, my dining companion and I arrived on Mao’s doorstep famished, the way one wants to be when going to Mao’s so as to fit more food into one’s stomach.  The outside was not what I remembered; it seemed more upscale, more put together.  Was this the Mao’s of my memories?

But upon entering, I was reminded why I first fell in love with Mao’s Kitchen: the restaurant is perfectly kitsch.  Its sparse design, brick walls, cement floors, and long cafeteria-like dining tables makes it Cultural Revolution chic, with perfectly-placed propaganda posters from the time period lining the walls.  The menu is filled with names of dishes harking back to the more proletarian times, names like “People’s Potstickers,” “Model Citizen Noodle Soup,” and “Gang of Four Fried Shrimp.”

$1 Egg Roll with spicy hot mustard and Mao's secret sauce

Between the two of us, we ordered three dishes and one appetizer, all of which were vegetarian (meat options abound but my dining companion was vegetarian, so we stuck with veggies).  I’m not a fan of egg rolls but at a dollar a piece, we decided to order one and split it.  The egg roll is pure vegetarian, filled with shredded carrots and cabbage.  Although lightly fried – with little grease on it – the egg roll itself is not memorable.  But the Mao’s proprietary dipping sauce – a subtle sweet and sour-like sauce – and the hot mustard make it an interesting experience.  The mustard makes for a precarious situation – a little too much and you feel its effects shoot up your nose but not enough and the egg roll lacks flavor.

The second dish to arrive was the culinary king of the restaurant – Mao’s Kitchen’s Dandan Noodles.  I hesitated when it first arrived – it did not look like all the other dandan noodles I have had.  Normally, dandan noodles are a small dish, with the noodles covered with a watery, oily, and spicy chili and sesame seed sauce.  Mao’s dandan noodles were decidedly different – first, the dish was colossal with enough noodles to feed at least five people.  Second, you could actually see the noodles – they were not completely immersed in that soupy, oily chili sauce that has become somewhat repetitive in Sichuan cooking.  In fact, there was no remnants of an oily sauce to speak of.

Upon first bite, I realized my fears were misplaced: these were the best dandan noodles I had ever had (and yes, I

Mao's Kitchen's Famous Dandan Noodles

understand the seriousness of that statement).  The freshness of the homemade noodles, boiled perfectly al dente, was complemented perfectly by the fullness of all the other flavors; dandan noodles are often over powered by that chili sesame seed sauce.  But here, without the drenching sauce, the freshness of the spinach and carrots came through while maintaining that Sichuan chili flavor.  The balance of all the flavors is perfectly sublime and the tofu was just lightly fried and crispy enough that it also had its own flavor to add.  As new dinners sat down around us, we couldn’t help but recommend the dandan noodles to everyone – unfortunately one of our neighbors had a gluten allergy but her friend, after our recommendation, order it with impunity.  Yes, these dandan noodles are worth losing friends over.

Our third dish was Sichuan Eggplant with Soft Tofu.  As my dining companion noted, the

Sichuan Eggplant

dandan noodles made it hard to move on to another dish, but alas we had to.  The Sichuan Eggplant is just another name for Eggplant with Fish-Fragrant Sauce (yuxiang qiezi 鱼香茄子), although the flavoring has nothing to do with fish but instead is a mix of sweet, salty, and spicy flavorings.  Mao doesn’t do Sichuan Eggplant different from the rest, but it does do it better.  With extremely fresh and firm eggplant not caked in yuxiang sauce and a yuxiang sauce not covered with oil spots, the flavorings of this dished helped to quiet the taste buds after the dandan noodles.

Our fourth and final dish was Mao’s Hometown with fish (sole).  Mao’s Hometown stir fries some smoked tofu and wood ear mushroom with the fish in Mao’s sweet and sour sauce.  It’s sweeter than the other dishes and doesn’t explode with flavor like the other two.  I liked it

Mao's Hometown

but my dining companion was sorely disappointed.  For her, the fish was the dish’s only saving grace – without the fish, the dish would be overly sweet.  The smoked tofu and the mushrooms are overpowered by the sauce; but the fish more than holds its own.  If you like sweet you will still like this dish – certainly not the best on the menu, but still alright.

