Author: Jingyi

Urban transformation in China is a mixture of violence, destruction, and exclusion. State exploits ordinary people to build the infrastructure, but ignores their petitions and voices. Jin Feng’s Wordless Petitions (2006) employs ordinary people as subjects and redistributes visibility from the glorious Chinese urbanization to the migrant workers. This article explores the composition, color, and site of Wordless Petitions, which all reflect the cruelty imposed on the workers in the process of urban transformation. 

The gestures and facial expressions of these workers indicate that they are subject to poverty and harsh living conditions. Their positions against the wall and impatient gestures mark the endless waiting for the government to accept their petitions. (in terms of composition) The immobility gesture of standing or squatting also signifies their hopelessness as if the time is frozen and they have to stay in this static poverty forever. There are elders, children, and adults among these workers, however, they all show a dull and listless facial expression. One can read from the children’s concerning faces that their future is destined to be despairing. The burden of raising a family has erased the smile and positive expression from all adults in the picture. And workers all have their heads slightly lowered facing the ground to convey the passive feeling and repression from the state. Only one of them looks up to the sky, but not in a positive or hopeful way. She stands in the center among these workers as if she represents all of them to ask for an explanation of this unfairness from heaven. (the significance of the composition because of the collective identity of migrant workers and their sheer numbers against the wall. The long line of the migrant workers, the sculpted bodies, and silenced faces ….. assert a powerful petition against social injustice)

Besides, Jin sheds light on the dispossession of these migrant workers through their appearances and the empty cardboard. The clothes are all oversized and scruffy on them as if the clothes have been reused for many years and even passed around families. The two naked boys in the picture wear adult size slippers because the family cannot afford to buy them new shoes. The picture also shows that all female workers do not wear makeup and have the same ponytail hairstyle, which is the most convenient for them to get ready for the labor-intensive day.

In all demonstrations and petitions, people hold cardboard with slogans and words on it. However, just as the title indicates, these cardboards in workers’ hands are wordless and empty. Two explanations can relate to this blank feature of cardboard. One explanation is that these workers have too many petitions and complains that would never fit in the limited space on cardboards. Another explanation is that the workers lost their identity and language along with the dispossession of their social status and lands in the process of urbanization. (wordless petition: the voiceless migrant workers turn their silence into petitions)

Last but not least, the use of the golden color and the red-brick wall both illustrate the exclusion of migrant workers. Jin paints golden color on the clothes and faces of these migrant works to refer to their invisibility and the lack of identity under the progression of the state. On the other hand, the golden outfits, which appear like soldiers’ uniforms, glorify the sacrifice of workers. Ironically, the state deprives workers’ identity in the same way as their treatment to soldiers. Jin chooses the red-brick wall as the site because one would directly connect the red-brick with workers. However, one would never connect workers with fine-designed architectures, which seem to be a privilege enjoyed only by upper-class citizens. Both the color and the site reflect the violence done to these workers.

Jin brings visibility of the destruction to these migrant workers through the depiction of gestures and appearances of workers, the use of color, and the site in Wordless Petitions.

On the outskirts of Shenzhen, Dafen Village is best known for its reproduction of oil painting masterpieces. Since 1989, because of its ideal geographical location, Dafen has developed into an adept market attracting migrant workers and foreign investment. In the early twenty-first century, however, to accommodate the shrinking export-oriented economy and increased labor cost, Dafen shifts into an original artistic creation phase. This article explores the “Made in China” phase and  “Created in China” phase of Dafen through visual illustrations.

