Dr. Victor TSE Chun-yan, left, holding a bottom board and checking with Mr. CHOI Cheung-sau, owner of Choi Fook Kee.

Translator’s Foreword: This article was translated for the Friends of the Art Museum, CUHK, Ltd. for a visit to Choi Fook Kee Instrument Makers, Co. on 23rd March, 2013. Opinions expressed in this article do not necessarily represent the view of TorGuqin. Top photo courtesy Juni Yeung on the day of the visit. Translation and reposting rights granted by the author.

The Tradition of Qin-carving in Hong Kong

Ying-Wai Ng  吳英卉

Translated by Juni Yeung

Hong Kong – a tiny island situated on the southern end of China’s frontier, after experiencing British colonial rule from the mid-19^thcentury to the end of the 20^thcentury, has developed a cultural and spiritual divide with the motherland. Its own mainstream culture has largely been dominated by Westernization, and traditional Chinese culture and arts have been long situated on the fringe. Compared with Western music, Chinese folk music was considered second-tier, but luckily this has seen gradual improvement since the handover in 1997.

Hong Kong qin players were few and far between prior to the 1940’s, the only record can be traced largely to Master Yuet-Kai (Yuexi, 1879-1965), founder of Man Fut Temple in Shatin, who travelled down to Hong Kong in 1938 to spread Buddhism in the area. During the tumultuous times of the 1940’s and 50’s, numerous scholars and literati travelled through or to Hong Kong, including qin players Shen Caonong (1892 – 1972), Tsar Teh-yun (Cai Deyun, 1905-2007) and Xu Wenjing (1894-1975) from Zhejiang, Jao Chung-I (Rao Zongyi, 1917- ) from Chaozhou, Lo Ka-Ping (Lu Jiabing, 1884-1980) and Zheng Jianhou from Zhongshan, Rong Xinyan from Panyu and so forth. It is from then on that Hong Kong’s qin culture flourished especially through the lifework of Mr. Xu Wenjing.

Mr. Xu was the cornerstone of qin carving in Hong Kong, and the author will summarize his life here, especially focusing on his learning and teaching experiences, the transmission of his knowledge to his successor Choi Cheung-Sau, and from there how a qin-carving research class/study group was born which is active and growing today, even after 18 years.

Xu Wenjing – The founding master of Hong Kong qin-carving tradition

Xu Wenjing was born in 1894 in Linhai, Zhejiang, courtesy name Jingzhai, the third of six siblings. He was talented and mastered every art he studied, including seal-making, ancient etymology, qin playing and qin making, calligraphy, painting, literature and poetry, and the making of seal clay (the red cinnabar paste used as ink on Chinese seals). His own brand labeled “Zhini Shanguan Seal clay” is widely acclaimed among painters and calligraphers. His older brother Yuanbai (1893-1957) was a guqin master of the Zhejiang school, and a master of Chinese music theory in addition to qin performance and qin making. Master Wenjing’s qin skills were also acquired from his older brother, and later from his brother’s Buddhist master Daxiu Shangren.

The Xu brothers, with their shared passion, once lived by the shores of the West Lake in Hangzhou, writing poems, creating paintings, playing chess, and even playing and making qins together. The two also attended the events of the Jinyu Qin Society in Shanghai in 1933 to 1934. In 1935, the two siblings moved to Nanjing along with their work, and established the Qingxi Qin Society promoting the instrument through regular gatherings, teaching, and local radio broadcasts. Unfortunately, with the declaration of the Sino-Japanese War in 1937, the society was disbanded under the fire and smoke of conflict.

Xu Wenjing and his family fled south to the British colony of Hong Kong to take refuge from the turmoil in the 40’s. From this historical turning-point, it can be said, that the art of qin-making was transmitted south. At the age of 45, Master Wenjing continued displaying his talents in the qin, poetry, calligraphy, painting, seal carving and paste-making, including establishing his Zhini Shanguan to continue his plans to further refine his quality seal clay paste.

Southbound literati grew rapidly in number in the 1950’s, adding a strong cultural atmosphere to a rapidly industrializing Hong Kong, of which Master Wenjing has definitely left his mark. Perhaps due to nostalgia for the elegant gatherings of the scholarly arts in the mainland, he gathered qin collectors, calligraphers, painters, writers, thespians, musicians, vocalists, cultural and education experts under one roof, all taking turns to express their talents with various instruments, voices, and brushes. Talent shone through every seam and music circled the pillars for a period of time.

However, amidst the prosperity, Master Wenjing could not help but feel growing anxiety, as his eye ailments worsened and his wife returned to the mainland having not grown accustomed to Hong Kong life. It was during this increasingly difficult and dark period of his life, that he handed one of the qins awaiting repairs under his care to the “Hong Kong Choi Fook Kee Instrument Makers” nearby, and hence began his ties to Choi Cheung-Sau and many subsequent qin players.

