The Chinese grandpa everyone adores

© Ding Guoliang aka Xiaoye Jiexi (Jesse) 小野杰西 :: FRUK Magazine

At the beginning of this year, Chinese netizens went nearly crazy about this really old but incredibly charming chap. Following a lengthy photo session in the bustling streets of southern metropolis Xiamen (Fujian province) organized by his grandson, professional photographer Ding Guoliang aka Xiaoye Jesse, the pictures were posted online and went viral in a matter of days.

No wonder the distinguished 85-year-old gentleman, named Ding Bingcai, became one of the latest Chinese fashion icons and a widely adored web celebrity. The hilarious shots even made into China's mainstream online media, such as People's Daily Online or China Daily. The foreign media scene was not immune to the charms of the elderly heartthrob and stylish yet demure 'fashionista' either (for one example, see here).

Elaborately met in scene by his talented grandson Jesse, the man in question shows a grace and dignity that is extremely rare in this line of business. Expertly presenting borrowed designer suits, shoes, shirts, hats and all the other relevant accessories, the octogenarian had the time of his life, according to 30-year-old Ding Guoliang who always had an avid professional interest in fashion.

To use his grandpa as a willing novice model was definitely a brilliant idea and has brought the Xiamen-based young photo artist a lot of international acclaim that won't hurt his future business ventures.

© Ding Guoliang aka Xiaoye Jiexi (Jesse) 小野杰西 :: ifeng.com

The grand old man himself grew up in a small rural village on the outskirts of Shaowu city in Fujian province. Born in 1931, he started his adult life as a subsistence farmer growing rice and cutting bamboo. Ding later experienced all the hardships of the Great Leap Forward and the following famine that ravished whole districts, but survived and was finally able to marry his childhood sweetheart in 1961.

His five children now live in different Chinese cities, raising or having raised their own children and taking turns in looking after the retired farmer after his beloved wife passed away in 2014.

Looking at fascinating and really touching portraits such as the ones taken by a loving grandson of his intriguing, immaculately dressed elderly relative, a beautiful old soul that has seen it all and lived through some of the worst man-made nightmares imaginable without ever losing his dignity and kindness, gives a small glimmer of hope in these rather trying times. Wouldn't you agree?

(For more examples from the photo session in Xiamen, see here.)

Chinese city planning and social engineering

Bird's-eye view of the Forbidden City :: Beijing (Oct. 2013) :: © Dimitry B.

Have you ever wondered why Chinese city planning is so highly structured and concise but also anarchic, informal, megalomaniac or just damned weird at the same time?

Over the years, I've been mystified and trying hard to get a deeper understanding of the links between ancient and modern urban planning patterns, demographic and economic change, diversifying lifestyles or traditional and contemporary techniques of social engineering by various officials in imperial China or modern state bureaucrats respectively.

An article in the fine series 'The story of cities', published recently on The Guardian's web site and entitled 'Beijing and the earliest planning document in history', is a fascinating and highly instructive read in at least two respects.

First, it's definitely high time to have a closer look at historical precedents regarding Chinese city planning to be able to determine the hidden or not so hidden driving forces behind current urban planning programmes.

Second, the example of the long-serving Chinese capital is especially useful in terms of a capital city's general importance to the political / cultural / economic elite and the general public alike as well as in terms of long-term planning priorities of urban bureaucracies and members of the ruling classes now and then.

Oliver Wainwright's piece in The Guardian mentions the earliest planning document in Chinese history, the so-called 'Kaogong Ji (考工记)' or 'Regulations of Construction', that was widely used during the rule of the Ming emperors.

The text dates from the fifth century B.C. and was part of the famous 'Rites of Zhou (Zhou li 周禮)', an ancient Confucian manual of bureaucracy and organizational theory. Wainwright vividly demonstrates the relevance of such invaluable ancient official documents to legions of officials, philosophers, politicians, administrators or planners.