Mao’s Kitchen is an amazing experience – the dandan noodles alone make it a landmark.  But the other dishes are also excellent.  In fact, at the end of the meal, my friend and I were able to recall what we ordered the last time – the salt and pepper fish.  If only we had ordered that again this time instead of the Mao’s Hometown, Mao’s Kitchen likely would have gotten five stars.  But 4.5 stars make it well worth the trip.  What sets Mao’s Kitchen apart from other Chinese restaurants is the freshness of its vegetables, the lightness of its frying, its ability to capture each enormous flavor, and the awesomeness of its décor.  Finally at $38 for three massive dishes (which provided leftovers for two days), it’s a great deal.

A Utopian Ideal? Inside Mao's Kitchen

Rating:

Mao’s Kitchen
1512 Pacific Ave.
Venice, CA 90291
(310) 581-8305
http://www.maoskitchen.com/

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By Elizabeth M. Lynch, October 2, 2011

London's Chilli Cool

Is it possible to go to a foreign country, live there for a number of years and remain completely unchanged?  In the case of British cuisine, the answer is a resounding yes.  Although England ruled countries with the world’s most flavorful food, the Brits never thought to incorporate any of the newly found spices into their own cuisine.  But while British food has remained unchanged, major cities in the U.K. are filled with foreign restaurants, which have a good number of British customers.  By choosing not to create a fusion cuisine, the Brits have guaranteed that cities like London have some of the most authentic ethnic restaurants;  arguably the best Indian food outside of India can be found in London (major props to Masala Zone – yes it’s a chain, but it was phenomenal).

But what about Chinese food in London?  For over 100 years, England ruled the island of Hong Kong and made significant inroads into the Mainland prior to the Communist takeover, with major concession areas in Shanghai and Canton.  But unfortunately, the number of good Chinese restaurants in London is scant.  In speaking with a London friend  who spent many years in China, she noted that there were only around three good Chinese restaurants in London, a disappointment indeed.

And that is how I found myself at Chilli Cool (the misspelling of “chili” is intentional), one of the recommended three, in the Kings Cross area of London.  From the moment you open the door to the restaurant, Chilli Cool is unmistakably Sichuan, with the smells of the region engulfing you- a very promising sign.  Additionally, Chilli Cool compromises two restaurants, one that serves Sichuan hotpot and one that serves appetizers dishes.  My friend and I opted for the main restaurant to try the dishes.

Savory Hot Spicy Chicken

The first dish we ordered, Sichuan Savory Hot Spicy Chicken (No. 6), a traditional Sichuan appetizer where the Chinese literally translates to “mouth-watering chicken”, was not just dead-on authentic but delish.  The chicken, served in a bowl drenched by a Sichuan hot sauce and sesame seeds, was tender and although the dish is filled with a canopy of spices, the flavor of the chicken (which is served cold) is not lost.  Instead, the spices only enhance the flavor. The chili is the main flavor of the dish, but the subtle smokiness of the black pepper serves as a wonderful compliment.  Any trip to Chilli Cool is incomplete without ordering the Sichuan Savory Hot Spicy Chicken – Chilli Cool offers the best version of the dish that I have had outside of China.

To shake things up, we then ordered the Hot & Spicy Spare Ribs (No. 29) and the Dry Fried Chicken with Cumin & Chili (No. 37).  Unfortunately that is where our culinary adventure began to go off course.  Aside from the meat selection – one with chicken, one with pork – the dishes were exactly the same.  Neither the English description nor the Chinese

Two of the Same - Dry Fried Chicken (near) with Hot & Spicy Spare Ribs

name of the dish signaled that two dishes would be virtually identical and our waiter did not let us know that perhaps choosing two of the same dishes was not a good idea.

Fortunately, the chicken version came out first and was amazingly good and flavorful;  if one had to choose between the two dishes (which one should otherwise it is repetitive), the chicken version is by far superior.  The chicken was lightly fried and breaded, giving the dish a lightness that is often not found in fried Chinese food.  For those with a more delicate palate, the dish was not overwhelmingly spicy and was bursting with flavor.  The scallions, onions and peppers were fresh and perfectly complemented the mild chili flavor.  However, the dish likely could have used a touch more cumin as that flavor went largely unnoticed.

