Showing posts with label Shanghai University. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Shanghai University. Show all posts

Painting, Laughter and an Eagerness to Adapt

By Tamalin Baumgarten MFA 2015


The days have begun to meld together as we’ve settled into a routine here in Shanghai. We spend most of our time in the studio painting in preparation for our group show which opens July 1st. With four weeks to paint and a large space to fill, we are challenged to make big paintings. The studio has become our home. Our dorm is a twenty minute taxi ride to the studio, so we sleep most nights in the studio on cots we bought at Walmart, occasionally venturing back to do laundry and shower. The inconvenient distance between dorm and studio has proven to be a blessing. Dana, Ryan, Arc and I have grown close, and because of this, our paintings have benefitted. With concentrated time in the studio together, we listen to podcasts about art history, engage in conversations about artists we are drawn to, and hold late-night group critiques of our current paintings. Most importantly, we’ve had the time to digest and discuss what we learned from our first year at the Academy. We share what we’ve learned, we even argue about it—to learn even more. 

Our guide, Wang Yi, is a joy to get to know. We visited his studio last week. His paintings blew us away, reminding us of Michael Borremans and Adrian Ghenie. He took us to an art fair, the YUZ Museum, and his friend's gallery called Ming Gallery, where his work is currently showing. We've been learning about the art market in China and how the collectors only buy old art that has already proven its value. People buy contemporary art for lower prices, not as investments, but for the purpose of decorating their homes. Also, there isn't much of a market for international art yet. People here buy art that they are familiar with and are less likely to branch out into purchasing more conceptually based artwork. 

The food here is a highlight. Our routine late dinners on the street excite us most. We walk across the campus along the dimly lit, tree-lined road, past the coy pond, through the finely mowed field, over the river bridge to a bustling outdoor array of food vendors. Dozens of venders grill and serve food on sticks. We enjoy trying new things and often order more than enough. We find amusement in each other's eating habits and trying to communicate with the vendors for Arc and Dana to avoid pork, and nothing spicy for Dana, and "is there pork in the sauce?" or "what's the little speck of meat on the broccoli?" Ryan will eat anything! He enjoys spice to the point of severe pain, and if we can't finish something or don't like it, we pawn it off onto him. It's quite hysterical.

Along with our infrequent showers, we have become comfortable with a less sanitary lifestyle. Arc and I discovered our go-to lunch spot where we find the best kung pow chicken. Yesterday, while eating the dish, I found a little cockroach on my chopstick. Arc and I looked at each other, he wrapped the little guy up in a napkin, and we continued eating—enjoying it just the same. That evening, Ryan was sipping on his tea and reached in his mouth to remove a little long-horn beetle. We gathered around inspecting the beetle as Ryan continued enjoying his tea. None of us have gotten sick yet. We find laughter through our journey of learning a new perspective. 
 
Today, Mr. Xu took us out with Wang Yi and a couple other Shanghai University faculty to a fancy lunch. We ate in a room to ourselves around a lazy suzan. The waiters brought in dish after dish, and when we were certain it must be the last dish, they’d bring in five more—a couple dozen dishes in total to sample. Despite the language barrier, we all filled our bellies and laughed together—understanding enough through body language and a common delight in the abundance of food. 

So far, our experience in Shanghai has been fulfilling—full of painting and laughter and an eagerness to adapt and to learn from each other.


###

On May 26, four Academy students departed New York for a six-week residency in Shanghai. Tamalin Baumgarten, Dana Kotler, Arcmanoro Niles, and Ryan Schroeder (all members of the MFA class of 2015) will share their experiences here throughout the summer.

The Final Chapter: China Residency, Part 8

By Zoe Sua-Kay (MFA 2014)



After a week in the Chinese capital and having soaked up some of the local culture and scene close to our hotel, we decided it was time to put our tourist hats on and see some of global tourism’s most famous sites – The Forbidden City, the Summer Palace and of course, the Great Wall of China.