The “Made in China” phase of Dafen features a labor-intensive industry and harsh living conditions for migrant workers. The photographs captured in reproduction studios identify the characteristics of Dafen in this phase. Like assembly lines in industrial factories, the workroom appears to be murky and suffocating under the gloomy light and crowded space. In the foreground, shirtless workers rest with barely any bedding on the floor. The broken mat and their skinny appearance indicate the harsh living conditions in Dafen. The disorganized painting brushes and pigments above them further reveal the messy working environment of this labor-intensive industry. With endless orders for reproducing paintings, there is no time to clean or set up a sanitized working environment. Besides, the glowing light and the juxtaposed space between the art pieces in the background and the workers resting in the foreground show the intense working pace. Workers sleep under the glowing light tube as if they have to return to work once they wake up even at midnight. (sleep under the watchful gaze of Van Gogh)

Most workers work in private enterprise that incorporates family members in one household. That means husband, wife, and even children all contribute to the reproducing industry in Dafen. This photograph shows a common Dafen working studio, which also functions as a living space for the family. While the wife is painting a self-portrait of Van Gogh in the middle ground, the husband organizes and hangs up the reproduced masterpieces in the foreground. The rice cooker on the edge of this photograph indicates that this is also a dining place for the family. In the background, uncles and aunts are bustling around to look after the children. To avoid damaging the art pieces, aunts hold children in their arms when examining the art pieces. All the paintings on the floor and walls are meticulously reproduced as one can barely distinguish them from the original masterpieces. The private enterprise and harsh living environment thus signify the economic identity of Dafen’s labor-intensive painting-reproduction industry. (it is interesting to see woman as the “artist” in the middle ground)

As time goes by, both the government and workers themselves realize the lack of cultural identity for Dafen. From there, Dafen moves into the “Created in China” phase. To attract young artists and students to contribute to the creativity of Dafen, residences and studios for migrant workers are repainted into colorful blocks forming a contrast with the monotonous high-rise buildings in the background. The government funds the construction of the Dafen Art Museum, which features modern architectural design using neutral colors. The unconventional designed pattern of the museum marks the breakthrough of Dafen from its reproduction tradition. Through the original paintings and sculptures around the modern-looking museum, Dafen gains its unique artistic identity. (transition from made in China to created in China could be more complex and difficult) Furthermore, the organized brushes in this studio in Dafen indicate that the private working space also becomes more sanitized as painters pursuing quality over quantity. All the seven paintings on the wall are original creations. (detailed observations needed here) This vibrant creating culture has become a trend in Dafen today. 

Through the transition of identity, Dafen represents a potential for China to transform its industrial zones into culture zones with sustainable development.

 

Since its construction in 1923 on the Bund, Building 12 has been occupied by different powers from its original owner the Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank Corporation to the current possessor the Shanghai Pudong Development Bank. Designed by the British architecture firm Palmer & Turner Architects and Surveyors, the HSBC Building is a bright pearl on the Bund. This article will explore the architecture’s site, scale, and ornamental compositions, which contribute to the banking power and commercial function of HSBC. 

The HSBC Building located next to the Custom House in the center of the Bund, yet the building’s scale is not inferior (rather ….) compared to its neighbor. The strategic place allows HSBC to fully exploit its commercial function. Since the businessmen on the Bund would have to cooperate with the ICMCS office in the Custom House, there is an increased chance for them to walk pass by the HSBC Building after finishing the document in the Custom House. In this way, the likelihood to receive deposits is higher for the bank as it gains this prime location. Appreciating the two buildings from the Pudong side of the river, one will notice that the HSBC Building as a focal point is even more significant than the Custom House. This magnificent scale is established by the building’s elongated and horizontal layout compared to its neighbors’ narrow and vertical style. This horizontal layout indicates HSBC gained the advantage over other powers to not only have access to the water but also have the widest space coverage on the Bund. The supreme site and the remarkable size of the building both signify HSBC’s dominating power on the Bund in the early twentieth century.

The architecture’s exterior decoration and material further strengthen the opulence of HSBC, which contributes to the bank’s credibility among its customers. The HSBC Building takes the neoclassicist style but with six ionic columns as decoration in the center of the architecture. These ionic columns are imitation of Greek temples, symbolizing the Greek Revival style, which was the most popular architectural trend around the world at that time. By displaying this latest trend on its headquarters, HSBC demonstrates its progressive attitude and advanced power (how and why the greek revival style would reinforce the banking credibility). The material for this building is granite bricks, which is named as the “king of architecture material”, also used for the Monument to the People’s Heroes in Beijing. In this way, the architectural material granite itself speaks for the monumentality (yes, but why) of the HSBC Building. 

