Shanghai: History, Culture, and Art: Archives

ANTHONY SIXTO writes: So I watched the sun set over the Gulf of Boothia (just north of the Hudson) and watched it rise over the Siberian mountain range. I mean, it doesn’t get much better than that. Those are the moments that really remind you how much of a speck of dust you are in the universe, you know, real Discovery Channel shit. You look down at faint signs of human civilization from 30,000 feet and they look like some kind of fungus growing on earth’s surface. Fungus with credit cards.

But damn, that sunset, I saw colors I’ve never seen before. As we flew above the clouds, the vibrant mesh of reds, oranges, and just a hint of purple beamed through the sky. It was almost the perfect sunset, almost. It was just missing one thing (maybe some green), but it will have to do for now.

Another one of these joys that can only be experienced on a well-timed plane ride, pissing while being hurled through the sky and break-neck speeds. Here I am at the North Pole, above the clouds, traveling however many hundreds of miles per hour, standing with perfect balance answering nature’s call. I can’t be the only one who smirks when thinking about that.

Oddly enough, landing in Shanghai felt curiously comfortable, routine almost. It wasn’t until I started roaming the neighborhood around the hotel that the feeling of being somewhere new really settled into my consciousness. Even then, it doesn’t really feel foreign, just fresh. A lot of it has to do with my familiarity with big cities and this being yet another big city. So there is a level of comfort in the chaotic nature of the flashing lights, bustling crowds, and hectic traffic that just barely misses hitting someone at every other crosswalk. It’s just another place full of people living life. Everything is in a different language and most people don’t speak English, which I expected, so not much of a culture shock thing going on here.

The streets are flooded with bikes and scooters. They don’t abide to the rules of the road. They flow through the streets as if they were a singular living entity. So, if they are coming down the road as you are crossing it’s best to get the hell out of the way. This relates to another slight difference over here, as long as you give someone an inch, whether walking or in a car, they are going to take it. Stopping to let you pass means stopping about an inch away from you. This makes for some interesting street crossing.

It is still very early in the trip but the city feels like a city aiming for the future. It is lit up, but not like “hey please look at me” Las Vegas lit up, more like “this is how a future city should look” lit up. That is contrasted with the sight of construction equipment and torn up land almost everywhere you look. I got a glimpse of what looks like their version of the projects coming in but didn’t get a chance to check it out that area yet.

The professors are on top of things and are doing a great job. My classmates seem like good people thus far. Looks like the trip should be a memorable one.

So I end the first day kicking back in my room, listening The Infamous as I write this, thinking about what I think about these days, appreciating the sneak peek at Shanghai that sits outside my window.

Goodnight from the other side of the world. I will be right back.

peace

Anthony Sixto is a Game Design: Animation major.

ANTHONY SIXTO writes: Today we took a ride down to the area of the city known as the French Concession. It is the area that has a heavy Western influence dating back to when it was colonized by the French. So there is Western style architecture and culture all over the place. A lot more signs are in English and a lot more dirty westerners roaming around. Interesting, but kind of annoying to see Starbucks and KFC sneaking around the neighborhood.

My intrigue was heightened by the smaller hidden neighborhoods. Tucked away, out of view from the main streets and storefronts, are the packed-in apartments and homes sporadically placed on top of each other. What looks like an alley is a weaving road through a community of low-hanging electrical wires, rusty bikes, dripping pipes, and fish still breathing on the sales table. It was during the day and people went about their business in the little space they had at their front doors. Bikes got fixed, fish gutted, pastries sold, laundry dried, and casual conversation took place on this block. A woman named Maya led us through tons of these neighborhoods and some historical landmarks. It was a great tour, but after awhile I was a little self conscious. I mean, we were basically walking through these people’s backyards and taking pictures of their underwear hanging from their windows. Most of the people found it amusing…

Everyone was really nice, for the most part. They waved, smiled, and spoke to us whether we understood or not. My classmate even had a nice old man pose for a picture, appropriately showing off the old lady he was pushing in a wheelchair (who smiled for the flick too). The key word is for the MOST part. The least part involved some very pissed-off cook yelling at me for trying to get a picture of his stash of delicious dough rolls. He waved me away. My Mandarin is a bit rough (as in it is nonexistent), but I believe what he said roughly translates to, “GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!” So I did.

