Courtyard
Hi Art, May
2007
The editor of
Hi Art has called me twice to invite me to contribute something. I have
to take these opportunities when they arise, otherwise he’ll never ask
me again.
In recent
weeks, I have heard several people recalling memories of childhoods in
courtyards. They stamp their feet and beat their chests as they recount
tearfully the happy times of childhood. For those of us who were savage
children, growing up beside railways and roads, we feel inferior that we
were not privy to the fine life lived by the children of the general
staff, the Navy Song and Dance Troupe, or the family of the Fine Arts
College faculty.
I naively
thought that when New China was established nearly sixty years ago,
class discrimination and oppression was eliminated. Now, I realize that
a new group of “nobles” emerged from I don’t know where, and disharmony
has existed ever since. The only difference is that in the past, power
mattered, whereas now it’s money.
In the past,
people with power poked fun at those without power, and distinguished
themselves by living separately. Today, the rich can still live in the
same quarters as the poor, and in this way it appears that society has
moved forward. But harmony continues to be a problem.
When I was
young, I lived in the family accommodation for the Capital Iron and
Steel Co in Shijingshan, west of Beijing. Tens of thousands of people
lived there, and workers and factory employees were mixed in with the
farmers who grew vegetables. You couldn’t tell from looking at peoples’
faces who did what.
Later, I went
to school downtown, but would travel by bike in order to save money for
a few meals. As I cycled through Haidian on my way home, I would pass
the courtyards owned by state and army units. In particular, I was
impressed by the courtyards of Cuiwei Lu and Wanshou Lu. They were
solemn and horrifying. Nobody could enter, no matter now small you were,
and the people who emerged walked with proud and confident manners. Even
the guards looked as though they could affect the state of affairs.
Several
youngsters with adult family members would stand by the front gates with
civilized and polite manners. Then, it came to me that people were
indeed living entirely separate lives. The clean, straight walls of the
compounds suggested a life inside that was a far cry from where I lived.
The girls inside must surely dress neatly and behave gracefully -
nothing like the girls from my neighborhood, who rarely washed their
faces. In spite of these airs and graces, I disliked those courtyards.
Time moved
on. Reform and opening has benefited China for more than 20 years, and
new movements of live have begun. Driving, buying apartments, going
abroad are no longer dreams. And if someone wants to boast about his or
her experience abroad, it is the listener and not the speaker who has a
say in starting up the conversation. In the twinkling of an eye, people
began to aspire for a high level, cultured inner life.
We soon
became familiar with the former arms factory of 798. Built by the German
Democratic Republic with our socialist brothers in the Soviet Union
acting as go-betweens, the plant was built in the uniform Bauhaus style,
whose sturdiness could rival that of Japanese defense towers, and bear
any hammering of the decoration workers. Now, it has been turned into an
artistic zone, with nearly 100 galleries, studios, bookshops, and
information institutes from home and abroad. People flock there to sell
and buy paintings, sculptures, radiators, photos, devices, and foreign
art books. Some rush all the way across here to collect items as soon as
the auction market makes the first sign of interest in a new trend.
Others sell unconventional garments with independent labels. Some are
here for the artists’ vain admiration, and some aspire to go down in
history. Some throw away the still reusable residue after decoration,
while a few small female security guards with cheeks as red as cherries
stand at the entrance to prevent taxis from entering.
I like this
district, because it is a relatively free area that belongs to all the
people, just like the Yutai Teahouse owned by Lao She’s character Wang
Lifa - where anyone can slide in as long as the world outside does not
change.
I also like
this area because its artistic components have changed. In the 1950s,
small sparks were scattered here and there, and people tried to act
against the government or say what they wanted to say. My generation
born in the 1960s never said anything, and liked painting around the
city’s edged, but never entered the center. For those from the 1970s and
1980s, their attitude is more straight forward, and they play around
downtown. These adolescents, with their foreign peers, are like a pack
of happy moles, digging the earth and smelling the air above and below
ground, doing what I never could previously imagine doing, and speaking
what I failed to understand. They are leisurely, free, and stubborn with
their ideas. Words such as “teacher” and “master” frequently slip from
their mouths, making fun of those older than them. Their international
outlook are wide and gentle, and completely different to my own
generation, who are blind and confused.
Today’s
adolescents may be the nth generation of the morning sun, welcomed into
the area - and they are surely the product of a third or fourth
generation of peaceful evolution after the imperialists left.
But times
have changed, and those artists who return from the nations of the
imperialists do not find that opportunities await them back in China.
The new generation is turning a blind eye to them, and I think that
there will not be any “nobles” any more. Or at least, those bastards
will never live the life that they enjoyed in the past.
The 798
District managed by these children grows and flourishes. As Mr. Guo
Degang, a post-70s and not-so-famous comic crosstalk actor said,
“Tian’anmen may be moved here”.
No. 798
courtyard managed by those children is more and more flourishing. Here I
want to quote a sentence by Mr. Guo Degang, a post-70s not-so-famous
comic cross-talk actor, “It is said that Tian An Men will be moved to
here”.