Taking a closer perspective of the HSBC Building, the delicate and luxurious ornaments highlight the firmly established status of the bank. A conspicuous decoration next to the gate of the building is the pair of bronze lions. These two lions take different postures as one appears to be fierce and roaring in comparison to the other’s calm and peaceful gesture. According to the traditional Chinese belief of applying Feng Shui into architectural design, these lions represent both security and protection for the bank (introduce the topical claim at the beginning of the paragraph). This implicit meaning reflects the HSBC’s function of protecting and securing customers’ wealth. The intricately designed dome features with frescos of the eight cities that HSBC had branches, including Tokyo, Hong Kong, London, etc. These frescos enhance HSBC’s credibility to its clients as its power spreads across the globe.

The HSBC Building earns its reputation as journalists once described it as “the most luxurious building between the Suez Canal and the Bering Strait.” The site, scale, and intricately designed ornaments on the HSBC Building persuasively articulate the power of HSBC and its commercial significance.

Citation: Xin, Xu. “A Gem in the History of Chinese Architecture: Bund 12.” Journal of Property Management Vol. 78, Issue 3 (May, 2013). https://go.gale.com/ps/i.dop=AONE&u=brun62796&id=GALE%7CA331486694&v=2.1&it=r&sid=summon

 

This black and white photograph is captured near a demolished courtyard house. The photographer employs black and white style to contribute to a nostalgic and sympathetic emotion for the destroyed family history and residential area. The rule of thirds proportionally divides the photograph into three portions, and the spatial relationship of these three portions visualizes the demolition process for the courtyard houses and the contrast between courtyard houses and socialist-style apartments. 

Functioning as a transition phase between the ruins in the foreground and the socialist-style apartments in the background, the middle ground with the intact courtyard house narrates the unique features of the evanescent courtyard houses. The wooden door and the tree-dominated roofscape both represent the iconic architectural elements for the historic city of Beijing. The flat and horizontal layout of this courtyard house indicates its cultural function, as the shared courtyard and proximately constructed rooms would enhance the community spirit. However, one can barely feel reassured because of the closeness of this courtyard house to the ruins. This spatial layout indicates the imminent threat of demolition that will destroy this intact courtyard as well. 

The dispersed and scrambled bricks in the foreground signifies a demolished site of the courtyard houses. With similar appearance to a battleground, the original courtyard house is destroyed into ruins. The scattered objects on the ruins further evoke feelings of being conquered and helplessness. As the damaged sofas and broom disorderly lie on the ruins, they shed light on the desolate life fragment of the households that used to live in this courtyard. Through the focal point of a man biking pass the ruins, the photographer explores the relationship between him and the ruins. His lusterless clothes and sluggish gestures echo with the ruins. The man might be a resident, who used to live in the courtyard house with his family. Together with other potentially hidden objects under the bricks, the family stories and the identity of this man along with the courtyard house are forgotten and ignored by the state as it disregardfully destructs these courtyards. The foreground and the middle ground thus characterize the past, which gradually fades away under the blade of bulldozers. 

In the background, the socialist middle-rise apartments, replaced the demolished courtyard houses, appears to be monotonous and uniform as the windows and architectural structure for each floor look all the same. One can barely distinguish these apartments from buildings in other cities in China. Compared to the flat courtyard houses in the middle ground, these apartments are constructed vertically and separately. The ceiling and floor mark the interaction boundaries between residents. The increased density of rooms in apartment buildings isolates people from sharing public space so that the notion of common courtyards and Hutong is fading away. The skeleton branches without vividness in the background further depicts the stillness and lifelessness of the uniformly constructed apartment houses. The lack of proximity and identity features the socialist-style apartments. 

By utilizing the proportional composition with the nostalgic objects scattered on the ruins and the man as a focal point, this black and white photograph exposes the demolition process and the vanishing identity caused by the destruction of courtyards. Though the tone of this photograph is negative, I believe people in Beijing today has already realized the negative externality of courtyard houses’ demolition as more and more artists and architects are working together to restore the historical and cultural identity of courtyards.