Right after the tour we had another great lunch. During the lunch I realized that although talking and getting along fine with my classmates, I still didn’t know most of their names. Which was fine, they didn’t know mine either. After that we stopped by the Urban Reconstruction museum. For those who don’t know, it’s a museum about Urban Reconstruction….

At the museum, a few of us were following one of our guides for the day. He is a professor, originally from Germany, named Lothar. That’s right, his name is Lothar. Later I decided he should be called Lothar the Great. He is an older, intelligent, composed person, but that name immediately gives him the power to demolish skyscrapers with one punch to the face (Yeah. He knows how to punch a skyscraper in the face). It was great to pick his brain about some of the economic dynamics of the city and some of the social issues of the past as well as the present. It was also from the fourth floor of the museum I saw the Park Hotel in the skyline. The very same hotel my grandfather was stationed at in 1943. It was surreal to say the least, having previously only seen it in his pictures from 1943. I will get a chance to visit it in the next couple days.

The day was so packed this blog entry really is only the tip of the iceberg. So to try and summarize the rest I will break it down like this: Dim Sum, bus ride, classmate deathly afraid of heights, inappropriate bathroom disaster stories, miniature city models, 2010 expo demos, scuffed shoes, talking to a shoeshine lady, turning down shoeshine lady's service, arguing with shoeshine lady, shined shoes, busy streets, pears boiled in beer in hotel kitchen, classmate makes up words, teachers almost causing bike pile up, great food, great times, sleep.

There is too much to write really, I’ll have photos when I get back. Plus the rest of the stories will be told. Right now things are still swirling in my head and haven’t settled yet.

Thanks for reading, go do something else now.

3!

peace

Anthony Sixto is a Game Design: Animation major.

ANTHONY SIXTO writes: We got a chance to really experience the city and people. We made our way through the commercial side of the city and visited temples and street markets. The markets were like nothing I never witnessed before, crowds of people pushed their way through the streets, occasionally parting to allow a bike or a car inching its way in the opposite direction. Sounds of sizzling food, clinging metal, kids playing and people yelling to grab customer’s attention swirled around our heads. Every once and awhile a domestic cat or dog would scamper through the foot traffic, weaving in and out of people’s legs and food carts. Every dog I saw had a shirt on.

Slimy squids, puffy pastries, bloody fish, dead eels, live snakes, giant cucumbers, living crabs and dying fish are just a handful of things sprawled out on the street for blocks. Vendors float over their goods, while the chefs, almost back to back, are chopping boiling, scraping all types of ingredients. A caged chicken gently pecked at the head of a duck that was breathing its last breathe just outside the cage. Hanging over the heads of the vendors, bamboo scaffolds decorated the front of the buildings. One step brought your nose the most alluring smells of fresh food; the next would bring the most repugnant smell of who knows what. It was the very definition of beautiful chaos.

Some of the best food of the trip came from these hectic street markets. There is nothing like eating the food fresh off the carts or chopping table. It tastes great, its fresh as it gets and the surroundings are just as much of a part of the meal as the meal itself. It was kind of like an episode of Anthony Bourdain’s show. Well, except there were no cameras, no Anthony Bourdain, no prior knowledge of the food and I wasn’t getting paid for my smart ass comments. But other than that, it was just like it…

The Taoist and Confucian temples were impressive. The sculptures and gardening arrangements were one of a kind. Little houses held the original tables and chairs dating back hundreds of years. Obviously it is a very different ideology, but the very concept of the gardens and spaces was like nothing in the United States. All it takes is a couple blocks of walking and the chaos of the street markets is left behind in exchange for peaceful surroundings of ponds, willow trees and tea houses. Of course, the skyscrapers peaking over the walls of the temple remind you just how powerful the peace of the place is.

