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798 798 and the CReatIVe CLUSteR COnUndRUM 201410 67


10 Editorial 70 CONFLICT & TENSIONS 10 70
Creative Cluster Development Frances ARNOLD+ Neville MARS & Daan ROGGEVEEN + Vivian SONG (Shanghai) +++

in the Implement of the 18th


National Congress of CPC
76 CRITICAL CHANGE [] 76
Frances ARNOLD+ Neville MARS & Daan ROGGEVEEN + Vivian SONG (Shanghai)

and New Ubanization


+++

14
KANG Xiaoming [Chief Editor of Urban China]
84 TOP-DOWN VS BOTTOM-UP 84
14 City Briefing Frances ARNOLD+ Neville MARS & Daan ROGGEVEEN + Vivian SONG (Shanghai) 20 +++




20 Urban Studies
92 LEGACY 92
SHOW, DREAM AND Frances ARNOLD+ Neville MARS & Daan ROGGEVEEN + Vivian SONG (Shanghai) +[]+ +++

SITE THREE SPACE TYPES


OF MOBILE INTERNET ERA
102 CULTURAL CREATIVE CLUSTERS 26
102
IN MAINLAND CHINA M
LUO Ke + LI Juan[UCRC] (Beijing + Shanghai)
+[]


Interview with hua jian, director for
26 Real Estate Review
cultural industry research center of sass
NEW URBANIZATION IN THE CONTEXT HUA Jian (Shanghai) 108
30
OF M-SHAPED SOCIETY


DAI Hongkou + Gehry [Chengdao Properties Consultancy] 108 THE STATE ON THE STREET: + +
+[MARS+MORE]

Visible Hands in Creative City-Making


012
in Shanghai
118 013
30 Prologue 32 798
THE FREEDOM TO FAIL
[]
ZHONG Xiaohua + LI Yifei (Shanghai + Wisconsin)

Neville MARS+ Daan ROGGEVEEN [MARS+MORE] (Shanghai)


118 COALture district 34
126
32 798 and the CREATIVE CLUSTER HOW WEST BUNDS INDUSTRIAL PAST + []
IS SHAPING ITS CREATIVE FUTURE
CONUNDRUM

LI Ni [Urban China]
Neville MARS (Shanghai) 50
132 :
QUALITY, QUANTITY & CONTENT
/
126
40 extra special zoning
Michiel HULSHOF & Daan ROGGEVEEN (Amsterdam + Shanghai) LU Jiansong (Shanghai)
52

50 CITIES COMPARED 132 Pollution to Partnership: 142 19


ZHAO Min [Urban China] Layout / XU Tianyu A Spotlight on Chengdus CREATIVE COMMUNITY
798
[]
54
LI Pu (Chengdu)
++
52 THE MIX OF SIX 152 798
ESSENTIALS FOR CREATIVE CLUSTER
142 SIGN Of the times
high art in the outskirts of guangzhou
56 798
COMPARISON +++ +
YUAN Jing [Urban China]
ZHAO Min [Urban China] Layout / XU Tianyu

54 VISITOR SURVEY 798 152 THE STAKEHOLDER ANALYSIS 62 162

GUO Jian + WANG Xinyan + LI Yutong (CAFA) VIABLE AND UNVIABLE OPTIONS for 798
+++

Martin DE JONG (Delft + Shanghai) []

56 798 BEYOND THE MYTH


Frances ARNOLD+ Neville MARS & Daan ROGGEVEEN + Vivian SONG (Shanghai)
162 Street Roaming

62 COMMUNITIES/ CONNECTIONS
WHERE IS YI HONG GARDEN
YUAN Jing [Urban China]
Frances ARNOLD+ Neville MARS & Daan ROGGEVEEN + Vivian SONG (Shanghai)

Guest English text editor for this issue: Frances Arnold


THE FREEDOM TO FAIL
Somewhere in 798, 17 December 2013
7982013.12.17

We are at a moment in time in Chinas cultural establishment when government and grassroots
initiatives are no longer necessarily conflicting...

Indeed, different types of hybrid models have already emerged. Models that aim to approximate the success
and kinds of qualities we find in Beijings 798 Art District. Across China, public-private collaborations are
behind some of the latest urban projects in combination with the largest cultural institutions.
798
We should be skeptical as to whether such formats actually accommodate Chinas vibrant small-

scale cultural entrepreneurialism, let alone build on unique local qualities and conditions. Not every
suburb in China can successfully foster the next 798.

798
There will inevitably be a survival of the fittest scenario, and competition should be promoted.
This is a process of trial-and-error; a process 798 has played out to the fullest possible extent.
798

Many of these new cultural projects are being developed in remote areas
where both density and a cultural market are lacking. In short, they are being
employed to develop something where there is nothing.
It reminds me of the Birch Theory in landscape design. Birch
Trees are used as early adaptors when planting forests. They
grow fast and survive in poor soil. Their roots and leaves
quickly enrich the soil and organic matter, on top of which a
diverse ecology of more demanding plants and trees can grow.

Still, for the moment it seems to work in China, defying the basic

logic behind a culture of congestion. However, 798 emerged

under unique conditions. Though without a culturally-rich soil to
start with, there was culture in the architectural heritage.
030 031

798
Well need to see which ones survive and spawn new urban

life. If any, those are the ones most likely to adhere to some
of the grassroots conditions of 798, revealing the common
universal principles underlying creative industry development.

798
Trial-and-error seems to be a key principle, as does small-scale. The successful projects

weve covered in this issue do not create the same fine-grain urban fabric that we see in
798. The current model is one of government and large private actors, hardly supportive of
the individual creative entrepreneur.
798
Cultural entrepreneurs and artists alike are impressive risk-takers ideal Birches in their own right.
From Ullens and UCCA, right through to individuals like Huang Rui investing in studios and gallery
spaces at 798 with minimum security or even clarity as to the terms of their return on investment.
Not only human scale urban spaces, but clear policies should provide a minimum stability for the
individual creative entrepreneur.
The rules of engagement need to be clear. Government should partake more, not less; not as an
initiator, but as facilitator. Thats not to say, stability is crucial. The turbulent early days of 798 also
bore witness to some of its most creative moments: based on the freedom to fail.

798

MARS MORE
798 and the
creative
cluster
conundrum Was this a likely place for Chinas first creative cluster?

By: Neville MARS Long gone are the days of artists rubbing shoulders with factory workers
Translation: ZHAO Min on their way to work; of red curtains covering up Mao statues; of prudish
censorship of body parts and other trivial sensitivities; and of bulldozers rolling
in at the crack of dawn to level another art village. Long gone are the Wild
Wild West (read East) days of Beijing's tight-knit, unassuming art community.
Well, long gone, at least when observed against the compressed timeframe
of events defining China's fledgling modern art scene (as illustrated on the
pull-out infographic). Ten years ago the arrival of a formidable contemporary
Chinese art market was a new reality, while only ten years earlier the currency
of success in Beijing's underground art scene was still measured in political
032 vigor. Art reflects society, and the speed at which it travels. In perfect 033
synchrony with China's societal transformations, the art scene shed much of its
ideological proclivities. Relinquishing confrontational performances and similar
regime-critical work, collective activism soon gave way for individuals focused
on making the more tangible and aesthetic art demanded by an increasingly
China-hungry international art market.

This inevitable boom and bust cycle of China's young contemporary art
scene played out during the first few years of the new millennium, against
the backdrop of a still serene and industrial-looking factory 798. Grassroots
in nature at first, the subsequent heavy-handed co-opting of the Dashanzi
International Art Festival roughly coincides with the end of this initial phase of
organic emergence; a brief period of transformation that not only positioned
Chinese art firmly on the world stage, but reintroduced a culture of creativity,
self-expression and critical thinking to Chinese society.

In a pressured economy that was and still is largely defined by pragmatism,


the conceptualizing of anything new is dominated by production-orientated
and engineering-driven notions of innovation. As such, artists held a uniquely
independent position during those formative years, and were pivotal in
rekindling a public discourse. From festivals, biennials and triennials, the
exchange largely revolved around the themes of China's new urban age and
concerns with a government geared towards city building and society building
at hyper speed. As Phil Tinari recounts, "The narrative was there, right from
the beginning." This urban debate was relevant and urgent, not in a small
measure because 798 was built on highly unstable, legislative soil, not suitable
for long-term investments. This was exacerbated by the constant threat of
concrete plans to rebuild the 798 area as a technology hub modeled after
Zhongguancun, or what is often referred to as China's Silicon Valley; as well as
Beijing's rapid encroachment, pushed along by a forceful real-estate bubble.
Architect, Principal of MARS
Architects, Director of the Fast-forward to the 798 of today, and its three million visitors annually,
Dynamic City Foundatio, combined with a yearly rental turnover of 100 million RMB implies a certain
Author of 'The Chinese Dream' level of stability for the now-established art zone's future. The threats the area Aerial picture, Beijing, 2001
(010 Publishers, 2008) faces are no longer so acute and immutable in nature the plans for a second 2001
798
Silicon Valley have since been shelved nonetheless, uncertainty remains.
Without any clear new directive for the area's future, many leases have been
cut back to a year-by-year basis. Meanwhile, the growing appeal of the area
has triggered several new concerns. Inspired by its rapid development, more


abstract objectives such as tripling the floor area ratio have now been
floated. Equally dubious, such a densification would inevitably seek to exploit
the vast commercial growth the area has seen over the past decade.

The pervasive onslaught of commercial activity not unlike the harsh


commercialization of Beijing's historic center has become a major eyesore,
eroding the area's core qualities and hampering its overall functionality.
Continuation of uncoordinated block-by-block upgrades, even with the noblest
of intentions and beautiful architecture, can nonetheless further undermine
the quality of the area. In short, 798 is suffering from its own success,
a contradiction that makes planning any alternative future all the more ; ; :
challenging.
;

Today, creative zones and creative industries are prominently featured


in national policy guidelines. Optimistically, the zone's management now
embraces and endorses the notion that the planning of 798 is crucial in
safeguarding the area's core values and giving better coherence to its ongoing

development. But what kind of development will follow? The 798 area has
matured into the undisputed poster child of China's contemporary art scene
and its success has oozed out far beyond its core area. Its convoluted origins
firmly rooted in international exchange and investment, and with several
galleries operating at an international level, 798 has become the mainstay of
Chinese contemporary art in the world. This bedrock of high art, in turn, has 798
spawned a rich ecology of creative industries-related programming not to
mention many, many coffee shops. The full cycle of gentrification of China's
first organically-evolved creative cluster is complete.

Seeding the Creative City


When it comes to planning China's new creative clusters, what insights can
be gleaned from those early, halcyon heydays of 798? On a superficial level,

034 the answer to this question is simple: not much. Ever since 2006, when the 035
creative industries debate really took hold in China, national-level ambitions
have steadily trickled down to local governments. Many diverse and highly-

specialized creative zones have since been built across the country. From
film and TV clusters, for example, to R&D centers, to marketing and design

incubators, even entire Silicon Valleys have cropped up inconspicuously
amidst the factory floors of Shenzhen. However, as the result of distinct
planning by governments and companies, they represent a fundamentally 798
different model from the path of organic evolution followed by 798. It is fair to

wonder: Was 798 not only the first major grassroots creative cluster, but is also
doomed to be the last? And, if it is indeed the last of its kind, would that really
matter? Tencent in Shenzhen comfortably rivals the most innovative companies 798300100
of Northern California. It's an observation that gives rise to the central question
of this magazine: Are there any distinct differences between planned and

unplanned districts, the roles they play and the urban qualities they generate?

To this end, problems relating to an increasingly diffused 798 community may
shed light on a significant distinction. Without a clear community, who gets

to have a say in its future, or even define the content that makes up the area
today? It is too simplistic to suggest that 798 no longer has a local community;
rather, the area has become a platform for many different communities, albeit
casual and unspecified ones. The tacit mission, however, of free expression,
artistic experimentation and critical debate that once unified the area's artistic
798
community has been lost. Although current tenants and management may
share an ambition to promote art specifically quality art as the foundation
of the 798 area, without a distinct community that embodies and defines this
ambition, who will determine what constitutes quality, or even art?

798
Self-organization is powerful in responding to the challenges of plurality. The
district's early settlers arrived with extremely pragmatic objectives: namely 798
to occupy large spaces for low rents. As Beatrice Leanza reminds us: "There ,
was no ideology other than opportunism, no legacy to build on." And yet,
798
the fleeting collective aspirations of those early settlers grew into a powerful
nostalgia that even today continues to attract the crowds, sell art and drive The Chinese Dream
up rents. This lingering impact of the initial community may be the true (010 , 2008)
legacy of 798. At the very least it underscores the role a community can play.
Beyond a mere social seed that proved capable of blossoming into a central 798
hub within the global art network, it was the medium of a prevalent narrative
2006
that still holds sway today. Simply put: community constitutes content! If we
can learn anything from 798's early days, it is that its value was vested in its
personal networks, or what marketing professionals would call 'human capital'.
Acknowledging the role a community can play in nurturing content and 798
building networks raises two fundamental questions when planning China's
798
new creative clusters. First, can we ever plan what is intrinsically unplanned?
And if so, what should creativity entail in China today?


There is much at stake for China in trying to solve the creative cluster

conundrum. At a fundamental level, creativity is deemed as something that we
can nurture, amongst other initiatives, through the planning of artistic hubs.
Following this reasoning, in turn, this can coax an economic shift away from the 798
secondary sector of industrial production towards a tertiary sector of services 798
and innovation. In the dream scenario of creative cluster planning, the sturdy
;
and elegant structures of former factories become affordable lofts and studio
spaces of a new creative community. As this community grows in prominence
and prosperity, the once overlooked and undervalued neighborhood gains a 798
broader appeal, marking the start of a natural process of gentrification.

In this scenario, the ultimate goal is the seeding of the 'creative city', a

conceptual construct inhabited predominantly by the 'creative class' (as


advanced by Charles Landry and Richard Florida respectively). The residents
of such a city form an intricate network of creative thinkers and doers,

supported by progressive and collaboration-prone governance. Within this
construct, actors can address highly complex problems that require integrated,
multi-stakeholder solutions that could range from poverty relief, to congestion;
the environment to the development of China's rival to the iPhone.
798


The resulting cities will be more competitive and have higher economic
outputs. With cultural export as its biggest earner and no less than 10% of its 798
population employed in the creative sector, the US, in this respect, is still the
036 leading example. Referring to the American context, Florida argues that cities 037

adhering to this model foster what he calls 'the three Ts': Talent, Tolerance
and Technology. That is to say, a highly-educated, socially-diverse and
open community, supported by the technological infrastructure needed for
enterprise and culture to flourish. However generic such a strategy may be,
more and more these two concepts of creativity have become the metaphors

behind steadily more sophisticated relationships between government,
business and society. Emerging are new, powerful hybrids that bridge public
and private entities; for-and not-for-profit enterprises; top-down and bottom-up
incentives. These are the hallmarks of a creative city.

In light of the success with which creative clusters have been established over
the last decade in cities across the world, one could argue that their planning
may not, in fact, pose such a conundrum. Seemingly with ease, the so-called
'Bilbao effect' quickly rendered a once struggling industrial backwater into a
Charles LandryRichard Florida
leading global cultural hotspot, mystifying planners and inspiring mayors the
world over. Today, the city of Bilbao has flourished or rather gentrified into
Regarding recent one of Europe's most vibrant cultural destinations.
developments in Abu
iPhone
Dhabi, it seems even Less well-known, however, is the inescapable truth that Bilbao is not simply the
the Guggenheim itself is result of blunt investment in infrastructure, draped around one of the world's
struggling to replicate the most iconic museums. Rather, the Guggenheim was merely a first incentive
Bilbao effect to formulate a longer-term strategy of community-orientated investments in 10
education, new employment opportunities and other social infrastructure. In a
FloridaT
nutshell: the 'softer' side of city planning. As a result, beyond a stunning tourist
attraction, the museum has served as an icon of the city's new collective
identity; a beacon for a new economic future for the local community.

;
The 'Bilbao effect' has also been pursued and its formula implemented
rather effectively, in fact by cities across China. In this volume, we examine ;

the impact of Shanghai's recent West Bund development (p.118), as well as


the civic influence of Guangdong's Times Museum (p.142). That said, putting
this formula into practice didn't come about without first stripping it down to

its bare bones. As is so often the case in China's urban development, when
the abstract ambitions of the central government in this case the desire to
stimulate a knowledge economy find tangible and practical business models
to support their instigation, things can move very fast indeed, as outlined in
Xiaohua Zhong and Yifei Li's analysis of the Bridge 8 in Shanghai (p.108).

The combination of central economic planning and market-driven flash


urbanization has undoubtedly accelerated the integration of creative cluster
concepts in China's planning culture. Over the last eight years, large swaths
of purple rectangles have peppered up urban master plans of bustling

megacities and desolate towns alike. Denoting areas earmarked for future
creative industries, typically they're lavishly sprinkled around the edges of
new developments. Exploiting the term's inherent ambiguity that stems
from the seemingly casual merger of 'creativity' and 'industry' this modern

urban program has been applied as a perfect placeholder to any area of
an uncertain future. In such master plans purple seems to imply that at any
given time, either of these arguably disparate activities would suffice for said
suburban development.

8
Capturing the attention of developers and city officials alike is creative clusters'
potential for branding cities. Big museums at the center of large urban
regeneration projects developed in close public-private partnerships have
elevated the profile of some truly remote projects (think Guangzhou's Times

Museum, p.54). However beautiful and impressive these developments may
be, as a model of creative cluster planning they introduce a final, quintessential

distinction from the organic process represented by 798. Quite aside from
the absence of a core community and its inherent potential to grow social ,
networks, drive new ideas and foster public discourse, these new projects

are generating radically different urban spaces. For all of its despised clutter,
tackiness and messiness, 798 still offers a truly unique urban experience.

Indeed, the results of an exclusive series of interviews carried out by students

of CAFA (p. XXX) reveal this urban context to be the main quality that
798
visitors appreciate about 798. The area's plazas and small alleyways form a
comprehensive urban system of an intricacy and diversity that can only be
found in historic neighborhoods able to steadily grow more elaborate over
038 time. In this urban system, the factories and galleries be they high-end or 039
798
low-end are spun together to form a continuous indoor-outdoor art space. If
galleries mark pitstops on visitors' journeys, it is the public space in between,
the wandering from one destination to the next that defines their experience. 798


CITY = MUSEUM

Creativity itself has, since the birth of the 798 Art District, most fortunately
seen an explosive maturation and diversification. Sadly, the same can not be
said about China's urban landscape and how it is planned. Indeed, 798 has
evolved into something akin to an open-air museum which in scale can rival
any of the mega art institutions currently under development in China. Unlike
those large insular projects, however, its public domain offers room for random
encounters and un-orchestrated interactions that typically happen in intricate 798
undefined and unregulated spaces. These are the type of spaces that provide 798
potential for personal expression and counterintuitively provide a sense of

place.
798
However challenging planning them may be, this is precisely the urban
quality that new creative clusters must aim to seed. As Chen Qianqian of the
Department of Urban Planning at Beijing University so eloquently explains,
"The emergence of creative clusters around China's cities will give the
people a chance and a place to explore their individuality." The first strategic

collaboration between the area's management and its tenants is undeniably
a step in the right direction. The project, initiated by one of the art district's
MARS+MORE
earliest residents, artist Huang Rui, has sought strategic input from local and
foreign experts. The project led by architecture offices MARS + MORE
applies a new time-based format for multi-stakeholder collaborations to 8798798
address the social and spatial challenges 798 faces, as introduced in this

magazine. Working with the local community, as well as eight internally
renowned design firms and think-tanks, the results are to be presented in the
798

forthcoming issue of Urban China. Starting with 798, the project is not aiming
for a finite short-term solution, but rather reimagines ways of approaching
creative cluster planning, holistically, together. In the words of one the art
district's involuntary founders, Huang Rui, "Solving 798 is solving creative
industries in China."
EXTRA
Special zone
By: Michiel HULSHOF 'Laws, like sausages, cease to inspire respect in proportion as we know how
+ Daan ROGGEVEEN they are made', goes a famous saying by 19 th century American poet John
Translation: HUANG Jing Godfrey Saxe, albeit one that's often wrongly attributed to Otto von Bismarck.
Photo: WassinkLundgren The making of ideas follows the same logic as that of laws and sausages.
Contrary to the common notion of a sudden bright insight, ideas tend to
grow gradually and improve along a narrow, winding road that's paved with
discussions, frustrations and uncertainties.

Seen in this light, it is difficult to reconstruct how the idea for a Special
Academic and Art Zone emerged, but I like to think it happened on a sunny
morning in 2011 while I was riding my bike to our Shanghai office. Traffic was
chaotic as usual, requiring constant attention, but my mind kept drifting off.
For weeks, one single question had been bothering me. Would Chinese cities
ever become the thriving, mind-blowing, cultural metropolises that do not only
attract businessmen from all over the world, but also draws artists, cultural
entrepreneurs, writers, actors and intellectuals from all continents?

In 2009, architect Daan Roggeveen and I started the Go West Project, a think-
tank tracking the development of megacities in China's hinterland. We travelled
to Wuhan, Chongqing, Shijiazhuang, Guiyang and all those other fast-growing
urban agglomerations with millions of people and impressive skylines that
are comparable to those of London, Hong Kong or So Paolo. While we were
finishing our book, 'How the City Moved to Mr Sun' bearing the results of our
work, we needed to draw conclusions about everything we had seen.

040 As I was cycling, I structured my thoughts. All Chinese cities we had seen 041
seemed prepared for the future: they had thriving new CBDs, shiny modern
airports and gigantic residential districts. And they were all interconnected
with high-speed bullet trains that make the American and European railway
systems seem like children's toys. Judging from infrastructure and physical
appearance, most Chinese megalopolises looked like the bigger, higher and
above all newer brothers and sisters of world cities such as Chicago,
Amsterdam or Buenos Aires.

But when looking at other aspects of urban life they were still lagging behind.
We could hardly label these cities as world cities or even global cities
as per sociologist Saskia Sassen's description. That is, cities that are nodes
in a global network of cities, influencing that network in a financial, political,
scientific and cultural way. Global cities with a cultural influence have a rich mix
of theaters, museums and opera houses that play a key role in the worldwide
urban system.

Seen in this light, the cultural and intellectual influence of Chinese cities seems
relatively small. Even Shanghai, with more than 20 million inhabitants, has
a cultural life that poorly compares to that of New York or London, or even
to a much smaller city like Berlin. You can of course argue, like some of our
Chinese friends and colleagues do, that this is a very 'western' approach
Journalist Michiel Hulshof co- towards creativity. Someone even told us, "the comparison between Shanghai
founded the Go West Project, a and other cities like Berlin is meaningless" since Chinese ideology of arts and
multidisciplinary think-tank that cultural elites is so distant from the European one." Whilst we don't deny the
studies developing megacities. latter, we do contest the first part. Instead of New York and London, one can
He is also partner at Tertium, also read Taipei, Seoul or Tokyo cities that can hardly be called 'western'.
a strategic communications Creativity and intellect are universal human capacities that flourish best in an
bureau based in Amsterdam. environment that allows them to flourish. The American approach towards
creativity is very different from the Chinese not to mention different again
Architect Daan Roggeveen is from that of Europe hence the differences in outcomes between American,
founder at MORE Architecture, Chinese or European cities as cultural nodes. Laws of cultural development are
Shanghai. With Michiel Hulshof, just like economic laws or the force of gravity: universal truths. An environment
he co-founded the Go West that allows creativity to flourish is not only tolerant, but also economically CAFA Art Museum, Beijing, 2013
Project. developed and capable of sustaining mature cultural institutes. 2013

Having studied Chinese cities for a long time, we were sure that change would
come. "It's inevitable that Chinese cities will enter a new phase," Daan said. "At
some moment, their focus will have to shift from physical growth to non-physical
growth. They will put less emphasis on the hardware and more on the software."

Over the past years, we have seen a change. Chinese cities are placing increasing
emphasis on the building of museums, cultural centers and theaters. But these
policies are not always successful. This is not a uniquely Chinese problem. In
many European cities, ambitious officials have ordered the construction of big
theaters that then remain largely empty, simply because no one has thought about
what should take place inside these shiny new buildings.

In a roaring speech for Xiamen University, China's literary bad-boy Han Han
once told his audience why his country could never be a cultural power.
"Leaders, teachers, and students: Hello. Do you know why China can't : +
become a cultural power? Because in most of our speeches, 'leaders' always
19John Godfrey Saxe
come first, and our leaders are illiterate. Moreover, they are scared of culture.
Their job is to censor culture, so they can control it. How can such a country : &
become a cultural power? What do you say, leaders?"

On that sunny morning, riding my bike in Shanghai, I was not looking to lay
2011
blame anywhere. I was searching for a solution; a credible concept that would
allow Chinese officials to loosen the rules of cultural freedoms and make a
thousand flowers bloom. I thought the answer had to lie in a home-grown
Chinese concept that has worked before.

