Say Cheese

Antonioni's film Chung Kuo was shot in 1974, under special approval from the then Chinese government. It was subsequently banned for "negative portrait" of China, the ban was lifted after 30 years in 2004.

Those days in Antonionno's film are long gone. You can hardly identify the scenes in the film of today's Tian'anmen Square, or Shanghai, except maybe the ritual way people taking pictures - in wedding photography boutiques. Zhang YiMou would later make a name for himself in the west depicting the rural China - before he resurrected himself directing the Olympics Ceremonies, that is, those days are gone too. But the film remains particularly interesting, you can see the pace of life, the innocence on people's faces of that time.

I am interested in photography, as a way to capture reality, and present perceived reality. Susan Sontag's comments about the film in On Photography provided some interesting perspective beyond the film. Frankly, both "They are trying to bring us down" crowd and "You are either with us or against us" crowd will benefit reading it. As ESWN comments, this is hardly about this particular movie but extends to the rest of life. Of course, no one should take everything said in an art critique as literal truth, so no need to boil your blood over:

Nothing could be more instructive about the meaning of photography for us -- as, among other things, a method of hyping up the real -- than the attacks on Antonioni's film in the Chinese press in early 1974. They make a negative catalogue of all the devices of modern photography, still and film.

While for us photography is intimately connected with discontinuous ways of seeing (the point is precisely to see the whole by means of a part -- an arresting detail is a striking way of cropping), in China it is connected only with continuity. Not only are there proper subjects for the camera, those which are positive, inspirational (exemplary activities, smiling people, bright weather), and orderly, but there are proper ways of photographing, which derive from notions about the moral order of space that preclude the very idea of photographic seeing.

Thus Antonioni was reproached for photographing things that were old, or old-fashioned -- "he sought out and took dilapidated walls and blackboard newspapers discarded long ago"; paying "no attention to big and small tractors working in the fields, [he] chose only a donkey pulling a stone roller" -- and for showing un-decorous moments -- "he disgustingly filmed people blowing their noses and going to the latrine" -- and undisciplined movement -- "instead of taking shots of pupils in the classroom in our factory-run primary school, he filmed the children running out of the classroom after a class."

And he was accused of denigrating the right subjects by his way of photographing them: by using "dim and dreary colors" and hiding people in "dark shadows"; by treating the same subject with a variety of shots -- "there are sometimes long-shots, sometimes close-ups, sometimes from the front, and sometimes from behind" -- that is, for not showing things from the point of view of a single, ideally placed observer; by using high and low angles -- "The camera was intentionally turned on this magnificent modern bridge from very bad angles in order to make it appear crooked and tottering"; and by not taking enough full shots -- "He racked his brain to get such close-ups in an attempt to distort the people's image and uglify their spiritual outlook."

Besides the mass-produced photographic iconography of revered leaders, revolutionary kitsch, and cultural treasures, one often sees photographs of a private sort in China. Many people possess pictures of their loved ones, tacked to the wall or stuck under the glass on top of the dresser or office desk. A large number of these are the sort of snapshots taken here at family gatherings and on trips; but none is a candid photograph, not even the kind that the most unsophisticated camera user in this society finds normal -- a baby crawling on the floor, someone in mid-gesture. Sports photographs show the team as a group, or only the most stylized balletic movements of play: generally, what people do with the camera is assemble for it, then line up in a row or two. There is no interest in catching a subject in movement.

This is, one supposes, partly because of certain old conventions of decorum in conduct and imagery. And it is a characteristic visual taste of those at the first stage of camera culture, when the image is defined as something that can be stolen from its owner; thus Antonioni was reproached for "forcibly taking shots against people's wishes," like "a thief."

Possession of a camera does not license intrusion, as it does in this society whether people like it or not. (The good manners of a camera culture dictate that one is supposed to pretend not to notice when one is being photographed by a stranger in a public place as long as the photographer stays at a discreet distance -- that is, one is supposed neither to forbid the picture-taking nor to start posing.) Unlike here, where we pose where we can and yield when we must, in China taking pictures is always a ritual; it always involves posing and, necessarily, consent. Someone who "deliberately stalked people who were unaware of his intention to film them" was depriving people and things of their right to pose, in order to look their best.