We had a free night so we headed out to a pool hall and bar with a few students from a University in Shanghai. Among these students was the man, the myth himself, LEO! (You HAVE to yell when pronouncing his name) The night involved getting our asses kicked in pool in a game that was dubbed communists versus capitalist by LEO! We eventually made our way to the bar where we played a dice game that had my classmates licking tables, getting rejected by gay women, drinking the leftover of every cup on the table and of course, proposing to LEO! The proposal also involved an elaborate prenuptial discussion. I dodged all Shenanigans because I simply flipped the dice so it didn’t match the lucky number.

Back at the apartment we discussed just how epic of a human being LEO was and that his official slogan is, “LEO IS A FUCKING CHAMP!”

Here are some dead fish.

Peace

ANTHONY SIXTO writes: Before set off on Day 4, most of us had breakfast together in the hotel’s lounge area. There we spread the word of LEO to the classmates who decided to go to a Karaoke place the previous night. They sounded like they enjoyed themselves, but they have yet to witness the LEO experience.

The class, lead by our fearless leaders Natasha, Liz and Elena, headed to the Buddhist temple not far from the Hotel. People were everywhere burning incense and worshiping inside the temple walls. The smoke wafted into the air as flakes of ash danced amongst the red lanterns hanging overhead. The gleaming gold and jade statues of Buddha were remarkable. Of course, no Buddhist temple would be complete without a gift shop. Didn’t get a chance to check it out, but I’m sure it was really, really cool…

A small pond near the back of the temple was full of Koi fish that could be fed with the fish food available at a desk off to the side. They said it was good luck and if we fed them we would get what we wanted. So some of us fed them, I wished for a sandwich; still waiting…

Feeding them was an odd feeling; the Koi swam to the surface and sucked the food off my hand. It was kind of fun until one of the fish felt me up with his slimy fin; it was no way for a Koi to act.

While we were on the bus uur Shanghainese academic ally asked us for an American name. The class gave him one. Throughout the trip “Sean” and I talked about the commercialization of Shanghai and the problems he has with the city. He is real proud of his hometown and cultural history. So it bothered me that he seemed to have this pressure on him to take on what he feels is a western and more accessible name. His name, Sheng He, is really not difficult to say and has meaning. So in attempt to make a kind gesture, I told him I needed a Chinese name. We came up with Mao Chún, Mao meaning hairy and Chen meaning Honest. I came up with the hairy part in a self mocking manner and he came up with the honest part. Who said capitalist and communist couldn’t work together.

A lot of other things happened too. Then something happened after that. Finally things stopped happening then I fell asleep. Most likely you will read about it in the other blogs a few times or I will just talk about it later. I’m really tired from a night out without any guides. Lots of Shanghainese people laughed at us and started at us. It was fun though.

Thanks for reading the letters I placed on the page.

peace

ANTHONY SIXTO writes: What was once a movement of art and performance confined to the city blocks of Bronx, New York during the 1970s, has turned into a global phenomenon. During the 90s, Hip Hop culture was still denied as a legitimate form of artistic expression. It was socially confined and stereotyped. It was even attacked with sweeping attempts of censorship, not only by record labels, but the government as well.

After awhile, like most things, its money making potential was recognized when the influence and power of the culture could no longer be denied. If you can’t beat them, control them right? So the culture embraced the corporate world and the rebellious subculture of expression took off from the inner-city blocks and swept the globe.

So here it is, sprawled along walls about a block long in what is considered one of the creative clusters of Shanghai, China. On the other side of the world, an art form is carried on masterfully. Even today graffiti artists in America face unusually harsh legal ramifications for their art, yet it still keeps pushing along despite all the resistance. So much so that it literally can be found all over the globe. Not bad for an art form that was created by a group of city kids growing up in the post-hippie era.