When I arrived at our office, Daan was already there. I poured a cup of coffee,
sat down and told him what I had come up with. "If you think about it, it is quite 2009Daan Roggeveen
incredible what Chinese leadership did in the '80s: change a Communist
planned economy into a capitalist one. All these booming cities that we have

visited are a direct consequence of that decision."

"I'm listening," Daan said.
CBD
042 "Couldn't we use some of the tools that they used to create a market economy 043
to stimulate cultural life? Look at the Special Economic Zone! It was created

when the Chinese leadership wanted to experiment with economic liberties.


Couldn't they try and do the same with other liberties?"

Daan immediately grasped the idea and improved it in an instant. "A Special
Art Zone!", he exclaimed. "A place where the authorities can experiment with S a sk i a
intellectual and artistic liberties! Sassen


Later that afternoon, a Shanghainese journalist came to interview us about our

upcoming book, and we dropped the fresh idea of Special Academic and Art
Zones to her. The very next day it was there, in print on page 16 of the Global
Times. It was official.


To find out how cultural life in Chinese cities has changed over the past years,
we travelled to Chengdu. A local gallery owner advised us to visit San Sheng
Xian, roughly translated as 'Three Saints Village'. Located in the countryside
to the east of Chengdu, this is where the city's most prominent artists reside. It
turned out to be a pleasant and relaxing village with numerous teahouses and

restaurants scattered among vast fields and ponds.

From a small road, an arrow on a wooden notice board pointed at a path
leading to 'The Artist Village'. If not for the sign, the thought that this could be a

Chinese artist village would never have crossed our minds. Before us, a dozen
modern villas surrounded an immaculate central lawn, whilst parked alongside,
Mercedes and Audis hinted at the inhabitants' prosperity. As we were strolling Te r t i u m
around between the villas, we saw a man in his forties with close-cropped hair,
Daan

big eyes and a friendly face, dressed in thick winter pyjamas and blue slippers.
G o We st
From inside his front garden, he pointed a remote control at the automatic gate,
first to let in his dog, and then us. He introduced himself as Luo Fahui. Project

We followed him through a large garage to his studio, a high-ceilinged space

overlooked by two glazed statues of boys in underwear, their chests pierced
by arrows. Dozens of monochrome paintings filled the room, displaying an MORE
abundance of faceless, naked bodies. When we told him that we were both

from the Netherlands, he gave us the name of an art gallery in Amsterdam that
sold his work. As a Chinese artist, he had obviously reached the pinnacle of

success. He had just returned from San Francisco where his solo exhibition


was a smash hit. "One visitor was so touched by one of my paintings that
she started to cry," Luo recalled. On a table in his studio lay his sources of
inspiration for a new series of paintings: an American edition of Penthouse
magazine, the booklet 'Early Erotic Pictures' by Taschen Publishers, and
photographs of a Chinese tour group.

We spent the whole afternoon drinking tea and talking. Luo's life story showed
us how after years of neglect, Chinese cities have suddenly started to deploy
their artists to attain the coveted image of a creative and innovative city.
Luo grew up in Chongqing during the Cultural Revolution at a time when art
only served politics. He learnt to draw with charcoal on walls. "Propaganda Daan
pictures, of course, we did not dare to make anything else." When Chinese 80
universities reopened in 1979, art education had to start practically from
scratch. Seventeen-year old Luo enrolled at the Sichuan Academy for Fine
Daan

Arts in Chongqing. He remembered how his university bought an international
encyclopaedia of art history, which it exhibited as a relic in a glass showcase ?
in the library. "Every morning a security officer would open the case and turn
another page of the encyclopaedia."

As the planned economy slowly gave way to a guided market economy, Daan

homogenous communist art mixed with outside influences. American rock


music found its way on to university campuses, and students traded grey Mao
uniforms for the jeans, dresses and sunglasses in vogue in Hong Kong and
Taiwan. Young intellectuals eagerly immersed themselves in western literature,
philosophy and art through books and magazines. In particular, surrealism
and pop art gained in popularity. The new ideas spread from Hong Kong, first 16
to south China, and then to the rest of the country.

The newly flourishing art kept pace with the growing economic prosperity all
the way up to the end of the eighties when a large section of young Chinese
intelligentsia became convinced that reforms would also lead to change.
044 They were not successful quite the opposite. As a result, Chinese artists 045

collectively drew back from urban life. Sipping tea in his Chengdu villa, Luo
did not want to elaborate on this period. He explained simply that he "had
to leave Chengdu for a bit." He went to Shenzhen and later to Beijing, where
he witnessed artists being harassed. "They arrested them and sent them to
building sites to work in construction."

Two years after his forced departure, Luo returned to Chengdu. He started
a job as a university lecturer and continued to paint his own work. As his art
was not considered politically dangerous, he received invitations to various

exhibitions. In 1996 he displayed his paintings in the first Shanghai Art Biennale.
Such official exhibitions of modern art were rare in China. In 1999, art historian
Francesca dal Lago wrote that 'for artists, the lack of exposure is suffocating.
Neither persecuted nor openly criticized, China's avant-garde is held back or
simply ignored. And for an artist, that's far worse than public criticism.'

A trend beginning halfway through the '90s would bring change. Diplomats
and businessmen started to buy Chinese art and set up galleries. As dictated
by the laws of supply and demand, prices of Chinese modern art soon started


to climb steeply. The higher the amounts, the more collectors came to have a
look, further increasing demand and resulting in new record prices. In March
2006, an auction of modern Asian art at Sotheby's in New York saw Zhang
Xiaogang's 'Comrade No 120' sell for US$970,000, causing jaws to drop the
world over. It was a substantial amount for a contemporary artist. In October

that year, British collector Charles Saatchi spent US$1.5 million on a second
painting by Zhang, and in November his abstract 'Square of Heavenly Peace'
went for a stunning US$2.3 million. That same month, a panorama of the 'Three
Gorges Dam' by his colleague Liu Xiaodong sold for US$2.7 million. Soon


after, the spectacle spiralled to still dizzier heights with the sale of Yue Minjun's
'Execution', a painting depicting four laughing prisoners awaiting shooting by 197917

an equally exuberant firing squad. Hidden for years, the work appeared at
a London auction in 2007 where an anonymous collector bought it for 4.2

million. The sale definitively demonstrated that Chinese artists had joined
the ranks of their international, highly-paid colleagues. Fittingly, American
magazine Portfolio christened the craze the 'Ka-Ching Dynasty.'
International success also provoked changes within China. With their popularity
now expressed in dollars and euros, local city authorities suddenly started to
appreciate the potential of the artists they had ignored for so many years.

In 2005, Luo Fahui lived and worked in what was then the Blue Roof, a world
away from the villa neighborhood where he resides today. The artists' colony
lay on the other side of Chengdu, under the flight path of the international
airport and consisted of a number of empty shacks and typical blue-roofed

factories. Counting more than 50 artists, it had quickly become the most
important art district in central China. Local city government hardly paid it any
attention. "They weren't interested. They had never heard of us." Art traders
from Europe were now foraging throughout China in search of interesting
1996
artists. They also ended up in Chengdu. In 2005, a curator from the French
city of Montpellier arrived at Blue Roof to invite Luo and four others to the 1999Francesca
Montpellier Biennale, 'the first large scale event outside China exclusively dal Lago

dedicated to contemporary Chinese art.'


When the artists returned from France following the exhibition, they found to
their surprise an official delegation from one of the city districts was expecting
them. The officials invited the artists to enter the awaiting vehicles, and drove 90
them to the countryside east of town. Upon arrival, the delegates revealed their

ambitions. "They told us this was to be the future cultural district of Chengdu,"
recalls Luo. Within just a couple of years, a new museum for modern art was to 20063

arise from the fields, as well as numerous galleries and other cultural facilities. 12097
The officials made Luo and his colleagues an attractive proposal: because 10Charles Saatchi150
they belonged to the 12 most famous artists of Chengdu, they would each
11230
receive a piece of land inside the new area where they were free to build a
studio as they saw fit. "It was a clever way of keeping us in the city," laughs 270
Luo. "Many artists were thinking about moving to Beijing, where it was much
easier to find an appropriate studio at the time."
2007

420
Luo's story is illustrative of the somewhat clumsy attempts of Chinese
authorities to embrace the cultural scene in their cities. Just as many officials Portfolio
everywhere in the world, they are triggered by the concept of the 'creative
046 city', as coined by the American sociologist Richard Florida. In his book 'The 047
Rise of the Creative Class', translated into Chinese in 2003, Florida postulates
that urban regions with high concentrations of internet entrepreneurs, lesbians,
guitarists and graphic designers showed high economic growth. As far as 2005
he was concerned, young, hip creative companies should take possession
of old, abandoned industrial sites and dock areas sooner rather than later

Rise and Fall of Great a suggestion very much in line with Jane Jacobs' famous assertion that 'new
Chinese Cities...? ideas need old buildings'. Previously these ideas had only been current in

obscure squatter and artist subcultures. Florida made them mainstream in a
stroke.
2005

Chinese city governments fully partook in the international mania to present



cities as innovative and creative. After years of threats of closure, Beijing
authorities suddenly revitalised the famous 798 art district. The former arms
factories of East German design, where dozens of artists had lived and

worked for years, underwent a metamorphosis. The authorities had the factory
buildings neatly plastered, roads paved, streetlights set up and signage in

English and Chinese installed. Soon, increasing numbers of tourists from home
and abroad visited the district to look at art and consume lattes and pizza in
12
trendy bars and restaurants. In Shanghai, a city traditionally strongly focused
on the economy, the municipal council decided in favor of the large-scale
transformation of empty factories into 'centers of the creative industry,' with


offices and studios for graphic designers, internet companies, architects and
marketing agencies.

The metropolises of China's interior also got to work. Chongqing changed


the Huangjueping neighborhood around the art academy where Luo Fahui

had studied in the 1980s into an art district. Along a length of more than 500
Richard Florida2003
meters, artists have covered all the buildings in the main street with graffiti.
It is a jarring sight to see: widely associated with subculture, the graffiti

applied here at the instigation of local authorities is of a scale rarely witnessed


anywhere in the world. In Xi'an, the city council bought the factory buildings Jane Jacob ...?
used by artists in Textile Town from a former state enterprise. More than 70
Florida
artists expressed their concerns in the Global Times. They said they hoped the
area would be maintained as 'a simple place for artists to live and work' and
would not become 'as commercial and successful' as 798 in Beijing. 798

798
The construction of Chengdu's Art District in Three Saints Village fits the same

national trend. The policy is not always successful. As the Australian academic
Micheal Keane put it in a lecture in Shanghai, "the government believes it
can construct a creative class in this manner, but in many places you see the
artists leave as soon as the government moves in."


In pursuing cultural status, officials particularly target the 'hardware.' Like
other cities in China's interior, Chengdu is literally casting a formidable cultural
infrastructure in concrete. Besides a new cultural district, the city will have 1980
a new City Museum measuring 70,000 square meters in size, designed by
500
British firm Sutherland Hussey Architects and dedicated to 'natural history,
history, popular art and Chinese shadow play.' Chengdu also has plans to
build the 'largest cultural center in western China,' with a museum for modern
art, a conference center, three theaters, bars, restaurants and shops, designed 70
by star architect Zaha Hadid.

The problem is the programming. Lacking theater companies, orchestras and 798
artists with audiences to match their size, these theaters and museums stand
largely empty.

The top-down planned cultural theme parks that local officials are now Micheal Keane

Ironically, creativity in China
is undermined by the unique designing work just as well as the top-down planned economy in Maoist
tandem conditions of blatant times not very well, that is. In 2011 the Chinese government formulated the
disregard for intellectual ambition to 'boost cultural system reform and cultural industry development'.

property, and expansive If they want to live up to that promise, they badly need a new approach. Not
unlike economic development, cultural development works better from the 7
control over intellectual
expression. bottom-up. The question is how to stimulate intellectual and creative autonomy
and tap into the potential of a highly literate workforce of what soon will be the
Zaha
largest urban society on the planet. Soon, millions of urbanites will want more
Hadid
from life than just jobs and houses.

It might be too much to hope for a sudden nationwide change in academic


048 and cultural freedoms. The concept of localised change might be much 049

more palatable for a leadership that is afraid of Libya-style revolutions or the
unappealing example of a Russian perestroika . 2011


We therefore propose the founding of a Special Academic and Art Zone where
authorities can try out these liberties on a smaller scale. When the Zone becomes

a success, the policy can be rolled out over the rest of the country; just as the
stunning success of the Special Economic Zone in Shenzhen inspired policy
changes that have affected the rest of China, and with that, the world. .

The SAZ would closely follow the setup of the SEZ. It would be a clearly
demarcated area in which the government, instead of introducing new
policies, decides to reduce regulations concerning art production and
critical thinking to attract artists and intellectuals from all over China and the
world. This urban free zone would allow for bottom-up development, where

regulations on publication freedoms and internet accessibility are lowered,
and cheap facilities studios and exhibition space, for example would draw
a mix of artists and curators. The liberal, laissez-faire environment allows them
to express themselves completely be it offline or online. Adjusted custom

regulations allow for international art pieces to be transported into the Zone
easily, where tax holidays make it attractive to buy and sell art from within.
The Zone contains a strong educational component for the training of a new
generation of artists, curators and other art-related professionals.

Viewed in this way, this concept of the Special Academic and Art Zone
bears huge similarities to 798 during its heydays of 2002 to 2004 a free 20022004798798
zone in Beijing where artists, gallery owners, curators, critics and cultural
entrepreneurs could work and experiment within a highly liberal environment,

surrounded by likeminded people.

Will it happen? Daan and I can't be sure. We can only infect others with our
ideas and hope that someone who can make the change will follow them
up. Like sausage making, it will probably be a messy process. But frankly

speaking, if Chinese cities want to continue their development, they do not
have a lot of options other than giving it a try.
050

0
200
400
600
800
1,000
0
3
6
9
12
15
New York New York
London London

:
Amsterdam Amsterdam
Paris Paris

Info: ZHAO Min


Madrid Madrid
Johannesburg Johannesburg

Skyline Top-3 (m)


Vienna Vienna
:

()
Singapore Singapore
Sydney Sydney

2013
2013 Inhabitants (million)
Shijiazhuang Shijiazhuang
Taiyuan Taiyuan
Design: XU Tianyu

Hefei Hefei
Zhengzhou Zhengzhou
Wuhan Wuhan
CITIES COMPARED

Changsha Changsha
Guiyang Guiyang
Xi'an Xi'an
Chengdu Chengdu

Beijing Beijing
Shanghai Shanghai
Shenzhen Shenzhen
Guangzhou Guangzhou
Hong Kong Hong Kong

Under Construction
0
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
0
5
10
15
20
25
30
35
40

New York New York


London London
Amsterdam Amsterdam
Paris Paris
Madrid Madrid
Johannesburg Johannesburg
Vienna Vienna
Singapore Singapore
Sydney Sydney
()

Shijiazhuang Shijiazhuang
Taiyuan Taiyuan
Hefei Hefei
Zhengzhou Zhengzhou
Population Density (thousand per km2)

5002013
Top 500 Universities (Jiaotong list, 2013)
Wuhan Wuhan
Changsha Changsha
Guiyang Guiyang
Xi'an Xi'an
Chengdu Chengdu

Beijing Beijing
Shanghai Shanghai
Shenzhen Shenzhen
Guangzhou Guangzhou
Hong Kong Hong Kong

New York New York


London London
Amsterdam Amsterdam
Paris Paris
Madrid Madrid
Johannesburg Johannesburg
Vienna Vienna
Singapore Singapore
Sydney Sydney

Shijiazhuang Shijiazhuang
Taiyuan Taiyuan

Hefei Hefei
Zhengzhou Zhengzhou
Wuhan Wuhan

Changsha
internal market can be the first step.

Changsha

Guiyang Guiyang
Its difficult to turn every second-tier city
into a tourist destination... Serving the

Xi'an Xi'an
Chengdu Chengdu

Beijing Beijing
Shanghai Shanghai
Shenzhen Shenzhen
Guangzhou Guangzhou
Hong Kong Hong Kong

2013
Museums per one million people

2013 Foreign Tourists (million)


0
50
100
150
200
250
0
20
40
60
80
100
120

New York New York


London London
Border crossing numbers...

Amsterdam Amsterdam
Paris Paris
Madrid Madrid
second-tier cities still have a vast market to serve in the cultural field.

Johannesburg
The ambition is one museum per 200,000 inhabitants. Beijing and

20

Shanghai already comply to this (American) standard. Chinas

Johannesburg
Vienna Vienna
Singapore Singapore
Sydney Sydney

Shijiazhuang Shijiazhuang
Taiyuan Taiyuan
Hefei Hefei
Zhengzhou Zhengzhou
Wuhan Wuhan
Changsha Changsha
Guiyang Guiyang
Xi'an Xi'an
Chengdu Chengdu

Beijing Beijing
Shanghai Shanghai
Shenzhen Shenzhen
Guangzhou Guangzhou
Hong Kong Hong Kong
Nike Stores

Cinemas per one million people

0
20
40
60
80
100
0
100
200
300
400
500
600
700
800

051

THE MIX OF SIX
ESSENTIALS FOR CREATIVE CLUSTER COMPARISON
: : Info: ZHAO Min Design: XU Tianyu


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798
VISITOR SURVEY 798
: + +

Info: GUO Jian + WANG Xinyan + LI Yutong (CAFA)

1% 0% 3%
4%

7%
82% 17% 28% 35%
18%
40%

72.54%

63%

<18
23%
18~25 10 Under 10 RMB
25~35 200 Under 200 RMB Yes
Yes 798 35~50 500 Approx 500 RMB No
No Did you know of 798 before visiting? >50 Age Range Money Spent in 798 500 500+ RMB Likelihood of Buying Artwork Maybe

Public space and art space form the


9% major attractors for visiting the district!
4% 6% 12%
15%
17% 5%
4%

054
7% 055
29% 14%
28%
57% 13% 27%
9%
Average score (amongst
students): 7.5!
7.5
12% 6% 13%
50%
Student Majoring in Art Galleries 5
General Students Workshops 33% 6
20% Arts & Crafts Stores 7
/ Designer/ Artist Once a Week
Amateur Artist 12 Once or Twice per 3 Months Entertainment 8
Other Artistic Worker 13 1~3 Times per Year 798 Public Plaza 798 9
General Visitor Occupation Hardly Ever Frequency of Visiting 798 Preference Atmosphere Score 798 10

Although planners and architects


For many, 798 is an
despise messy street corner stalls
urban experience.
9% and other commercial clutter in the 11%
15% 798 14%
area, its largest group of visitors

25% seems to disagree...
5%
17%
5%

30%

14% 59% 65%

17%
85% 25%

See Exhibition Commercialization


Job Seeking Quality of Exhibition
Shopping 2 2 Hours Lack of Information
Purchasing Artworks Half Day 798 Yes / Always Lost/ Limited Parking
Tourism Purpose of Visit Whole Day Length of Visit Likelihood of Recommending 798 to Friends No Complaint Insufficient Workshops & Activities
798:
BEYOND
THE MYTH
By: Frances ARNOLD "There are a lot of dodgy galleries in 798, but you see that they're not doing
Interviews: Neville MARS good business. It's not like seven or eight years ago when anyone could
+ Daan ROGGEVEEN come here and make money. What happens is that the galleries that don't sell
Research: Xinlin SONG transform their business model to start selling art-related products to get some
Translation: CHE Jieling + money back"
ZHAO Min + YUAN Jing + LI Ni
Photos: WassinkLundgren Abruptly debunking any ideals or ideologies surrounding 798's development is
artist Ma Shuqing. One of the longest-staying artists here, Ma still lives and works
in the same compact space inside 798's renowned 'tunnel' that he first moved
into way back in 2002. Whitewashed walls offset his colorful abstract paintings,
whilst tucked behind is a modest apartment, his bedroom accessed only by
steep, decidedly precarious-looking steps. A jovial man, despite the best efforts of
adorably distracting kittens and an altogether more startling exploding kettle, our
interview with Ma is a pleasant and valuable one

As stories go, that of 798's rising from the ashes, its solidarity and sheer
alternativeness is stirring to say the least. Spanning ideology, villainy and hope,
the legends that continue to swirl around 798 don't just appeal, they inspire.
Commanding attention at every level be it casual day-trippers and culture-
seeking tourists; international media and millionaire collectors even today, and
despite an abundance of shoddiness, 798 retains its charm, albeit one that's far
056 removed from its early days. 057

Boasting world-class institutions think UCCA, Pace Gallery, Continua, et al


these quality offerings are nonetheless outnumbered by a proliferation of distinctly
lesser art establishments. In turn, they stand alongside street sellers, cafs and
low-levels shops, indiscriminate in their flogging of fridge magnets, postcards
and 798-emblazoned key chains to all who enter the still gated community. Their
shared presence is unique neither high-end and exclusive, nor superficial and
crude, the district's distinctive, precarious balance is the result of a similarly singular
development.

798 its 360turnaround from a government-endorsed center of production


for military equipment to a similarly sanctioned hub for art breaks all the rules.
However, the conventions it challenged, the battles it fought and the resolutions
reached through the indisputable creativity and sincere efforts of a handful of
key players nonetheless differ from those of popular discourse: the established
narrative of 798. In anticipating what the future may or should hold for this most
archetypical of creative clusters in China, these myths need debunking, or at least
reasoned.

Something of a jewel in Beijing's, and indeed China's, creative crown, there are
strong ambitions for replicating 798 on a national scale. An economic success
story, it's also a figurehead for the country's so-called 'soft power'. In short,
however misunderstood, 798's impact cannot be underestimated. Meanwhile, of
course, China's much-touted urbanization continues apace. Increasingly, there is a
not just a yearning for, but a demonstrable requirement for better accommodating
Frances Arnold is a Shanghai- of the creative industries art included. With this in mind, 798's history cannot be
based writer, journalist and overlooked.
editor with a particular interest in
architecture and art. To that end, in July 2014 the four of us architects Daan Roggeveen and Neville
Mars; researcher Vivian Song; and journalist Frances Arnold spent an intense
Xinlin Song is an urban researcher week in 798 with the aim of uncovering the facts of the district's founding, and
and producer. debunking the myriad myths that surround.
She studies at Artist Ma Shuqing in his studio in 798
Goldsmiths, University of London. They were stories with which we're all too familiar; perhaps you are too. The 798
798
populist tale unravels inside a grey, industrial factory in the overlooked fringes of a
city better known for its government and law than creativity and vision, peopled by
a lingering, dwindling staff of workers. A drab, colorless place past its prime and
ripe for renewal, the district's legacy seemed set. Due to be razed, it was poised to
become yet another ominously anonymous machine a tech zone were it not for
the arrival of the tale's protagonists and liberators: the artists.

As plotlines go, it's already problematic. Suspending disbelief for a while longer,
though, the narrative continues: following years of social and political outcast, the
artists had finally found their sanctuary. Replacing the factories' former drone with a
veritable creative whirlwind, the artists fast set about white-washing walls, opening
windows and breathing new life into the space.

They arrived in their droves, we're told, making art for themselves, for each other 798
and for everyone else. A creative commune, they'd meet for convivial dinners and : +
drinks that stretched well into the night, punctuated by critical discourse, lively
:
exchange and intellectual conversation. Sounds idyllic, no?
+ + +
Every good story needs a bad guy. Cue property managers, Seven-Star Group. 798 : &
Shrewd middlemen who bridged the unlikely gap between the factories' newfound 2002798
idealistic tenants and their altogether more industrial surroundings, the popular

narrative of 798 presents them as money-grabbing and unrefined, caring only for
profits. Callous and unsympathetic to the artists' humble means, so the legend
goes, they continued to raise rents, devilishly counting their ill-gotten gains behind
closed doors.

The next installment of the 798 legend sees a lesser evil the government
similarly violate the commune's simple ideology of art for art's sake. Eying up the 798
area's potential for attracting tourists to Beijing ahead of what would prove to be 798
an international show stopper the 2008 Olympic Games they forced Seven-
798
Star's reluctant hand. Finally, their tech zone was no longer viable; art was the
group's future. To recoup earnings lost, they raised rents, evicted the district's most 798
'troublesome' artists and adopted an increasingly nondiscriminatory stance in
issuing leases.
798
058 059
Artists being what they are, we're told, didn't give up so easily, and persevered

regardless. By extension, their art, their studios, the entire place thus neatly
encapsulated creativity in the face of repression, resistance and, ultimately, 798Logo
resurgence.

(A rather more cynical ending to the tale sees 798 suffocates underneath myriad
souvenir shops and progressively more lackluster galleries. Fast-forward to present 798360
day and the district becomes reduced to a circus, a tourist attraction and a farce.