Antonioni devoted nearly all of the sequence in Chung Kuo about Peking's Tien An Men Square, the country's foremost goal of political pilgrimage, to the pilgrims waiting to be photographed. The interest to Antonioni of showing Chinese performing that elementary rite, having a trip documented by the camera, is evident: the photograph and being photographed are favorite contemporary subjects for the camera. To his critics, the desire of visitors to Tien An Men Square for a photographic souvenir is a reflection of their deep revolutionary feelings. But with bad intentions, Antonioni, instead of showing this reality, took shots only of people's clothing, movement, and expressions: here, someone's ruffled hair; there, people peering, their eyes dazzled by the sun; one moment, their sleeves; another, their trousers. ...

The Chinese resist the photographic dismemberment of reality. Close-ups are not used. Even the postcards of antiquities and works of art sold in museums do not show part of something; the object is always photographed straight on, centered, evenly lit, and in its entirety.

We find the Chinese naïve for not perceiving the beauty of the cracked peeling door, the picturesqueness of disorder, the force of the odd angle and the significant detail, the poetry of the turned back. We have a modern notion of embellishment -- beauty is not inherent in anything; it is to be found, by another way of seeing -- as well as a wider notion of meaning, which photography's many uses illustrate and powerfully reinforce. The more numerous the variations of something, the richer its possibilities of meaning: thus, more is said with photographs in the West than in China today.

Apart from whatever is true about Chung Kuo as an item of ideological merchandise (and the Chinese are not wrong in finding the film condescending), Antonioni's images simply mean more than any images the Chinese release of themselves. The Chinese don't want photographs to mean very much or to be very interesting. They do not want to see the world from an unusual angle, to discover new subjects. Photographs are supposed to display what has already been described. Photography for us is a double-edged instrument for producing clichés (the French word that means both trite expression and photographic negative) and for serving up "fresh" views. For the Chinese authorities, there are only clichés -- which they consider not to be clichés but "correct" views.

In China today, only two realities are acknowledged. We see reality as hopelessly and interestingly plural. In China, what is defined as an issue for debate is one about which there are "two lines," a right one and a wrong one. Our society proposes a spectrum of discontinuous choices and perceptions. Theirs is a constructed around a single, ideal observer; and photographs contribute their bit to the Great Monologue. For us, there are dispersed, interchangeable "points of view"; photography is a polylogue.

The current Chinese ideology defines reality as a historical process structured by recurrent dualisms with clearly outlined, morally colored meanings; the past, for the most part, is simply judged as bad. For us, there are historical processes with awesomely complex and sometimes contradictory meanings; and arts which draw much of their value from our consciousness of time as history, like photography. (This is why the passing of time adds to the aesthetic value of photographs, and the scars of time make objects more rather than less enticing to photographers.)

With the idea of history, we certify our interest in knowing the greatest number of things. The only use the Chinese are allowed to make of their history is didactic: their interest in history is narrow, moralistic, deforming uncurious. Hence, photography in our sense has no place in their society.

The limits placed on photography in China only reflect the character of their society, a society unified by an ideology of stark, unremitting conflict. Our unlimited used of photographic images not only reflects but gives shapes to this society, one unified by the denial of conflict. Our very notion of the world -- the capitalist twentieth century's "one world" -- is like a photographic overview.

The world is "one" not because it is united but because a tour of its diverse contents does not reveal conflict but only an even more astounding diversity. This spurious unity of the world is affected by translating its contents into images. Images are always compatible, or can be made compatible, even when the realities they depict are not.

Photography does not simply reproduce the real, it recycles it -- a key procedure of a modern society. In the form of photographic images, things and events are put into new users, assigned new meanings, which go beyond the distinctions between the beautiful and the ugly, the true and the false, the useful and the useless, good taste and bad. Photography is one of the chief means for producing that quality ascribed to things and situations which erases these distinctions: "the interesting." What makes something interesting is that it can be seen to be like, or analogous to, something else. There is an art and there are fashions of seeing things in order to make them interesting; and to supply this art, these fashions, there is a steady recycling of the artifacts and tastes of the past. Clichés, recycled, become meta-clichés. The photographic recycling makes clichés out of unique objects, distinctive and vivid artifacts out of clichés. Images of real things are interlayered with images of images. The Chinese circumscribe the uses of photography so that thee are no layers or strata of images, and all images reinforce and reiterate each other. We make of photography a means by which, precisely, anything can be said, any purpose served. What in reality is discrete, images join. In the form of a photography, the explosion of an A-bomb can be used to advertise a safe.