Master Xu’s eyes failed to respond to medical treatment and he became completely blind by 1957. When he passed away at the age of 81 years old in 1975, he left behind a significant collection of works, including an anthology Xihu Baiyi (“Hundred memories of West Lake”, scribed by Mme. Tsar Teh-Yun), a seal-script magnum opus Guzhou Huibian (“Anthology of Ancient Seal-script Vocabulary”), seven self-crafted handmade qins, his tradition and artisanship of qin-making, and a collection of couplets collected in the Jingzhai Shi’er Qinming (“ Twelve qin inscriptions by Jingzhai”), displaying his dedication and insistence on the scholarly arts with a calm touch in the face of his own deprivation. Master Xu originally planned to make a dozen qins to match his planned twelve inscriptions in his Shi’er Qinming, but his plan never actualized past seven qins before he was incapacitated.

“Those who have come, hath gone with the yellow crane,” the author would like to take this chance to record a small vignette among qin fellows: a nameless qin (in the author’s own collection) collaboratively made by Master Xu Wenjing and his disciple Choi Cheung-Sau, as well as the qin Minghe (“Sounding Crane”) handcrafted by Master Xu Yuanbai and later passed down to Yao Bingyan and Yao Gongbai, once met in the study Jingrong Shuwu, a Qing dynasty building in Sha Tau Kok, on May 29, 2011. With time’s passing, the Xu brothers could meet again in spirit since their separation in 1940, seventy-one years ago!

Choi Cheung-Sau and “Choi Fook Kee Chinese & Western Instrument Makers Company”

Located in room 06 on the fifth floor of the Jockey Club Creative Arts Centre is “Choi Fook Kee Chinese and Western Musical Instrument Makers Company, the only instrument maker in Hong Kong producing guqins. The owner, Mr. CHOI Cheung-Sau, courtesy name Yiwen, is the sole transmitter of Xu Wenjing’s qin-carving artisanship.

Choi Fook Kee Makers now focus on the carving of qins, although before the 1970’s the shop focused on all kinds of Chinese and Western instruments. Therefore, most Chinese musicians in Hong Kong recognize this time-honoured brand, and even call the present owner “Choi Fook Kee,” as if the shop and the owner are one and the same entity. We disciples all call him “Choi Sifu,” and the walls of his workshop are filled with recognition plaques from all over Hong Kong, including one from the calligraphy master Zhong Tong that reads “A lineage of fine instrument makers,” a modest description of this workshop owner’s unique history that covers over three generations.

Sifu Choi’s grandfather Choi Chun-Fook was born in 1877 in Shantou, near Chaozhou Guangdong province, He was an artisan focusing on birdcages and other wooden arts and crafts. Because of his love for music he attempted to make various Teochew musical instruments. He founded a shop in 1904 named “Choi Fook Kee.” Due to its quality and attention to detail, his customer network expanded along the coast to Fujian, Shanghai, Beijing, and to Guangzhou, and even towards Singapore, Thailand and Vietnam. At the same time, Choi Chun-Fook trained his sons as the second generation of instrument makers, including Choi Wai-King (1903-1973), who was Sifu Choi’s father. His other sons, Choi Sui-Kam and Choi Sui-Ling established “Choi Sui Kee Instrument Makers, Company.”

Choi Wai-King had great plans. Just as his son Choi Cheung-Sau was born in 1934, he and his wife along with other children and several assistants moved to Hong Kong, where they set up in Central, the “Hong Kong Choi Fook Kee Instrument Makers, Company” (or “Hong Kong Choi Fook Kee” for short.) The original Choi Fook Kee in Shantou was still operated by Choi Chun-Fook and his other sons, until it was merged into the public-private Shantou Instrument Makers after 1949.

“Hong Kong Choi Fook Kee” struggled to survive those tumultuous years. The shop was closed during the Japanese occupation as Choi Wai-King and all of his staff farmed the mainland countryside. The factory restarted from scratch in 1945, and moved numerous times in the coming two decades. It is during this era that Xu Wenjing met Sifu Choi. In the early 1950’s, Hong Kong Choi Fook Kee moved to Junction Road in Kowloon City – which wasclose to Mr Xu’s residence. Xu, then suffering from fading vision, handed Hong Kong Choi Fook Kee a qin for repairs. Choi Cheung-Sau, who was then aged 18 or so, was sent to meet Master Xu to learn more about the instrument as the workshop had no experience of  qin construction.

Sifu Choi then frequented Mr. Xu’s house, and was illuminated by Xu’s collection of qins and calligraphic works, and by his intellect. He was fascinated by the anecdotes of qin lore as well as the music itself. He spent many of his after-school hours and even skipped school to spend time with Xu, and even pleaded with Mr Xu to take him as a disciple in qin-carving. Although Sifu Choi was supposed to be next in line for the workshop and was talented in the trade, Xu was hesitant. Nonetheless, Sifu Choi continued to take care of Mr. Xu and was finally granted his wish.

From then onwards, Sifu Choi would passionately bring his tools with him to learn the art of qin-carving in Master Wenjing’s home. Although Xu’s vision/eyesight by then was blurry at best, his hands were adept, and he clearly instructed Choi on the dimensions and shapes of qins, as well as various technical tips and tricks. Xu would then check Choi’s work by carefully feeling over every inch, checking the curvature, thickness, nayin sound poles and strips, and the downward dip by the bridge. He would knock the boards of the instrument with his knuckles to test its resonance, and measure its size with his fingers with due precision, which would impress any carpenter. Carpentry procedures such as sawing, drilling, shaving, and polishing were handled by the young Sifu Choi, while mortar and lacquer work was something Master Xu happily obliged. It was a pleasure just to hear Sifu Choi recount those days when their spirits connected and the arts were transmitted down to the next generation!