Ouch.)
798

Already, the populist narrative, the accepted mythology of the place strays from a
more standardized path of gentrification: that is, after artists move in for ideological
motives and commerce takes over, the community disintegrates. On the contrary:
798
although fragmented, 798's community is still there older, more cynical perhaps
and definitely, definitely richer they're nonetheless in-situ, to some extent, at least.

798
One does not need to dig deep to debunk much of the romance surrounding

798's constructed narrative. Nonetheless, our inquiries were wide-reaching. They
798
included American Philip Tinari, now the director of UCCA and founding editor of
art magazine LEAP. We also spoke to the district's longstanding figurehead and
involuntary leader, Huang Rui. A pioneer of China's contemporary art movement 20147Daan RoggeveenNeville Mars
who needs little introduction, he was instrumental in founding the infamously
Vivian SongFrances Arnold798
thwarted Dashanzi International Art Festival, as well as 798's first gallery that's still
there today, Beijing Tokyo Art Project.

Where Huang Rui led, others followed. They included photographer Xu Yong, an
early settler who was effectively booted out in an all-too public rental spat with

Seven-Star Group in 2012. His contemporary Ma Shuqing stayed: smiling and kind,
when he's not creating bright, abstract paintings and collages from his 798 studio,
he befriends the district's growing army of stray cats. Feeding the two-legged
hordes, meanwhile, is Texan Robert Bernell. Perhaps the ultimate 'Old China Hand',

he first moved to China in 1993, subsequently setting up an office for his now-
defunct website www.chinese-art.com in the factories' once grease-spattered
former Muslim cafeteria. For almost a decade from 2003, operations shifted to that
of book store, and since 2012, the space has served as a caf, sushi restaurant
and most of all, hub.


Finally, we spoke with Beatrice Leanza, director of Beijing Design Week for '13
and '14. A pioneer of the event's close collaboration with the historic Dashilar
district, before that, she was a cornerstone of the city's second 'creative zone',
Caochangdi, working alongside such luminaries as Ai Wei Wei, as well as the late
Frank Uytterhaegen and Hans van Dijk at China Art Archives and Warehouse.
798

That few consensuses were reached despite the trip's span nonetheless pointed to 798
several inescapable truths or rather, debunkings surrounding 798. 2008


Myth#1: Countless artists: Although unequivocally artist-led, the initial influx of
creatives to 798 has been exaggerated. Numbering just a few dozen, they were

nonetheless a potent force.


Myth#2: Struggling artists: Regardless of their former status, a majority of the initial
wave of artists who came to 798 got very rich, very quickly.

Myth#3: High rents = No artists: Although an increase in rents was objectionable to
the district's makers and shapers, that didn't stop artists retaining leases at 798 for
so-called 'secondary spaces.'

Myth#4: Suppressed artists: Since the district's confirmation as dedicated art zone,
Seven-Star Group have not just been selective in their proffering of leases, they've 798
actively sought the advice of Huang Rui in terms of reinvigorating 798.

What follows is a jigsaw of opinions, stances and stories, organized to reflect


cornerstones in the development and progress of 798. Between them, they 798
challenge assumptions, and most of all, set stories straight. Moreover, they mark
Philip Tinari
a starting point from which 798 can begin a new era of progress, growth and
LEAP798
change; all the while it will continue to exercise its established narratives, long-
standing positioning and cultural sway to persuade a diversity of stakeholders to 798
contribute to new creative clusters for China. 2012
060 061

Texan Robert Bernell1993

www.chinese-art.com

2003

2012

Beatrice Leanza20132014

Frank UytterhaegenHans Van Dijk

798

1798

7983=

798

798

798

798

798


Communities/
Connections

Pinpointing the precise nature of 798's founding community is all but


impossible. Be it Huang Rui's DIAF or Robert Bernell's establishing of his
since-closed book store, the first ventures of those early settlers happened
within a concentrated timeframe of just a few critical months, lending the
district a palpable intensity.

Once only loosely-connected, the links that bound 798's first handful of
entrepreneurs and the two dozen or so artists who joined them fast became
firm. United as much by the actuality of their shared experiences as the
legends that continue to surround them, they recall a varied mosaic of stories,
scenarios and impressions. Indeed, much of the passion that pushed the
art zone onto stages public, critical and international is gone, replaced with
bland galleries, a fragmented community and the inevitable souvenir shops.
As a first step towards reigniting 798's energy both now and for the future, one
must first understand the original appeal of the district; the shifting needs and
expectations of those who contributed most to its development; and whether
the historical roles they assumed could be relevant today.

798's complex history brings to light several recurring patterns and themes.
Until only very recently, for example, the factories were mainstays of
production: once of military equipment, and later of art. First envisioned back
062 in 1951, 798 was international right from the get-go: even the site's iconic 063
buildings marked collaboration between the then-fledgling PRC and East
German architects. Originally built on shared ideologies that transcended
borders of proletarianism, that is the factories' modern-day cause is
similarly international: art, and the hosting of worldwide artistic talents.
Considering these parallel histories of productivity and exchange their
controversies, secrecies and failures the Dashanzi factories have served two
functions especially well during their more than 60 years of utilization: building
communities and forging connections.

This was never truer than during the early days of the art district's coming
into being. Beginning in roughly 2001, 798 started to reluctantly shake off
its industrial image, catching the attention of artists. Predominantly Chinese
and headed-up by the likes of Huang Rui and Xu Yong, they started to settle,
transforming newly-vacated office and manufacturing spaces into bright,
light studios. Foundations in place, a network of secondary figures were soon
drawn to the area, selling services and lending skills to contribute to the bigger
culture-making machine that was now quickening apace. They included
22-year-old Philip Tinari, an American student with a keen interest in art and
aptitude for translation; and Robert Bernell, a website-owning Texan with a
penchant for beautiful books. And so, a kind of grassroots ecology developed:
artists attracted related industries that in turn drew in peripheral commerce.

It's a beginning that's been romanticized over the years to the extent that 798
has become as synonymous with solidarity and struggle as it has art. Why has
the district's story been so idealized? How did 798 forge its reputation, and is
it deserved? Even as a nascent art zone, it was hardly unique: already there
was Yuan Ming Yuan and Songzhuang, for example. Just down the road from
798, Caochangdi was shaping its own niche as home to China Art Archives
and Warehouse, and later to Three Shadows Gallery, ShanghART, Chambers
Fine Art and more. Nonetheless, the celebrity, conflict and convenience of 798
quickly turned the district into the figurehead for contemporary Chinese art.
Even today, the district maintains its function as the unofficial hub of a network
of satellite districts, each of which has a role to play in continuing to feed, prop Artist Huang Rui in his office, 798
up and even counter 798's reputation. 798

Much like those other art outposts, and regardless of 798's inextricable
nostalgia, one thing's for sure: art underpinned everything. It enticed precisely
the individuals through the zone's imposing gates who would soon connect,
click and cooperate to become 798's core community. However, to suggest
that this common denominator extended to a shared ideology, code or creed
may be a romance too far. Indeed, for many what set 798 apart from other
art districts in Beijing and beyond was its sheer pragmatism: simply put, its
popularity stemmed from low rents, large spaces and most important of all,
availability.

Significantly impeding the practicality and potential of the place, as far as


those first tenants were concerned the factories had a shelf-life of just three
years. After that time, renters were warned, the entire area was to be razed to
make way for a technology zone, staff housing and related facilities. Of course, 798DIAF
that particular fate was averted: 798 has retained a reputation for arts, albeit
one that is somewhat removed from its early heydays roughly between 2002
798
and 2004.
798
Did a concentration of artists, curators and writers trigger creativity and 798
channel contemporary Chinese art for those few, critical years? Or were those 798
early settlers simply seizing spaces on an individual basis, their proximity

merely incidental? Was there any inclination of the implications such a
clustering could have on artists' lives, friendships and careers?
798
Hindsight reveals the nature of 798's network and community to be useful
1951798
ones that propelled careers, raised statuses and forged relationships. And
regardless of the whos, the whats and the whys of the matter, that was a very
good thing indeed for Chinese contemporary art.

60
Philip Tinari You first came to China on a Fulbright scholarship in 2001 how did you find

24 July / Timezone 8 Beijing's contemporary art scene and what was your initial introduction to 798?
The first exhibition I went to in Beijing was a collection of sculptures by Ai Wei
Wei for the very first SOHO development, so that dates me to a very specific 7982001798
moment! It was always that idea of art in an urban context.

064 065
I got know a curator called Feng Boyi over my first year here and would visit

artists and shows with him. I remember calling him in August 2002 and saying, 22
'I'm not going to intern in a law firm this year, I want to do something in art,
what can I do?' He invited me to meet him and artist Sui Jiangguo the next day
texan
outside his office.
798798
We got in his car and drove what felt like a very long route out to the fringes 798
of the city and of course, it was to 798. The back story there is that Sui was

really the first artist to have a studio here in '98 or '99, he was then the chair
of the sculpture department at CAFA. He had designed a monument to the 798CAAW

anti-Japanese war for Lugou Qiao , the Marco Polo Bridge outside of Beijing. 798
It was a giant statue and he needed a big space to make it. The design had
been approved by the government and he had to execute. That's how he first

came here, to the space where Tang and Continua are now. Then it kind of
snowballed. 798

In summer 2002 interesting things were happening because of Huang Rui who
798
had just come back from Japan and brought with him the interest of this Tokyo
798
gallery. It was basically one of these Gutai galleries right after the war, but the
son of the guy who started it, Tabata Yukihito had been in Beijing and saw the 798
'89 show and had this deep interest in Chinese contemporary art.

798
And that was it. They'd asked Feng Boyi to curate the show, and I was 22
years old, I didn't really have anything to do. I just wanted to learn, so I sort of
attached myself to him, translated the catalog and worked on the editing. That 798
show opened October 12 2002 It was a landmark day for 798, because I 20022004
think 1,000 people showed up at the opening.

How did 798 develop after that first milestone exhibition, and what or who
was the driving force behind its momentum? 724/
I remember bringing Erik Eckholm here, he was the New York Times

correspondent at the time. He got a story published in December 2002, I
think that was the first foreign report on 798. Already then there was the whole 798
subtext of real estate prices rising, of SOHO in Beijing, that whole narrative was
already there... Huang Rui was the leader of the whole thing, the personality of 2001
798. He pointed out all the German designs and talked about how he'd always 798
wanted to work here.
SOHO

After that there was a show the weekend right before SARS was admitted in 798
Beijing and it was supposed to be called 'Reconstruction 798'. They coined
this title but they clashed with the factory people who said you can't say you're
rebuilding 798, it already exists! So they had to go and tape over the number
20028

798 on all the posters! That's partly why it was called the Dashanzi art district
from '03 to '06. The 798 name didn't come back until the government got
involved, reclaimed it and rebranded it, but there was this time when you just
couldn't call it that. It was a very Chinese thing to happen.
798

And what about the community of 798? Who was here back then and what 19981999
were they doing?
By spring of '03 there was a kind of tenants' association that would hold these
meetings where people would come together, sit down and discuss problems

and issues. It was a real mix of artists, people like Robert, a couple of galleries
but not really very many yet, publisher Hong Huang Then you had some
magazines: obviously, the whole lifestyle and fashion media was developing 2002
immensely at the time; before they were in a very primitive spot. That fall,
GUTAI
Beijing Biennale happened it was the only good one, and there was all this
offsite stuff happening here. In fact, in the UCCA space Rong Rong and inri 89

had a show there, and there was a Sino-German show there called 'Left Hand/
Right Hand'. 22

20021012
To what extent did the community drive the creativity of the place? Was there a
sense of solidarity and exchange that somehow influenced content? 7981000
The first interpretive framework you had for the cluster at least in terms of an
art context is the whole history of art villages in China. Go back to Yuan Ming
798
Yuan in the early '90s, the East Village in the mid '90s and all that extreme
performance art, and then of course Songzhuang, a kind of marginalized
artist community on the margins of the city. The fundamental difference with 2002
798 was that this was the first neo-liberal art district; the first to have foreign 12798
066 money from the very beginning, be it Japanese or American interventions; and 067
SOHO798
it was really the first one where people were here not out some shared artistic
ideology, but because the space was nice, the rent was cheap, the more
instrumental reasons that people generally cluster.
798
But at least at the beginning there was a critical mass of artists, and it did
798
still feel like it stood for something, if only for art in the abstract. There was a
squatter, settlement mentality of not wanting to let go. And of course, at that 7980306
time there was a widely-held idea that it would all be torn down pretty quickly. 798


But that didn't happen, of course. In what ways did the neutralizing of that
threat of the area being razed to make way for a tech zone change 798's
dynamic? Were there any concurrent factors at play? 798
The future of 798 didn't really become clear until 2006 which was when the 03
creative industries discourse had permeated government in China to the extent

that you couldn't get rid of it, and also of course there was the Olympics That
whole period of '02 to '05 was bottom-up rather than top-down.


If there was a kind of grassroots artistic thing happening that was driven by

artists for more pure, noncommercial reasons, and of course that collapsed
very quickly. At the same time you had the rise of the Chinese art market. If you /
think about it, in '02, '03 and '04 there wasn't really a market yet, it was much
closer to the '90s than it is to today. There weren't really collectors in China.

Part of it is government co-option; part of it is neo-liberal progression. Now
we measure it in terms of quality how many good galleries are there? So
that's why things in '07 and '08 became so commercial. Part of it becoming 9090
commercial was actually one of the better trends
798

Let's start with when you first came to 798 when was it, what did it look like,
Huang Rui
23 July / At Caf / and what was the potential that you saw?
Huang Ruis home In 2001 I was looking for an art studio. I looked at a few places but they were
no good. It was a cold winter and none of the spaces I was looking at had
a heater. The other factory studios I was looking at had no radiator at all.
So I called Ai Wei Wei and he said 'come with me'. So, me, Ai Wei Wei, Ai's
younger brother and some other artist friends found 798. We were walking
along the central avenue, all hand in hand, smiling like the mafia! We were
extremely happy not only because we'd found studio space, but also because
the factory, the surrounding area was so promising, we believed it was a great
place to create art.
798
We came through number two gate and walked all the way down here. My first 2006798
studio was next to BTAP Beijing Tokyo Art Project. I also lived there for five
20022005
years until 2006. I rented it from the management office, they'd already opened
the space up to everyone: for artists, for workers, all kinds of residents.


They were still running factories back then. In 2001 there were more than
200220032004
10,000 factory employees working and living in this area. At the beginning of
2004 there were only 4,000 workers left. By the end of 2004 when we doing 90
the 798 Art Festival there were only 400 left.

Aside from the practicalities of the place heating, size and rent, for example

was there a specific attraction to cohabiting with other artists? Historically,
what is the appeal of artists living in close proximity? 79820072008
Artists seem to like to stick together their existence can be lonely and alone,
but they're nonetheless powerful as a collective. There are market-related
advantages to clusters too it's easier to be represented as a group, plus
things like accounts and finances are easier to manage when you're more 798
than one. Perhaps there's an element of 'playing it safe' perhaps artists are 723
somehow nave or innocent, always seeking that utopia 2001 /

Was 798 that utopia that you and your fellow artists sought? In a country
and city known for its censorship, did 798 offer more or less freedom than

elsewhere? 798
For a number of years, the admin office was really focusing on being the

owner, the boss of the space but not so much of the content they didn't care

what was happening, they just cared who was in charge.
BTAP2006
So in that way, at the time, it felt as if there was a lot of freedom because of that
068 situation: they didn't care about the content, so it was much easier to be more 069
experimental in terms of art and events, and really push boundaries. That also
extended to local and international projects. 200110,0002004

40002004798400
And of course, that artistic experimentation caught the attention of the global
art market. How did that impact 798 and creativity in China?

People have dispersed people have gone their own way to develop. I just
do my own work; others like Cang Xin caught the big wave of '05 '08. It
was a successful time in the market. Now that wave is over. Many artists lost
their moment, their momentum by simply following the money. For artists, the

market can be an opportunity but it can also potentially be a trap. You can get
the benefit of it, but you also go up and down with it. As an artist, you should
always be learning and challenging rather than going with the market, up and
down. I dislike the market forever!

798798

798

2005~2008


Conflict &
Tensions

It was the artists' arrival in 2001 and 2002 that quietly sparked tensions at 798.
Almost imperceptible at first, it escalated over the years into a crescendo,
becoming increasingly divisive and ever more ugly.

Onsite alone, there were at least three main factions poised to clash. They
were the 10,000 or so factory workers still living and working in the area in
2001; Seven-Star Group, the owner of the factories; and of course, incoming
artists, curators and art-entrepreneurs. Each, it would seem, held their own
vision for the district's immediate and long-term future.

For the remaining workers, the factories represented their livelihood and home.
By this point, almost 60% of the area's original workforce had been laid off. If
798 were to become a district for art and artists, then the workers' fate would
be irrevocably sealed. More to the point, these blue-collar workers cared little
for contemporary art and according to artist Xu Yong, "They saw us as a bunch
of lunatics and weirdoes".

Positioned a step along the hierarchy was Seven-Star Group. Founded in


2001, the group consisted of various factories in the area. It was they who
drew up the leases and contracts for 798's newest arrivals. Of course, they
were more than happy to maximize earnings ahead of the area's repurposing:
070 as early as 1994, the central government had earmarked the joint factories 071
for redevelopment. It was to follow in the footsteps of Zhongguancun , the
'electronics city' positioned outside of 798. By 2000 a masterplan had
already been created for the entire area, and by 2001, a scale model of future
proposals enjoyed pride of place in management's office. In the meantime,
Seven-Star reasoned, why not collect rent on otherwise vacant spaces? To
their mind, 798's fate was not just a done-deal, but one that would earn them
considerable profits. Focused on revenue and inflation, from around 2004 they
started raising tenants' rent.

The third and final participants in a struggle that still continues today are, of
course, the artists. Delighted at 798's potential for making and showcasing,
those who signed contracts lived seemingly in denial of the area's imminent
expiry date: that pending redevelopment into a tech zone. Despite Seven-
Star's straightforwardness in the form of short-term rentals, the artists
ploughed energy, funds and passion into diverting 798's destiny. Inevitably
that occasionally included artworks and exhibitions deemed sensitive
politically, ethically or otherwise by the government's Cultural Office.

Things continued in this vein until a 2006 intervention by Chaoyang district


government. Conscious of the area's popularity and potential, they decreed it
remain an art zone two years before the Beijing Olympics. Nonetheless, 798
continues to balance a precarious ecology that calls for constant negotiation,
with tensions between various factions continually simmering away.

Xu Yong You moved into 798 in 2002 at a point when the former factories seemed fated to
25 July / White Caf be razed and transformed into a tech zone. What was the atmosphere like then?
Were artists reconciled to the fact that their spaces could only have a short life-
span, or was there a determination to challenge 798's outcome?
As soon as we arrived at 798, the management showed us the detailed master
plans for post-2005, and told us we could only rent for three years. They even
showed us the model! Nonetheless, we were still very excited about the space
and jumped in to invest and realize our dreams of a space to make art. Even if
we had to move out after 2005, at least we were part of that moment. That was Photographer Xu Yong in 798 Art District
something we could be proud of. 798

And yet, things didn't continue so smoothly
Conflicts came very quickly. I remember after all the studio renovations in
2003, Huang Rui, me and some others organized a joint opening event called
'798: Reconstruction'. The local factory workers had some strong opinions:
there were still factories operating at the time, and the workers were hurt by
the exhibition's name. First, that 798 is the factory's name, not the name of
an artist; and second that it sounded like a 'death penalty' for the factory and
so by extension, its workers. So we had to tape over the Chinese characters;
it became an event without a Chinese name. Nonetheless, the success of
the event thrilled us Before that exhibition, Chinese contemporary art was
always semi-underground, it was quite suppressed. The 'Reconstruction' show
brought Chinese contemporary art into public and media realms.

Certainly, that was an almost prophetic moment in terms of 798 outwardly 2001798
projecting its potential. What were the external forces shaping its development, or
were all of its influencing factors playing out inside of the factory compound?
The timing was important: in 2001, China got the right to host the 2008
Olympics, and so the government promised to allow more openness in terms 2001
of media and culture. So the event in 2003 didn't cause concern, neither did ; ;
we need to file our event before its happening although there were some
plain clothes officials attending the opening!

Really, 2002 'til 2004 was the utopian age, idealistic and pure. We were driven 60
by passion, without thought of personal benefits. Most events were funded 798
out of our own pockets, there was no return. At the same time, the conflict with


administration was quietly simmering away. For them, it was unfortunate: they
didn't realize how big 798's arts status was going to get. So we had a conflict
they still wanted so badly to rent it out according to the original plan, but our 2001
appearance spoiled that. They weren't earning much spaces were cheap 798
and they were renting to us. It cannot compare with the original plan which was
1994
to sell the land for a big development. They didn't know what contemporary art
is. They saw us as a bunch of lunatics and weirdoes! 79820002001


What was your relationship with management? We know that there was the
798
072 somewhat fateful co-opting of Huang Rui's second Dashanzi festival in 2004, 073
but were there any instances before that of them trying to 'muscle in' on artists' 2004

activities?
Because the administration didn't know contemporary art and had no taste
for it, they thought we were doing crazy things. For example, in 2003 or 2004
798
we were doing an event with a huge printed photo banner of two men and one
woman, naked. It was what's called a 'water cutting', basically an industrial
way of cutting things. It was hung on a 20-meter high building and all of a 798
sudden, everything exploded: "How can you show these naked people on

our buildings!?" They reported it to the government who sent people to shut it
down. We said, "But this is art"; they said "This is not art!"
2006
In the end we compromised we kept the picture but cut out the nipples and
other private parts. In a way we censored it, but it was so obvious.
798

With the benefit of hindsight, that was probably an amusing episode all round!
When it came to the issue of rising rents, though, matters got rather more 2002798
heated 798 2014725
When it came to rent, it was very hard to reach common ground in a peaceful

way. It seemed quite sensible to the government that as a group we could
negotiate things like prices, even though it was sensitive. But we were never 7982005
able to sit down, the three groups together the artists, Seven-Star and the
government to really discuss it. We tried, but it always got emotional. The
2005
management committee represents the government, and it's their job to
maintain 798's role as an asset in Beijing, but also to make sure it doesn't
get too touristy, too commercial. But Seven-Star Group is all about making
money. Still their clash isn't as big as the one with the artists; they can still work
together

Robert Bernell You've been renting the factories' former Muslim canteen since 2001 and 2003
25 July / Timezone 8 were one of the first foreigners on the scene. Once you opened the book store 798
in 2003, did your activities in propagating art cause friction? What was the
798;
atmosphere like in those early days of 798's emergence as an art zone?
You need to keep in mind that Chinese contemporary art at the time was still
very much underground. Almost every day I was expecting a knock on the ()
door saying we're going to have to close you down. But the cultural office
agents were really nice: they'd come and look at the books and say, 'Look,
women and children, other people might be coming in, take this book and put
it down here, replace it with this instead'.
798
I found out later that the Head of the Cultural Office here was the person who
gave the stamp of approval for the bookstore. He said they were watching 20012008
me really carefully but we didn't cross any of their barriers so they let us keep
2003
going. That was because of Chen Gang of the Chaoyang District government.
He told me that Chen Gang, the district's Party Secretary would come here in
plain clothes regularly by himself and just look around. He'd studied in the US,
and he was the one who followed it, he was the guy who let it happen. It was
20022004
very secret, but if anyone had come to him with a problem he was the guy to
say 'Don't worry: I'm on it, I'm monitoring it carefully'.

798
The artists were a very close knit group because they were also under these
pressures, and to see those familiar faces was one part of it.

2004

20032004

20

074 075

798

2001

2003798 2014725


Critical
Change

From artists' early clashes with factory workers; politically-sensitive exhibitions; to


ongoing strife surrounding rising rent costs, 798's course has rarely been smooth.
Much of the district's friction is a direct result of its precarious relationship with
Beijing's authorities. And yet, for many of those original settlers to the district there
was a definitive tipping point, a moment of critical change that would alter 798's
positioning forever. As an epicenter for contemporary art, inevitably, tensions
continue to simmer; such is the nature of the district's mainstay: art. Nonetheless,
its current situation is far more sanctioned, far more above-board and certainly far
more 'sanitized' than those of its early days. What was the catalyst for its decidedly
legitimate revolution that managed to be both radical and conservative, and what
were its implications? Was the government's intervention into 798 its ultimate savior,
or the beginning of the district's drawn-out downfall?

The consensus of those who were there is that it was sometime around 2004 that
798's balance permanently tipped from a settlement that if not ideological was
at least somewhat grassroots in nature, to an altogether more sanctioned, staid
incarnation of its former self.

A seismic shift in 798's standing in the eyes of Beijing's higher-ups came


about in April 2005. With artist Huang Rui at its helm, the second edition of the
Dashanzi International Arts Festival (DIAF) was, unsurprisingly, in the midst of
076 a stand-off with the factories' management. On the eve of the event's opening, 077
the factory finally called for DIAF to be cancelled, citing concerns over crowd
control and fire regulations.