The Forbidden City

Probably somewhat unwisely, we chose one of the hottest days we’d yet experienced to explore the Palace. Without trees and with it’s relentless expanses of  brick courtyards we were rarely offered any relief from the glaring sun as we trekked the 3,153 feet from the entrance (Meridian Gate) to the Imperial Gardens at the very end… and back again.
 

Forbidden City, view from the Meridian Gate.
The Hall of Supreme Harmony

Girl with Chinese head wear
Elliot Purse strikes a pose in the Forbidden City

The Summer Palace


The Summer Palace was a nice contrast to the flat, scorching and exposed layout of the Forbidden City. Located forty minutes from central Beijing by subway, the Palace is arranged over leafy hills and at the bank of the large Kunming Lake.

Lady in an old-fashioned Chinese outfit inside the Summer Palace

View from interior
The following day, and having delayed what we had deemed to be the climax of our cultural education in China, the time had finally come to undertake the epic experience of taking a hike along the Great Wall of China.




Elizabeth Shupe, Elliot Purse and James Adelman on the Great Wall


And what a hike it was!

We had the good fortune of visiting a part of the wall that had only just recently been opened to the public. Thus, we hardly encountered any tourists outside of the group we had gone with. We were able to explore the ancient, unreconstructed sections and happily take photographs without the reputed hoards of tourists at other, more well-known sections of the wall. 
However, this also meant that we had to be on guard of the loose, uneven terrain of the ancient wall. Without any kind of railing (or safety precautions of any kind at all), the possibility of miss-stepping and falling off the steep, isolated wall was imminent. But we made it.


Elliot conquers the wall
Beth conquers the wall
 
I conquer the wall

James conquers the wall

Last weekend in China


 


Our final weekend in China was spent with Ian, our guide on the Beijing side. He took us around CAFA’s/China Academy of Fine Art’s museum of ‘Excellent Student Work’. And excellent it was - we all left a little mind boggled (a.k.a downright intimidated) at the quality of work these Chinese undergraduates had produced.

This was followed by lunch down the road from Ai Weiwei’sStudio.


Ai Wei Wei’s studio, exterior view

And finally, a trip to Beijing’s famous 798 Art District, for an opening at Pace Beijing.




A word of sincere thanks.

On behalf of James, Elliot, Beth and myself, I would like to thank everyone who has made this trip possible. It has, with all honesty, been a life changing experience.

While we have now all finally separated to our respective homes, I think my fellow residency compatriots will appreciate the quote I quite simply could not have signed off without:

I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. 
Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion
I watched c-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate. 
All those... moments... will be lost in time, like] tears... in... rain.
- Roy Batty



On May 25, four Academy students arrived in China to start a two-month residency in Shanghai and Beijing. James AdelmanElliot PurseElizabeth Shupe and Zoe Sua-Kay (all members of the class of 2014) will share their experiences here throughout the summer.

The Colors of Beijing: China Residency, Part 7



Today it rained. We woke up to the sound of the water gently swishing down the gutter outside the window and drip-dripping off of the roof.  When I stepped outside of the hotel to make my way to breakfast, it seemed Beijing was still half asleep, curled into itself like a contented house cat  The rain continued to drizzle down from the sky.

In the early afternoon we took the subway to the National Art Museum, grateful to have an indoor activity to do on a day such as this. We walked through an exhibit of delicate ink paintings done in a traditional style. Each showed incredible skill- deft handling of line combined with subtle washes of grey tones rendered both the sweep of great vistas and the tiny intricacies of a human face with precision. Most of the paintings were immense, and they filled the gallery with their presence, requesting respect and silence. Their fine grey gradations and the blurry edges where the wet ink had soaked into the rice paper put me in mind of the world I had woken up in that morning- a moist, monochromatic world, where all sounds were hushed by the steady drip of the water from the sky.




Yes, Beijing could be that way, I supposed. But it had surprised me when I had woken up this morning to find the vibrant city dampened and quiet. I had only spent a few days here, and yet I felt that I had a good grasp on the character of the place- colorful and bustling, filled with shouts and laughter, cooking smells, and countless rickshaws. The city of Beijing was a wrinkled, knowing smile on the face of China, reflecting its deep history and good nature. But today, a more reserved and stately Beijing was revealed. It was a new color to add to the palette I had been composing in my head, a palette of all the colors of this ancient city.

