The Serious Post -- Art, China, the Environment, and the Meaning of Life

I promised a more serious post, and I spent a lot of time this weekend thinking about what to write about. I found some inspiration today when I visited the Shanghai Art Museum. I had the afternoon free (the 5 people staying for the whole year had to go get a medical exam, so the 3 of us just doing a semester got free time), so I went on a solo-excursion. Before I launch into my main topic—which is, in case this long intro is making you antsy, what I’ve observed in my little time here about China and the environment—I just want to say that so far I think my favorite thing about my gap year is the me-time. One of the reasons I took a year off was to create some head-space for myself, and this afternoon was one luxurious stretch of Abby-on-Abby bonding time. There is something deeply peaceful about having an afternoon to yourself; I was able to chart my own course, walk where I wanted, think about anything that occurred to me, idle in a park, move at my own pace, and it was lovely. One of the things that occurred to me as I was enjoying my own company, however, was that the luxurious me-time is also the most dangerous part of a gap year; over the course of the last two weeks, I have found myself becoming very self-centered in every sense of the word. I worry so much about how everything around me is contributing to “my experience,” and concentrate almost exclusively on what I’m learning and feeling, what I want to do, and how to make the most of my time. I think part of this self-centeredness is just me adjusting to a different pace and setting and purpose than I have had for the past four years. I’ve set a goal for myself to try to become self-aware rather than self-focused. My gap year has a goal! Woah.

OK. That was quite philosophical and heady. Back to China and the environment…not that that topic is any less heady.

Three of the exhibits I visited in the Shanghai Art Museum—which is housed, in case you were wondering, in the beautiful old club house of the British horse racing club in Shanghai—made me reflect in different ways on the Chinese view of and relationship with nature. The first exhibit was very modern and edgy; the painter claims man’s relationship with the environment and ecological balance as his inspiration and subject, yet his paintings are splotches of bright colors, incomprehensible shapes and splatters, which, while evoking contrast and movement, did not particularly draw my mind to the environment. His paintings did broadcast emotion, which I guess was their purpose. They were angry and energetic, often jarring and discordant. Here was a man who did not see or paint a harmonious relationship between man and nature. Instead, he painted imbalance, and this imbalance clearly made him angry.

The second exhibit was the complete opposite, featuring classical style Chinese scrolls painted by a modern painter with exquisite likenesses of carp, insects, birds, and flowers. I found this exhibit “nice”: boring in its prettiness, slightly engaging because of the painter’s skillful mechanics. What I did find interesting about the exhibit, however, was that, interspersed between the classical depictions of harmonious nature, were scrolls featuring city streets, Communist monuments, and people doing everyday tasks, all done in the same meticulous style as the natural subjects. There was no commentary with the exhibit, no justification for the lay-out. Indeed, it’s definitely possible that the scrolls were arranged with complete indifference. Even if it was unintentional, I find it interesting that these settings and subjects completely removed from nature were placed side by side with those very traditional scrolls depicting nature. Does this say anything about the Chinese attitude towards nature? Perhaps not. But in the context of the next exhibit, I found it very interesting.

This last exhibit was my favorite, and also featured scrolls. These scrolls, however, carried some of the discordance and anger of the first exhibit; they were painted with slashes of black and red, with splotches of other colors here and there. Often, the colored splotches resembled light bulbs, and the stripes and shades of black and other colors felt, to me, very industrial, like scaffolding or the windows of an apartment complex. In the midst of the darkness and chaos, or hiding at the edges, were gaps where the creamy white of the scroll showed through. In those little pocket of white, the artist had painted—in the same meticulous, classical style as the other scroll painter—little carp or sparrows. Nature peeking through, in some cases almost observing the industrial, modern chaos, in all cases on the verge of being swallowed up. I loved these scrolls, as I felt they integrated the anger and despair of the first exhibit and the awareness of nature and Chinese tradition of the second.