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Sports, History and What the Ceremony Really Gives

If you ask a Chinese what the most touching moment in the opening ceremony was, most of them will give the answer:"during the A Hymn to My Motherland by a 9-year-old girl". It's a song most of Chinese who have connection to the new Republic can sing along. Part of the lyrics goes: Hymn to My Motherland, returning to the prosperity and a strong nation again.

To give a analogy to what history and tradition brings, let's turn to sports for a moment. Any fan of College Football can tell you what tradition means. It allows historical power houses like Alabama a chance to rebuild their program in times of decline. It allows Michigan be an attractive destination for coaches after some lackluster seasons. In an radio interview of a coach from a big-time program, a reporter ask the coach, "what allows your players always seem to be able to come back from a disappointing start of the season?" The coach replied, I paraphrase, "it's the tradition we have, it gives our players both motivation and confidence they need. 'You are suppose to be good, otherwise you are not deserved to be in this great school.’”

Same goes for nations.

What does the opening ceremony with all that history and culture behind it really brings? You can point to the soft power China projects, you can point to the promoting the understanding of Chinese cultural around the world, you can even point to staging by the Chinese government. But ultimately, it boils down to that lyrics. The pride in historical achievements both motivates Chinese people to "restore the glory", so to speak, and gives them enough confidence of "can do" attitude, which is an invaluable asset and can't be measure by GDP. The culture brings an anchor of self-identity.

That's what touches people in that song.

[p.s.] Michael Phelps, yeeho.

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Hundred Years

[Chinese Version]

China calls the coming Olympics “a hundred year’s dream”. To the Chinese, Olympics is clearly not only a sports gala and party festival. Incidentally, I’ve recently watched Matching to a Republic, a TV series of historical drama. With fifty nine episodes, and 40 plus hours spent on, it probably deserves some of my comments on the historical road China traversed.

Many of the trajectories of present day China can be traced back to hundred years ago. There isn’t much new under the bright sun.

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Let’s start from a scene in a later episode. Sun Yat-sen, who was regarded as the founding father of Republic of China, tried to reorganize his party into a revolution party after he failed the Second-Revolution. At the time, the then president of the new republic, Yuan Shikai, was about to crown himself the emperor of a constitutional monarchy. Of the 11 governors declared as Nationalist Party member, only two supported his agenda in force. Attractive political ideals were no match for practical position in powers. Sun realized the paradox, that he needed more centralized power to achieve his political dream, a real republic. Political construction might get by with loose organization, but a revolution that didn’t have enough public base required authority. He began to encourage political purity and personal loyalty within the party.

Sun didn’t make his political dream a reality. Before him, Emperor Guanxu wanted to reform but lacked real power, Empress Dowager Cixi had the power but didn’t want the radical political reform, at least not while she was still alive. His follower, Chiang, who took a cue from Sun’s realization and took it to another totalitarian level, ran a corrupt government, but at least nominally united China divided by warlords. Mao’s party also understood the secret to survival and what it took to achieve things in China. It promoted ideological purity within party and believed in “Political power grows out of barrels of a gun”. It took only three years for them to win out the civil war. There is no revolution any more today, but the political belief lives on: that you need a degree of central power and authority to get things done in China, where average citizen isn’t informed or active enough of politics. Deng was also such a believer.

Second Revolution wasn’t unique to Sun either. Mao had his own second revolution - the Cultural Revolution. At least part of the motive behind Mao’s second revolution was the same as Sun’s, that he saw his political ideal was in danger, and that his New China was slipping back to the Old China. New bureaucrats were quickly reverting back just like old bureaucrats, and that conflicted with his vision of a strong China. Mao took a page from Sun. To experiment his vision of democracy and people’s power, he encouraged personal idolization of himself and increase his own authoritative power. It degenerated into a disaster. Later elitists inherited the authoritative part but scratched, or postponed democracy part.