It had started in the Forbidden City, my mental palette, when I had noticed the specific yellow of all of the roof tiles. It was a mustardy yellow, verging on gold, and it stretched across the Forbidden City, crowning almost every building. My guide book had said that the yellow color had belonged to the emperor, and no one else had been allowed to decorate their buildings with it. I had thought about what power that must be, to own a color. As an artist, I must say I was a tad bit jealous.

The next day, on my way to breakfast, I stumbled across a store selling lucky cats. They came in different colors- red, pink, blue, green, yellow, and black. Each color meant something different, and although I couldn’t discern what they meant, I knew they were all auspicious. The round smiling faces of the cat figurines in so many different hues cheered me, and it was then that I truly started paying attention to the colors of the city.



The maroon curtains of the bicycle rickshaws matched almost exactly the rich maroon of the buildings at the opulent Lama Temple. Gold and bronze Buddha statues peered out from shop windows, and gold decorated the eaves of the concubine’s quarters in the Forbidden City. White marble gleamed on bridges where the railings were carved to look like clouds. The same color was more austere in a statue of the philosopher and religious leader Confucious.  Bright green and blue paintings of dragons adorned wooden gates. The sky was a paler shade of blue, the trees lining the streets a more lively green.

Also green was the bodies of two crickets in cages that I heard before I saw, in a small courtyard off of a narrow hutong alley. There were orange carp in a bowl, glinting in the sunlight, and a paler orange cat who shared tea with me in a quiet teahouse. There was a black bird in front of a convenience store, its leg shackled to a leather cord that was tied to its perch. The acid pink of plastic lotus flowers in a garland contrasted with the soft blush of fresh peaches that were being sold in the very same store.  Truly, this was a city made of color.

But the color that spoke the loudest here was red.  A bright red like oxygenated blood. In the form of giant red silk tassels it hung in nearly every shop front window. Red lanterns hung in the trees over a shopping street, marching in straight lines above the shoppers. The same red was on cartons of Double Happiness cigarettes, and in the fresh peppers siting in a bowl in front of a Sichuan restaurant, even on the Chinese flag itself that snapped in the breeze above Tiananmen Square. Red was the color of luck, and good fortune.

I struggled to remember that fact as Zoe and I huddled under her umbrella on the short trek back from the subway station after the art museum. We were talking about how much was riding on our next year at the Academy, how simultaneously excited and terrified we were. The red lanterns in front of a restaurant had turned dark and saggy in the rain, I noticed. I felt a little like that myself.

But then I remembered a piece of graffiti I had seen on my way to breakfast that morning. It had been written in English, black spray-paint on a grey concrete wall, and was just as colorful as the morning had promised it be- in other words, completely devoid of chroma. But I remembered the message. “KEEP ON PAINTING” it had said, with an underline for emphasis. “Ok then, I will.” I thought to myself.

Keep on painting. Its all any of us can really do. But in a world as colorful as this one, those words promise adventure.






On May 25, four Academy students arrived in China to start a two-month residency in Shanghai and Beijing. James AdelmanElliot PurseElizabeth Shupe and Zoe Sua-Kay (all members of the class of 2014) will share their experiences here throughout the summer.

Satisfying the Inner Tourist: China Residency, Part 6

By Elliot Purse (MFA 2014)


After a long, post-opening, post-artist talk, post-John Jacobsmeyer hang out, post-spa weekend, all of us subconsciously decided some down time was due. Monday and Tuesday were spent mostly entertaining ourselves and taking care of all the little things we’d put off over our eventful weekend (i.e. laundry, shopping, and getting a little more time to take advantage of our great studio here at SHU). However, by the time Wednesday rolled around, we were totally rejuvenated and ready to embrace our inner tourists. So we jumped on the subway and headed into the city center. 