Master Xu only took two disciples in his lifetime, Choi Cheung-Sau for qin-carving and Teng Siu-Wah for qin playing. In the development of Hong Kong’s guqin tradition, his decision particularly with the former was influential in that Choi would become the master of qin-carving in Hong Kong, servicing qin players in Hong Kong and beyond. Particularly precious is his impartial, honest transmission of the arts, in establishing a qin-making research class, and then creating a batch of qin players who can also make and repair the instrument.

Choi Cheung-Sau and the Qin-carving Research Class

Sifu Choi’s success in acquiring qin-carving techniques meant that “Hong Kong Choi Fook Kee” added qins into the service repertoire of their workshop. In the early 1960’s, the qin was still a low-production item, while the workshop toiled away in the manufacturing of other instruments, particularly guitars. The workshop’s name was renamed “Choi Fook Kee Chinese and Western Instrument Makers” (“Choi Fook Kee Instruments” for short), and employed some staff. In 1969, the workshop moved to the Kwun Tong Industrial Complex, Ngau Tau Kok district, where Sifu Choi, then aged 35, oversaw production, a milestone marking the third generation of Choi Fook Kee. They finally settled into this location, and Sifu Choi saw this as his place of business for the next 39 years. According to Sifu Choi, he made over 200 qins himself, averaging 7 to 10 qins per year. What made Sifu Choi decide to pass on the art of qin-carving?

In 1992, just as things were smoothly progressing in business and family life, Sifu Choi, then aged 58, suffered an acute health problem, which required immediatesurgery. Facing this daunting turn in life and uncertain whether he could recover, Sifu Choi disbanded his workshop staff and focused on his health in a full-pitch struggle against his disease.

Luckily, due to early diagnosis and treatment, he recovered. Looking at his road in life, Sifu Choi pondered seriously the question of retirement, but felt he couldn’t abandon the workshop, which meant decades of his blood and sweat. As he faced this difficulty, several qin players and close associates decided to ask him again to teach them the art of qin-carving in order to transmit the craft to the next generation. Sifu Choi was so humble and did not immediately accept, but after repeated requests and encouragement from Mrs. Choi, “Choi Fook Kee Instruments” started its first qin-carving study group in July 1993.

The author was one of those fortunate enough to be among the first participants. We gathered every Saturday, studying how to make qins in 3-hour long sessions either in the morning or afternoon. Although a “class” in name, due to the varying rate of progress among the disciples, it was ultimately still a one-on-one tutelage from Sifu Choi himself. We each had our own workbench, and Sifu Choi would only accept qin players as students – his sincere wishes being to preserve the art. He wanted his disciples to see qin-carving as an artistic and personal pursuit for refinement rather than as a means to attaining material profit. He demands the same of both his male and female students, in his meticulous demands for every carpentry process involved: Sifu Choi would demonstrate in person, and we’d all reference from each other. Within the walls of the workshop, the relationship between peers and between master and student was amiable and full of laughter.

The class since its inception in July 1993 has been ongoing for 18 years and is still in process. During this time, the Kwun Tong Industrial Complex was reclaimed by the government, and Choi Fook Kee Instruments moved to its present location in 2008. For these 18 years, Choi Cheung-Sau has successfully taught the art to players such as YUNG Hak-Chi, TSE Chun-yan (Victor), Cheung Shun-yi, Lau Chor-wah, Sou Sitai, Wong Shu-chee, Ng Ying-Wai, Siu Yat-tong, Yu Kin-tim, Lee Chun-yuen, Au Siu-kam, Kwan Ga-hui, Ding Hong (of Macao), Lam Siu-ling, Ho Chun-wah, Tse Wai-keung, Kwok Gang-ming, Lau Ho-ying, Pun Tak-wing, Lam Tze-chiu, Tong Wan-hoi (of Macao), Fung Chi-hung, Yuen Chi-tai. Later students who are still able to produce their first qins include: Huang Bat-mui, Ho Wing-tze, Law Siu-lung, Zhong Siu-sang, Hung Kam-tung, Lie Leung-hing, Lee fei, Chan Kui-pang. Also, Lo Siu-wah is studying both qin and zheng construction at the same time from Sifu Choi, which totals 33 disciples to date. Together, they founded the “Choi Cheung-sau Qin-carving Association” in 2011.

The meaning and contribution to preserving Choi Cheung-Sau’s qin-carving art

Ever since Sifu Choi was accepted by Xu Wenjing in the 1950’s as a disciple of qin-making and spent decades to preserve the tradition of the craft, and then passing it onto the next generation without reservations, the implications and contributions are nothing short of profound. Although it is difficult to list them all, here are some of my personal ideas:

-          His generous act of opening a class to pass on the flame of his expertise was indeed an act rarely seen in China or even the whole world at the time or even today. His continued dedication even after these 18 years is a role model to us all.