As for the pork version, the spare ribs were a bit dry.  Additionally, the flavoring of the dish tastes better with chicken.  Arguably other pork dishes on the menu would be a better choice.

As our fourth and final dish, we ordered one of my favorites, Shredded Potato with Spicy Dried Chili (No. 18).  When I lived in China, this dish was a staple for me and when made right, is a good carbohydrate alternative to

Shredded Potato with Spicy Dried Chili

rice.  Unfortunately, Chili Cool could not have made it more wrong.  The dish, which is usually very lightly fried, came out drenched in grease.  If made right, the potato slices should be firm; in the Chilli Cool version they were soft and soggy.  For some reason, Chili Cool added cloves to the dish which was weird and messed too much with the flavor.  Our Shredded Potato dish remained untouched during our meal.

Although one of the dishes was largely inedible and we were not properly warned that two of our dishes were twins of each other, I would still recommend a visit to Chili Cool when in London.  Two of the dishes were pretty amazing and could easily compete with the Sichuan chefs of Chengdu or Chongqing.  However, it might be best to stick with the traditional Sichuan “appetizers” (like dan dan noodles and Sichuan dumplings).

However, do note that Chilli Cool is no where near “Chinatown cheap.”  With four dishes and one beer, Chili Cool set us back 40 pounds (approximately $63), a lot of money considering two of the dishes were not that great.  Chilli Cool holds promise to be an amazing experience but a more careful selection from the menu is necessary.

Rating:

Chilli Cool
15 Leigh Street
London, UK WC1H 9EW
020 7383 3135
Nearest Tube Station: Kings Cross
http://www.chillicool.com/home-eng.html

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By Elizabeth M. Lynch, July 24, 2011

Birthday Wishes from Chuck Norris!

Last week marked the second anniversary of China Law & Policy’s founding – happy birthday China Law & Policy!

So how has year two been going?  One of the greatest challenges of this past year has been balancing working a full-time, non-China job with blogging.  It has not been easy and our goal of publishing at least one article a week sometimes was not met; in year two, we published 36 original blog posts.  But we continue to keep the scholarship level high, allowing for our readers to rely on the accuracy of the information in our posts.

In terms of readership, year two saw a marked growth.  China Law & Policy can now boast over 350 subscribers, over 200 Twitter followers and over 3,000 hits per month.

In year two we also experimented with Twitter, creating an automatic weekly blog post of our tweets.  We used this to recommend other articles our readership might find interesting.  In general, this Weekly Digest has not proved popular (although if your opinion differs, please let me know).  Instead, we have now have our tweets appearing in real-time on the left sidebar under “Recommended Articles.”

Our three most popular articles are more recent pieces.  By far, the overwhelming favorite article was “In Defense of Dylan in China: Come Writers and Critics Who Prophesize with Your Pen,” a critique of Maureen Dowd’s Bob Dylan in China op-ed piece.  Of more substance perhaps was our second most popular piece, “Don Clarke & Li Tiantian: Two Takes on the Jasmine Revolution in China,” comparing two pieces on the Jasmine Revolution in China.  Rounding out the top three was “Reality or Myth: China’s Rule of Law & Its Recent Assault on Lawyers,” an article alerting the world of China’s random abduction, abductions that still continue, of rights-defending lawyers.

One of my personal favorite posts was the book review of Nien Cheng’s Cultural Revolution memoir “Life & Death in Shanghai.”  Just discovering Cheng’s book was a pleasure, reading her story of survival was inspiring, but soon after the post, one of Cheng’s good friends in the U.S. emailed me to tell me that he was moved by my review.  He believed that if Cheng was still alive, she would have been happy to know that her book was still moving people.

When I created China Law & Policy, the goal was to provide a different voice to the China debate and to explain in easy to understand terms, why non-China people should care about some of the underlying issues about China’s rule of law development.  For the past few months, with the arrest, detention and abduction of rights-defending lawyers, human rights and rule of law has largely been a focus of this blog.  I will likely continue to focus on these issues as on some level, rule of law cannot be said to exist if rights-defending lawyers, those lawyers who keep the government in check, are continuously harassed.  However, in year three we will seek to cover other areas of legal development in China.