Contrary to the familiar grime of the New York MTA, the Shanghai subway was impeccably clean and made for an easy ride into the city. Once in the city, we headed over to the Bund area to take in the incredible skyline of Pudong and hitched a ride on the infamous “sight-seeing tunnel,” a light/laser side-show-esque tunnel under the Huangpu River.

When we exited the futuristic trolley that had taken us through the tunnel, we found ourselves right around the corner from the Oriental Pearl Tower. Staring up at the giant pink pearlescent orbs, we decided to go see Shanghai from above by making our way up to the viewing decks.


Somewhere around 265 meters above the ground, the view was stunning and uniquely unnerving due to the glass floor on the second observation deck. I noted that it actually felt similar to seeing the mountainranges on our earlier excursion. While the buildings certainly were not as mammoth as mountains, the sheer expanse of highrises receding into the distance was just as sublime.

 
We made are way down, grabbed some nearby food, and continued our journey over to the Old City. The Old City of Shanghai is the original urban development of the city center. I was told that some of the buildings are between four and 500 years old. Of course, like the rest of Shanghai, the incredible architecture of the past is now completely infused with modern shops, and it is a bustling maze of streets. 


After we had walked and seen as much as we could, bought some gifts while perusing a few markets and tended to some hard-earned blisters, Wang Yi met us for a quick dessert as his local favorite dessert cafe. Now, I’m not a huge sweets person, but when my plate of fudge hit the table, you can bet it didn’t take long for me become a sweets person. The night concluded with an evening walk through the French Concession, another district of Shanghai, and a few drinks at a jazz club: inner-tourist satisfied.

After de-installing our show, exploring the city a little more on foot, visiting the South Bund Soft Material Market (an incredibly cheap tailoring market), we also got a chance to have dinner with Yi, his grandparents, parents and extended family. The meal once again was an incredible spread of food, which we eagerly and thankfully devoured. 


After all this, the rest of the weekend was spent, most importantly in my eyes, with a few last nights with the incredible group of international friends who so warmly shaped our experience on campus and in the city. Much love to Roland, Wen, John, Sylvia, Ray, Marta, Kamal, Agata, Anna, Peter, Sara, Elke, Rory, Andy, Alec, Iona, Tania, Dasha, the Kate’s and Mateo (and this goes without saying of course: Wang Yi!).      

On May 25, four Academy students arrived in China to start a two-month residency in Shanghai and Beijing. James Adelman, Elliot Purse, Elizabeth Shupe and Zoe Sua-Kay (all members of the class of 2014) will share their experiences here throughout the summer.

Escapades into the Wild: China Residency, Part 4

By Zoë Sua-Kay

After three weeks centered largely around the Shanghai vicinity, the time had come to be whisked away into the Chinese unknown. Traveling with a busload of Chinese printmaking students and several members of the Shanghai University faculty, we drove for nine hours out of the city and through some of the most breathtaking scenery we had ever come across.
 

View from the road on the way to the village.




Left to right: Elizabeth Shupe, James (Bond) Adelman, Elliot Purse, Zoë Sua Kay, Ted Schmidt

At around four in the afternoon, after having driven through village after village and mountains decked with age-old rice paddies and freely roaming livestock (and yes the farmers really do wear those infamous straw hats), we finally arrived at our destination. The village, called Suichang, looked different from the ones we’d passed on the way. It has the feel of a village newly aware of its aesthetic and touristic potential. There is a freshly varnished bridge crossing a stream that leads to the shallow river we had followed on the drive. The old watermills scattered along the drive--though clearly no longer functional--emphasize the historical and natural feel of the place. 


We were greeted by a quiet but endlessly welcoming man with whom we shake hands and offer smiles and an embarrassingly mispronounced "Ni hao." We then followed his usherings into what turned out to be the front room of his home. On the table, there were several large bowlfuls of a small round fruit with a rough, spiky skin. Following the example of some of the others, we dug in. Delicious doesn’t even begin to describe it. Much to our disappointment, no one could figure out the fruit's name in English (please feel free to enlighten us if you can!), but throughout the remainder of our trip, our various hosts continued offering giant basketfuls of them to us--even as I tried to buy toilet paper at the local grocery store. 