-          Since the 1960’s, despite an increasingly Westernized society in Hong Kong, as well as the health crisis and the prospect of facing a workshop alone, Sifu Choi was still dedicated to the making of quality qins – this can be said to be a legend for the history of Hong Kong in the past half-century.

-          Sifu Choi was determined to study under Xu Wenjing, and persisted until he got through despite repeated refusals. His dedication and sincerity has in turn been reciprocated with a turn in his life that brought him to greatness. This spirit is a role model to the younger generation.

-          His care for fellow qin players and attitude toward qin-making as an art rather than a commercial pursuit is a respectable virtue scholar-literati. His selection of only qin players as students and equal treatment of the sexes reveal his pure spirit.

-          Against worldly common-sense, Sifu Choi openly divulged the secrets of his trade and abandoned the deviant practice of leaving trade secrets within the family. His unselfish act and broad spirit gains the respect and admiration of us all.

-          Sifu Choi, with his roots deeply settled in Hong Kong, faithfully completed his mission as a qin-carving master connecting the past and future. Yet, he is humble about his identity as a “qin maker”, and does not gloat in the name or prestige of a master. Sifu Choi would always recount how many of us were his faithful customers who then became friends, and then his students. The bonds of master and disciple – of both tutelage and friendship, are best represented in the bonds of Choi Fook Kee!

Thanks to Master Xu Wenjing and Sifu Choi Cheung-sau, a large group of Hong Kong and Macanese qin players were able to experience the satisfaction of qin-making, as well as the pleasure of playing an instrument crafted by their own hands. In the strokes of splitting, drilling, carving, and polishing, Sifu Choi has imparted to our generation a new understanding of our instruments, and made a small stride on the long road of tradition. Thus I wrote this essay to record the grace of Great Master Xu Wenjing and Master Choi Cheung-Sau, as well as the endeavouring spirit of my fellow peers.

From Music Companion 94, published Dec 2012 – magazine of the Hong Kong Institute of Music (since 1951)   www.hkmi.net

Author’s repost foreword: This essay is a continuation and completion of Gao and Cheng’s 2006 essay, which was one of the better attempts to ensnare the importance of the ongoing Hanfu Movement in its current context from a historical approach. While a social movement involves hundreds of aspects from thousands of faces, through this we hope to catch a glimpse of the opportunities presented to us in the times of social media and power of the individual, as compared to the industrialist times of our Republican forefathers.

Introduction: Chinese Dress, the double-colonized nation

            In the short days after the success of the Wuhan Uprising on October 10, 1911, Han Chinese citizens dazed in their newfound liberation: While some cut their hair queues, imposed by the Queue Order of 1644 to eliminate the sartorial and appearance practice of the Han, without a second of doubt, others clung onto the practice for decades into the Republic. A popular tale involved merchant Chen Shutong being challenged by a young student in Western dress why Chen was still wearing Manchu dress. Chen asked, “What dress are you wearing now?” When the student replied with the term foreign dress (waiguo fu), Chen coolly followed through, “Well, so am I.”

            Tales regarding the matter of dress in the Republic and identity litter across personal memoirs of the period, to which Gao Xialing and Cheng Xiaoming have specifically filtered and compiled into an argument with immediate relevancy and importance to our present moment since its publication in 2005. In their article published in the Journal of Xinzhou Teachers’ University[1], the authors argue that on the dawn of the Han ethnicity’s emancipation from Imperial Manchu rule, they have let a golden opportunity to restore their traditional appearance and sartorial practices slip by in favour of prescribing to a total Westernization program for the sake of the nation’s continued survival, and the Hanfu Movement since 2003 is a continuation of that continued dissatisfaction among those curious enough to question the dislocation between present Han dress customs to that of prior to Manchu conquest. However, references of this ‘continuing movement’ were nowhere to be found but in the abstract and the concluding statement. While the date of the article’s publication meant that the majority of social controversies have yet to occur, there was a total absence of any comparison between the proposed parallel phenomena between the early 20^th century hanfu revival and the 21^st century movement. Therefore, it is the mission of this paper to account for this unfilled gap in the Gao and Cheng endeavour, prior to analyzing the successes and shortcomings, blind spots and bottlenecks of the movements’ pundits over the two periods.

Contrary to intuitive belief that an anachronism a century ago would only be more ‘out of its temporal context’ in the present, I intend to argue that the concept of ‘antiquarian revivalism’ is misplaced and rather, the Confucian method of criticism by borrowing an idealized past is a constantly evolving means adapting to the times. Instead, the primary comparison should be in how the expression of Han nationalism and what encompassing values have changed over time in response to shifts in global events and external pressure to the Han identity.