But what do these three exhibits mean in regards to China’s relationship with nature? Well, I can’t claim to give any kind of comprehensive account of “China and the Environment.” Nor can I comment on industrial China, China on the world stage, or even any kind of universal mindset towards the environment. What I do think these exhibits showed is a Chinese sense of ambivalence about the environment and nature. Not indifference, as is so often depicted in the Western media, but ambivalence. Nature is something to be sympathized with, to be protected, as the first artist showed; it is something whose beauty is to be appreciated, but in much the same way we appreciate fine architecture and modernity—for its balance, and for how it pleases us, as the second artist showed. And finally, nature is something which is vulnerable, but which cannot be completely separated from our human society, as the third artist showed. I don’t think any of these views is completely dominant; nor do I think the museum meant for these three exhibits to have any common themes, I’m just extrapolating here. But this museum visit coupled with my observations from the last few weeks made me do a lot of thinking this afternoon. The actions the Chinese government is taking to curb consumption and promote sustainability reflect, mostly, the second perspective, in that they are all motivated by human concerns. The government has banned or placed a heavy tax on plastic bags in supermarkets and other large stores; it is promoting the building of sustainable buildings (meaning energy- and water-conserving buildings). These actions come out of a sense of necessity, and nationalism. China has so many people that conserving water and energy is a necessity, rather than a moral issue. China builds more LEED-certified buildings every year than any other country, because of this necessity, but also because the government and business community see green technology as something China can make itself the best at, and use to gain prestige in the international community. Similarly, my host family is obsessed with turning out lights, not using the air conditioning, and not using hot water because energy and utilities are expensive, not because of environmental concerns (or at least they haven’t expressed any environmental concerns to me). Does it matter why they act this way? No, because the effect is the same. But is it enough, from an environmental perspective? Probably not. But we in the United States, with all of the energy and guilt we expend on worrying about the environment, don’t seem to be doing much better. My Chinese family’s carbon footprint is so much smaller than anyone I know in America, even the most environmentally conscious people. They don’t own a car and walk, bike, or take public transportation everywhere, don’t have heating in their home, don’t own a dryer, don’t fly often or at all, and are conscientious about their appliances and electricity. They don’t recycle, don’t have solar panels, don’t buy carbon credits, and don’t eat organic or local food—but does it matter?

I think that the environmental “balance” we need to seek now is a balance between American environmental angst and moral questioning and this Chinese practicality. One without the other is not enough; we Americans may love the trees, but we can’t seem to give up any parts of our lifestyle because we feel that we have no direct impetus to do so, other than our moral qualms. And as the Chinese become richer, they may abandon their current frugality, with disastrous results. Going to the museum gave me a glimpse the complexity of the Chinese way of thinking about the environment—just like the American way of thinking about the environment. We have our Manifest Destiny attitudes, our Romanticism, our rural co-existence, our urban indifference, the Hummer and the Prius. Looking at artists may not be the best way to come to any conclusions about a society and where it is headed, but they are a good example of what a culture is thinking, and how it processes change. I have so many other thoughts about Chinese history and how this all plays in (“Topics” with Ms. Wade…a year later, and it’s still so awesome); about Communism and Confucius and the Chinese tradition of seeing the natural wrapped up with the human, but this post is so long, and I obviously haven’t sorted any of this out in my head. I hope this post wasn’t too muddled (or long!). Let me know what you think.

Other goings-on, quickly…I saw my cousin/godmother Katharine Lister on Sunday! She was in town with Senator Maria Cantwell, her boss. We went into the city center and grabbed a snack; it was so great to see her! Saturday I went to the Shanghai Urban Exhibition Center, which is basically the city museum; it’s all about the Shanghai of the future and all the modern stuff they’re building (when I started fomenting all these thoughts). Monday we visited the Sunshine Home for children with cerebral palsy and other disabilities. I think I want to go back on my own, because these kids were so kind and welcoming, and clearly ecstatic to have visitors. There were so patient with us, as they helped us make strawberries out of beads (it’s super cool, but I felt pretty helpless/incompetent as they skillfully guided us through the process). It’s a little shocking, however, that these kids—many of whom seemed to have just physical disabilities with no mental problems at all—must live in a home; our teacher told us that the disabled are much less integrated into society in China than in America. Maybe a topic for another post?

Sending all my good wishes and love to you back in America! I really am having a great time, and I can’t wait to get into the swing of classes later this week.