In a move likely viewed as passive-aggressive by factory management, Huang


Rui promptly called a press conference, ostensibly to break the news of DIAF's
cancellation. To everyone's surprise, some 100 media turned up, a result clearly
pointing to some level of support and perhaps even sympathy from within the
government. Whatever the authorities' stance, both 798 management and Huang
Rui soon received a phone call from Chaoyang district government: not only did
they fully understand the factories' concerns over safety and crowd control; in light
of the interest surrounding DIAF they would be stepping in to oversee logistics.

Just like that, in the space of a phone call, 798 transitioned from precarious and
underground to above-board and sanitized.

It was a critical juncture, and one that became increasingly convoluted. Having
seen first-hand the potential of DIAF, and presumably keen to spruce up Beijing's
'soft power' ahead of the 2008 Olympic Games, the government and by extension,
Seven-Star Group wanted in. Tensions rose, angry words were exchanged and
in 2006, Huang Rui learnt that his contract at 798 was not to be renewed. An
especially low point in 798's rollercoaster history, it was also prophetic: for Xu Yong,
another of the district's key players, things got even worse in 2012 when he was
effectively locked out of his studio over a very public rent dispute. The departures
of both artists shook 798. Not only did it effectively shut out two of the district's most
dynamic forces; more symbolically, their removal was arguably an open eschewing
of perhaps some of the only real icons of whatever abstract ideology the district
may have had.

Separated by six years and of both of questionable legality, the evictions damaged
Seven-Star's reputation. In keeping with 798's narrative of solidarity and struggle,
the group was accused of forcing out good people and good art. It's an indictment
that for the most part has stuck, lending credibility to unquantifiable claims that
798's overall quality was better prior to its co-opting. All in all, and according to Robert Bernell in his restaurant Timezone 8
popular refrain, Huang Rui's unceremonious booting-out represented a gloomy

crossroads in the district's complex history.

With the authorities' intervention came cosmetic changes, too. First and most
conspicuous was an enormous sign positioned directly outside of the area's South
gate. Inside the compound, a steady smartening-up of roads and street furniture
saw subtle landscaping details pop up here and there. Finally, in a typically heavy-
handed approach, new road signs began to appear, directing visitors to spots now
called 'Originality Square' (Chuangyi Guangchang ) and the like

It was the start of a long process of gentrification. Where the factories were once
characterized by shirtless workers and muddy roads, its new image was all
moneyed tourists, media buzz and freshly tarmacked roads.

Change transcended everything. It wasn't just camera-toting sightseers who were 798
discovering 798's artistic treasure trove. The district's shift in gears from quasi-
ideological arts commune to Beijing tourist attraction coincided with similarly

irrevocable changes both in Chinese society and global tastes. Not only were
collectors from China beginning to find their way to 798, internationally too, the art 798
market had found itself a new darling: Chinese contemporary art.


In a matter of months, 798 was firmly on the map. Everyone from tourists and
798
taxi drivers, to collectors and curators didn't just know of it, they were visiting
in droves. That this overnight popularity sparked rises in rent was an inevitability
almost as predictable as the artists' subsequent leaving, and yet, the correlation 2004798
between these two seemingly unfortunate outcomes was not what it seemed.

The artists who left 798 during its overnight emergence did not do so in protest
at either mounting costs or gentrification of the area. Rather, they had become
very, very rich. Suddenly very much on the radar, Chinese contemporary art was
commanding prices ten-times more than just a few years prior. 79820054

DIAF
The artists used their new-found wealth to build houses nearby, often incorporating
studios and showrooms as well as more luxurious add-ons. Further debunking DIAF
the myth that they were effectively priced out of the area, many continued their
leases at 798, despite no longer living and working there. In this way, the artists
078 themselves arguably contributed to the diluting of 798's artistic integrity: 079
studios served as ornamental spaces to impress collectors, furthering the 798

myth. By now, the district's narrative for struggle and solidarity had become DIAF100
intertwined with the artists themselves and as such, inherent to the value of this new 798
art from China. Simply put, artists sold a story to collectors, who in turn propagated

the rose-tinted nostalgia of 798 far and wide.
DIAF
There was no going back now: the essence of 798 was permanently,
irretrievably changed.
798

Ma Shuqing At some point after your own arrival to 798 in 2002, many of your fellow artists
26 July / Mas Studio began to move out how did that unfold? Over the 12 years that you've been
here, have you observed any kind of pattern to the area's turnover of tenants? DIAF
I remember at that time [during 798's heyday] I would see artists everywhere to
20082006
the extent that I even got a little bit sick of them because I would always see the
same faces, even though I didn't necessarily know them personally. We were all 798798
competing with each other to make a new creative space; everyone was doing the
same thing separately! But they're all gone today. It was a big change.
2012

798
In terms of secondary industries galleries, specifically what changed there?
How have they changed?
One thing I've noticed since living here is that lots of galleries come here: they
see 798 as a fun place and they want to experiment. But in a year they might
798
not sell anything beyond just enough to cover the rent, so they leave. Every
spring, I see people moving in and starting to renovate, and then moving out at
the end of the year. But a lot of these people become second landlords they 798
keep the space to sublet to someone else. Even if they didn't bring in much
money from the selling of actual art, they still make money on the rent more,
in fact.

Presumably that's something Seven-Star is aware of?
It's complicated. If you ask the property management office they'll tell you the

place is full already, but there are always new people arriving in 798. For me,
I only meet with them once a year to pay the rent! Before, I had a longer term
lease of five years, but since last year we can only get annual contracts.
Robert Bernell As not only one of the first foreigners here, but also one of the first businesses
25 July / Timezone 8 to establish roots at 798, you've been privy to many of the ups and downs, ins
and outs of the district. The general consensus is that things started to shift
798
around '03 or '04 from your somewhat unique perspective are you able to
offer any personal insights into how events played out, what was happening
around that cusp of change? 798
Well, in terms of artists' studios, there were never that many here I would say 12 or
15 maximum. This is the common misconception: people say that it's not the same
as it used to be, that all the artists have moved out. Sun Yuan and Peng Yu and a
few others are still here, not a lot of them. But still, 12 moved out. It wasn't like there 798
was a mass exodus. 798


And when they did move out, many kept their leases. They used it as a kind of
foothold. When a collector would come over from Holland or somewhere they'd 798
be like 'Oh, meet me at my studio in 798'. So it was kind of a warehouse space for
private showings and late night drinking sessions. And I think at that point, very
quickly maybe within a year or 18 months, they were all very wealthy. All the artists
had made a lot of money.

And so that's the other misconception, the other myth that they moved out
because the rent was too high. Not the case! They were number one, very wealthy;
798
and number two, they didn't forfeit their leases. They kept their leases. But it
probably wasn't a good place to work because there were always people knocking 798

at the door. 798


No matter whether artists held on to their leases, they nonetheless moved out.
798
How did that happen exactly? What was the critical moment of change?
Huang Rui's Dashanzi International Art Festival was absolutely a critical juncture
because the night before, Huang Rui called us all together and said here's the 798
deal: they're going to cancel it. They're saying it's because of fire regulations, crowd
control 'They' being the factory. Huang Rui had called a press conference and
about 100 media came which was amazing to everybody that meant there was 2002798

some support in the government. Otherwise it never would have gotten that far. 12 2014726
798
080 Then the factory got really nervous because the media kept saying it's a disused 081

factory that's become a new art district, they'd talk about the nascent beginnings of
798, that the factory was on its way out. The factory people thought 'Wait a minute:
I've got plans for this place, I'm going to tear it down and make a lot of money, I
can't do that if it's an art district'.


So that was their modus operandi: saying to Huang Rui, 'Sorry you can't do it'.
Huang Rui was being investigated by the Public Security Bureau on a regular basis 798
so he got to know these guys, much like the people who came to my bookstore.
You get to know them after a while, be friendly with them. So he kind of mentioned

to the supervisors that they're going to shut it down, he then mentioned it to his
supervisor who took it back to some very high level people in the Chaoyang District
government at the very highest levels there was some support for this. And so
miraculously Huang Rui gets a call and the factory gets a call from the Chaoyang
district government saying 'Don't worry about traffic control, crowd control and

fire control, we'll send all the police, traffic everything, I'll take care of it for you. We
understand your concerns' even though they're trumped up! And that was it:
contemporary art was no longer underground, it was unofficially sanctioned. 798


That was key, the whole dynamic changed at that point. The collectors started
collecting, all the millionaires and billionaires, the auction houses started carrying
contemporary art, the whole thing just went insane artists who were selling for 798
US$100 a canvass started selling for a US$100,000 a canvas. Cang Xin, before he 0304 2014725
sold some of the documentation of his performance art for US$500, he was now

able to sell his entire body of work for US$500,000, and so overnight these guys
became huge! They're buying houses in Wanjing, their wives are buying cars
1215
Did that shift in dynamic change things on a social, day-to-day level? Did this new-

found wealth create a buzz? Would you hear about prices artists were charging for
their work? Presumably gossip was inevitable? 12

No, no one talked about it. They really needed to have that image of an
underground artist working in a bare factory space, fighting against the government
for democracy and freedom around the world because that's what collectors

798
wanted, there was no talk of money.
18
They'd start to develop social cliques that were outside of the art world. Bear in
mind I had a coffee shop that evolved into a restaurant: very few artists came and
the whole reason was that conspicuous consumption was completely off-limits.
You get together and have a beer outdoors, but if you're really going to do some

conspicuous stuff then you go someplace alone or with your other friends, with
the collectors, the museum directors It was very private, you never saw anyone
spending any money.

So you're saying that people were earning tons of money yet still sitting and sipping

on their Tsingdaos outside?
Yeah I mean, who doesn't enjoy that?! But the flipside, if you like the 'candy store
to a child' element, you'd come across this bottle of Lafite 1971 and it's got this
attraction, you've got the money, so you know And you've heard about this three

-star Michelin restaurant in Temple or wherever so you go there, but you don't let
anyone see you 100


That's interesting: obviously this was 'new money', but artists were adopting this
kind of old money attitude

Yeah, the opposite of American nouveau riche where if you've got it you spend it
and you let everybody know, baby! 'Robert, what's the most expensive book you've 798
got in the book store?!' I never had anyone say that to me!


082 083
100

10

50050

1971


Top-Down vs
Bottom-Up

Fundamental to any discussions surrounding the motivations behind 798's


establishment, its notorious conflicts over the years, or, indeed, its future, is
its founding model. Was the district's naissance as nave and ideological as
popular discourse would have us believe? Or was it an altogether savvier
operation? More pertinent a question might be: does it matter? For 798, the
district's positioning and cachet afforded by a uniquely chequered past,
perhaps not. However, if China is to build on 798's indisputable successes
and further replicate this particular model of creative clustering elsewhere then
the issue of whether 798's development was bottom-up or top-down becomes
inescapable.
084 085
Anecdotes surrounding the artists' arrival to 798 have arguably become
elevated to an almost mythical status, like sacrosanct episodes in the annals of
contemporary Chinese art. Of course, it may well be that the beginnings of 798
were worthy of the nostalgia in which they're shrouded today. Think a ragtag,
loose-fit trickle of artists, pooling resources and working together to transform
a handful of factories in the final throes of industry into a sanctuary of creativity.
A grassroots movement, the story continues, of passion, selflessness, and
faith. A commune of complementary talents, some say, and a united, artistic
front against the ominous systems and order of Chaoyang district government
and Seven-Star Group.

Presented in this way, 798's development becomes almost unequivocally


bottom-up. Strip back some of the romance, though, and alternative
possibilities emerge, further complicating our understanding of the district's
remarkable growth. Now, at a point in its history where 798 could go in one of
two directions through-and-through commercial; or a hybrid creative venture
presents an opportunity to learn from its past with an eye to the future.
Specifically, that relates to how to, and indeed whether to, replicate the model
elsewhere.

Was 798's development bottom-up in the truest sense? Perhaps not. After
a seven-year exile in Japan, Huang Rui had returned to China secure in his
career. Very far from the tired clich of a struggling artist, he brought with
him to Beijing prominence and success, as well as the commercial interests
of Tabata Yukihito and BTAP. The next logical step was to find a space for
both his own art, as well as a viable starting point that would allow Chinese
contemporary art to catch up with ongoing global art superstructures. For all of
its tensions and perhaps even because of those increasingly overt conflicts
798 proved the ideal base from which to kick off a new artistic agenda for
China.

798 presented something of a blank canvas. A near-vacant space, at the


beginning at least, it was relatively straightforward for the original artists Beijing Design Week director Beatrice Leanza
Huang Rui, Xu Yong, et al to make their mark. With few necessary

compromises, exchanges or even discussions, it could be said that those early
settlers of 798 simply ploughed ahead until their cause had garnered sufficient
momentum for outsiders to take notice. Suddenly, that bottom-up diagnosis
seems rather less clear-cut.

Easing 798's transition from industrial hub to art district were at least two
sources of foreign funds. Respectively, they were from Japan, in the form
of BTAP; and from the US, thanks to Robert Bernell's bookstore. This was

significant, and is indicative of the fundamental difference between 798 and
nearby artist settlements like Yuan Ming Yuan and Songzhuang: right from the
outset, the ideologies behind creatives' moving to the area weren't only artistic.
Rather, they were also financial, political, and most of all, long-term. Despite
Seven-Star's insistence that the site was soon to be redeveloped into a tech
zone, foreign investment would suggest that there was nothing spontaneous,
nothing freefall about 798's strategy. Whilst certainly opportunistic, its
approach was also very carefully considered.

It was a development of events that if not wholly top-down, nonetheless played


out rather more ambiguously than 798's quasi-mythical reputation would lead
us to believe. Certainly, Huang Rui, Xu Yong et al's rallying of their fellow artists
did ultimately influence changes in policy farther up the hierarchy: a classic
component of bottom-up organization. Still, 798's situation was arguably
more opaque for several key reasons: first, the considerable reputation and
as such, power of its principle instigators; second, that inflow of foreign
investment; and third, the relative autonomy those two factors afforded, at least
798798
at the beginning of the district's artistic rebirth.

Nonetheless, the trajectory was short-lived. Once the government began 798
showing an interest in partaking in 798's success specifically the co-opting
of the second Dashanzi International Art Festival the situation crystallized. In
798798
short, the artists were no longer running the show.

Be it flashing Beijing's cultural card ahead of the 2008 Olympics, or enticing
foreign tourists to the city, agendas altogether higher up fast replaced those
798
086 of the artists. Discussions derailed and quickly, 798's power shifted into the 087
hands of the authorities. That this transfer coincided with unprecedented 798

growth in the international market for Chinese contemporary art only


accelerated change, paving the way for a new era in 798's development.


Take UCCA, for example: whilst privately-funded and as such outside of the
government's remit, the museum nonetheless relies on visitors for a significant
portion of revenue. As such, a tourist-heavy zone (and one poised to reap the 798
benefits of a brand new metro station in 2015) is not just advantageous, to
798
some extent, it shapes their activities. One must ask: had 798 followed a more

grassroots artists' village model, would the likes of UCCA have come? And
without the quality, caliber and professionalism they undeniably bring, how
attractive would the district really be?

798
Beatrice Leanza At the time of 798's coming into being you were established at what was
24 July / Opposite House already the city's second creative cluster, Caochangdi. From our discussions BTAP
over the years, I sense that that distance has afforded you a different
perspective on the area's development. What's your take on the quasi-legends
surrounding 798's founding: was it a case of artists spontaneously rallying
798
together to realize a shared vision, and did that spark a uniquely new era of
creativity? Or were there more complex motivational factors at play?
It's never just the container that shapes the content; there were two forces 798
Quite counterintuitive, coming together. I believe 798 is a completely top-down enterprise. That
798
quite accurate... doesn't mean some kind of evil 'black hand' or mysterious deus ex machina .
Nor does it point to the government or some political party in disguise. But
it's always been a top-down enterprise, even if you believe it was naively 798
envisioned as a place to house an artistic creative community, albeit one
that was then co-opted and completely derailed but that's another story.
No, 798 was top-down because apart from the factory workers, there was no
preexisting community: nothing was there, it was an empty ground. 798BTAP

798
So we're not talking about an organic, productive dialogue between
798
communities that gave rise to something else; rather, it was a vacant space that
someone claimed. It was a different kind of urban phenomenon from a bottom-
up development like Dashilar that factors in an element of unpredictability.
Nothing could ever come in the way of 798 and its development but through 798
those that invested in it, and they came. You know, 798 had no legacy to make
for itself; it had to create an afterlife instead.
798

That rather contradicts the perhaps more populist claims of a bottom-up


movement. Are you suggesting that this narrative of a grassroots artistic 798
community is simply a construct?
Yeah, totally, that's exactly it. Don't get me wrong I'm not demonizing the

intentions of those that came to 798: they did it for the good of their peers.
I'm not discrediting anyone in that sense, but I think it's very different from
saying 798 raised because there was this very far-flung vision from these 798
communities. There was no projection at that level.

You could argue that the situation you're describing is more organic, as
opposed to something that's planned as bottom-up and anticipates an 2008798
ongoing evolution. 798798
I think that the people involved were very aware, not only of where they were

coming from but also where they wanted to go. I mean the fact that this place
was claimed for this purpose, the good deeds of art, that's fine, but I don't 798
think it's so innocent. This was not so nave as artists back in the early '80s
finding refuge in the Yuan Ming Yuan that's grassroots. But 798 was different.
UCCA
For starters, it was 2002. Huang Rui had come back from years spent in Japan
at a point where his career in the arts was pretty self-affirming. He wanted to 2015

create a space for that 798

UCCA
Artists followed him and there was this cluster in what they called the Tong

Dao , this corridor where there is Zhao Bandi's studio now, this corridor that has
all these modular spaces, those were all artists' studios where they'd hold solo
shows. So there were people who wanted to be part of it, but also: what was 798
the alternative?
798

Perhaps you're right: things weren't so spontaneous and altruistic; there was ,? 724

an agenda. But was there also an ideology? ?


That is an ideology. Or at least it is in China. At that time, the situation in China 798
088 was one where perhaps people weren't provided with the tools and means to 089

do what they wanted to do. So they go make them for themselves. Let's not
forget, this came at a point when the era of opportunism loomed large, of Deng
Xiaoping's proclamation of go and make yourself. But the other thing is that 798
this phenomenon, it's not a product of an instantaneous, out-of-the-blue kind :
of context. The context was conducive to it and that started 15 years before, it
started well back into the early '90s.

It's interesting what you say, but at the same time we can't deny that also fresh
in at least some artists' minds were memories of those 'creative clusters' that
798
preceded 798 the artists' villages being bulldozed, sometimes with people
still living and working there. In that sense, didn't 798 at least offer a stability 798
that wasn't available elsewhere?
Yes, but there were other places where they probably could have had that, but 798
they just didn't go for it. It probably would have taken more effort [whereas]
?
798 was an empty compound or quickly becoming that. This is a typical
phenomenon of claiming an unclaimed space, and whatever grew out of it, the 798
moment things started being favorable and were looking favorable for that type 798
of business, the picture changed completely.

That came together with an openness that was ready to circulate these
tangible and intangible resources. So the machine wasn't simply about those 798
who invested in 798; at the same time was a larger internationalization of
what's going on. Artists were traveling more, they were starting to enter the
larger superstructure of art, the system of contemporary art. So at some point
it was no longer even about them or that place itself.

80
You seem to be describing a rather complex convergence of opportunism on
798
the part of the artists, coinciding with fortuitous vacancies of factory spaces
the very fact they opened their doors along with bigger artistic shifts on levels 2002

both national and international. In that sense, your view is a very wide-reaching
one but also one that takes into account all kinds of nuances of context.
I always think that when you talk processes top-down, bottom-up they

involve constituencies, there is always a dialogue going from one side to
another, with the awareness of the fact that you need to put yourself in a
dialogue with that other part. So there is some compromise that you have
to come down to. With 798, nothing like that was in place, so it was not the
product of a conscious, politically-driven or activisitic form of resurgence of

an idea or an ideology that was there, scattered and had to be regrouped. So
what is left is what we have today. ?

Ma Shuqing You've been resident at 798 since 2002 and so experienced its 'heyday' first
26 July / Mas Studio hand. That coincided with unprecedented peaks in the Chinese contemporary

art market to what extent did one drive the other?
From the very beginning, 798 has always attracted foreign mainly western 15
buyers and collectors to search for Chinese art, that is, art that's related to 90
China. I mean literally, with a Chinese face! So my art wasn't necessarily what
they were looking for. So for me, I didn't go through that rapid rise of selling
lots of paintings; for me, it was it was always a flat, peaceful, floating status. It 798
was steady.
798
Emotionally, I didn't go through those ups and downs like others did. And it's

not even like all of them became rich and then moved out, it was more the
mental status that they overnight become 'rich', suddenly 'successful' and 798
therefore invited to show in exhibitions a lot.

When you talk about the market in this way, and specifically your example of
foreigners' ideas of what Chinese art 'should' look like, it seems as if 798 has 798798

been shaped as much from outside as from within


I think one of the things that has helped keep 798 as not a total tourist zone is
the fact that we have these great international institutes here like Pace, Ullens
and Evergreen gallery. I would even go as far to say that they're amongst the
best art institutes in China. They really helped raise the standard, change
the image of art in China from something with a Chinese face you know,
something very clichd. They elevated Chinese contemporary art appreciation:

What could it be? What should it be? Their existence raises the level and
maintains the area's value.


090 091
798

2002798

798
2014726

798

798


Legacy

The 798 of today is far removed from that of those early days of uncertainty
and conflict. Regardless of its founders' intentions, the legacy of the former
factories is questionable: is it still a critical cornerstone of contemporary
Chinese art, or has 798 been reduced to a visitor attraction that lacks
substance and intellect? In what ways have its function and significance
shifted over the years?

At first glance, a process of gentrification has seen the area smarten up its
once industrial image; guidebook-wielding sight-seers replace blue-collar
workers; and trendy cafs boasting global cuisines replace the factories'
former canteens. Change to this extent rarely happens in isolation: China has
also changed. In all sorts of ways, the country's horizons have expanded in
parallel with its art, and with 798: since the district's emergence in 2001, China
has joined the WTO, grappled SARS, won and hosted the Olympic Games,
and organized the biggest ever World Expo. At the same time, its art began
turning heads both at home and abroad to create a new, lucrative market. The
resulting exposure from all of these incidents and events turned a spotlight on
China.

Zooming back on to 798, the area inside that once single block perimeter has
physically changed. Shops, galleries and people now spill outside of a once
092 distinct border, encroaching on to adjacent areas like 791 and broadening the 093
physical definition of what we mean by '798'. It's smarter, too: gone is the mud,
the dust and the potholes, replaced with tidy tarmac, uniform signage and low-
level parking barriers. Unusually for a recently-gentrified urban area in China
(or anywhere), the universal signifiers of money, leisure and lifestyle think
Starbucks, McDonalds and the like are conspicuous by their absence. Their
non-existence is refreshing, lending 798 a small-scale, city feel, without the
typical, day-to-day trappings.

The tenants of 798 have similarly changed beyond recognition. For a short
time it was home to a cluster of artists; today, only a handful live on-site. Those
now living remotely still maintain a presence in the warren of factories, and are
regularly seen showing off their secondary studios to collectors enchanted by
the legends that continue to swarm 798. Shops, restaurants and cafs have
also multiplied, frequented by the smartly-suited staff of Audi and Qihoo 360's
nearby headquarters.

The most instantly noticeable change between the 798 of then and the 798
of now is the visitors, both in terms of quantity and type. Thanks to myriad
travel guides, city magazines and specialist art publications, the former
factories are no longer the preserve of intrepid industry insiders or in-the-
know collectors; everyone, it seems, knows about 798. That includes tourists
from China and abroad, as well as Beijing-based day-trippers pushing
strollers, guiding wheelchairs or walking dogs. Most eye-catching of all are the
young women gathering up the now rather grubby skirts of elaborate rented
wedding dresses, bored-looking grooms in tow. That couples choose 798 as
a backdrop for wedding photographs seems significant. Whether it stems from
pride, curiosity or fashion, their presence feels positive.

All of these changes point to a fundamental shift in 798's spirit, its essence
and function. Once concerned with boldly finding a first space for Chinese
contemporary art a flag-bearer of sorts after that happened 798's
responsibilities changed. Less pressing, it was if the zeal of the place
was extinguished. Whilst 798 may never have been ideological per se, its UCCA Director Philip Tinari
community was nonetheless united for a common cause: survival. Now backed

by strong support across all strata of government, that urgency feels all but
gone. Of course, galleries, institutions and artists continue to face pressures,
be they of rising rents, short-term contracts or shifting markets. Nonetheless,
798's sanctioned status brings with it infinitely more security than those early
settlers faced.