Ex Machina: Communications technology and proliferation of ideas

The majority of counter-Qing revolutionaries rallied on the premise of “expelling the Tartars and restoring Huaxia”, which ethnic identity is based on the traditional Confucian doctrine of centrality. At the forefront of this discourse, the Queue Order of 1644 was publicized through reprints of various Revolutionary literature such as Accounts of the Ten Days of Yangzhou in Japan to Chinese overseas students. Utilizing this newfound freedom of the press, prominent student thinkers quickly wrote manifestos declaring their ideas of ethnic and national identity, and often followed by changes in sartorial practices to disassociate themselves with Manchu identity or rule. For example, existing photograph portraits of Qiu Jin and Zhang Taiyan depict them in Japanese kimono, a close cousin of Han Chinese clothing with similar crossed collars, and the biography of the latter outwardly expressed that his clothing was “Han”, as denoted by the customized Han character kamon insignia on his jinpei robe, now on display at the Zhang Taiyan Memorial Museum in Hangzhou[2]. Qian Xuantong claimed to have studied various Confucian notes on the specifications of the scholars’ shenyi robe and personally handmade it, and wore it to his Zhejiang office in 1912[3]. In an account of the liberation of Lishui, Zhejiang Province, a minor note recorded of two men in “two people “donned square caps, wore Ming ancient costume, hung Longchuan swords by their waists, and stood in the street to greet [the troops].”[4] The above incidents are recorded in form of newspaper editorials and personal memoirs of the person in question and at times direct witnesses, which were relegated as curios for certain individuals over the dinner table, rather than mass-oriented results such as retail of a clothing line or government edict on dress on the national level.

The impetus of the Hanfu movement one century later came under similar context as Chinese citizens discovered and utilized the information dissemination potential of the Internet, a wildly more liberal platform for idea exchange free of government censorship (or at least subverted in a cat-and-mouse game of evading automatic and human-based censors) than official news channels including newspapers, radio and television. Largely self-regulated by civilian administrators, early Bulletin Board Systems (BBSs) was the sole choice of modern bilateral communications and was seen as a spiritual successor to Democracy Walls in Chinese university campuses and public spaces but was gradually outlawed from 1980 onwards[5].

In contrast to manifestos such as of Chen Tianhua’s Alarm Bells or contemporaries listed in the Gao essay, the initial essay of the “Huaxia Restoration Movement” (the ‘underlying movement’ as claimed by the Hanfu movement’s place of inception, Hanwang) is more informational than proclamation. A blogger by the alias Huaxia Xiemai posted an essay titled “A Lost Civilization – Han Chinese Ethnic Clothing” outlining the history of Chinese fashion, relegating the disjoint of current “Chinese” ethnic clothing and traditional cross-collared robes to the Queue Order and the Qing dynasty and re-problematizing the issue[6]. As more people responded and joined in on the movement, responses subsequently appealed to emotion rather than factual presentation, such as Tianya Zai Xiaolou’s (alias for then-journalist and later Confucian Classics Reading Movement promoter Fang Zhexuan) essay “A Sacrificial Ritual with One Person (Yige Ren de Jili)”[7]. After this essay was publicized and ruminated on various Chinese portal sites, did popularity achieve critical mass and hanfu interest groups began to form in the major coastal cities.

The ease of access of digitally-printed articles and the bilateral nature of Web 2.0 and its discussion forums, guestbooks and social media meant the amount of material on a particular topic depended primarily on the willingness of a netizen to write or create, rather than the censorship and various levels of checks of traditional press and media. What is made up in quantity and expediency is sacrificed in quality – as a source of contention is publicized and proliferated in the reposting process, responses are scattered across major portals and forums, its leanings dependent on the political atmosphere of each venue.

For example, writer and scholar Yu Qiuyu wrote on his Sina blog and microblog on March 23, 2007[8] and subsequently published in the Beijing Daily on April 16, publically rejecting the “donning of Han dynasty clothing” as “already passé after brief debate in 1980’s,” claiming it as xenophobic protest and have personally led a counter-movement by “mobilizing the youngest Shanghai professors to don jeans…and suppressed them.“[9] While through official channels such as Jiangnan Times and Xinhua News criticisms came in the subsequent week of the official publication[10], their arguments are largely based on points in a response by hanfu activist Xin’er Haogu posted across several Hanist forums.[11] Reposts of abridged and unabridged versions of this story can be found dated October 2007 up to the present in 2012, as system hiccups and censorship purges lead to blog owners re-uploading backups with new timestamps[12]; meanwhile “thread bumping”, or the act of replying to a forum post in order to make the discussion topic visible on the top of the board’s list, actively ruminates the memory into the forefront of readers’ working memory.[13] This rote process, while at times obscuring the record and discussion at its true original source, has also contributed to preserving information and accounts in an unstable and impermanent medium, subject to total loss of content by institutional censorship and vandalism by malevolent saboteurs or even the author himself acting out of pressure or spite. After years of attacks and criticisms by netizens, Yu Qiuyu bent under pressure and wiped all content from his blog during late December 2009,[14] but its contents can still be found in relevant search engine queries that lead to mirror copies by netizens. As of 2012, Yu’s blog has been reinstated, along with all of its previous content.

 In contrast, record-keeping and preservation of hanfu-related deeds in the early 20^th century are fragmented and under-accounted for, and the source may often be unpublished or limited editions. For example, records regarding Qian Xuantong’s making and wearing a Confucian cap and shenyi robe can be found in his own anthology as well as Zhou Zuoren’s biography[15], but this vignette was nearly forgotten when Qian pondered on burning all of his early writings as he planned his anthology but decided to publish them under a mocking title instead. Outside of official or more reputed literati circles, accounts are much sparser: Gao’s Lishui stub example is archetypical of the period’s brevity: as no further information nor photographic evidence could be provided, nor do any other concurrent sources cite the situation, the incident is left as an obscure curio. Just beyond the temporal scope of Gao’s paper, a photograph recently discovered and shared in hanfu groups and discussion boards depicted the graduating sociology class of Fu Jen Catholic University in 1947 in cross-collared shenyi and Western mortarboards, but no textual information on how the design was conceived and actualized was ever given.