It is really a shame none of the galleries that involved fresh new artists never mentioned this bold display that was right down the street. The wall looked like it was commissioned, the artwork was to elaborate, organized and abundant for artists to have done it while peeking over their shoulder. It was just difficult to find any trace of how the pieces came to be.

Of all the westernization that takes place in Shanghai, this was the most intriguing. Hip Hop culture in its essence is a counter culture. The fact that it most likely reached China through the same avenue as Starbucks and KFC makes for an interesting juxtaposition.

Shanghai is a complex place that is going through some controversial transformations. It is the complexity and its collision course with western culture that make it an ideal place to study the effects of cultural conflict and harmony. It is through this scope that the human experience can truly be magnified and understood. From there, there is potential to expand the understanding of what defines the universal human experience. It results in a great deal of friction, friction leads to fire, but without fire there is no light. The goal, easier said than done and harder to understand, is harnessing that light. This seems to be a reoccurring issue through out each layer of Shanghai’s social matrix.

Now if you will excuse me, there is a heated toilet seat awaiting my butt cheeks.

peace

ANTHONY SIXTO writes: Day eight was a bit slower. We woke up at the ridiculous hour of 5am. Then we stared at old people exercising in the park. Well, most of the class participated in the exercising, so really I just stared at old people exercising. It may sound odd, maybe even a little creepy, but it is actually quite a sight to see the park filled with people enjoying the open air. Chicago parks are usually filled with junkies exercising.

During the day we visited Tongji University. Their new media lab is in a room that is shaped like a boxing glove. In other words, their projects punch all other universities in the face (That’s the spirit I like to see). They had some great touch screen installations. It is interesting to see how New Media seems to be one of those cultural bridges where ideas seem to align in a natural way no matter where they are from. Technology develops so quickly, artists have such a rich medium to express themselves within and new opportunities are constantly opening up. New Media installations are great in that they allow the viewer and the creator to bond through this feeling of mutual play. Both are entering unfamiliar territory and together they discover what works and what doesn’t.

A few classmates and I got to sit down with Lothar and Davide. They are two great minds and have names that sound like they should be written in a scroll some wear. We asked them some more in depth questions about the cultural conditions of China as communist state and how it relates to similar patterns found in the United States. What was particularly valuable about the discussion was not in their direct answers, but it was in their magnifying of the aspects they felt were worth examining. Instead of giving “an answer”, they explained just how complex Shanghai can be and the factors to consider when trying to comprehend what exactly going on in the city today.

The discussion wasn’t very long but was very valuable. It is difficult to summarize it here, so instead I will pass on a particularly valuable rule: If someone tells you they know exactly what’s going on in China, they are probably lying. It exists on a constant state of intended uncertainty. There are no black and white answers; however it is that grey area in life that provides the greatest opportunity for valuable and meaningful discussion.

ANTHONY SIXTO writes: A visit back to the street markets was in order. This time around we looked to venture deeper into the markets and really absorb everything. We found an indoor market that was just as remarkable as the outdoor one. Table after table was stacked with fresh produce. Bins full of both dead and live fish piled on top of each other. Green lights highlighted the vegetables and red beams reflected off the slimy surface of fresh cut meat. In the back, alongside a group of men huddled around a card game, were the chicken cages. One on top of the other, were metal cages packed with chickens awaiting their inevitable fate. Behind them was a small room where a chicken can be seen taken just out of view. They would go in flapping, feathers flying everywhere. After a quick squeal, it would come back out lifeless, ready to become food. That relationship with a meal is important. It reminds you what your food is and where it comes from. There is an appreciation that gets lost in the United States when eating food from a can or frozen dinner box. It’s good to be reminded that fresh food means food that has been freshly killed. So when Subway tells you to eat fresh, tell them to jump out a window.

But wait, there is more! Of course it wouldn’t be a day in Shanghai without a dramatic contrast waiting around the corner. This time it came in a completely unexpected end to the day.