Also, to provide our readership with a more diversity of voices, in year three China Law & Policy will resume its podcast series and interview others on their thoughts of China’s legal development.

Most of all on our second anniversary, China Law & Policy would like to thank all those friends and colleagues who have continued to support our efforts.  To those who provide article ideas, edits, and challenges to some of our arguments, your advice, criticism and encouragement are always appreciated and we hope that you continue to engage us.

As always, China Law & Policy encourages readers to participate in the creation of this blog, either through writing blog posts or giving us ideas on what areas or issues to cover.  Have an idea?  An article?  Feel free to email: elynch@chinalawandpolicy.com

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By Elizabeth M. Lynch, May 23, 2011

Massacre is the word most often used to describe the Japanese invasion and occupation of the city of Nanjing in December 1937.  But Chinese director Lu Chuan’s new movie City of Life and Death (in Chinese “Nanjing!  Nanjing!) reminds us that language is too crude a tool and massacre does too little to describe the horror of the rape of Nanjing. But where words fail, Lu’s movie perhaps comes the closest to capturing what happened during that six week period were 200,000 to 300,000 Chinese people were killed and tens of thousands of Chinese women raped.

Shot in all black and white, City begins slowly, with the Japanese troops in the process of conquering Nanjing, while high-level Chinese officials flee the city, leaving the Chinese civilian population largely unprotected.  There are still some rag-tag Guo Mindang (KMT) soldiers, futilely battling the well-armed and organized Japanese army and Lu does an amazing job of capturing the intensity, confusion and pure adrenaline rush of battle.  Also remaining in Nanjing is  John Rabe, a German businessman and Nazi, who established an International Safety Zone for Nanjing’s civilians, assuming that the Japanese soldiers would abide by the international rules of war.

But they didn’t.  And slowly City descends into an orgy of violence and horror against the Chinese people.  But the movie itself is not overly graphic – at least not compared to the actual photographs and newsreels from the real event.  The gang rape of women, the murder of children, the burying, all largely happen off screen.  But the sounds that emerge from the torture and the anguish on family members’ faces is what makes the movie perhaps even more horrific than the actual photographs.  Through Lu’s movie, the emotional suffering of Nanjing’s “survivors” becomes very real.

And although City was made for the Chinese market, it isn’t particularly one-sided.  Instead, by focusing one half of his story on a sensitive and morally upright (and also Christian which was an interesting addition) Japanese soldier, Lu tries to show that there were some Japanese that also suffered at “doing their job” and in their way tried to rise above.  But ultimately, the facts speak for themselves and that is what makes City even more powerful, heart wrenching and uncomfortable – the atrocities which Lu portrays are not exaggerations; they are the horror that one group of people imposed on another for six weeks in December 1937.

City is only playing for two more days at Film Forum (closes May 24) and for those who want to learn more about the rape of Nanjing and don’t want to spend the time reading Iris Chang’s non-fiction book, The Rape of Nanjing (which the movie is largely based on), should see City.  While Lu’s City is good, it doesn’t offer that much new; so if you read Chang’s book, City will largely be the film version of it.  But Chaun’s artistry is also pretty amazing and he is perhaps the best director to emerge from China in the past decade.

Rating:

If you missed the movie in the theaters, it is now available on DVD: City of Life and Death: 2-Disc Special Edition

 

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By Elizabeth M. Lynch, March 9, 2011

Till March 15 Only!

Victor Mair scored a major victory with “Secrets Of the Silk Road,” an exhibit at the Penn Museum featuring some of the world’s best preserved mummies.  It was a hard fought battle as the Chinese government almost, once again, snatched the mummies from Mair’s grip.  For China, these mummies, found in present day Xinjiang province and as old as 4,000 years, challenge the delicate narrative that China has created for itself. 

The Chinese believe that their culture developed, during its formative years, completely independent of all other cultures and therefore the Chinese culture emerged without any interaction from the West.  But these mummies call such a narrative into question.  With red hair and Caucasian features, the mummies were found in present-day China and with the oldest dating back to 1,800 B.C. these mummies would have been in Chinese territory during the formation of the Chinese culture.  For the Chinese government, these mummies remain extremely controversial. 