These examples show that even with changes in methods and technology in public communications, the ideal of restoring a ‘land of rites and rituals, nation of proper robes and headdress’ is an obscured if not repressed one, and through public pressure, records of such doings face danger of being eliminated from history, although modern methods expedite the process to a shorter timeframe, which may bring the topic to a wider or national attention  when it is compounded with enough relevant material and channels of expression to allow heterodoxy.

From “stage costumes” to a System of Objects

What is in “Han clothing” and “Chinese clothing”? Aside from the identity politics, the physical parameters of what constitutes the set of clothing that Ming loyalists have so desperately tried to preserve and restore? Through the use of classical literary Chinese, a basic understanding is achieved with terms such as yiguan “robes and headdress”, along with traces of pre-Qing Han clothing design found in paintings, or among the dress and costumes of Daoist and Buddhist clergymen and stage actors – exemptions in Qing society and the Queue Order. To exemplify the latter, Gao cites the semi-anonymous essay On the Origins of the Queue by alias Huangdi Hun, proposing that the new clothes of the Republic would be “modelled after the clothes after the martial roles in Tales of the Water Margin (Shui Hu Chuan) and Seven Wanderers and Five Heroes (Qixia Wuyi), with “high topknots over the heads, with tight fitting clothes, with a round-collared long robe with double-knots outside.””[16] The references to individual articles of clothing were descriptive rather than specific (“round-collared long robe with double-knots”), and set terms mostly referred to a particular image (such as the references to the book titles here) or time period (“Ming dynasty robes” in the Lishui example) rather than a particular cut or design in fashion terms.

When these ideas were publicized for discussion, the vocabulary suggested much more strongly to a temporal attribution rather than the intended image as a ‘long-standing tradition’ of the Han ethnicity. Although many sympathized or supported the notion intuitively as it appealed to the newborn Han-based national spirit, its lack of a systematic fashion vocabulary quickly rendered the movement as irrelevant to the discussion of modernization through dress. The Minquan Huabao even drew a satire (right) with the punchline “Short and long, high and low, old and new – a very funny mix[17]” to denote the popular opinion that rather than a matter of identity as Han, Manchu-Qing, or Western clothing, it was more so perceived as a battle of distinct dress customs from an evolutionary timeline, with the supporters of Qing fashion deemed loyalist or conservative but the Han dress supporters as absurdly antiquarian and out of touch with reality.

This is not to say that pre-Qing Han garb never had a systemized set of vocabulary or jargon to begin with: Throughout Republican period official documents on setting official and ritual dress such as the 1914 Republic of China’s Standard and Illustrations for Homage Dress and Headwear,[18] technical terms such as yuanlingpao (round-collar robe), jinxian guan (the ridged civil servant hard coronal), and xuanduan (“black edge,” referring to a ceremonial outfit but its composition is debated over the 20^th century) are borrowed from historical documents such as the Ming Huidian. However, access to this knowledge is severely limited by the restricted availability of such specialized materials and its language, making it only understood by scholars with the dedication and access clearance, usually in consultation for the government and its policy-makers. Furthermore, the limited application of this knowledge furthers the preconception of this fashion system as a historical one, with connotations of hierarchy and imperial control, ultimately leading to the failure to sustain the clothing as an evolvable practice.

The same problem plagued the Hanfu Movement of the 21^st century in its inception years, as essays such as A Lost Civilization described the clothing through a historical lens and portrayed the evolution of Han dress into dynastic archetypes with attached generalizations such as “round collar robes prevalent since around Sui-Tang times” or “large-lapelled right-crossed collars (representative among Qin-Han clothes)” while trying to overthrow such a classification itself.[19] This problem persisted and to some degree still persists today, but misunderstandings were somewhat alleviated when proposed a classification system based on fashion attributes rather than temporal ones.

The first attempt originated from a lengthy essay written in 2005 by Hanwang blogger Ouyang Yuxi, who suggested that all known articles of Han clothing share the right-lapelled, cross-collared trait with broad sleeves, and can be classified into one of four categories: Skirts, shenyi, long robes, and vests.[20] Adding accessories, footwear and headwear to the mix, Ouyang concluded that there are nine categories of Han vestimentary articles.[21] This system saw various minor revisions by collective effort on Baidu Hanfu Bar in 2008, which featured seven classifications: yishang [top-skirt], yiku [top-trousers], shenyi [joined robe], pao [robes], headwear, footwear, and underwear.[22] The system was once again recompiled in 2011 by netizen Yizhanfeng, who initiated a Wiki database to account for the increasing amount of processed archaeological and taxonomical results posted onto the Baidu discussion board, as well encourage community members to revise and perfect the system in a collaborative project rather than rely on the synthesis of any one scholar or writer. After two major revisions, the current understanding (see right above) breaks down hanfu into seven categories: Inner, middle, and outerwear; overcoats, accessories, headwear, and footwear. In addition to definitions of these hanfu classifications, there is also a subcategory of “derivative-hanfu” and “non-hanfu” examples, including cosplay (costume roleplaying) and fantasy costume designs from television and video games, to clearly define the boundaries and limits of the concept.[23]