The TV drama series stopped short of the Chiang’s era, probably because it was too close for comfort. But Chiang made an unnamed appearance in it. In one episode, a Japanese instructor pointing a finger at mud in a flower pot, said: “This small piece of mud can contain of a large amount of bacteria, hundreds of millions, as many as there any 4 hundred million Chinese.” An angry student went up to the lectern and retorted, “It must contain a hundred million bacteria, as many as the people in Japan.” That man was Chiang.

Ever since Xinhai Revolution, Sun, Chiang, and Mao, their ideology, personal style, and politics were very different, their understandings of the China’s reality and future differ, but they were all nationalist.

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Matching to a Republic as a Chinese production of recent history has some refreshing improvements. Gone are stylized faces and ideological divides. In stead, it depicts historical figures as human and personal touches.

I’ve also witnessed some contemporary historical writing go to another radical extreme. Rewriting and redefining seem to be in fashion. It’s not surprising in the context of the world we live today. Overturning history, whether rightfully so or not, means at least the merit of independent thinking. It attracts attention, usually accompanied by commercial success. If it so happens that Napoleon fought Julius Caesar, or we interpret historical figure with our own modern minds, too bad. Dead people can not explain themselves.

George Washington was a slave owner. He only freed his slaves after both he and his wife died, in his will. But that’s not to say he was not “the greatest man in the world”. Chinese intellectuals at the time especially admired him for not declaring himself the new King of America. In truth, there was little political ground on the American colony for him to crown himself. And why would he anyway？Great leaders are charismatic and of great social conscientious, but they are not living not of their time.

Turning 180 too many times makes us forget where we come from and even where we stand now.

China has a strange tradition of overcorrection. History was dressed up like little school girl according to winds of overcorrection.

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Overcorrection as an ancient political term deserves some interesting investigation. You see, correct as a verb has a natural authoritative, top-down tone to it, like the time God walked into the city of Sodom and decided to correct them, make it just.

To lead a nation as diverse as China, needs tremendous wisdom and courage. To take the shortcut of making a strong nation needs a degree of authority and central power. The problem is that in China, once the power is installed, it does not have the tradition of checking itself. Or that tradition has been lost. With that, came the revolution and subversion, and the more radical solutions in the pass hundred years or so. The question we have to pose to ourselves: does the approach matter even if it is the right thing to do? Where do we place the so called procedure correctness, and where to draw the line?

The central theme in hundred years of China’s political movements is primitively to make the nation stronger. Rights of people come second. Pragmatism has always had market in China. It fits with the tradition of “succeed you becomes the king, fail you becomes the vagabond” well. Political and ideological arenas are no different.

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The modern history of China from hundred years ago started from wars, more precisely, from losing the wars. Since then, general attitude of Chinese toward political system was anxious and goal-oriented, primitively to hope to bring a stronger nation.
An 1876 NYT article said of Chinese “fear of any innovation and reform”. No, it was not describing the religious Tibet, which shall be described as Shangri-La and peace loving etc. Since then, Chinese has made their own conclusion about that piece of history, they flat out concluded: “to be backward is to be beaten.”

The deficiency of politics of which primary goal was to catch up with the world and make the nation stronger – not be mention it was spearheaded by a small population of new elite – was the lack of stability. Only when the population was modernized and learned how to comprise and manage the country through politic could stability be possible. People sometimes are used to all the responsibilities to the leaders and politicians, yet Confucius said: “I reflect upon myself three times a day.”

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The TV drama gave great sympathy to most of the historical figures.

Empress Dowager Cixi was a steady political hand. Her temper might be fickle, but her ability to manage the Qin officials was unmatched. She even had the courage, or foolishness depending on how you see it, to declare war on all major Western powers. However, whatever she did or did not choose to do, she managed the country as if it was her property. Winning the wars would have been nice, but losing wasn’t too much of a disaster either. The burden of war retribution fell on the population, not her highness.