Every once and awhile in life you have those moments where everything around you is moving in perfect harmony. You sit there reflecting on that very moment in time, the people surrounding you and the state of the world in all its enchanting chaos. The joy of the world is prevalent in your thoughts just as much as the pain, but they exist in harmony. I always found something particular satisfying about finding comfort amongst all the pandemonium. You detach yourself from all the emotion and stress making the view so much clearer.

This may be an elaborate description of such a simple moment, but this was what it was to sit on the roof of one of the old British buildings on the Bund. Having my feet up with a drink in my hand, existing in perfect rhythm with a group of people who were complete strangers a week ago; a week before that most of us didn’t even know each other existed. It was the class and I kicking back with the Pudong skyline at our feet. Underneath us freight ships push their way up and down the river as the buildings tower over them with the reflection of their lights dancing in the water. The construction cranes that usually litter the view retreat into the darkness. It’s the buildings time to shine.

However there are two sides to every coin. For every moment that imbedded in your consciousness for the comfort and warmth is conjures; there is a moment sitting on the other end of that scale. It is homeless woman begging for change with her baby in her hand, under the bright lights, surrounded by the abundance of revenue manifesting itself in the movement of the city. There was another beggar standing behind a crowd of Westerners at a food stand in the mall. They all ignore her as they throw their money over the counter of a French pastry shop. I can’t help but think back to the stories of imperialism of old Shanghai. These moments stand out even more since the sight of a beggar is much rarer than in Chicago. Many claim that some of the beggars are probably richer than people giving the money. Just another confusing web of reality entangled with a mirage.

It’s all part of the city that I will continue to appreciate for all its perfections and imperfections.

I type this at the end of a pretty wild day, no better way to do so to the sounds of Pete Rock and CL Smooth’s classic, TROY.

peace

ANTHONY SIXTO writes: Lauren is performing in a sleek jazz club in downtown Shanghai, her hands dancing across piano keys as her voice echoes through the venue.

John was cracking jokes about sustainability with architects from Switzerland. The grin on his face is just a hint at the madness that that waits around the corner.

Alec is puffing on Cuban cigars in the corner booth to the sounds of beautiful jazz. You would’ve never guess he was hanging out a cab window on the way there.

Diana is networking and working the room like a professional. She is glowing for the rest of the night.

Lori didn’t get lost in the Pudong mall and was able to kick back and relax with our new Shanghai friends.

Elena is tiny, but still putting an annoying hustler in their place and chasing them off.

Liz is taking pictures like her camera is a machine gun.

Natasha has plenty of stories to tell from her adventures to cities all over Asia.

The professors lean against the balcony enjoying the show, their time to relax well deserved.

Julie is dancing under the towering behemoth of concrete and metal that forms a bridge. Abruptly stopping to laugh at herself.

Sarah is grinning from ear to ear again, for no immediately recognizable reason.

Heather set up a memorable exchange of home cooking with our Tongji University counterparts.

Rene is getting excited because she just found out Kaitlin is a Star Wars fan. She quickly moves onto other topics that result in a burst of enthusiasm.

Kaitlin cleaned up at the poker table and got seven nicknames in less than an hour. She responds with no hesitations to Gaga, Money Bags, Tough Cookie and Carlton.

Daniella is jumping around like a Mexican jumping bean and asking about key chains.

Sheng is drunk off of one beer. He spends his time trying to perform the newly learned drunk dance.

Leo and La La are cracking jokes as they devise their schemes for the emperor game.

The grumpy bus driver got a goofy smile on his face when we thanked him for his time as we exited his bus for the last time.

Lynn’s face is beaming with a smile, waving goodbye with two hands.

Morry is crying, covering her face as the bus pulls away.

Anthony is looking at his class as they take their seat on the plane, wishing it didn’t have to end but looking forward to the new beginnings that await all of us.

Goodbye Shanghai, I will be right back.

peace