Whilst they no longer gather on street corners for barbecue and beer, for the
most part, 798's core community is still there. Older and less ardent perhaps,
less close-knit and certainly better-off, the network is still loosely in place,
regularly passing through Robert Bernell's Timezone 8 Caf for a coffee
and sandwich. Their presence is diluted now by the countless others who
throng around them in business suits, holiday clothes or uniforms, each with
their own agenda and purpose that's far removed from 798's earlier visions.
Nonetheless, if 798's founding spirit and zeal had to be suppressed and if 798
change had to happen, then this newer pace is far from stagnant. 798


So what does it all mean? Is there anything left of the 798 of old, and if not,
does that matter? On balance, through all the changes of the past 14 years,
has 798 lost more than it has gained? If now is the afterlife of 798's birth, then
what will be the legacy of this current period that so carefully balances high art
and mainstream entertainment? Is that equilibrium poised to tip?

Whatever the future holds for the district, its romanticized back story seems 7987982001
set to stay. Certainly, it serves several important functions. Take artists' savvy,
ulterior motives behind retaining studios at 798 despite now living elsewhere:

it adds value for collectors keen to buy into the fabled history of 21st century
Chinese art, a veneer of controversy, and of authenticity. It's a practice that
touches on the significance of 798, its function and legacy.
798
Although far from devoid of culture, much of China's tumultuous 20 th century
791798798
presented a comparatively arid landscape for creativity. For roughly 30 years
artistic discourse was muted, stunted and suspended as the newly-founded
People's Republic attended to more pressing matters. When the intensity 798
thawed, art duly hurtled forward, more than making up for its enforced hiatus

094 thanks to pioneers like Wang Keping, Mao Lizi and of course, Huang Rui. 095
But perhaps, even by 2001, modern and contemporary Chinese art hadn't 798

yet caught up with itself? And perhaps it still needs stories, figureheads and
ritual to make sense of the flood of creativity post-opening up? 798's timely 798
emergence allowed for a much-needed framework and narrative that lent
798
art from China the grounding it needed to soar. It rooted China's art scene,
presenting collectors and art aficionados alike with a tangible, bricks and 798
mortar space to latch on to and grasp. , 360

A concentration of artists, albeit operating more individually than collectively,


further accelerated the process. Assumed roles within the fledgling community 798798

fast created systems and networks that eased and facilitated China's
manoeuvring onto an international stage that it would go on to take by storm. 798


As a kind of headquarters, showroom or epicenter from which to spread
Chinese contemporary art, 798 served its purpose well. It created a buzz, a 798
momentum and most of all, a community that got artists noticed, paving the
way for not only the dizzy heights reached by the international art market in
the early- to mid-2000s, but also exhibitions like Asia Society and SFMoMA's
798
'Inside Out' and later, 'China Design Now' at London's V&A Museum. Simply
put, 798 put art from China firmly on the map. 798

798
So what now? If 798 has served its founding purposes housing artists,
,
getting them noticed, enchanting the world is it now redundant? Does it have
a useful function beyond entertaining those guidebook-wielding tourists and
providing an 'edgy' backdrop to saccharine wedding photographs? Do critical 798
offerings from UCCA, Pace, Long March et al justify the explosion of unexciting
tat that threatens to swallow 798 whole? Has the place been reduced to
merely a crowd-pleasing faade, and if so, where is the heart of contemporary
Chinese art today? Culture both its production and manifestation is 798
increasingly dispersed in China compared to even a decade ago, and yet 798
seems to have retained its reputation as 'figurehead'.

Arguably, and despite its ardor becoming steadily diluted by those lackluster
art galleries, purveyors of tat, and wedding photographers, 798 still bears a 798798
fundamental significance on Chinese contemporary art. Moreover, the fact
that its credence has become so entwined with popular culture, its myths
and legends may even have contributed to its survival. Let us not forget that
798
for all its hyperbole and currency, contemporary art at its most political and
groundbreaking is still negotiating its footing in China. 798 goes some way to 14798798
paving that path. What's open for discussion is how future incarnations of this ?
most enduring of art districts could learn from and ultimately push a creative
agenda for China.

Ma Shuqing As someone who has witnessed more than a decade of change at 798, do you 798
26 July / Mas Studio think we should we be concerned at the district's increased commercialization? 21
Or, now that art in China has found its footing, at least compared to the status
798
of art and artists back in the early 2000s, does it matter if 798 sacrifices some
of its artistic integrity? Does it still need to be an artistic space?
It will be and should be, because there's no alternative space in China with 2030
such a concentration of artistic production and commercial possibilities. Of
course, you have Songzhuang, you have Hei Qiao but they're mainly studios,

there are not many galleries there. So we need a place to kind of fly the flag, a
center for Chinese art, also because the Chinese art market is going up now 2001
so we do need a space, we do need a place like 798. There's no doubt. The
only problem is, how do we keep and reinforce this image as a center of art?
798

What in your opinion are the biggest threats to 798 in maintaining its position

as 'a center of art'?


One thing that needs to happen is an improvement in the quality of the visitors,
by which I mean those people here doing wedding pictures, buying cheap

stuff and so on. Moreover, how can we stabilize the rent and make artists and
galleries feel more secure? With prices rising year-on-year, it's very difficult for
anyone to plan ahead. Red Town and M50 in Shanghai are slightly different: 798
their rent is really high so they're mostly occupied by design studios. It's not
21
like Beijing.
V&A

But the absolute worst thing of all to happen to 798 would be if these big 798
institutes left, because then it wouldn't do tourism any good either.
096 097
798
But in spite of these changes, threats and possibilities, you'll continue to stay
here?
For artists it's very important that you do your work in a familiar environment. My ?
work is very much related to my space, which of course was built by me. They 798
become one. This kind of familiarity is very important for my artistic creation.

Yes, there are a lot of dodgy galleries in 798, but you see that they're not 798
doing good business. It's not like seven or eight years ago when anyone could
come here and make money. What happens is that the galleries that don't sell
transform their business model to start selling art-related products to get some
money back postcards, souvenirs, t-shirts, that kind of thing.

798
But at least now there are more galleries, and so more diversity. It's positive, 798
and definitely something required by the market.

Philip Tinari To what extent did 798's emergence that short-lived period of community 798
24 July / Timezone 8 and solidarity in the face of imminent expulsion experienced in the early
2000s shape what was being created here? Does the influence of that time
continue?
I guess it influenced the kinds of exhibitions that got made there was always 798
this idea of if not a free for all, then a haven for art and artistic expression 21798 726
inside the city. I don't know that it was specific to the level of particular
aesthetic programs, but on the level of art standing for something beyond art,

then yes, definitely.

But right after that initial period of uncertainty, 798's influence seemed to
change direction. It seemed to become more outward-facing, more about
798
Beijing's residents, tourists and public profile, as opposed to that earlier
introspection that shaped its production and creativity...

That's true: people now come here for an urban experience rather than for art.
CITY = MUSEUM...
I mean look around it's really about somewhere on a pedestrian scale where 798
you can create an orbit for yourself, punctuate that with a coffee, you can bring

a stroller. That's 100% true, and there are not many places in Beijing where
that happens.
And these visitors, all these tour groups, they may not know exactly why Red TownM50
they're here, but the word 'contemporary' probably has something to do with it.
There's something of the future here.

Does that mean 798 still has a bearing on art in China and internationally? Is it 798
still relevant?
You mean what this place means for high art for the art world? Part of it is like
an industry park or incubator, so in addition to these galleries you have quite

a number of related fields art media people have offices here, for example.
More importantly it stays very central it never feels far away, it never feels a
difficult place to ask people to come. That's entirely because of its position
in the city. You could draw a radius around it that would encompass CAFA to
798
the west; and that would encompass Caochangdi which is a different urban
condition but in the end a similar mix. It would encompass Hei Qiao, the whole
Lido area, it would encompass the Upper East Side which is where many of T
the more successful artists choose to live.


So part of its relevance and by extension, legacy, comes from its positioning,
its centrality?
Yes. If you it compare to Shanghai where you have artistic pockets and clusters 21798
dispersed over a wide range of the urban topography, it's kind of remarkable.
724
798 is the beachhead of contemporary art in the city, it's the place that stands
for art, the place that represents art and the urban imaginary. That's why it
continues to exist.


Are you suggesting that 798's contemporary significance is only figurative? Are
the two worlds, the 'urban imaginary' that you mention and the actual industry
of art, now independent of each other? 798
They're irrelevant to each other. These are the kinds of galleries, they don't sell
to walk-in customers; they're in the Basel or Freize system. You look at these
.
five or seven galleries, they're selling off of JPEGS that they email around the

world. It has nothing to do with here. OK, it's nice when people come and they
have a place to go =


098 So in that sense, 798 still has a role to play in the wider ecology of art, its 099

systems?
Yes, it's an urban ecology. You can flick through a city magazine and it will list
the places you can go. There's kind of a middle ground, [a majority of visitors 798?
to 798 are] not consumers of art objects but they're consumers of culture who
would read Time Out and come and see what's going on.

How has the role of UCCA developed in this kind of ecology, this situation?
Since its founding, UCCA has adhered to several core principles. Specifically,
they are: not selling the work that we show; not renting the space out for

exhibitions; and putting a lot of effort into cultivating a very broad public for
everything that we do, both in the city and globally.

The Ullens family has been absurdly generous, and also unwavering in
their faith in what we're all doing here. If we all left there would be nothing, it
798
would fall apart. It's a rented space, there's nothing there. Before, there was
no existing model anywhere in China for somewhere like UCCA, in terms of
policy of setting something up, there was nothing. In positioning it in 798 they
were taking an insane risk because when they took the place and started the
798,
renovation it hadn't really been green-lighted by the government.

Is there a curatorial mission?
It's always been this idea of putting Chinese art in an international context and jpeg
vice-versa. We showcase the range of contemporary creativity throughout

society. As a secondary mission, our public program arm cultivates different
kinds of conservations around related fields film, design, there's an
educational aspect, a cultural exchange aspect. 798

They're all goals that you execute well. In terms of the educational element
in particular, do you see that as something unique to private museums, 798

something that public institutions can't fulfil?


On some level, I almost resist the idea of us as a private museum I mean, of
course we are, we're privately-owned and operated but a so-called public
UCCA
museum in China is actually a party museum. We are privately-owned but
utterly publicly-facing. Because most of our shows comprise works loaned UCCA
from collections other than the Ullens', we're essentially a museum without a
collection, we're a Kunsthalle.

UCCA
A rented space, with no art of your own on display here so all you have is
people and ideas? 798
It's like owning a mental space! And yet, at the same time, being in 798 is
100% essential to the whole thing because if we weren't here no one would
come, we'd have nowhere near the same visitor numbers.

For all this talk of a museum boom in China, so few of them have sustainable
models We're pioneering one set of possibilities that could be relevant to
others in the future and I think there's absolutely a role for that. If you think of
how we interact with the people who come through the door we're not trying to
convey a particular political ideology, nor are we looking at you as a potential
customer, so it's neither governmental nor commercial. In that sense it's
extremely rare. Private museums in China have a huge role to play because UCCA
they're tolerated and at the same time, not actively committed to propagating a
UCCA
state discourse.

You touched on how 798's positioning is crucial to UCCA in terms of visitor
figures. But isn't it a two-edged sword? Arguably, hasn't that popularity

amongst shall we say more casual consumers of culture diluted some of 798's
artistic integrity? 798

It's also worth mentioning that we're getting the subway 500 meters from here
next year. That's going to be a game changer that could increase our visitor
numbers in the region of 50%. People talk about [the fact] that it's overly

commercialized, but the problem is that it's commercialized in such a cheap
way. Even high-end retail would be better than some of stuff we have here UCCA
now, like concept flagship stores like the Balenciaga or Comme Des Garons
stores in SOHO. I'm not anti-commercial; I just don't want to see shitty trinket

shops everywhere.

Some CAFA students did a survey recently and found that for lots of people,
this messy quality is a reason to come here to buy trinkets, cheap coffee 798UCCA
100 But look around there's no Starbucks the rent conditions and leases 101
,798
don't pass muster with any kind of international, big corporate entity. That's
interesting, it's as if there's a trade barrier that keeps out big capital, big 500
business. It's a downfall and a salvation. But at the same time, what you don't 50%
then have are independent retailers thriving inside a space that's created. UCCA
That's a bigger problem.
SOHOComme Des Garons

A way to stem the flood of this cheap commercialization you mention could be
to reintroduce production. But in lieu of a 'leader' figure like Huang Rui, or the
perhaps too financially-motivated Seven-Star Group, who would do that?

I agree: there should be more production here. You need someone to get in
front of the government and say it should me to curate because they don't
have anyone better.


What is the overall legacy of 798? What enduring influence did it have on

Chinese contemporary art?
A few individual exhibitions may have left a footprint but this is not the way
to think about it, I think it's more the idea of a cluster of artists occupying
physical space. Artists and art entities participated critically in the discursive
?
establishment of a public sphere or public context for contemporary art in China.
Basically the bigger meta-transition is from experimental art in the basement, ()
to contemporary art in full view, which is to say from a group of insiders who all
know each other to a cultural sector that's part of a bigger ecology. I think that
798 was really fundamental in that not just in Beijing but also in all of China. It's
798
not necessarily that the artists wanted this for themselves, but they were given
this space and they claimed it and that allowed art to become visible.

798


Cultural
Creative
Clusters in
Mainland
China

Interview: LI Ni Is there any difference between China and other countries in terms of their
102 Photos: Daan ROGGEVEEN development of cultural creative industry? 103

+ LIU Gang Countries and areas of different development levels differ vastly in their
Translation: HUANG Shaoting choice of the types, focal points and policies related to their respective
cultural creative industry. Developed countries have entered into the post-
industrial society. For example, in Britain, the creative industry is defined as
the development of intellectual property through individuals' creativity, skills
and talents. That in turn creates value and employment potential. In London,
for example a 'Creative Apprenticeships Program' fosters creativity in young
people.

As the biggest developing country in the world, China is experiencing deep


economic transformation which requires the strengthening of cultural soft
power. The emphasis on developing China's cultural creative industry is
deeply-connected with the country's economy at large. As was highlighted
at the 18 th National Congress of the Communist Party of China, the cultural
industry should develop to be concentrated, extensive and internationalized.
The No.10 Document of the State Council in 2014 explicitly put forward that the
cultural creative industry and the design service industry should be combined
with related sectors such as manufacturing, digital content, modern agriculture,
tourism and sports. Not only would such a move promote integration with the
wider economy, it would also become a powerful driving force for innovation
economy. In Shanghai, design, be it for cultural or commercial aims, develops
fastest within the cultural creative industries. It is predictable that the promotion
of integration with the wider economy and related industries will become one
of the cornerstones in the future development of Chinese cultural creative
clusters.

Considering China's current cultural and economic situation, what role could
creative clusters play and what are the challenges they present to planners?
The key point is to promote the aggregation of related elements of the creative
Hua Jian is the director industry. That is the most significant condition for development. In a nutshell,
of the Cultural Industry aggregation promotes innovation, while scale forms advantages.
Research Center of
Shanghai Academy of Generally speaking, the cultural creative industry requires four kinds of capital: Huangjueping graffiti street in Chongqing
Social Sciences (SASS) cultural, social, human and policy. They cannot aggregate immediately. No

place can get all these resources in the very beginning. It's challenging for
planners to integrate various resources.

The National Film and Television Industry Experimental Area in Hengdian,


Zhejiang Province is a typical case. Hengdian started with limited resources
just the main investor, Hengdian Group and several filmsets left over from the
production of Xie Jin's 'The Opium War'. At the beginning, Hengdian had only
basic resources such as locations at which to shoot, props, actors, lighting,
and food services. Gradually, they took better control of more essential
elements capital, technology, post production, cinemas and so on. They also

founded the Screen Actors Guild as well as professional training institutions.
International capital now flows into the area, prompting film investment
companies to emerge. Completing the chain, Hengdian now has its own brand
of cinemas. In 2004, Zhejiang Radio, Television and Film Review Center was
founded in Hengdian. Now proudly displaying a brass plate confirming its
status, it was granted film examination and approval authority by the State
Administration of Press, Publication, Radio, Film and Television. Infrastructure
continues to improve, including hotels and an airport. Hengdian shows us how
resources can be gradually accumulated and aggregated to create benefits.

To return to some of the differences between the creative cultural industry in


China and that of elsewhere, what kind of support could local governments
provide? Is it simply a case of showcasing products, or could more be done in
terms of propping up production?
China is learning from developed countries, and has evolved from 'Made in

China' to 'Created in China'. Past imitation and duplication has been replaced
by an emphasis on originality. Areas that respect artists and promote their
originality will go far, fast.


Take the city of Dongyang in Zhejiang province as an example. In recent years,
20
there has emerged there a remarkable arts and crafts cluster. Historically,
the area has enjoyed national renown as 'the homeland of crafts', and 'city of
wood sculpture'. Many master craftsmen have lived and worked there. Human Creative Apprenticeships
resources gives Dongyang a competitive edge. Local government treasure
Programme
104 the originality of the wood sculptures produced there and as such, provide 105
extensive support spanning human resources, funding and technology. Home
to countless artists' studios, Dongyang continues to contribute to top-level arts 21
and crafts in China. Originality is what differentiates the city from elsewhere.
The fostering of wood sculpture and artists also exerts a positive impact on

related industries, including manufacturing and architecture.
201410
Looking ahead, what path do you think cultural industry will take in China,
particularly with regard to where its various elements and key players choose

to settle?

I believe the integrated development of Chinese cultural industry with other
industries will breed a lot of industrial parks with mixed new industrial forms.
They will be characterized by cross-industry collaborations and mixed
business in type of industry, industrial organization and physical planning.

For example, we have recently conducted research into the cultural industry
development planning of Lujiazui finance and trade zone. The investigation
stemmed from observations of other global financial centers such as New


York, London and Tokyo. These cities not only control flows of global financial
resources; they also act as trade centers of global high-end cultural resources,
congregation centers for transnational corporations' headquarters, and
demonstration centers for international cultural consumption. In these cases,
cultural resources, investments and intellectual property rights are capitalized.

In other words, these resources are studied and developed to serve the
cultural industry chain. Manhattan is perhaps the world's best-known financial 1995
center, and at the same time, it is also the densest center of cultural industry
The Maecenas Model internationally.


2004
2013





42

40
106 107

20

Tianjin Art Museum, Tianjin



The State on
the Street
VISIBLE HANDS IN CREATIVE CITY-MAKING IN SHANGHAI

By: ZHONG Xiaohua Historically, cities are strategic sites for the penetration of state authority. They
+ LI Yifei are critical posts for taxation, defense, trade, and economic development. It is
Photos: M50 therefore no surprise that cities bear extensive marks of the state. With the rise
of creative economy, however, there have been extensive discussions about
the clustering of creative industries (Scott, 2000), the formation of a creative
value chain (Pratt, 1997), and changing demographic and employment
structures (Florida, 2002; Markusen, 2006) from the perspectives of industrial
economics or economic geography. From an architectural perspective,
thinking extends to the production of creative urban space in post-industrial
cities; and quantitative measurements of the creative class and the creative
city. In such a context, the state seems to have faded away from the academic
field of vision for the creative industry.

This article seeks to bring the state and institutions back. We utilize first-
hand empirical evidence to comparatively and interpretively examine cases
of creative industrial clusters in Shanghai. We aim to better comprehend the
emergence and growth of the creative economy, thereby gaining a reflexive
understanding of the mechanisms and logics of urban development in China.
We find that on the one hand, creative industrial clusters are shaped and
constrained by the state, while at the same time driving institutional change,
the process of which is filled with conflicts, contentions and compromises.
108 Using the creative economy as an empirical entry point, this article uncovers 109
the relational aspect of the state in urban development. In other words, the
state cannot be simplified as an absolutist force of intervention. Instead, the
state self-adjusts and balances in the spaces of power that consists of multiple
sets of relations, including that between old institutions and new norms, the
state and the social, the local and the supra-local.

Role of the State in Urban Development and Creative Industry


The role of the state in urban development has been the object of inquiry in
many studies; the institutional perspective brings the state and its associated
macro-structures back into urban analysis, contending that the state and local
structures constitute the dominant force in urban development. Castells (1983)
argues that the state regulates capital accumulation in urban development via
controls over transportation, green spaces, recreational facilities and other
collective consumption items. In this sense, the question of urban production
of space becomes simultaneously a question of power. The state comes to
be viewed as a productive force in the reconstitution of urban space. This
explanation has been a powerful one in the case of China, articulating key
moments of institutional change from a planned economy to a market one,
from an industrial to a service-oriented economic structure. Wu (2000) argues
that forces of marketization and globalization are inevitably mediated through
the local power structure. Urban development then materializes through a
set of state interventions in foreign investments, land management, industrial
adjustments and economic restructuring. In this sense, state institutional
change supplies momentum for the corporatization of the state and
commercialization of urban space, which are legitimated through tactical and
technical manipulations of the state (Chen, 2008). In analyses of more specific
ZHONG Xiaohua cases of urban renewal, Ren (2008) and He (2007) both view the development
Department of Sociology, of Xintiandi as a product of globalized urban strategies, state-led gentrification,
Tongji University and the partnership between public power and private capital.

LI Yifei In the case of creative industries, it is yet to be articulated as to what specific


Department of Sociology, roles the state plays in the emergence and growth of the creative economy.
University of Wisconsin- Some research has indicated land rent as a crucial mediating factor for the Workers reading announcements in the former factories of M50, Shanghai
Madison state to support creative sectors (Stolarick & Florida, 2006). Other research M50

highlights state provision of physical infrastructure, such as live-work studios
and small performing art workshops (Markusen, 2006). In such discussions,
the impact of state institutions on the creative economy is largely seen as
indirect, if not negligible (Pratt, 1997). What follows is a reexamining of this
argument through a comparative analysis of three empirical cases.

The Shanghai Stories of Creative Industrial Clusters
Since their inception in the UK in the 1990s, creative industries quickly
ascended agendas of development across the world, thanks to their dual

gains in cultural and economic vitality. In the early 2000s, the notion of creative
industries was introduced to China. The cities of Shanghai and Beijing were
the first to experience this wave of development, and became home to Chinas
first creative industrial clusters, among which are the following three cases.
+
a. Tianzifang: Tactical Campaigns for Institutional Acceptance M50
Tianzifang is located in central Shanghai, covering a land area of 7.2

hectares. The architectural style of the site was formed during periods of
international occupation in the 20 th century when the area was the transition Scott2000Pratt1997
zone between the Chinese old town and international concessions. Originally Florida2002Markusen2006
named Zhichengfang, the area is home to a rich selection of architectural

types, including villas, linong housing, and linong factories. The site is highly

representative of downtown Shanghais physical landscape, reflecting its
changes from a previously agricultural community to an international enclave,
towards a residential linong neighborhood, and finally to a mixed community of
creative economy.

Between the 1930s and 1980s, this area used to be home to dozens of linong
factories in the businesses of food processing and mechanical manufacturing.
Due to industrial restructuring policies and new planning regulations
introduced in the 1990s, a substantial number of factory buildings were

emptied. There were over 600 households in nearby linong housing units, the
members of which were mainly migrant workers, senior local residents and

low-income dwellers. Of interest to the current analysis are urban renewal
policies in place since 1998, when local authorities cleared up street markets

110 and rented otherwise empty factory buildings to artists. Within a short period 111
of time, commercial activities spilled over to nearby residential units to create

a mixed community of housing, cultural activities and services. At the time of


writing, approximately 500 households have rented out their properties either Manual Castells1983
in entirety or partiality to businesses such as art studios, handcraft boutiques,

fashion stores and delis.