And their existence in Xinjiang creates an alternative narrative for the Uighur’s, a distinct ethnic group from the Han Chinese.  The Uighurs have used these mummies to lay claim to their “Western” heritage.  While DNA studies have disproved this theory, the fact that the Uighurs ardently maintain this belief is a worry to the Chinese government who see the Uighers as a separatist group. 

Not surprisingly, China was not proactive in letting anyone know about these mummies.  In fact, if Mair hadn’t stumbled upon these mummies in the backroom of a museum in remote Xinjiang in 1987, its questionable if the rest of the world would ever know about these red-headed Chinese mummies. 

But after years of trying to hide these mummies, the Chinese government finally allowed two of them – the Beauty of Xiaohe and an infant baby – to travel to the United States.  However, when they moved to the Penn Museum a few weeks ago as the crowning jewel in Mair’s “Secrets of the Silk Road,” the Chinese government was threatening to pull the mummies from the exhibit.  Fortunately for us, Mair was able to convince the Chinese government to allow the mummies to be shown for a limited time.  For 15 days only – until March 15 –  the mummies are on display.

Last Saturday I was able to see the mummies and experience the “Secrets of the Silk Road.”  At $22.50 a pop, I was looking to get my money’s worth and with the mummies on display, I certainly did.  The Beauty of Xiaohe has a full head of red hair, high cheek bones of a caucasion and eye lashes that make me jealous.  If you are going to visit this show – and you should – definitely get there before the mummies leave on March 15.

The rest of the show does a poor job of explaining why these mummies are so amazing and yet so controversial for the Chinese.  One of my museum companions noted that with the limited explanations of the history of the region, to truly get the most of the exhibit, a visitor must already have a significant amount of knowledge of the region.  It looks like the Penn Museum missed an opportunity to educate the populace about this fascinating area of the world; a good portion of the show’s visitors were 10 year olds there to see the mummies.  In a similar vein, the lack of a map in the rooms proved distressing even for someone familiar with the region.  The lack of a map at all points during the exhibit was a complaint I heard from a good number of visitors.   

Aside from the mummies which were around 4,000 years old, most of the artifacts were of a more recent vintage, specifically from 600 to 800 AD – China’s Tang Dynasty – during the height of trade between China and the West.  By 600 AD, the Chinese culture is fully formed so the interaction with the West during the Tang Dynasty is not a challenge to China’s current narrative. So these artifacts are hardly controversial. 

With the mummies, this show is a must see.  Without the mummies, the fact that much of the artifacts are from 700 AD provides a less compelling reason to go to the show (presumably the price will go down without the mummies).  It is though a great show for children.  There are games that children can play throughout the show, signage in many places are at the height level of an 11 year old, and even a trivia game at the end of the exhibit.  One of the ending signs, in explaining how a mummy is created, noted that “a raisin is a mummy you can eat.” 

If you do go to the museum and have time to kill, the Buddhist sculpture section on the 3rd floor is a must see.  Beautiful pieces from the artistically high point of Buddhist art in China – the Tang Dynasty. 

Finally, be sure to finish up your tour with a yummy cheesesteak at Abner’s just down the block.

Mummies – Rating:
Show without the mummies – Rating:

Penn Museum
3260 South Street
Philadelphia, PA
Mummies on view until March 15

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By Elizabeth M. Lynch, February 13, 2011

On Saturday, February 12, 2011, the Korean and Chinese communities of northeast Queens in New York City celebrated the Lunar New Year by hosting the 15th Annual Lunar New Year Parade on Main Street in Flushing.

Below are photos of the parade from Robert Burnett, Jr. – world-renowned “Chelebrity” (a China celebrity) photographer (Burnett is known for his work in photographing Peter Hessler here).  Burnett’s amazing and extensive portfolio can be found on his website, www.rburnettjr.com

Lunar New Year is celebrated by both the Chinese and Korean communities, and both had a strong presence at the Flushing parade.  The first half of the parade included the Korean and Korean-American communities, including a small but strong contingent of Korean soldiers who served in the Vietnam War.  Unknown to most Americans, in the late 60s and early 70s, the U.S. government requested that Korea send troops to Vietnam to assist the U.S. war effort there.  Although largely against Korean public opinion, the Korean president eventually sent 320,00 soldiers.  Over 4,000 Korean soldiers were killed in action (for more info, click here).