Zhu Wei
Sunday, April
15, 2007
大院
《Hi艺术》2007年5月号
Hi艺术的编辑两次来电话让写点。我想别给脸不要脸，再不写恐怕没下次了。
最近听的看的总是当年生活在大院里的孩子们关于大院的各种回忆，捶胸顿足，声泪俱下，怀念当年灿烂优越的幸福时光，弄得我们这些当年在铁道边、马路边玩大的、一天也没在总参大院、海军大院、歌舞团大院、美院家属院混过的野孩子们，时隔多年还得跟着惭愧。我他妈总觉得新中国眼看就六十了，自打成立那天起，已经消灭阶级、没有压迫了，没想到还愣是弄出一批“贵族”来，看来不和谐那时就有。只不过当时比较突出的是有权的和没权的，现在比较突出的是有钱的和没钱的。当时是有权的笑话没权的，有权的和没权的分开单住，现在是有钱的和没钱的还有可能住在一个小区里，看来社会还是进步了。但和谐依然是个问题。
我小时候住在北京西边石景山的首钢家属区。几十万人住在那里，厂子里的工人和附近种菜的农民混在一起，分不清楚谁谁。没一人脸上恬出优越感。后来到城里上学，为了俭省饭钱，我还是每天骑车回家吃饭。从海淀一路骑回去，中途总得经过一些国家机关大院、军队大院，特别是翠微路、万寿路一带，军队各大小兵种的大院林立，个个威严，座座?人。这些大院，再小的也严禁进入，里面出来的人个个透着自信和精神，连站岗的士兵好像国家大事他也能定。门口有时还站着几个和大人一起出门的半大小子，也个个透着礼貌、文明。当时我就觉得人和人真的不一样！望着大院干净挺拔的围墙，就想里面一定和我住的乱哄哄的居民区不同，里面的小姑娘们也肯定个个干净体面，不像我住的那排房子的几个女同学，天天脸都不洗。但是我从心眼里不喜欢那些大院。
转眼改革开放二十多年了，新生活运动开始了，开车、买房、出国都不算啥了，谁要是想说点国外见闻什么的还得看别人的脸色，转眼人们开始向往高层次的精神生活了。说话七九八出现了。七九八也是个大院，以前是五十年代由苏联社会主义老大哥牵线、请民主德国人来盖的军工厂，厂房一水包豪斯风格，坚固程度不亚于日本人盖的炮楼，任装修工人怎么砸至今没听说有塌的，现在成了拥有近百个国内外画廊、工作室、书店、艺术资讯机构的艺术区了。有卖画的，有买画的；有卖雕塑的，有买雕塑的；有卖暖气片的，有买暖气片的；有卖照片的，有买照片的；有卖装置的，有买装置的；有卖国外艺术书籍的，有买外国艺术书籍的；有拍卖市场一咳嗽，就喘着来这里收件的；有卖贴上艺术标签的另类服装的，有敢穿来买的；有来崇拜艺术家的，有来装孙子让人崇拜的；有想载入史册的，有来搜集材料还不好意思说是趁热搅“屎”其实是搅“屎”棍的；有装修完还挺好的下脚料堆那儿不要的，有来拿走隔墙扔出去卖钱的，安什么心的都有，都没人拦。几个脸蛋红扑扑的小女保安只拦出租车不让进。我喜欢这个大院，这是一个相对自由的大院，是属于大家伙的，就象王利发开的老裕泰，谁来都行，只要世道不变，就这么往下出溜。我喜欢这个大院，还因为它的艺术成分发生了变化。五十年代那拨是散落在各地的星星之火，总想与政府抗争，总想说点啥；六十年代也就是我这一拨是打擦边球，总是打死也不说，围着城市画画，就是不进城；到了七十、特别是八十年代这拨，他们的态度更干脆，就是玩儿，直接在城市里玩儿、在市中心玩儿。这帮孩子加上外国孩子，像一群快乐的鼹鼠，从地上到地下，上刨下蹬、左叼右闻，做着我当年想都想不到的事，说着我怎么也听不懂的一些话。他们从容、自在、态度谦和，主意特正，经常张嘴老师长、闭嘴大师短，基本是哄着所有比他们年纪大的人玩儿。他们的国际视野宽广平和，不像我们这拨提起来就腿肚子转筋摸不着头脑，嘴上还硬嚷嚷着要接鬼。这帮孩子也许是这个大院迎来的第n拨八九点钟的太阳，他们一准是当年帝国主义和平演变预言中的第三代、第四代。可现在世道变了，那些陆续从帝国主义国家回来的艺术家都赖着不走，都说这儿好，这儿有机会，这儿有第二春、第三春。孩子们都睁一眼闭一眼过去了。我想再也不会有“贵族”了，最起码那帮丫挺的再也过不上当年的日子了。
七九八大院让这帮孩子们折腾得越来越火，借用70后笑星非著名相声演员郭德纲的话：“听说天安门也要往这儿搬了。”
——朱伟
2007年4月15日星期日 |