Historical dimensions of contemporary phenomena are rarely discussed in mainstream media outlets (or academic writings, as a matter of fact). And that's clearly a shame because many puzzles would become much easier to piece together and contextualize.

Think, for instance, of the age-old pattern to build hermetically cordoned-off living (and working) quarters with security guards and all of the essential infrastructure, such as workshops, shops, sport facilities, schools and hospitals, inside the actual premises.

Modern-day gated communities located in the suburbs or premium central areas of big cities echo earlier socialist danwei (work unit) living / working structures as well as even earlier building complexes that were inhabited mainly by well-endowed literati or wealthy land-owners (the so-called 'gentry') and their countless servants.

City Planning Museum :: Beijing (Sept. 2009) :: © Ivan Walsh

Even today's 'urban villages' (chengzhongcun 城中村) and their mostly disenfranchised inhabitants in many Chinese cities share some important traits with their historic counterparts; strategies by urban administrations and the security apparatus, for example, are not that different in terms of strictly policing mobile (and thus possibly unruly and dangerous) populations and in trying to safeguard order on behalf of state and society.

Then and now, peasants, workers, the unemployed, weak, old and poor are still at the bottom of a widely accepted social hierarchy whereas the old / new rich, the ever-growing middle-class and the politically connected have profited enormously in an era of economic reforms and rapid social change.

This seems to be not entirely different from earlier, imperial times in China's long history when day labourers, slaves, servants, peasants or unskilled workers didn't enjoy the rights and privileges skilled workers, administrative personnel, the gentry or the literati claimed for themselves.

But back to the 'urban villages' as just one example how contemporary trends may reflect earlier phenomena: Intimidation, eviction and resettlement are most prominent among the various measures city governments take to get out or keep out unwanted 'guests' who don't belong.

Only recently, the central government and city governments have begun to realize that the real estate bubble is threatening the country's economic and social stability and are thus more inclined to make good on promises made a very long time ago.

By giving rural migrants the right to buy less expensive homes in cities and thus being able to obtain an urban hukou (household registration) with all the privileges it entails, the Chinese government is desperately trying to fix the multiplying problems in an overheated real estate market as well as further advance an ambitious urbanization strategy.

The many paradoxes and excesses in contemporary urban planning projects are surely not lost on the writer of the article in The Guardian. He convincingly makes the point that city planning has always been a distinct Chinese method to order society according to preconceived, ancient notions of propriety, class, age, gender, family relations and a classic as well as an up-to-date mechanism to exact a rigorous form of social engineering.

After crossing the Nanpu bridge from Pudong over to Puxi :: Shanghai (2008) :: © Jakob Montrasio

The author puts it this way (and I tend to agree):

'The ancient cosmological symbolism may long have fallen away from the streets of Beijing, but the role of city planning as a means of enforcing social order is as strong as ever.' 

(The Guardian, March 17, 2016)

I highly recommend to have a look at the other eight parts in 'The story of cities' series, namely the articles covering the examples of Alexandria (part 1), Rome (part 2), Baghdad (part 3), Benin City (part 5), Potosí (part 6), Philadelphia (part 7), St Petersburg (part 8) and Kingston (part 9).

The Guardian plans to publish 50 parts in total to outline past and present of global urbanization. A new article has been published nearly every day so far and the editors have been largely successful in recruiting well-informed and witty writers.

I continue to love 'The Grauniad' for exciting novel projects such as this one (the whole 'Cities' section where the series runs is supported by The Rockefeller Foundation, by the way).

A life-long passion for music :: Shanghai's coolest jazz band

© Autlook Filmsales

'As time goes by in Shanghai', a lovely 2013 feature documentary by acclaimed German director, cinematographer, screenwriter, editor and one-time musician Uli Gaulke came to my attention belatedly. The documentary film (DE & NL) has been invited to some of the more important international film festivals and won the Audience Award at the Saratov Sufferings International Documentary Drama Film Festival.