In as early as 2003, the district-level government leased the area now known
as Tianzifang to a Taiwanese developer, with details only made public through
a demolition and relocation notice posted throughout the community. Soon,
a bottom-up 'Battle for Tianzifang' began, involving community officials,

transnational entrepreneurs, renowned artists and scholars, as well as 2000


local residents and business owners. In five years, the coalition of actors
successfully made the case for Tianzifang as having unique historical values,

advancing the notion of 'creative industries' for urban development for the
first time. With the influx of renowned artists came an unstoppable stream of
tourists and soaring rents. 2008

20082007
In light of Tianzifangs successful debut, the district-level government

authorized the establishment of Tianzifang Council in 2008, provided funding
for infrastructure, and also adjusted land use and other regulations in favor of
Tianzifangs status quo. This year, Tianzifang was transformed from a modest
community to the only nationally recognized AAA Tourist Attraction featuring
Stolarick &
traditional housing styles. Tianzifang is widely touted as a model case of urban
renewal that preserved architectural diversity and daily livelihoods, as well as Florida2006
introduced fashionable business activities, all at the same time. Markusen2006
Pratt1997
Where Tianzifang is seen as a market-led, socially-participatory, small-

scale creative industrial cluster, state institutions come to be viewed as a
counterforce to such endeavors. In actuality, however, institutions provide
consistent aid to the growth of Tianzifang, either directly or indirectly. During
the initial stage of contention, the coalition against demolition repeatedly
2090
resorted to the National Congress and other state governing bodies to add
pressure to district-level decision-makers. Furthermore, the coalition was able 21
to legitimize their 'battle' by quoting purposes of "increasing financial benefits
to residents," a key mandate of central governments urban renewal policies. 1
The use of institutions was far more than just tactical. Since the establishment
of the Tianzifang Council in 2008, the area went from being a marginalized
7.220
case to taking center stage. The Council was then able to institutionalize
a set of supplementary regulations that challenged provisions in existing
urban renewal policies. Such endeavors created a better balance between
cultural histories, industrial innovation and social inclusiveness, thus signaling
substantial tolerance of the local state.

b. M50: Turnaround of Industrial Facilities 3080


M50 is located at 50 Moganshan Road, and was once home to Shanghai 90
Chunming Textiles. The area formerly comprised a cluster of domestic
600
factories, and therefore has a diverse range of industrial architectural styles
built since the 1930s. It is the most well-preserved cluster of industrial 1998
buildings along Suzhou River. M50 Creative Park covers a land area of 2.35
hectares, with a built-up area of 41,000 m2, consisting of 20 buildings. 500


When Chunming Textiles went bankrupt in 1999, the main issues were those
of idle land and unemployed workers. The company (a member of Shanghai
Textile Group, the owner of M50 Creative Park) attempted to solve both issues 2003
by renting out idle factory space to provide subsistence income to unemployed

workers. Aside from space rented to small-scale garment and printing
businesses, the facility remained half empty for a period of three years. Then, 5

in 2002 the first wave of artist tenants arrived. They began redecorating the
facilities to create viable work spaces: the initial spatial outlook of a creative
industrial park. In 2003, several large creative enterprises relocated to M50

including Camera Media, ShiNE Art, and BizArt, prompting Chunming Textiles
to reposition the facility as a fully-fledged Creative Park.
2008
At this time, M50 was facing similar predicaments as those experienced at

Tianzifang. The district-level government transferred the development rights
AAA
to a Hong Kong-based developer for residential high-rises, while a municipal
planning mandate designated the area as a city park. In the meantime,
the Chunming owners began to sense the potential of M50 as a home for
112 creative industries, anticipating long-term revenues by way of rent, as well as 113

employment opportunities. In this light, the owners effectively found themselves
embroiled in a tug-of-war with the district-level government. During a 2004
Shanghai Textile Group executive meeting, it was confirmed that the M50

facility will be used for fashion and cultural purposes. Company management
sought support from Tongji University professionals, commissioning Professor
2008
Ruan Yisan to create the Conceptual Plan of Conservation and Utilization of
Shanghai Moganshan Road Historical Factory Zone.


M50 preserved a significant number of historically valuable structures. Due

to the important position it once occupied in Shanghais industrial past,
conservation experts recommended it be classed as 'industrial heritage'. Other
experts, drawing evidence from the development of New Yorks SoHo district
suggested a 'creative industries' classification. Driven by the appeal of both 2M50
notions, the district-level government retracted the development right transfer.
M5050
Moreover, municipal authorities revised the original plan of the area in favor
of industrial heritage conservation. In 2005, the first-phase of repurposing 1930
construction was completed. In April of the same year, the area was formally M502.354.120
recognized as one of Shanghais creative clusters, finally obtaining its official

name: M50 Creative Park.

There are substantial overlaps between the history of M50 and that of Tianzifang. 1999M50
In fact, the two groups collaborated on several occasions in blocking real
estate development. Unlike the case of Tianzifang, however, where ownership
2002
structures were complex, stakeholders were multiple and spatial patterns
constrained, M50 presented a different scenario. With a relatively simple
ownership structure (Chunming Textiles is the sole owner) and spacious facilities,
these were factors that greatly contributed to the ease with which the site was re-
2003
developed. Where the emergence of Tianzifang was bestowed with favorable,
not to mention impossible-to-replicate historical contingences, the success of M50

M50 kicked off the redevelopment of a batch of previously industrial facilities. It


also unleashed creative industries in Shanghai, enabling their growth inside old M50
industrial spaces. Furthermore, and based on the case of M50, the Shanghai

municipal government officially recognized and supported the so-called 2.5 Woman operating a loom
industry , legalizing the use of industrial facilities by the creative sector.
c. The Bridge 8: State-Shadowed Creativity 2004
The Bridge 8 is located in central Shanghais Luwan District at 8-10 Middle
Jianguo Road. It covers a land area of 0.7 hectares, with a built-up area

of 12,000 m 2 and consists of eight old industrial buildings dating from the
1950s to the 1980s. The site was originally the manufacturing facilities of
SAIC Motors. With support from municipal and district-level governments, in
2003 Shanghai Huaqing Investment and Hong Kong Lifestyle Holdings jointly
established the Bridge 8 Investment Management, investing a total of 40

million RMB to redevelop the property.
SOHO
In 2003, despite little discussion of the creative industries and services still
being key to Shanghais redevelopment, there was nonetheless a growing

interest in the conservation of historic buildings. Under these circumstances,
SAIC Motors retained ownership of the facility, multiple levels of state 20054
coordinated regulatory support for its development, and investors obtained a M50
20 year lease to plan, market, and operate the facility. In less than two years
since construction began in 2003, the Hong Kong-based investor was able to
M50
rent out the entire space, comprising 80% offices and 20% retail.

Thanks to the devolution of power, the investors had substantial room for M50
maneuver in the Bridge 8. To reciprocate for such leeway, the investors also

allowed the Bridge 8 to bear pervasive shadows of the state. The first phase
of the project was named Shanghai Industrial Consulting Service Park, which M50

became home to organizations such as Shanghai International Industry 2.5


Transfer Consulting Center, Business Promotion Center of Shanghai Industrial
Development Zone and Shanghai Fashion Creativity Center. These nominally
non-governmental organizations are nonetheless closely tied to different
junctures of the state apparatus. In fact, these organizations are instrumental in 38
fulfilling Shanghais trade growth targets, including the citys Closer Economic 88~100.71.2
Partnership Arrangement (CEPA) quota with Hong Kong. With obligations
508082003
came benefits: the Bridge 8 became the preferred venue for hosting

international and high-end cultural festivities such as the French Culture Week,
Australian Tourism Festival and Shanghai Fashion Week, among others. 4000

114 At the time of the Bridge 8s smooth inception, both Tianzifang and M50 115
2003
owners were engaged in 'battles' with the state. It warrants asking, then:
Why such dramatic differences even when all three projects are in the same 8
district-level jurisdiction? Evidence suggests that the district-level government 20
was already convinced by the prospects of the creative economy at the time. 200320052
However, given considerations of development costs and desires of staging
80%
political showcases, the local state had to pick a winner that was free from
both Tianzifang-style grassroots activism, as well as M50-style contentions 20%
over the transfer of development rights. In this way, the Bridge 8s timing was
nothing short of opportune.

Discussions
Although these three cases may have differing spatial conditions, development
agencies and institutional backgrounds; and their comparative analysis
by no means covers the entirety of the creative economy in China, theyre
CEPA
nonetheless illuminating. Together, they bring to light the complexity of the
China story and its logic of urban governance. In its interventions in urban
affairs, the state cannot be simplified as an absolutist force. Instead, the
state self-adjusts and balances in the spaces of power in which it encounters
different actors, social relations and institutional structures. The relativity of the
state manifests itself in at least the following three dimensions with regard to 8M50
creative industries.


First, creative industries facilitate the evolution of state institutions. The growth
M508
of creative industries compels the state to reexamine the differences between
old and new norms of urban renewal. In the context of industrial restructuring,
financial meltdown and changes in land expropriation policies, creative
industries inject new momentum to the urban reproduction of space. The
creative economy not only breaks the deadlock of industrial spatial turnovers,
it also saves a substantial amount of traditional urban space from being

demolished. In the process of creative industrial clustering, the value of time-


honored urban space was re-discovered and re-engineered for artists and
their associates, who continue to consciously conserve urban spatial heritage.

The use of urban space by creative industries contradicts the old urban
renewal norm of 'demolition and construction' in China. Moreover, the success
of creative industries led the state to adjust its policies regarding creative
spaces and subsequently nurture a new norm of urban renewal that values
spatial heritage, thus turning previously unacceptable practice into the new

norm.

Second, creative industries provide instruments of contention for the public.
In both the cases of Tianzifang and M50, artists, residents and factory owners
stood in opposition to the coalition of the local state and development capital.

The two sides of contention were asymmetrical in terms of both political and
economic resources. As a result, the social contenders most effective strategy
was to build a strong rhetoric for their spaces. Thus, the prosperity of creative
industries, the conservation of urban heritage, and the pursuit of a harmonious

society all became effective instruments of debate. Through interactions
with voices of dissent from the community, the state comes to recognize the
sensibility of urban creative economy, and accepts the otherwise marginalized M50
notion of creative industries as a centerpiece of development. In this sense,
the process through which the state endorses the creative economy rhetoric

further demonstrates the relativity of state power.

Third, creative industries help resolve disagreements within the state
apparatus. During periods of contention, there were explicit signs of

disagreement between different levels of the state. At a time when the
district-level government was still jumping on the bandwagon of real estate

investments, the municipal government began to rethink the conventional


approach to urban renewal. In fact, municipal agencies were quick in realizing
the happy marriage between creative industries and empty factory buildings;

they were instrumental in legalizing such efforts. After the success of 'social
experiments' in Tianzifang and M50, district-level governments came to accept
the creative economy and began actively pursuing the creative industries M50
for political showcases. This transition was especially evident in the case of
8
the Bridge 8. Dissemination of official documents alone is not sufficient for

resolving disagreements within the state apparatus. Newly emerging entities
such as creative industries provide the opportunity for the state to reposition its
exercise of power, further demonstrating the relativity of state power.
116 117

Workers in the former textile factory that is now M50, Shanghai


M50
COALTure
district
HOW WEST BUNDS INDUSTRIAL PAST IS SHAPING ITS CREATIVE FUTURE

Text: LI Ni "It's so quiet here; it's almost as if it we're not Shanghai, don't you think?", an old
Editor: Frances ARNOLD man asks me. Having just come to the end of his jog, he points to a chubby boy
Translation: HUANG Jing running after a dog on the nearby lawn, explaining, "That's my grandson." His
daughter drove the whole family here to enjoy the weekend at this open stretch
of river. Indeed, this riverside corridor, delightfully cooled by a refreshing summer
breeze feels far removed from nearby Xujiahui CBD, best known for its sky-high
rents. And yet, when more than three skateboarding foreigners pass by, cruising
along against a backdrop of World Expo Park across the Huangpu River, the
location becomes clear: this is definitely Shanghai. More specifically, this is Xuhui
district's West Bund.
118 119
An 8km Waterfront Along The Huangpu River
As older Shanghai residents will remember, this area adjacent to the Huangpu
River was once an industrial park enveloped in dust. Standing tall on the riverside
corridor are two huge green cranes. They were once the facilities of Nanpu Railway
Cargo Terminal, and were constructed in the Qing dynasty. Steam trains as well
as sections of railway track were also partially preserved. Long Museum (West
Bund), established by private collectors Liu Yiqian and his wife Wang Wei sits on
the former site of Beipiao Wharf, which was previously a specialized coal loading
facility constructed during the Republic of China period. Its history is posted on
a well-preserved coal funnel directly outside the museum. A little further along,
Yuz Museum, established by Chinese-Indonesian collector Yu Deyao is housed
inside a renovated former hangar of Shanghai Aircraft Factory. Elsewhere, the pre-
blending workshop of Shanghai Cement Plant was used as the main pavilion of
West Bund Biennale of Architecture and Contemporary Art in 2013. A 6,000 m2
dome, it once serviced as a huge workshop for blending cement. It was here that
'Shanghai Odyssey', the opening drama for the biennale was held, midst a long
history of industrial development. In the near future, abandoned oil tanks will be
renovated into an art center. Even today, along this 8.4km stretch of waterfront next
to the Huangpu River, visitors can still catch a glimpse of the area's industrial past.

The overall planning area of West Bund is approximately 7.3 km2, from Rihui Port in
the north, to Xupu Bridge. It was industry's retreat from the vicinity that stimulated
the imagination of local planners. Despite not being well connected via public
transportation there are limited bus lines, and the nearest metro station is a long
walk away West Bund attracts a large number of visitors. An international crowd
of young people gather here to enjoy the outdoor climbing facilities and extreme
sports playground; others relax on the grassy lawns, taking in the scenic views and
surrounding activity.

For Guan Yetong, director of Xuhui District Planning and Land Management
Bureau, opening the riverfront and urban space is the first step towards creating a
porous open, urban space. However, planners' ambitions do not stop there. The
Former cement mixing facility, West Bund, Shanghai
name 'West Bund' is invariably associated with two other renowned riverbanks Photo: West Bund 2013 a Biennial of Architecture and Contemporary Art
globally. Indeed, Sun Jiwei, the district mayor of Pudong New District and former (2013)

Xuhui District Party Secretary, told media, "We are confident that West Bund will
become another Left Bank of Paris; a second South Bank of London." His remarks
show that cultural industries are positioned as the driving forces of this region. West
Bund, previously an industrial park focused on iron, coal, sand and oil, is now an


open, urban waterfront, newly tagged with art and culture.

Museums Move to West Bund


At the beginning of 2014, West Bund received its first batch of settlers. On March
28th, Long Museum (West Bund), established by collectors Liu Yiqian and his wife
Wang Wei, opened in the core area of the former Beipiao Matou. Later, in May 2014
Chinese-Indonesian collector Yu Deyao's Yuz Museum was completed upon the
former site of Longhua Airport Hangar. Suddenly, these museums put West Bund
in the spotlight. Guan Yetong believes that the primary aim of choosing culture as
the district's new identifier is to attract different kinds of competition. "The culture of
every place has its own bond and locality. What we need to do is to provide a room
for culture to grow and develop. This is what an urban planner needs to do."

The area's two privately-run museums, Long Museum and Yuz Museum, each
received extensive media attention in the months and years prior to their opening,
and were both selected by West Bund Group. "Compared to public museums,
privately-run museums are better in vitality," Chen Chao, associate chief engineer
of West Bund Group explains. "Maybe it would be improper to use the word
'marketing', but we hope that with such museums, we can draw more people's
attention to this place to create an urban name card exclusively for West Bund."
Lu Jiansong, professor of Cultural Heritage and Museology Department in Fudan
:
University has been studying Chinese museum construction for many years.
Highlighting a current dilemma of public museums that he believes creates
:
misconceptions with regard to China's construction boom, he notes that almost all :
investments are put into physical architectural construction. The exhibition at its
core, meanwhile, is neglected. Public museums have therefore lost their appeal,

as their basic exhibits hardly change over the years. Guan Yetong likens a museum
that lacks content and attractive exhibitions to a tomb, merely to store cultural
relics. The neglect of exhibition content, especially for narrative exhibitions, stems 8.4
from a lack of content planning. "A majority of exhibitions can hardly tell even one

120 good story," he regrets. "Actually, the building is merely a platform for display; the 121
exhibition is the main character at its core. No matter how grand and spectacular

the building looks, few visitors would be attracted to this place without a good
exhibition."


Although Lu Jiansong thinks there are various problems regarding current
privately-run museums and galleries, West Bund Group hold them in high 2013
esteem. According to Guan Yetong, "Compared with public museums, privately- 6000
run museums hold a variety of exhibition-related activities based around their

own collections. We hope that such museums can play the role of accelerant." To
8.4
further enhance the cultural atmosphere at West Bund, a series of activities have
been held here to increase local vitality. They include West Bund 2013 Biennial of
Architecture and Contemporary Art, West Bund Music Festival, West Bund STORM
and Design Art Fashion Fair.
731

The Long Museum, West Bund, Shanghai(Photography: ZH Di)


West Bund also anticipates a degree of operational flexibility on the part of private
collectors. Privately-run museums help to boost art market vitality and by extension, porosity
improve the transaction chain. Inspired by the so-called Art Freeports of both

Singapore and Switzerland, West Bund Artwork Bonded Warehouse has emerged.

This is the second such facility in Shanghai, after National Base for International
Cultural Trade in Shanghai Free Trade Zone. It is a wholly-owned subsidiary of 6.5
Shanghai West Bund Development Group, with investment for its construction from
Shanghai West Bund Artwork Bond Development. Chen Chao, associate chief

engineer of West Bund Group, believes there is a cluster effect brought about by


the presence of privately-run museums. The West Bund Artwork Bond Warehouse
sits beyond the outer ring and south of Xupu Bridge. Inside is stored such rare
artifacts as the 'Clashing-Color Chicken Jar', made under the rule of Emperor
Chenghua during the Ming dynasty. Earlier this year, collector Liu Yiqian bid US$36

million for the precious porcelain at Sotheby's Auction House in Hong Kong. The
establishment of the warehouse indicates further improvement of the artwork
transaction chain for the future. According to Chen Chao, it will be followed by the

development of various industries, such as exhibition and display activities, service

industries, cultural finance and more. Its primary users will be collectors, auction
houses, art galleries and so on, together creating a kind of chain effect together
with the art museums and galleries located along West Bund Cultural Corridor.
The Media Harbor has an 'Oriental Dream'
As the vanguard of West Bund, the privately-run museums boast a total ///
planning area of 7.31km2. Looking ahead, West Bund planners have longer-term
//
developments for this area in the pipeline, promising even greater scale and
dimensions. On a visit to the US in 2012, then Vice-President Xi Jinping signed a
partnership agreement with Dreamworks. Soon after, the American organization 1993
announced plans to settle at West Bund. The so-called Oriental Dreamworks is
a joint venture led by China Media Capital (CMC) with US-based Dreamworks
20
Animation SKG, and Hong Kong Lan Kuai Fong. Its debut will be 'Kung Fu Panda
3', in cooperation with Dreamworks Animation. An unprecedented investment 202013
project between Chinese and foreign cultural entities, Oriental Dreamworks is
hotly anticipated by West Bund, and promises to bring with it great energy. The

development is divided into two divisions, namely Oriental Dreamworks and Dream
Center, each with respective responsibilities. The former is led by US-based
Dreamworks Animation and is responsible for animation technology, research and 2014328
development, as well as movie production and its derivatives. The latter, meanwhile, 5
is in charge of the construction of office buildings, hotels, shopping malls, exhibition

centers, a Dream Arena, Dream Theater and IMAX cinemas. CDB Capital is the
largest sponsor of Dream Center. Mr. Guan Yetong explains, "Although cultural 20082.3
industry has been highly called for in recent years, we hope that we can exert cost CBD
control over finance, all the while fully expecting culture to serve as a catalyst for


sustainable development across all projects." A cultural entertainment complex
situated in downtown, Dream Center is slated for completion in 2017.

Following Oriental Dreamworks' and Dream Center's announcement, a series of



projects related to media have arrived to West Bund successively. They include


Hunan TV's Mango Cultural Investment Development, TVB, King's Film and
Television, SMG, Star TV, Tencent and Wanders Information. "Our wish is to break
the orderly space to create a platform for information and communication," said
Guan Yetong in his introduction to the planning of the media harbor. The nine

blocks at the core of media harbor are to be developed concurrently, based on the

integration of two architectural solutions. One is a 'non-interruption platform' design
by BLAU Architecture. The other takes the form of a basement street design by
Nikken Sekkei, who is also responsible for designing the master plan.
122 123
content planning

Guan Yetong says, "The platform is no new design but would be especially suitable
for the media harbor. On this platform, there will be no interference from traffic,

vehicle, traffic lights or noise. Below will be vehicles and retail areas, with car and
pedestrian traffic circulation kept separate. What we want to achieve is the free
communication between people without any interference or interruption. Genuine

lively cultural exchanges rarely take place in offices due to the orderliness of their
space. What we want to encourage here is the communication between various

and differing social classes within a common public space. Such interaction is also
necessary for the media."
2013

After the retreat of old industry, privately-run museums have been established one
after another at West Bund. The construction of a media harbor, too, is right around
the corner. When asked about the future of West Bund, Chen Chao said, "Frankly
speaking, I am quite concerned about the market demand for cultural consumer

goods and cultural service industry. How big has it really got, despite our paying
close attention to the cultural industries?" As for what form those industries take,
and the kind of creativity they encompass, that all remains to seen. One thing's
for sure, though: these are the questions that will shape the development of this

attractive stretch of Huangpu riverside.

2014482.8

731

2012

China

Media Capital, CMC


Oriental Dreamworks

IMAX

2017

TVBSMG

BLAU

124 125

West Bund, ShanghaiPhoto: West Bund 2013 a Biennial of Architecture and Contemporary Art
(2013)(2013)
Quality,
Quantity &
Content

126 Interview: LI Ni Perhaps you could start by giving a brief introduction of the study you led into 127
Translation: HUANG Jing medium and long-term development planning of Chinese museums.
Photo: WassinkLundgren + Compared with more advanced countries, China is far behind in terms of
BAI Xiaoci museum quantity in proportion to its total local population; however, our
museums have been growing rapidly. By the end of 2013, there were 4,615
museums across the country. And yet, despite the sectors vigorous growth,
there are a series of difficulties relating to museum construction.

First, a majority of our museums are of the historical typology, while they
should be more varied. For example, they could include science and
technology museums; industrial museums in the field of geology, petroleum,
railway and coal; bio-museums linked to wetland; and museums based
around conservation areas and historic sites such as Taihu Museum and
HulunBuir Museum. Among the museums of unvaried types, collections are
highly homogenous. It seems that only bronzes, ceramics, coins, paintings,
calligraphy and the like can be regarded as cultural relics. Besides, the
definition of collection in our country is quite narrow and the collectable value
of many objects is not acknowledged. It seems essential to build a more
scientific system for museum collections.

How is that related to the role museums play in China?


There has long been a misunderstanding of museum collections in China.
Collections are regarded as historic cultural relics or heritages of no relation
to the present. In contrast, museums in advanced countries are informal
educational institutions to disseminate knowledge. Specifically, that means that
Lu Jiansong any tangible or intangible cultural heritage related to human survival and their
Professor at the Cultural environment is collected. More importantly, that heritage is further studied,
Heritage and Museology interpreted and finally disseminated through exhibitions. From this perspective,
Department of Fudan University their collections and studies become a process of producing, organizing
He pioneered the study, and assembling public knowledge, while varied exhibitions offer a means of
'Medium & Long-Term disseminating it. Chinese museums instead generally focus on the collecting
Development Plan of National
and studying of public service functions. Museums in advanced countries
Cultural Heritage',
'Medium & Long-Term provide lots of educational activities centering on exhibitions, products and
Development Plan of Museums study in connection with current affairs and social issues as a secondary CAFA Art Museum, Beijing, 2013
in China (2011-2020)' role thats combined with primary and middle school education. Also, they 2013

sometimes provide small-scale exhibitions combined with correlated academic
research. On the contrary, our domestic museums seldom hold exhibitions, let
alone temporary or exclusive ones. Their basic exhibits hardly change over the
years.

Compared to elsewhere, one of the blind spots in Chinas current museum


boom is the over-emphasis placed on physical construction and neglect of
operational management. Many local governments think that when it comes

to museums, the bigger the better, all the while remaining ignorant of the fact
that there will be huge operational costs after construction. The importance

of the content is thus neglected. Actually, the building is merely a platform for
display; the exhibition is the main character at its core. No matter how grand
and spectacular the building looks, few visitors would be attracted to this place
without good content.

For instance, currently we see several examples of renovation of industrial


heritage including museum construction transforming areas into creative
parks or industrial site parks. In recent years, we have built many industrial
heritage museums, but not very successfully. The reason why such museums
lack an audience still lies with the exhibitions: the production and display of
objects as a disseminator of value and sentiment. The problem with Chinese
museums, narrative exhibitions in particular, mainly lies in content planning.

Does domestic museology education acknowledge these problems in terms of


talent cultivation?
:
The management level of public museums is far from enough. Museums are
like government affiliations. A majority of museum workers have never received 20102011~2020 :
professional training nor might they even have professional competence. There : & +
are problems in museum talent cultivation as it is separated from the actual 2013
demand. There were 4,615 museums by the end of 2013, but fewer than 300
4615
museum professionals were provided by colleges and universities, including
masters and doctorate graduates. The disciplines at Chinese colleges and
universities are highly controlled and fall behind actual demand. For example,
archeology is a first-level discipline and many colleges have an archeology

128 department; however, the equally important museology can only provide 129
a limited number of talents. Worse still, their securing of employment also

proves problematic, despite museum professionals numbering just 300 at


the end 2013. There is no museum professional qualification test requirement
in China, so professionals often find themselves unable to be recruited into

museums. The Shanghai Museum, for instance, requires job seekers to pass
Shanghai public institution test, and many of their employees are not museum
professionals. Theyre constrained by the system. As a result, Chinese
museum personnel actually represent a non-professional team; the supply

cant meet the demand; nor can the current training system meet the various


requirements of the museums.