Although aided by the collaborative nature of the Internet, the foremost reason of the modern hanfu movement’s success and survival resides in the ability to directly face and resolve challenges to its existence, including the fundamental transition from a temporal concept (‘antique/dynastic’ clothing) to an identity (ethnic/fashion) concept. After half a decade of daily online bombardment with passersby and anonymous attacks, the movement’s bloggers decided to summarize them into “four great false propositions” or reasons why critics deem the hanfu movement as irrelevant to modernity, followed by a section refuting the idea: The movement lacks a central leader figure, it refuses to ‘innovate’, it creates conflict with Zhonghua minzu pluralism by imposing Han culture as the ‘national standard’, and the clothing is ‘dynastic’ and ‘antiquarian.’[24] A hyperlink to the essay along with other links introducing the hanfu concept would be pasted by whenever subsequent new threads bearing a similar question was posted, hence creating a routine and standardized response. This is an improvement from the previous condition where the quality of responses depended on the participation of more knowledgeable members with the time or effort to write a lengthy and well-reasoned reply, and more often likely degrade into ‘flame wars’, or a melee of short, insulting messages over the other poster’s ignorance.

Due to the heightened awareness of the shortcomings of the Republican era movement, thinkers of the current movement emphasize that while it is an act of asserting ethnic/national identity just as in the past, it is in light of global cultural integration for the future, rejecting antiquarianism as the primary motivator. However, the greatest difference above the facts is that the movement in the present is dynamic, encourages grassroots activism in a loose democratic setting, in contrast to the loose federation of intellectual elites petitioning to top policymakers to officiate Han dress. Although the Republican scholars succeeded in establishing Han clothing as ritual dress in Confucian ceremonies, they failed to proliferate the tradition as the definitive dress design due to the lack of a comprehensive system of objects and creating relevance to the common citizen in his time.

However, it is critical to note that despite the major changes on the ideological plane, hanfu as a fashion is still very much invisible outside select elite or government-sponsored cultural events or individuals usually of higher education or income living in urban environments. The clothing deemed ‘of passable quality’ and authenticity, while not necessarily expensive to the majority of the Chinese middle class, are not readily available on the market as they have to be custom-ordered from small ateliers, with chain enterprises yet unsustainable.[25] Physical locations to buy authentic hanfu are limited to the largest cities in China, and most makers are limited to an online presence.[26] Nonetheless this has come far from the conditions during the early Republican era, as people mustered from stage costumes, privately stowed collections, or commissioned tailors with whatever know-how they have on robe design. To those who do have the means to accessing retailers today, they perceive lack of general public education towards Han dress and even self-awareness as a Han person instead as the primary reason for the current bottleneck towards general proliferation.[27]

Highway to Hell: Bringing demise through hijacking

At present, the People’s Republic of China has no specifications on dress code for state functions, nor is there a law standardizing the ritual dress of Confucian or other traditional ceremonies. When the recent hanfu movement first gained national media attention in 2006, it was under the pretense of establishing a “national costume” – a dress that represents the entirety of the country’s heritage, rooted in tradition.[28] This perceived necessity of establishing a single dress standard can be traced back to Imperial times, but can most recently be seen in the Republican regime. Under patronage of Yuan Shikai, Han dress were written into law as the official regalia in state-sponsored Confucian rituals, to which he first put into practice in a Heaven sacrifice ceremony on December 23, 1914. The standard was revised under the auspices of Chiang Kai-Shek in 1969 in his “Chinese Traditional Culture Movement,” headed by scholars Fang Hao, Wang Yuqing, Zhuang Benli, and Kong Decheng, and is the current standard on Taiwan.[29]

Despite the tradition prolonging in present Republic of China, Han dress has no place in society outside of the context of the Confucius homage ceremony, and hence is deemed as a failure by the current movement. This divide can be traced to Yuan Shikai, who declared to assume a monarchial position a year after the Heaven sacrifice ceremony in 1914. The cross-collared image of Han robes used in these Confucian ceremonies were then related with “feudal” imperialism and immediately denounced. No further talk on Han clothing surfaced in the public sphere, although individuals in China’s academic elite persisted in its use in specific situations and left photographic records as evidence, such as Chen Huanzhi’s wearing of the shenyi in the 17^th Kongjiao Convention in 1929, or the graduation robes in the Fu Jen example. These evidences show that society, elite or general, are overwhelmingly apathetic on seeing the “wide sleeved ancient robes” as a viable dress with modernity dependent on Westernization as the measure of success. Despite the goodwill intentions of using Zhouli standards and other ethnic Han elements to reaffirm their Chinese authenticity, Yuan Shikai and early Revolutionary thinkers in support of reviving Han style dress have failed to defend their position intending to restore a Han Chinese identity, instead slumped into a dichotomy between a Westernized modernity versus a Chinese antiquity, ultimately failing to appeal to the public interest and addressing the burning question of establishing a competitive Chinese nation on the global stage.