(Note: the DVD is available on Amazon or you can stream it in case you are Amazon Prime customer)

In this adorable gem of a documentary, the German film-maker accompanies and interviews the members of one of the most graceful old-school jazz bands (still) alive: the 'Peace Old Jazz Band'.

The plan by their concerned but very persuasive manager to have them make an appearance at the most prestigious international jazz festival, the North Sea Jazz Festival Rotterdam, is met with restrained enthusiasm. Obviously, the guys have to chatter, eat, smoke and practise their respective instruments quite some time before leaving for their latest adventure in foreign lands.

The biggest problem is to find a suitable female singer for the performance in far-away Rotterdam. Jasmine Chen, a renowned artist in her own right, is arguably the best fit by far and consequently hired on the spot.

Upon arrival in Holland, the old-boy band is warmly greeted and pampered around the clock by their Shanghainese (female, of course) caretaker. After getting a short crash course in Dutch culture, answering a few (rather stupid, in their opinion) questions by the media and some downtime, they are ready for the big event.

Unfortunately, one of the guys, Lao (Old) Sun, is suffering from a swollen foot and has to go to a hospital. But that doesn't hold him or his colleagues back for long - really nervous at first, sweating and anxious, they finally step onto the stage and begin to play their old-fashioned tunes like the masters of traditional American-inspired jazz music they once were in the old days.

Mr Sun Jibin :: © Flying Moon Filmproduktion :: Rick Liston

Zhang Jingyu (73 years, piano), Li Mingkang (77 years, contrabass), Sun Jibin (80 years, sax & clarinet), Gao Honglin (71 years, alto sax), Lu Mengqiang Lu (53 years, trumpet) and Bao Zhengzhen (93! years, drums) are the names of the members of this exceptional band that has performed at the famous Peace Hotel in Shanghai for - literally - ages.

Many visitors, tourists and residents alike, frequent the hotel only to enjoy the venerable boy band playing its special kind of American jazz that was so widely celebrated during the roaring 1920s in China's most sophisticated metropolis.

The 'Peace Old Jazz Band' has made history and the men constituting it have lived through so many political upheavals and personal catastrophes (think of the Civil War, the defeat of the Guomindang troops and the founding of the PR China, the Great Leap Forward, the Cultural Revolution, Mao's death and the reign of the Gang of Four, the subsequent rise of Deng Xiaoping, the advent of turbo-capitalism, and so on) they are quite immune to emotional overload, undue nostalgia or excessive worries (but not to more or less severe health issues, evidently). And it's exactly this trait that makes them unique among the residents of contemporary Shanghai, especially the younger ones.

I would recommend to have a look at a short article as well as a longer video that closely follows the band's preparations for the trip to Rotterdam, the actual journey and the final festival appearance - filmed by Uli Gaulke and his team - on Al Jazeera's English-language site here.

In this very nice piece that was published in the so-called 'Witness' series, the German film-maker reminisces about the evolution of this amazing but quite challenging film project:

'Two years ago, I read a magazine story about a band in the booming metropolis of Shanghai, which had been stoically playing American jazz every day for the past thirty years. In a city that is continually striving to erase its past, these elderly gentlemen seemed like rocks in the waves, concealing a treasure trove of fantastic stories ... 

But even though our musicians could tell wonderful stories, I initially felt little empathy for them. They were always in a hurry to tell their tales and let them quickly vanish behind a brash smile. 

This was the greatest challenge for me; putting on the brakes and finding the time and space where they could have the peace of mind to let their memories re-surface. After much trial and error, I discovered that these moments came during and after meals. Now our real work could begin ...

In the end, I chose to focus on Mr Sun and Mr Bao - two men whose amiability and dry humour were infectious and who enjoyed being in front of the camera. In moments such as the flirting scene with the female singer, I could feel the people I was portraying, and experience a moment of great truth.' 

(Al Jazeera 'Witness'; June 5, 2014)

And now prepare yourselves for some jazzy tunes, a few beats and the most charming twinkle of Lao Sun.