Little red fruit
After drinking tea under a mercifully shady tree, we were again ushered into a different room, and it was explained to us that the friendly man we had greeted earlier was in fact the head of the village, and we were currently dining in his house as his guests. 

And so we ate … and ate … and ate. And we drank. Oh, how we drank some of the most delicious locally brewed plum wine. (Each of us was later given small bottles to take back to Shanghai – but they never made it past our last stop in Hang Zhou)


Left to right (top to bottom): Wang Yi, Elizabeth Shupe, Ted Schmidt, James Adelman, Zoë Sua Kay, Elliot Purse, Head of village, grandson and wife.

It’s hard to describe in words what Chinese hospitality is like. It is something that must be experienced. Needless to say, all of us from the Academy were humbled beyond words at how well they treated us and made us feel welcome-- us, four unworthy, disheveled and somewhat unsuspecting art students from New York, dining and drinking with the head of the village and a handful of other local leading men about as far away as possible from anything we know.


View from the back of the village head’s house
The next day was much in the same vein. We were given a tour of the village and told some of its history. A famous Chinese artist had lived and worked there until his passing in 2010. He had left the village a large sum of his wealth that is currently being used to revamp the village in the hopes of turning it into a tourist destination. My personal feelings about this are, as you can imagine, divided. 

After the tour we went to a neighboring village for tea, watermelon and more little red fruit.


Left to right: Elliot Purse, Archie, Zoë Sua Kay, Elizabeth Shupe.

Here we learned a rather astonishing fact: We are the first westerners to come to this region since the Second World War, when an American pilot crash-landed and was nursed to recovery by the locals. We are also, as it happens, the second group of westerners to visit the region -- EVER.

Our gracious host then told us some incredibly moving words about how we must stay in contact, how now that we have met we will always be together in our hearts. He said we now have the opportunity to educate our respective cultures and must work to improve relations between our two worlds. I fail to do justice to his speech, but all of us--James, Elliot, Beth and I--were moved and humbled and tried in our clumsy English language to return the sentiment as best we could.

The following day we said our goodbyes. I will never forget the moment when I turned to bid farewell to one of the ladies who had been so busy accommodating our every need. I saw her eyes were full of tears. It’s a strange feeling when two people from such different cultures have had such a huge impact on each other yet cannot communicate in any other way other than simple smiles and gestures.

Next up:

Boat ride to next destination

James named mayor of a small island in the lake.
Upon arrival at the following town, and after having tea at the local government building with one of the town’s politicians, we were ushered once more into a car driven by a man with a rather frivolous attitude about handling his vehicle. After a good 50-minute drive largely consisting of trying not to vomit (Beth), we landed here ...



... which looks like this at 6am.

 

Walking along the mountain trail. Left to right: Elliot Purse, Mr Xu,
James Adelman, Elizabeth Shupe, Wang Yi and Zoë Sua Kay.

We then learned some skills in traditional Chinese painting (at least James and Elliot did):


The following day we headed to Hang Zhou. Exhausted, we spent the last night in an amazingly comfortable hotel after dining at a local restaurant in the artist district with some of Wang Yi’s painter friends. After dinner, the evening became a marathon of studio visits, with each artist more eager to show his work than the last. Ted Schmidt, much to our astonishment, outdid us all by keeping on his feet and critiquing the work well up until midnight. (Well, the last hour was a bit more like hounding a poor young calligrapher who didn’t speak any English about the secrets of his trade. But still. Respect.) 
  

The following day was the last of our five-day trip, for which I have five words: Tea, bullet train, totally spent.  

 



We finally arrived back to our dorms at the Shanghai University Campus.

On May 25, four Academy students arrived in China to start a two-month residency in Shanghai and Beijing. James Adelman, Elliot Purse, Elizabeth Shupe and Zoe Sua-Kay (all members of the class of 2014) will share their experiences here throughout the summer.