How are museums connected to their local community, and could closer
collaboration between various sectors boost cultural industries in China?

In my opinion, what we should focus on is how to combine cultural resources
with commercial elements. That could mean bridging science, technology,
innovation and recreational tourism with cultural development. We shouldnt
discard the original cultural elements of a place such as an old industrial

building. A museum should not be built out of nowhere: it has to develop

regional resources, as they are what differentiate it from other places. A
museum should build upon its cultural uniqueness. As China boasts rich
cultural resources, it is important for us to reflect on how to expedite the
integration of our own rich cultural resources with commercial elements so as

to create a brand new cultural industry as an impetus for the transformation
of the economic development mode. There is no easy way to realize this
objective with the absence of creative minds and excellent content planning.



2006




2011~2020

content planning

20134615

130 131

OCT Design Museum, Shenzhen


OCT
Pollution to
Partnership
A SPOTLIGHT ON CHENGDU'S CREATIVE COMMUNITY

By: LI Pu In parallel with a growing art market and increased number of national policies
Editor: LI Juan that support cultural and creative industries, numerous art districts have
+ Frances ARNOLD sprung up throughout the country. They include 798 Art Zone, Caochangdi Art
District and Songzhuang Art Center in Beijing; as well as M50 in Shanghai. Of
the art districts in southwest China, the Chengdu-based Blue Roof Art District
is an example worth discussing.

Although some have enjoyed progress, an influx of capital has inevitably seen
other art districts confronted with issues such as relocation, property right
132 disputes and over-commercialization. Artists' studios are, obviously, very close 133
to artists' work. However, the all-too frequent news of forced relocation of these
studios has encumbered spaces with sensitive and awkward connotations.
Artists are either forced to terminate their leases on studios, or else be
disturbed by their surroundings: the commotion of construction. The question
is: How to create an environment where artists are able to focus entirely on
their work? Certainly, it's a challenge, although not one with which the artists at
Blue Roof Art District need concern themselves.

Blue Roof Contemporary Art Zone is an area of 1km 2 in Xinxing Town,


Chengdu, located approximately 10km from downtown. Next to the scenic
area of Sansheng Flower Town, the planned district includes public art
institutions, art galleries, art centers, studios and bases for spin-off industries
like photography and animation, as well as service agencies for fashion and
tourism.

Other features include Blue Roof Art Festival, first held in May 2013 and
building on Artist Studio Open Day events. Thanks to the cooperation of
Chengdu government, such activities are no longer artist-only affairs, but
altogether broader cultural programs. In total, Blue Roof has attracted over
200 artists.

What is the origin of Blue Roof? How has the former Blue Roof artists' village
transformed during the past decade? And what was the role of the government
and property developers in this process?

Artists' Studios to Artists' Settlement


As artist Zhou Chunya recalls, the idea of setting up a creative district in
Chengdu was inspired by Beijing artists' villages Yuan Ming Yuan and
Songzhuang, as well as the city's 798 Art Zone. In the early 1990s, he and Ye
Yongqin visited the studios of fellow artists Fang Lijun and Ding Fang, both
located in Yuan Ming Yuan. Zhou was impressed, but soon after, in 1995,
his friends were evicted from their Beijing spaces, forcing them to relocate to
nearby Songzhuang. Zhou observed its development, realizing that the artists Blue Roof Art District, Chengdu(Photo: Blue Roof Museum)
based there had a unique lifestyle.

In 1994, artists He Duoling and Zhang Xiaogang came to Chengdu, looking
for new studio spaces. They found a sizable spot in Shaziyan Community on
West Yulin Road. Dozens of artists moved into the space, fast forming a close-
knit community. At that point, contemporary artists were relatively unknown


in Chinese society, and the concept of 'the artist community' was virtually
unheard of.

Gradually, the artists honed their routine. Painting during the day; come


nighttime, they would drink, socialize and converse. Such was the pleasant
and for the most part, peaceful, existence of Chengdu's first wave of
contemporary artists.

As more and more artists moved in, Shaziyan studio became crowded. Once
again, Zhou Chunya started to look for a new place.
Artists Yang Mian, Zhao Nengzhi and Guo Wei found a well-decorated factory
close to the airport. However, after paying the first installment of rent, they
found themselves cheated by the factory owner: unbeknown to them, the
district was up for relocation. Just six months later, it was to be demolished
to make way for the new airport road, meaning artists would be evicted. Now
more than ever, the artists were keen to find a stable studio.

Zhou Chunya joined them to look for a place. In August 2003, they discovered
the Blue Roof: a redundant factory in Cuqiao Town, the origins of its name are
self-explanatory.

The Blue Roof Art District developed rapidly. In November 2003, artists Luo 798
Fahui, Shu Hao and Yang Xuming extended into the factory's workshop,
creating a new space next to the original occupants. In 2004, more artists,
including He Duoling, Tu Hongtao, Fu Xi and Tang Ke moved to Blue Roof.

They too set up new areas within the factory perimeter. Soon, the space
boasted more than 50 artists all working side-by-side.


Compared with their former studios, Blue Roof had a very good working

134 environment and lots of space for artists. Exhibitions held in the Blue Roof 135
of the early 2000s included 'Living in Chengdu', and served to attract the
attention of the media. Zhou Chunya believes the media landscape in Chengdu
is quite open and that its media understand the value of contemporary art,
even at its most obtuse.

However, after a while a more practical problem presented itself: air pollution. 15004A
The smell of toxic substances as well as noise from the nearby furniture factory
became an intolerable nuisance for the artists working there. No longer was

Blue Roof an ideal place for them to focus on their work. "I would get sick as
much as three times every year, sometimes coughing for an entire month."
Zhou Chunya recalls. Soon, Blue Roof's environment wasn't just inconducive
to art, it was downright unhealthy. The increasing pollution and climbing rents 20135
pushed artists to leave. The Blue Roof of old could no longer meet their needs.

Nurturing Artists, Fostering Culture 200


When discussing the requirements for an artists' district or zone, Zhou
Chunya emphasizes three points. First of all, there should be a free creative
environment, which not only relates to the art district itself, but also to its

social system and policies. Secondly, the atmosphere should be good,
which requires both a balance between people, and between people and
society. Thirdly, the ambiance should be comfortable. In 2005, Sansheng
Town government invited the Blue Roof artists to set up an art studio in
798
the community's second district. With so many influential artists, the local
government saw an opportunity to develop a cultural industry through 90
urbanization.


Sansheng is a famous flower town in Chengdu. The local residents supported
the artists in relocating from the pollution of the original Blue Roof, and bringing
their artistic vibrancy to Sansheng's new Blue Roof Art Village. 1994


Blue Roof is an art district where artists both work and live. As emphasized by

Zhou Chunya, a pleasant environment can exert a positive influence on artists'
work. For him, it is important for artists to settle. "If an artist has to worry about
accommodation, food or clothing, he will lack the sense of security and feel
uneasy. On the one hand, artists love this place and can create their work in a
good environment. On the other hand, local people and government are keen
on arts and artists, creating a mutually-advantageous situation. If an art district
is only regarded as a commercial program, it will not necessarily operate well."

In November 2006, Zhou Chunya and 13 other artists approved the Sichuan
Institute of West China Development to sign an agreement with the Sansheng
Community to build the new Blue Roof Art Center in He Tang Yue Se, a

national scenic spot. In May 2007, the new Blue Roof Art Center and the Blue
Roof Art Museum began construction. One-and-a-half years later, construction 20038
of the project's first phase the Blue Roof Art Center was complete. A total 11A
of 14 leading artists formerly associated with the original Blue Roof moved in,
B2004
closely followed by the official opening of the Blue Roof Art Museum.
CDE50
On 26 June 2006, Blue Roof Youth Art Village, the first section of the zone
available for rent, officially opened to the public. In December of the same
year, construction began on Blue Roof Art Village. It was designed by local

architect Liu Jiakun, who was also responsible for the Blue Roof Art Museum.

In September 20 09, Blue Roof Innovation Industry officially signed a
cooperative memorandum with Shuangliu County Government. The two will

join forces to build Blue Roof Contemporary Arts Base, kicking off formal
preparations for Blue Roof Art Village. By November, the government planning

committee had approved the general plan of Blue Roof Contemporary Arts
Base. With a total area of 660m2, it will act as a hub integrating contemporary 201173
art, innovation, fashion, lifestyle and more.
500

May 2013 saw the inaugural edition of the Blue Roof Art Festival. Since then,
Blue Roof Art District and Blue Roof Art Museum have not only retained their
core energy, but also improved facilities. Today, over 300 contemporary artists,
architects and entrepreneurs work in the area.

Art and the City


Having witnessed 11 years of Blue Roof's development, and still as the
136 community's 'leader', it is the flourishing society of artists that most impresses 137
20052
Zhou Chunya. "Some art zones experienced a talent drain, but Blue Roof
has attracted more and more artists, held activities of increasing scale and
attracted support from all walks of life. Moreover, it is important to connect with
the community. Art cannot develop in isolation from our society."


In terms of the relationship between artists and a city's culture, Zhou says,
"There are more than 200 artists in Blue Roof and each of them is independent.
They are devoted to their own work and cognizant of the need to keep their
own character and features in their art. When they unite, though, they represent

a powerful force, and that is the real strength of Blue Roof Art District." A public
event, Blue Roof Art Festival showcases art in a public environment. Not only

does it represent artists from Blue Roof and wider Chengdu, its scope also
extends to China as a whole and internationally.

"The government has played a major role in the development of the Blue Roof
Art District," Ma Yiping, the former Dean of the Chengdu Academy of Fine
Arts, said in an interview. "The government has focused on the coordination

Blue print architecture exhibition, Blue Roof Art Festival,


between artists and entrepreneurs. Chengdu Government's attention and


support to cultural industry is the key to the success of Blue Roof."
20061114
During the opening ceremony of the first Blue Roof Art Festival, Fu Yonglin, 2200752
Deputy Mayor of Chengdu, explained: "You [artists] naturally get together and 2009112
unite into an art society, which has taken ten years. The artistic and cultural

Chengdu(Photo: Blue Roof Museum)


2
effect can augment the international influence of Chengdu. The cultural soft
Art = City Branding
power and international influence of a city are built by various elements. 14
We hope in the future, the Blue Roof art society can bring in more cultural
elements to this city through your wisdom, ideas and artistic work which can
20106264
truly change Chengdu."
123

The biggest difference between Blue Roof Art District and other art zones 3
is that art studios are not only available for rent; some are also for sale. An
appealing base for artists, the district is mainly used as both a residence and a
20099
workplace. All art studios are under the protection of law, and nobody has the
right to drive out the artists. 11
Blue Roof Youth Art Village was the first studio zone available for rent. Under 1500
terms set out by the government aimed at ensuring the district retains its
cultural character, these houses can only be leased to artists. In addition,

Blue Roof Company has reached a five-year rent agreement with the village
committee, similarly forbidding houses be rented to others. These proactive
steps on the part of both the developer and government demonstrate a 20135201380
long-term commitment to nurturing artistic talent and building a sustainable
community.

In discussing the so-called 'Blue Roof phenomenon', critic Guan Yuda


comments that in south-west China, especially in Chengdu, traditions are

passed on from artist to artist, ensuring constant development and refinement
of their practice. Art, especially contemporary art, can only grow against
this backdrop. Viewed in this way, an art district becomes more than an
aggregation of buildings housing artists. It should also stimulate commercial
support from collectors, audiences and media. In this regard, Chengdu
continues to witness a boom, thanks to the city's ongoing support of its artists.
798M50

A Focus on Quality
For artist Ye Yongqing, how the art zone contributes to the city is key. Beyond
injecting cultural facilities, how can art enrich people's leisure time and provide
job opportunities? "An art zone should create opportunities for the public to
share their opinions on arts, including the consumption of art and its related

services. The ultimate goal of an art zone is to become a landmark and to



create a culture-related symbol for the city."


He Guiyan, another critic, emphasizes that when we talk about the
development of an art ecology, we can't eliminate art history. "We easily ignore
some elements while the art zone is improving and edging forwards. When
an artist moves into comfortable studios, how will that influence his creativity


and ecology? This is an issue worth discussing." He also points out that since

2006, the Chinese contemporary art scene has become "tainted with an image
At the very least, right?
of lies, exaggeration and emptiness," which is according to He - directly
related to their environment: studios. After the artists move into large studios,
138 they tend to adopt methods of large-scale production, influencing their artistic 139

aesthetic, visual experience and creation pattern. "We hope that art zones
like Blue Roof Art District, will not be taken over by large companies which
contribute to a fake cultural industry," says He. "The more capital that gets
involved, the easier it is for culture to lose its grassroots qualities. On the other
hand, if there is only involvement of government without capital from private

sources, problems will also emerge."

When it comes to optimizing the art zone, Guan Yuda points out, "We need
exchange, but not too much. Art, in essence, is individual. Too much exchange

will bring harm to some parts of art."
=

Qiu Anxiong, a Sichuan-born artist who works in Shanghai talks about the
geographical differences of art between Shanghai and Chengdu. He says,
"Artists should stay independent. Although they have good conditions to work

in, making an artwork is very individual, and something that should not be
influenced by other elements."

A Question of Balance

Cultural industry is a double-edged sword. It is beneficial if developers can
embrace contemporary art however obtuse and respect artists' production.
However, if developers use cultural industries to promote real estate, that could
have a detrimental effect on art.

4
The harmonious inter-relationship between artists, real estate developers and
the local government is key to the continuous development of the Blue Roof.
For artists, Blue Roof is meaningful as a center for contemporary art. Artists 3
gather together to carry out art production, to communicate with each other

and get support. Far from short-sighted, the developer of Blue Roof has long-
term intentions to maintain the district as an art cluster. Local government
benefits from the progress that Blue Roof brings in terms of urbanization and

'city branding', whilst in turn, residents benefit from a vibrant cultural hub and
the public programming it encompasses.


140 141

2006


Studio Luo Fahui, Blue Roof, Chengdu (Photo Daan Roggeveen)

SIgn of the
times
HIGH ART IN THE OUTSKIRTS OF GUANGZHOU

Text: YUAN Jing Midst the relentless rain of Guangzhou, we slowly pulled into a vacant spot
Editor: Frances ARNOLD on North Huangbian Road. A casually dressed old man ran towards us from
Photos: Iwan BAAN across the street. "Ten yuan parking fee, please." I paid him the money and
asked for a receipt. Unceremoniously tossing his umbrella onto the ground
in spite of the torrential rain he pulled a crumpled paper from his bag. The
receipt was issued by an organization a short distance away, exotically named
'Yellow Stone Great Gate Building'. Here was my passport to the complexities
and charms of the Pearl River Delta

The Margin of Imagination


This is Huangbian on the north of Baiyun Hill. Architect He Jianxiang has
just been invited by Nikita Cai, the curator of Times Museum, to participate
in upcoming exhibition, 'You Can Only Think about Something if You Think of
Something Else'.

In 2005, He Jianxiang had only recently returned from abroad. Intrigued at real
estate developer Times Property inviting Dutch star architect Rem Koolhaas to
design an art museum for one of the group's residential towers, he drove out
to Times Rose Garden to investigate. At the time, both the North Highway of
Baiyun Avenue and the subway were still distant projects, very much confined
to planners' blueprints. In short, Huangbian was a far-off prospect, in all
142 senses. 143

Things remained largely unchanged until 2010. Then, right ahead of the Asia
Games, Huangbian Station opened along Guangzhou's metro line two. At the
beginning of the same year, Times Art Museum registered as a non-profit art
museum, re-opening in October of 2010. As relative late-comers to China's
cultural creative industry, Times Museum is now seeking to develop a new
model, making its operation and branding worthy of discussion.

On a political level, China's current policy of 'restraining the second industry


and developing the third industry' sets the stage for a 'leap forward' by creative
parks. In 2010, 'Rules for the Implementation of the Reform and Development
Plan Outline (2008-2010) of Guangzhou' was issued. Therein, creative parks
were confirmed as 'key strategic projects'. Although the development of cultural
creative clusters in the Pearl River Delta is relatively advanced, Guangzhou's
expansion is nonetheless monotonous in terms of development planning
and supporting systems, as demonstrated by skewed policies, insufficient
capital support and lack of tax reduction. A media professional I spoke to who
wishes to remain anonymous postulates that this 'suppressing the second
industry and developing the third industry' caused a lot of private enterprises
in Guangzhou to leave in favor of nearby Foshan and Shunde. "When GDP
decreases, how can we even begin to consider the cultural industry?" Today,
most creative parks are operated according to market standards. The rent at
well-known local creative parks such as TIT and Hongzhuan has reached 200
RMB per square meter each month. Unsurprisingly, many creative and design
enterprises and institutions have been put off by this prohibitive price.

For a time, He Jianxiang found himself spend considerable time and energy
in Guangzhou's many creative parks. In 2013, it was announced that the
facilities in Tianhe District in which his firm was located were to be razed. He
moved operations to the nearby Original Element Creative Park. "The rent of
creative parks in Guangzhou is so high," he complains. Many, he notes, are
home to restaurants and photography studios, although fashion labels are
increasingly turning their attention to creative parks. Local businesswomen in Times Museum, Guangzhou
particular often operate their small-scale clothing companies from the clusters.

With a high turnover and even higher prices, they are generally very profitable
enterprises, vastly exceeding the income levels of other creative companies.

It was in this milieu that Times Museum shifted its identity and in doing so,
challenged traditional concepts of cultural creative industry. Without the
support of policies, care of the government, sponsorship from enterprises or
an established art market as found in the likes of Beijing, Shanghai and Hong
Kong, Times becomes a 'community art museum'. Positioning itself literally
and figuratively at the heart of the area's creativity, the institution probes
new possibilities of art production and community interaction through its
programming.

Post-Modern Texture
Just steps away from Entrance D of Huangbian metro station, the 19-story :
Times Museum stands upright and tall. Running from east to west, a scroll-like
10
: Iwan Baan
vista unravels beyond, plotting the evolution of urbanization in southern China:


there's Baiyun Hill shrouded in mist and clouds, residential neighborhoods
and the green farmland beside Guangyun Road. The road, incidentally, is new,
although the distinctive factory district is still there: all blue and white roofs, it's
home to 'Ba Wang Shampoo' amongst others. Examining the area on Google
Earth, He Jianxiang observes a fragmented landscape of this 'village within a

city'. "However," he notes, "If you step into the area, you will find that the rural-
urban fringe is continuous." Nikita


The museum's current exhibition features subtle reflections of Huangbian. The
2005
ceiling's fiberglass, mirrored surface, for example, references the context of the
museum. From it hangs a cluster of three fake ficus trees, a nod to the Pearl
River Delta's farming of Christmas trees for export. Elsewhere, film maker Zhao
Liang's short documentary plays inside an incongruous shed-like installation;
while visitors enter the space through an altogether more whimsical 'moon
20102
door'. Although artists' interpretations of the urban village are fanciful, they
nonetheless reflect Huangbian's unique urban structure. 2010

10
A kind of rural-urban ordered chaos, Times Museum and its vicinity have

144 undergone several cycles of change. In 2003, Huangbian was close to what 145
journalist Doug Saunders dubbed 'The Arrival City', a place where migrants
enter the urban condition. 2009

20102008~2020
For the 2005 Guangzhou Triennial, Rem Koolhaas was invited to design a

museum for one of real estate companies and sponsors Times Property's
residential complexes. Although the construction for Times Rose Garden, the
18-floor residential building that would eventually house Times Museum, had
already been approved by the government, architects Koolhaas and Alain

GDP
Fouraux nonetheless had their own vision for the space. After experiencing
TIT
first-hand the stunning city vistas visible from the tower's rooftop, they decided
to position the 'real body' of the Times Museum high up on the 19th floor. 200/

Designed as a box and made from light steel, the structure was to perch atop
2013
the tower and be full of informality. "It's a very ambitious program for a regular
art pavilion. We wanted to prove with this museum that it would be possible to

infiltrate a new program into an environment that was already built," explains
Fouraux. "The commercial force was initiated by the developer who wanted to
30
'theme' their residential project. That's very common in China, but more usually

follows more abstract concepts of 'tropical', 'Mediterranean', or 'Euro-style'.
The initial proposition was to build a pavilion in the central courtyard of the
second phase of the project."


A project deliberately kept separate from the architects' parent company OMA,
Times Museum was created without a design fee. "This is the reason it is not
an OMA project, which would have had too many overhead costs. Instead, it
was a personal project of Rem and myself." Despite Guangzhou's relatively
weak contemporary art scene, not to mention the project's unlikely positioning
in the outskirts of the city, Foreaux considers the Times Museum a success.
"Actually, it's beyond our expectations. In China there is such a density of
people, unseen for instance in Europe, which means opportunities can be D19
found where you may not expect them."

After the project's progress was temporarily halted as a direct result of the
financial crisis, construction then resumed in 2009. At that time, Zhang Zhitao
10google
was a photographer at the Southern Metropolis Daily. He purchased a unit earth

inside Times Rose Garden and became a 'landlord'. By this point, prices within
the complex had risen to 9,000 RMB per square meter. "I graduated from the

Guangzhou University of Foreign Studies, so I have links to the place", explains
Zhang. After the metro station opened in 2010, he recalls that almost all of
the tower's tenants were involved in the fashion business, or else worked at

nearby offices now easily accessible by metro. At the time, the cost of renting

space at Times Rose Garden was just half that of downtown Guangzhou.


Zhang held on, and in 2013, once the city's property prices had reached
an unprecedented high, he sold his unit for 20,000 RMB per square meter.
Concurrently, Times Rose Garden transformed from an outer suburban to a

middle-class community.
Nikita

However, Zhang firmly believes that the presence of the art museum exerted
only minimal impact on rising rents. In Guangzhou, people are more familiar 2003
with traditional expositions and official art museums. "Cantonese are skeptical. Doug SaundersArrival City
Sure, they go to the grocery market everyday, but they are not accustomed
40005000/
to visiting art museums." It's an opinion shared by curator of Times Museum,
Nikita Cai.


The Academic Production of the Art Museum

After a curator project in The Netherlands, Cai returned to China. Faced
with the challenge of launching a museum positioned neither in the CBD
district nor within a cultural cluster, she recalls her thinking at the time. "I am a 2005
Cantonese," she states. "As an institution curator, despite my own background, 18Rem Koolhaas
attitude or interest, I have to honestly consider the local context of the art
Alain Fouraux
museum and reflect the district through exhibitions. It must become an open
platform instead of a place to simply accumulate 'high-end' art or exhibitions 19
catering exclusively to the market. Times Museum will interact more with the

neighborhood and urban topics."



The tenants of Times Rose Garden are mostly 'new Cantonese' from Teochew,
Shantou or other parts of the Pearl River Delta. For four years, Nikita Cai has

observed tenants, grandparents and grandchildren alike all walk into the art OMA
146 museum, although 20-30-year-olds still represent the core demographic. "The 147
"
history of art museums in China is quite short, and that of contemporary art
even shorter. That calls for an imaginative approach. Young people are the
most open to change, including being changed by contemporary art." 14192008


"People still have the energy to think about things besides their livelihood
when they are young. They participate in artists' workshops, pose questions
at lectures, work as artists' assistants and even go abroad and choose art or 2009
curatorial studies as their majors. However, when they have to make a living 9000/

and support a family, the familiar faces that used to be seen every week in
20102
the art museum disappear. Their life plans become tied by reality. The whole
society reinforces such ties. For most people, art is only an unnecessary 2013
ornament." 2/

As part of its current exhibition, the museum has introduced a new activity,

'Night Trip in the Art Museum'. Guides take visitors on a flashlight-lit tour of
the exhibition, and participating artists like Ariel Schlesinger lead guests

in activities such as making graffiti inside the space. "Art museums are not
necessarily serious spaces. They should be full of vitality. Visitors should be

allowed to talk and touch. Visitors should have new relationships with works.
The art museum doesn't need to play the role of a superior 'enlightener' all
the time." During her four-year tenure, the questions posed by visitors have
also evolved: 'What is an art museum?' 'Why are these works art?' 'What's the CBD
meaning of the work?' Cai has tried to address the 'meta-narration' of the art


museum in the minds of her audience. "Contemporary art is not necessarily
beautiful. These works are not necessarily created by masters. Visitors
sometimes get confused. But it's not their problem. Perhaps they are just not
accustomed to the artists' way of viewing, perceiving and transforming things.

Therefore, curators have to mediate. They have to translate works for the
audience. In western countries, it is directly requested by national policies that
exhibitions supported by public funds create a public realm that can be readily
approached by visitors." 20~30



Productive and academic exhibitions and projects are at the foundation Times Museum, Guangzhou
of Cai's role as curator. "The concept of 'curator' wasn't popularized until
around 2000. Our society respects power. So-called discourse power of
the curators is also part of such illusions and rivalry. However, independent
Isn't everybody called a curators all over the world are gradually disappearing. During recent years,
curator these days??
in the western world, right-wing governments have come into power. Under
neoliberal policies, the cultural part of the public funds is whittled down. All
in all, contemporary art can only act as an imaginary buffer in social-cultural
conflicts. It's difficult to evaluate its real contribution."