The Chinese segment of the parade was largely dominated by the Taiwanese Chinese community, which was surprising since for the past 10 years, there has been a large influx of mainland Chinese to Flushing.  There only appeared to be one mainland Chinese group in the parade – the “China Anti-Cult World Alliance” – which appears to be more a statement against the Falun Gong than any “anti-cult” movement.  Only a few floats later was there a Falun Gong group marching in the parade.

But in all, as Burnett’s photos below reflect, the 2011 Lunar New Year parade was a fun celebration of one of the most important holidays in the Chinese and Korean cultures.  Enjoy!

Click the “Next” button or click on the picture itself to go to the next photo in the slide show.
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By Elizabeth M. Lynch, February 2, 2011

Tomorrow – February 3 – starts the beginning of a new year on the lunar calendar for most East Asian countries.  It is a time to celebrate with family and friends and wish in health, prosperity and good fortune for the new year.  To all of our Asian friends – happy new year!

For the Chinese, the new year also represent a new sign in the 12-animal zodiac.  2011 marks the end of the tumultuous year of the Tiger and ushers in Year of the Rabbit.  But while the rabbit might seem soft, cuddly and cute, the 2011 year of the rabbit will be anything but.

Navigating the intricacies of China’s astrology and fortune-telling makes knowledge of its 2,000-year-long history and non-transparent government look like a walk in the park.  But it is essential to the Chinese culture, even on the mainland where the Chinese Communist government sought to stamp out such things during the 1950s and 60s.  With “Reform and Opening” in 1980, Chinese traditional astrology came back with a vengeance; birth rates noticeably increase for auspicious years:  2000, year of the dragon, saw a spike in births and inspired this interesting academic article on the role the zodiac plays in Chinese fertility.  Heck, even the Beijing Olympics were planned in light of folklore traditions – August 8, 2008, highlighting the ever auspicious number “8.”  So much for the Chinese government’s attempt to eliminate the “Four Olds.”

While I’m no Mr. Wong (a friend’s dad who has tried many, many times to explain to me how the Chinese zodiac work and also makes the world’s best sesame noodles), I probably know a little bit more than the average General-Tsao-eating American.  So here goes my meager, amateur take on why this year of the Rabbit is so going to suck.

Every animal in the zodiac is associated with one of the Five Elements of Chinese cosmology – either fire, earth, metal, water or wood.  This is a permanent association and for the rabbit, its fixed element is wood.  But every year is also associated with an element as well; the year-element association is independent of the animal-element association (I know, this is very confusing).  So while most Westerns think that the Chinese zodiac is on a 12-year cycle, this in fact is not true – it’s on a 60-year cycle (5 elements times 12 animals).

2011 is a metal year.  This is where we come into trouble.  Metal and wood, the fixed element of the rabbit, just don’t

Beware of the Metal Rabbit!

get along.  Sort of like a game of rock, paper, scissors, each element has control over another; here metal controls wood with wood constantly rebelling against metal.  So you take a wood-based rabbit and stick it in a metal year and you have yourself a bit of a problem.  While the rabbit year would otherwise pass peacefully, with the metal element thrown in, don’t expect your troubles from 2010’s year of the tiger to end quite so quickly.  It will be calmer, but will still be filled with uncertainties and problems.

In the end, the future of the year will depend on your OWN birth sign.  So click here for a more detailed analysis of what 2011 holds in store for you.

In the meantime, to all of our friends who celebrate the new year – Gong Xi Fa Cai (pronounced gong see fa tsai), may the year of the Metal Rabbit bring wealth, health and luck, and may this year pass quickly for the calmer water dragon year of 2012!

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By Elizabeth M. Lynch, August 22, 2010

Mao’s Last Dancer tells the true story of ballet dancer Li Cunxin’s defection to the United States in 1981.  The film is fairly average, not particularly well-acted (aside from Bruce Greenwood who plays the complex character of Houston Ballet choreographer Ben Stevenson and does a superb job) and at times way too dramatic.  Joan Chen makes an appearance as a poor Chinese peasant, raising seven sons in the stark mountainous countryside of Shangdong province, and of course, looks as beautiful as ever.