Lee Hongzhang, the last Qin statesman who was called “Bismarck of the East” by the West and once called traitor by the Chinese, devoted his life to China’s diplomatic relation with the world. However, his none-resistant policy was equally costly. He steered clear of the provenances under his governance clear of the military conflict even when the central power in Beijing was been traced out of the city. Once the war was lost, people under his governance couldn’t escape the bitter result either, they would also have to pay war retributions. Frankly, on one hand China was too big for the then imperialists to swallow; on the other, a defeated country has little to bargain for, great diplomatic skill or not. Lee wouldn’t make the slightest difference.

Yuan Shikai, the able politician whose personal ambition drove him to be the hero who ended the Qin monarch, but also doomed him to be one who wanted to become an emperor of his own. But as capable as he was, his Beiyang New Army didn’t register a victory or even a serious fight for the country. In stead, it became a bargaining chip of his own power.

Kang Youwei, the ambitious but impractical reformer who failed, was really the father of all “overseas democratic fighters”.

Chinese like to speak of “grand virtue”, loosely interpreted as fighting for the people, and “personal virtue”. But, grand virtue is sometimes hard to judge, it swings with political and cultural tides. Chinese also often speak of personal political ambition negatively. But ambition isn’t really sinister. The sad tragedy of all these historical figures of the last hundred years was that there wasn’t a system in place to align their personal ambition with the common good of the people.

Luckily, we average folks still have personal virtues to cherish with, especially with the ones close to us.

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The success of the gradualism reform in China was largely praised around the world. Gradualism reform can be traced back to the experience of a hundred years ago. The more radical reform of Wuxu failed, but a more gradual approach later was largely successful.

The world today warily watches China as a “rising power”. Let’s not forget there was a period a hundred years ago the world warily watched China as a possible power, mistakenly we must say, reflectively. The prospect of a large population and vast market was simply attractive, then and now.

The debate started a hundred years ago continued into today: should China make foundation of Chinese wisdom but adopt Western knowledge? Or should China totally westernize, especially in the political areas?

I shall point out this is really a false topic. When enough people opened up to the modern knowledge, when enough people are wealthy and educated enough, when politics is no longer but designed by a small educated elite, people will reach a natural selection. Chinese or Western, does it matter? Moreover, the distinction between Chinese and Western may be water under bridge then. Culture is fluid.

Similarly, Chinese characteristic is a natural mark, not something you proclaim for, or design for. Proclaiming of ___ (feel free to fill in the blank) of Chinese characteristic is always suspicious.

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Speaking of war and treaties, let’s look into a few. The first Sino-Japanese war of Jiawu was largely limited to the navy fights. The central government, the Qin court, was under menace. A treaty was quickly signed. No serious fight was staged. The Battle of Beijing by the eight-nation alliance saw an army of only teens of thousands, with a casualty of less than 2000. Many Chinese forces didn’t fight in the war. The New Army of Beiyang didn’t open a shot, and the South China stayed out of the conflict all together. Although the Boxers, agitators of the conflict, joined the fight, but it’s safe to say no “war of people” happened. To blame the loss of war and unfair treaty all on “to be backward is to be beaten.” seems to be overly simplistic. Fifty years after, facing another advance equipped United Nation army, Chinese forces didn’t loose ground.

It’s not surprising Western powers called the Chinese “loose sand” then. They had a point.

What the new People’s Republic really contributed to the Chinese wasn’t ideological ist, but the new found upward spirit and confidence in the society.

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The Beijing Olympics is said by Beijing and foreign media as a landmark of integrating into the modern world. The process and exploration started more than a hundred years ago.

In fact, the shaping of modern China and its choices are always under the influence of the Western powers, including the worrisome nationalism. People in the West don’t often understand why China can not let go of the memories of more than a hundred years ago. But for Chinese, history from a hundred years ago directly influenced political choices of their nation every step of the way, and thus wired into their current life.

Many people have pointed out Chinese society is often restless. Such restlessness also started a hundred years ago. The history of being the invaded makes people less confident, makes the politics more radical.

If China could have waited the development of the country and its new social class entered the political scene, things might be different. But the international society then didn’t give China patience and time; the wars didn’t give China much time and choices.

Nowadays, the powers make a point not to burden the defeated countries with unbearable debt or too much unfair treatment. That’s an improvement. Lesson learned. But history has no what ifs.

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Now that Beijing Olympics is finally here. For many, “a hundred year’s dream will be complete. Can we get the game start with, and finally get on other businesses?

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