"There are many types of art museums with differing institutional systems
in the world. The most typical art museums in Europe are those dependent
on national public funds. In America, there is the powerful gallery system
and private foundations. The most well-known art museums such as The
Ariel Schlesinger

Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York and The Art Institution of Chicago
are mostly private museums. However, there should be more than one model.
There should be museums other than Guggenheim or MOMA. Art museums
and institutions should differ in level, scale and focus to resist the so-called



'successful' model."

However, art museums have several 'invisible enemies', as illustrated by Times


Museum's blockbuster show and the most-visited in its four-year history: Araki
Nobuyoshi. The show's popularity is comparable to recent shows of Claude

Monet in Shanghai's K11 art mall, and the phenomenally successful Yayoi
Kusama exhibition at Shanghai MOCA. "Such spectacular and headline art
exhibitions do have universal significance. However, they are more closely

related to pop culture and consumerism. Internationally-speaking, art
2000
museums have been forced to take the entertainment industry as their rival.

They are too closely bound with capital and market through the number of
visitors and entrance ticket income. "


Temporary exhibitions of contemporary art are fundamentally different from
permanent exhibitions in traditional museology. The latter concentrates long

history into a narration slide from a strategically advantageous anthropological
perspective. However, contemporary art emphasizes the relationship with the
moment in spite of basing on the community or global viewpoint.
148 149
MOMA
Such is the model of 'Huangbian Station Project', situated next to a
convenience store at the entrance to Times Rose Garden. In 2013, Li Yao,
the initiator of the project curated the exhibition 'Why Huangbian Station is to

be Closed'. Originally intended as a creative response to the shutting down 50006000
of Songzhuang Independent Film Festival in Beijing, the show comprised

works by 23 artists. One of them, He Yixiang, devised an off-site signage
system inside Huangbian metro station. Directing users to facilities such as
public toilets, Wi-Fi areas, drinking water dispensers, chess and card rooms,
it functioned as a catalyst for residents and artists to meet. One of of the
Huangbian Project's participating artists, Xu Tan describes how the metro
station and the art museum have formed a relationship of subordination and Temporary Exhibition
contract. "The fund provided by the Times Art Museum seems similar to the Permanent Exhibition
concept of the foundation in western society." Without demand for return due
to capital investment, art production is relatively free.
2013

Capital and Art 23


Having prepared a pot of fresh Dancong tea, director of Times Art Museum
Zhao Qie gazes out of his office window. "It is such a great view from the 19th
wifi
floor," he comments. "The development of 'Times' has been relatively smooth",
Zhao begins. "In the future, private art museums and real estate capital will
embark on a new phase. Perhaps these two will drift apart gradually, or
perhaps the emphasis on real estate will grow."


Art museums require serious amounts of money to operate. Without a steady
flow of abundant capital, the public role of the art museum can become
easily distorted. Were that to happen, it could become more of a gallery, or
else be leased to the public for unrelated functions. "Half of the capital is

19
used for exhibitions. Non-business costs, operation costs and public project
dissemination respectively occupy one-third." Presently, Times Museum's

activities span four exhibitions, one public project and three to four Open
Studio events each year, including the Huangbian Station initiative. Additional
expense is being channeled into an ongoing collaboration with Minsheng Art

Museum, Ullens Center for Contemporary Art, Chengdu A4 Contemporary Times Museum, Guangzhou
Art Center, Taikang Space and Grandview Mall. Together, the institutions will

publish 'Chinese Contemporary Art Studies (The First Issue)' in partnership
with Guangxi Normal University Press at the end of 2014.
600
"Money or labor, everyone contributes what he has." says Zhao Qie. Although
Times Museum receives no support from Guangzhou municipal government,


150 exhibitions 'Shift' (2011) and the 'Next Stop, Huangbian' project (2012) were 151
both selected by their respective 'national museum development support 4134

plans', each receiving a stipend of 250,000 RMB. "Grassroots spirit and A4


original ecology are the features of the Pearl River Delta. As Times Property 2014
doesn't interfere with our operation, the support of the government will impose

ideological and cultural requirements. So it's better to be free," Zhao explains.

In 2008, Times Property's charity foundation was established, qualifying for


pre-tax deduction of public donations. At the same time, the Times Museum
20112012
was registered as a 'private non-profit enterprise' and as such does not enjoy
25

the same tax benefits available to foundations. Despite Times Art Museum
receiving sponsorship from both the German and Swiss Consulates, diversified
capital channels are nonetheless a challenge to achieve. This is in part due
to its 'grassroots' traits. A media contact who wished to remain anonymous
sharply commented on the situation, "In Guangzhou, don't expect 'Audi' for
sponsorship, you should ask 'Haudi'!" It's a standpoint with which Zhao agrees: 2008
"Luxury brands are willing to sponsor art exhibitions in Beijing and fashion
shows in Shanghai. For Guangzhou, there are only golf competitions."



How can the influence of Times Art Museum be transformed into GDP? "On
one hand, of course it can be achieved by capital sustainability," Zhao explains.


"On the other hand, it is insisting on the system of academic production." In
2013, Today Art Museum launched a forum on private art museums. However,
its member museums differ vastly in terms of capital environment, policy
environment and ideological orientation. As a consequence, it is impossible for GDP

them to form an alliance and support each other. 2013


Nikita Cai thinks that a well-off community can create a good environment for
2016K11
art. However, she believes our society has not yet reached a real consensus
on the value of art. "People consider it just another investment opportunity.
Under such circumstances, it is possible to set up an art foundation with
a certain degree of openness that can be used for the audience to share

resources, instead of feeding the false impression to equate art with luxurious
lifestyle."

Times Museum, Guangzhou

the
Stakeholder
Analysis
VIABLE AND UNVIABLE OPTIONS FOR 798

Text: Martin DE JONG While much of the well-informed readership of any quality newspaper is
Photos: Saskia VENDEL surprised to read that a government policy fails, most scholars in the field
+ Neville MARS of public administration expect failure under normal circumstances and
Translation: LI Ni are therefore delighted when government interventions prove successful.
This applies a fortiori when the policy concerned addresses a complex and
supposedly 'wicked' and 'intractable' social problem where all factors hang
together and cannot be addressed in isolation. The cause of reviving and
gentrifying unemployment-stricken neighborhoods suffering from a 'culture
of poverty' is typically an example of such a socio-economic problem where
one would expect government policy to be doomed to fail. And yet, local
152 governments around the world seem to have found a remarkably effective 153
recipe to help urban ghettos find their way back up: bring the artists back
in. If urban districts are unattractive, run-down and filthy, if office space and
apartments are left abandoned and the populace that can afford it has moved
out, what can local governments do to turn things around? The simple solution
appears to be just to invite young painters, sculptors, writers and musicians
to join the ranks of the deprived for free, occupy the empty spaces and turn
these into their 'ateliers'.

The costs involved for local government for such a policy are close to zero,
since it is impossible to attract regular occupants anyhow. The benefits,
however, are potentially enormous: if the policy proves to work and the artists
manage to upgrade the neighborhood, the value of land and real estate rise
considerably, opening roads to new profitable investments. The costs for the
artists are also close to zero, because they will at most pay only a symbolic fee
for being allowed to use these work spaces. All they have to do is make them
appealing to themselves and an inspiring context for their art products. Their
benefits, too, can be remarkable. Not only do artists now have an attractive
environment for their work, moreover they discover that around them operate
other artists with whom they can cooperate, learn from, emulate, get inspired
by and drink coffee and wine. Artistic talent clustering in areas removed
from regular bourgeois life not only boosts the quality of artists' work but
also, over time, turns the neighborhood into a cult destination. A place where
the adventurous tourists, art historians, anthropologists and social workers
go to discover what romanticism is all about. Then, once members of the
bourgeois community from other neighborhoods notice that such a cult place
has emerged, they decide to flock in. Land and real estate prices go up, the
owners want to see money again and a large portion of the artist community
decides to leave. They do so either because the rent rises too high, or because
the pristine and clustered artist community is no longer what it used to be.
And that is where the miracle of the effective resolution of an intractable policy
problem is completed: the alchemy of turning old into gold.
Martin de Jong
Delft University of Technology The first time I heard of this miracle (and observed it with my own eyes) was Neville Mars in 798winter 2004
Fudan University in Glasgow, but by now I know that a variety of local governments around the 798 2004
798
world have used artists as the ideal vehicle for gentrification of deprived inner
city districts. In fact, it has even become common knowledge among involved
academics and is described as one of the common strategies for gentrification
on Wikipedia.org.

So far, everything appears unproblematic. Local governments and property


owners can reap the sweet fruits of poor neighborhood alchemy: they simply
drive out some of the artists again (with or without a tip), while still other

artists leave by themselves because in their eyes, the area has lost its special
attraction. Soon after the departure of these 'light gentrifiers' the area is
redeveloped at a tidy profit.

But what might happen if artists deplore the gradual or sudden entropy of their
creative cluster? What if they are determined to preserve the area more or less
in its original state and receive the provisional blessing of higher ranks within
the local government to do so because the neighborhood has become a star
tourist attraction? Such is the case of 798 district in Beijing.

In the rest of this article, I will be addressing the question of what it takes to
preserve creative clusters or communities. I will be doing this from the public
policy perspective I am most familiar with, but with a keen eye for aspects from
other disciplines relevant to understanding the matter at hand. The main practical
tool I will be using for my analysis is stakeholder analysis, applying it to the case
of organizational reform in 798. A useful yet blunt tool, it is able to recognize the :
formal goals and resources of each the involved players, but unable to detect
Saskia VENDEL +
somewhat shadier, informal patterns. Finally, I will explore practical avenues of
preserving and even enhancing creative clusters for the future. :


Essentials of Stakeholder Analysis
Exploring the options for a reform of existing institutional and organizational

patterns can be done with a so-called 'stakeholder analysis'. A stakeholder
analysis does no more and no less than its name suggests: it analyzes who
the stakeholders are; what their position is in the network of organizations;
what resources they have at their disposal; what formal and informal rules

154 guide their behavior; what their objectives are; and how they perceive the 155
situation at hand. The result of such an analysis, if appropriately done, gives

a decent understanding of who the relevant players are, why they act as they
do and what it would take to get them on board with possible reform of the
existing structure. In many cases, it proves hard to turn things around because

of conflicts of interests among the stakeholders, lack of sufficient resources
to implement change and limited degrees of freedom to adjust legal rules
or revise cultural practices. In many cases, a stakeholder analysis provides
evidence of why reform is either impossible or only marginally possible. Only

very few analyses show that dramatic transformation can be initiated that all

players can go along with. Stakeholder analysis tends to demonstrate why
optimizing the performance of an organizational system is out of the question,
but at least how 'satisficing' (as Nobel Prize winner Herbert Simon called it)
ways of dealing with problems can be found that stakeholders can tolerate.

However straightforward all of this may sound, for many, such a player-oriented
perspective of resolving problems is not how they normally look at practical
problem-solving. Rather, they would look at the organization or policy system
as a whole and propose what they believe to be optimal solutions at that level,

adopting the perspective of one of the players and implicitly assuming that
all other stakeholders will comply and deploy their resources to make that
optimal solution possible. The problem, however, is that power is fragmented
in organizational systems, divided up between various players who often
798
have conflicting goals in what they want to achieve. This makes overhauls of
organizational systems, however desirable, a hard task unless all who have the
required resources are willing to utilize them in ways conducive to such a change.

798
Let us assume the following example. A neighborhood has been gentrified by

artists and it has become a popular place. The municipality is delighted that
its policy has worked and intends to capitalize on this success by inviting real 798
estate companies, contractors and infrastructure builders to develop the area
and requests the artists to leave. The city government has been waiting to

generate income from the area and now finally gets its opportunity. If it creates
good conditions, investors will be willing to come in, take risks and generate
new employment for the inhabitants of the city, in turn enticing regular people
from other parts of town to settle there as new and paying residents. This
seems like a fair and decent solution after the several years the artists have
been enjoying the free use of facilities that were never truly theirs'. The problem

is that these artists are unlikely to leave their premises on a voluntary basis.
They are either simply adamantly opposed to leaving because they are proud
of what they created, or only willing to do so peacefully on the condition of a
handsome fee that allows them to comfortably settle elsewhere. If the former
is true, either legal tenant protection legislation makes it hard simply to send
Herbert
them packing, or else social mobilization of the wider community may make
it politically unattractive to suppress the resistance. If the latter is true, the Simon
municipality will need financial resources to compensate for artists' unwanted
outplacement. However, if the authorities are seriously strapped for cash,

they may not have the financial resources to accommodate these claims until
they receive tax income from investors or the new occupants of the gentrified
space. But these stakeholders are similarly waiting for the opportunity to get
involved before they can begin to generate the funds required to pay these
very taxes. A 'Catch 22', it seems.

Alternatively, as is currently the case in 798 district, a strategic decision has


been made to preserve or even (re)strengthen artists' presence in an already
weakened creative cluster. But presumably that would also run into trouble with

various stakeholders having conflicting goals and inflexible rules that prevent
constructive government action.


An Example of Stakeholder Analysis: Reforming 798
The first step in conducting a stakeholder analysis is identifying the client. Who

is the so-called 'problem-owner'? Who really wants to alter the organizational
setting, undertake corrective measures and identify who the other players
are? In the case of 798 it is the Seven-Star company, the owner of the real
estate. The Seven-Star company is part of a larger state-owned enterprise

called 'Electronics City'. Given that it is primarily driven by a profit-motive
798
(albeit a softened version because it has public shareholders), it wishes to
'rationalize the management' of 798 and 'make it a financial structure sound'. 798
Too much money is lost with residents paying only low fees for their dwellings,
156 office spaces, factories, shops, bars and ateliers. Now that it has become 157
an attractive location, redevelopment would likely generate far higher profits.
Neighboring district 751 has already long since done this, and successfully. 798
Seven-Star is thus under pressure to rearrange, reorganize and restructure
the district. It also has the resources to implement new policies, primarily 798
funds and official legal property of the real estate. That seems like a clear

assignment and in many circumstances that would not necessarily cause
trouble, but 798 is special. 798798


Local government has designated the district to become a special zone for
798751
artistry and entertainment: it has cultural value that should be preserved as
much as possible. This makes the tools Seven-Star has at its disposal relatively 798
blunt, their use severely restricted. Since local government plays no active part
in the decision-making, we will not identify it as a separate stakeholder here,
but as a force in the background. Its impact is indirectly felt by the influence
798
it exerts on the starting position of the client and other stakeholders. It has, in
fact, indicated a second client-stakeholder alongside Seven-Star with a more 798
cultural profile: a mature and highly respected artist who can credibly act on
behalf of the wider artist community and propose solutions, often having the
798
support of much of this community. Therefore, this second stake-holder should
be taken seriously by Seven-Star. 798


This 'representative' of the artists is deeply committed to keeping 798 a 798
thriving cultural community and wary of any changes in the direction of
commercialization, superficiality and banal activities that deprive the area
of its special character. He has neither money nor legal power, but he is
knowledgeable and can mobilize influential people inside and outside 798. 798
Simply put, he is a force to be reckoned with.

Luckily, the leadership of Seven-Star is currently attuned to the subtlety of

the commercial-cultural task at hand, and willing to share the problem of co-
ownership with that representative. The group of other stakeholders consists
primarily of the various tenants within 798: gallery-owners, producing artists,

local entrepreneurs such as shop-owners, caf-owners, and other small 798, Beijing
companies more or less related to the proclaimed special identity of 798. 798
Their interests can be divergent: some want a quiet environment to generate
cultural artifacts, some organize exhibitions and invite a jet-set international 798
audience to attend, some want to sell high and low-quality handbags, some

offer repair services for bicycles and many are keen to enhance their turnover
from the sales of a variety of drinks. None of them have heavy apparatus of
power (money, legal instruments or ownership of land or real estate in the
area), but some may be capable of mobilizing people, either for protests or
guanxi in lobbying higher levels and stalling solutions they see as harmful to
798
their own interests. Normally, mixed commercial and cultural functions should
be perceived as a promising symbiosis: artists produce artifacts coveted by 798
potential buyers; gallery owners create an environment where the elite can
meet; painters and sculptors can sell their works to the financially-privileged;

shop-owners sell the stylish handbags to their good-looking wives; coffee-
bars offer latte macchiato for the curious tourists with no intention or means
for financial speculation; and bike repair shop owners chat with visiting 798
friends while pumping up their tires. In theory, this appears a perfect blend
of activities and at this point, the community still seems to be not just thriving
798
but a cultural phenomenon. The tourists, who we consider a background force
rather than a stakeholder due to their diffusion, still flow through the gates in
respectable numbers. But the world is dynamic: more and more artists can 798
no longer afford to pay the rent and as such, move out. Others see too many

tacky shops and tasteless tourists appearing and claim that this is not the right
audience for their work. Finally, high-end gallery owners agree with them and

also seek other locations. The delicate balance among the various functions
and factions is broken, placing the cultural value of the district under threat.
At 798, some stakeholders are of that opinion and the two client-stakeholders
agree: something needs to be done. The formal owner of the real estate,
Seven-Star has legal power to evict tenants and the financial means to invest
in redevelopment. The representative of the artists can mobilize and motivate 798
his backbenchers to stay and/or re-establish themselves there if he can help
create a favorable environment. Together they have lots of resources and

should be able to arrange a decent organizational solution, should they not?

Viable and Unviable Reform for 798: The Shadow of Informal Practices 798
158 The truth is that although their goals are in formal alignment, for Seven-Star 159
the financial considerations are the bottom-line, with the cultural identity of
798 as a side-consideration. For the artists' representative, meanwhile, exactly
the opposite applies. This renders their alignment partly cosmetic. A public-
sector solution with just subsidies for high-end artists is clearly inconceivable.
Assuming that local government does not contribute anything and no other
798
rationalization takes place, the developer would only lose money. It is a bleeder
and a no-go. But perhaps another way around this ordeal can be found if
Seven-Star acts tough and manages to get rid of all 'tacky unfashionable
shops', replaces their owners with better-paying and higher-end ones and
spends part of the saved money on recruiting and subsidizing high-profile
artists and galleries. These should then be allowed to enhance the standard
of the district, making it far more attractive to the high-spending elite. Since
all parts of the real estate is legally in the hands of Seven-Star, that option 798 =
sounds attractive: tenants officially do not have any legal protection and can
798
therefore be sent packing at any time. But there is a catch. Now we stumble
on the informal practices that a stakeholder analysis of merely formal players
overlooks: practically all lots are managed by Seven-Star's ex-employees.

These people used to work for the factory owners, but have lost their jobs over
time. In order to make a peaceful departure from the labor market possible,
they were informally offered control over one or more units of factory or office 798
space in exchange for a lower pension. That was a proper condition for them
not to protest their dismissal, but one that they have come to depend on.
Due to reliance on income generated from sub-letting 'their' facilities, they
will therefore want to prevent at any cost losing this control. This quid pro
quo agreement between Seven-Star and former employees in effect leads to
informal rights. Any plea by a Western or uninformed Chinese to Seven-Star to

reclaim their official property or real estate would therefore be unworkable and
nave. Formal rights turn out to be meaningless here, and informal practices

prevail. This context makes the proposed reform, apart from being immoral
and likely to provoke riots, either impossible or extremely expensive if Seven-
Star wants to buy out all 'informal managers'. In the latter case, the high
798
compensation costs would lead to a protracted process and probably offset
the gains made by selective redevelopment, however attractive and well-done.
Yet another option, in theory, would be to guide the low-paying artists to the 798, Beijing
exit and replace them with better-paying traders who would generate income. 798

Such a solution, of course, would go against the artists' representative's vital


interests and not be in line with the policy that 798 should be a special district
with a strong cultural profile.

It appears that massive veto-powers exist against change for powerful


transformation. Instead, all we can find is a 'chain of impossibilities': nothing
seems to work! One could almost draw the conclusion that it is best for
everyone to rest on their laurels, after all. But then the situation would probably
deteriorate further over time and 798 would gradually fade to grey. In this light,
an incentive remains for all to act.

I see two possibilities to get around all these stumbling blocks of conflicting
goals, vested interests, moral obligations and cultural appropriateness: a
minor one and a major one. The minor and incremental solution generates low
risks and only slight benefits: whenever a particular tenants leaves, (s)he is
either replaced by a better paying commercial one adding to the quality of the
district; or a non-paying special high-quality artist who furthers its reputation.
Any other new activity will not be allowed to settle in the neighborhood. Seven-
Star takes responsibility for the selection of new tenants, with the artists'
representative as its cultural advisor. This sounds straightforward, but actually
requires an active and lasting commitment to be properly implemented and
will only engender success over time. Consistency, persistence and patience
are the virtues in this case and the reward will eventually come. In this minor
possibility, few strong interests are attacked and little resistance is evoked.

When choosing the major change option, however, rewards can not just be
accrued faster; they can also be substantially higher. Nonetheless, the solution
evokes a storm of strong reactions that should be steered in a productive
direction. In this case, the two client-stakeholders must jointly develop a pro-
active policy to turn the district into a sort of official open air museum. In
this way, it would capitalize on its already well-deserved status as a tourist
attraction, but this would also be made an official policy. Such an approach
160 would require all major stakeholders to raise quality standards by creating an 161
environment that comprises events, campaigns and advertising, all resulting
in a higher reputation. This would also require the awareness that all players

?
CITY = MUSEUM..
in 798 need each other in order to survive. The most strident, supportive and
active artists will take the lead in inviting commercial players to contribute
physically and financially to make the vision possible. The situation calls for a
cohesive community where commercial interests benefit from and contribute
to the presence of cultural ones.

This form of quid pro quo, the essence of turning stakeholder analysis into
practical action, is called 'value capturing'. The potential financial value of
artistic activities for the district must be made visible and explicit: shop-
keepers' benefits will only last if they contribute financially to the cultural
activities on which they themselves thrive. MASS TOURISM

Needless to say, this approach requires extensive planning on the part of both
client-stakeholders. It also calls for excitement, conviction and willingness to HARSH COMMERCE
engage on the part of a few leading artists and their representative; as well
as consistent support from Seven-Star. It will take time and energy, but once
CREATIVE INDUSTRIES
commercial players begin to embrace their new context, either actively or
under social pressure, more will follow. This major transformation approach will
not lean on legal action, but on well-organized moral pressure and vision for
ART INSTITUTIONS
the future.

Transformation and organizational reform are never easy and the chain of ART COMMERCE
impossibilities sometimes seems endless, but if there is one clue for effective
stakeholder management, it must be finding creative package deals. It works
once in a while; why not now, this time, for 798? ART PRODUCTION

INDUSTRIAL PRODUCTION

1955 1990 1995 2000 2005 2010 2014


A project by:

MARS+MORE have initiated a highly ambitious and


innovative project in order to plan the next step of MARSMORE798
Beijings renowned 798 Art District - to be presented
during Beijing Design Week.

Friday 26 September, Gallery ALL, Beijing 926, Gallery ALL


1.30pm: 30x30 Talks 1.30pm: 30x30
Consecutive 15-minute presentations by eight participat- 815
ing teams of architects and experts.

927
Saturday 27 September, 10am - 5pm, Gallery ALL : -
Gallery ALL,BEIJING

10am - 5pm: Live session, Planning as Relay!
Clash of Minds...from 240 to 60 ideas in 420 minutes! 798

5pm: Panel Planning as Relay 5pm


Moderated by Christine de Baan Christine de Baan

7pm: Magazine Launch Party / Bubbles + BBQ! 7pm /


798 and the Creative Cluster Conundrum 798 and the Creative Cluster Conundrum
Urban China Magazine no. 67 67MARS + MORE
Guest edited by MARS + MORE

Sunday 28 September, UCCA, BEIJING 928


3pm: CITY = MUSEUM 3pm:=
Presentation of the holistic strategy for 798. 798
Speakers include David Gianotten (OMA), Fei Jun
David Gianotten (OMA), (
(CAFA), Jonathan Woetzel (McKinsey),
Liu Yingjiu (Rockbund Art Museum) and more. ), Jonathan Woetzel () (
Moderated by MARS + MORE )
MARS + MORE

Participating Teams:
OMA OMA
McKinsey
HybridSpaceLab HybridSpaceLab
CAFA | Moujiti
Rockbund Art Museum
XML Architecture Research Urbanism XML
AIM Architecture
This Magazine and the City = Museum project have been made WAI Think Tank WAI Think Tank
possible through the support of Creative Industries Fund NL and
the Embassey of the Kingdom of the Netherlands in Beijing:

=
In association with:
Huang Rui | Thinking Hands
For more information /

cityismuseum.com
info@ cityismuseum.com
www.M-A-R-S.asia
www.more-architecture.com

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