But the movie is not a complete wash out in that it takes a snapshot of a very important time in U.S.-China relations and tells the story of a tense 21-hour period in this new-found relationship.

The film opens in Li’s impoverished home village outside of Qingdao, Shangdong Province.  It is 1972, the height of China’s Cultural Revolution, socialist rhetoric is running high and Li is 11 years old.  When Party officials visit his mud-walled school, Li is selected for a competition in which the winning students will be sent to Beijing to study.  It’s not until the next day, when Li is asked to do various tumbles, twists, and handstands that his family finally realizes he has being selected to attend the Beijing Dance Academy.  The director, Bruce Beresford (Driving Miss Daisy), does a great job of distinguishing the feelings of the two generations – Li’s parents want him to go to Beijing because they know that this will offer their son a better life; Li goes because he feels a sincere sense of obligation to his motherland.  And that is what is great about this movie – in a very nuanced way it shows the sincerity of the young people’s belief in the teachings of the Cultural Revolution.  Li was born on the eve of the Cultural Revolution and his whole life he has been indoctrinated with its teachings and has come to believe them.  No other movie I have seen about the Cultural Revolution has been able to effectively capture this subtle fact.

Fast-forward nine years (note: plot spoiler!) and Li is a star.  At least in China.  He performs twice for Chairman Mao’s wife, Jiang Qing, and when Ben Stevenson arrives as part of the various “good will” cultural tours immediately after China and the U.S. normalized relations, Li is the only dancer he considers talented.  As a result, Stevenson invites Li to study in Houston as an exchange student for six weeks in the summer of 1981.

Kyle MacLachlan in Mao's Last Dancer

Ensues are various skits about Li adjusting to American life – the usual “look how different America is from China”, “look at the extravagant Americans” scenes.  But eventually Li becomes a star, performing the lead role in one of the Houston Ballet Company’s premier summer events.  Li also begins dating one of the American ballerinas.  Needless to say, Li doesn’t want to go back when his time has come but because the Chinese government fears that Li is getting too soft, does not allow him to extend his visa.

Li speaks to a lawyer (played very well by former Twin Peaks star Kyle MacLachlan) about his options, and (note: plot spoiler!) rushes into a hasty marriage to his American girlfriend.  When he goes to tell the Chinese consulate, he is kidnapped and held in the consulate for 21 hours. With the help of his attorney and the Department of State, Li is eventually freed but informed that he has been stripped of his Chinese citizenship and will not be permitted to ever return to China.

And this is where the movie gets weak.  We are never told what propels Li to choose America over his family.  How was he able to so easily break with the Communist rhetoric that he had learned his whole life (when he first shows up to America, he is constantly wearing his Mao pin)?  Aside from having sex with his girlfriend, we never see Li getting close with anyone in America.  How did he leave his whole family?  Was it just his youth?  There is so much here that the director could have easily used to better explain Li’s choice.  Instead, it seems to be a mechanical decision and on some level plays on the Western bias of “well of course he would want to live in the West.”  It wasn’t until I got home, researched Li Cunxin and read excerpts from his autobiography that I learned that his rejection of the Communist teachings was actually an important part of his decision.

The real Li Cunxin with his wife and two daughters. All live in Australia.

But even in light of that, being reminded of the relationship between China and the U.S. soon after normalization in 1979, is an important thing, especially for younger China watchers.  China did not really enter my orbit until the early 1990s.  And by then, it was a very different China.  Seeing a China just entering its Reform & Opening period, and watching the U.S. and China (note: plot spoiler!) coordinate efforts to reunite Li with his parents at one of his performance (note, melodrama runs high in this scene) reminds us of a time when symbolic good-will gestures between the U.S. and China helped move a relationship forward.  How times have changed.

For the historical value, for some of the nuanced scenes of political indoctrination, Bruce Greenwood’s performance, and for the scenes filmed in China, it is worth watching.  But wait till it comes out on DVD.

Rating:

This movie is now available on DVD: Mao’s Last Dancer