Aside from the antiquarian and Han chauvinist allegations, the Hanfu Movement was particularly concerned when New Tang Dynasty Television (NTDTV), the Taiwanese/New York based media company reputed to be the voice of anti-Chinese Communist Party organization Falun Gong began in high-profile an annual “Global Competition series” promoting Chinese traditional arts and artisanship, of which including an “International Han couture design competition” since 2009. The competition lauded in promoting to a worldwide audience (by holding the event in New York) “5000 years of tradition” by displaying contest submissions with adjectives such as “Tang splendour”, “Song”, “Ming”, [30] fundamentally digressing from the grassroots-led movement’s principle of avoiding dynastic labels in favor of ‘ahistorical,’ function-based labels. Furthermore, the anti-establishment nature of the organizer led to Chinese conspiracy theorists online suspecting that the movement’s disagreement with the Zhonghua minzu’s de-emphasis of Han image meant that it could very well become “a second Falun Gong” working to subvert the Communist state,[31] to which hanfu activists quickly responded by deleting or locking references to the competition, as well as informing fellow members to disassociate from and boycott the event.[32]

Aside from allegations on state subversion, various organizations have attempted to monopolize or hijack the movement under an individual’s patent. Hanwang, the Hanist forum where the first activists congregated clearly defined themselves as “a portal website for the Han ethnicity/race (minzu), and the birth cradle (faxiangdi) of the Hanfu Movement” and strictly maintains that it is first and foremost “a website dedicated to monitoring and defending for the interests of the Han people.”[33] However, a renegade website based on Baidu Tieba forums known as Hanshe, led by a private tutelage owner and costume retailer named Chen Bing (or Chen Zhenbing) who proclaimed himself as “the forerunner of the Hanfu movement since the Heaven sacrifice at Mount Cuihua in 1991,” and that the Hanfu movement “has two main directions,” one being the Internet-led movement starting in 2003, and the other being Chen himself over a decade prior.[34] The Hanshe forum also has a timeline pegged on top, where it claims all actions and deeds regarding the Hanfu Movement since 2003 in public media as part of Hanshe activity. Since the movement gained momentum through a collaborative and decentralized effort with ample textual and visual records, Chen’s claim is obviously bogus, further proven with the earliest post on the website dating only to 2008. However, Chen’s promotional activities throughout China with prominent social figures and its subsequent reports online meant to mainstream activists that without action, newcomers will be misguided by Chen to believe that the whole initiative is led by him and the movement hijacked by his so-called association. A series of posts preceded to “decode” Hanshe as a bogus “cult (xiejiao) in attempting to let Chen become an emperor.”[35]

From the Republican revolutionaries’ top-down approach to apply Han clothing nationwide and its demise from Yuan Shikai’s executive decision to nominate himself emperor, to the modern bottom-up grassroots movement with other civilian organizations fighting for power and say, the similarities between the two narratives is that the antagonist of the conflict is often perceived to stem from the same level or source – in the earlier case, Yuan’s top-down will to found a monarchial empire overruled in importance to his  utilization of Han dress and rituals to assert a long-repressed identity and was hence hijacked unto oblivion. As for the modern case, time has yet to tell whether the intentional decentralized grassroots system is ultimately successful in averting attempted hijacking or not, but cases such as Falun Gong or Hanshe’s involvement and attempted “takeover” of leadership proves that regardless of era, ambitions for personal gain or simply to undermine another’s effort is a constant theme in humanity’s desire for progress and legacy. Moreover, by focusing on conflicting with the antagonist ‘from within’, both movements lose precious time and energy that could have otherwise expanded the otherwise narrow niche of participants to a wider scope in society through constructive promotion and development.

Conclusion: The Long Way Home

For almost 370 years, Han Chinese have struggled with the forced assimilation of Manchu dress and appearance in addition to political rule. While the 1911 Revolution has successfully shaken off foreign control and imperialism from the Han altogether, reconciliation with its former image is clouded by a series of stigmas deeply implanted into the Han social subconscious, as well as traditions both material and immaterial that has fallen out of continuity with the rest of the world for over two and a half centuries. Overwhelmed by Western preconceptions on modernity and the lurking shadows of ‘antiquarian, feudal’ past stigmas, the idea did not survive long past its suggestion. While writers and scholars attribute these shortcomings to naïveté on the revolutionary thinkers’ part, through the evidence in this paper it can also be argued that they lacked social preparation such as involvement of all classes in society, a sustainable theory on a new (Han) ethnic dress designed for a new modern society, as well as a supply chain to provide the materiel to actualize the goal.

These shortcomings were carefully noted and painstakingly addressed in the grassroots movement one century later, to the best of ability by ordinary citizens of various skills and trades. However, as compared to other countries’ ethnic fashion fads and revivals, the Hanfu Movement today still has a considerable distance from international and social visibility. Asides from the clothing itself, the movement is a platform for discussing and presenting a diverse array of societal issues and identity, such as gender, class, and pluralism. Rather than focusing on whether or not this movement will face the danger of becoming an ultranationalist movement, it would be more suitable to conclude that the survival and success of Han dress in today’s society depends on whether it could continue to stimulate the question of Han and Chinese identity into constructive forms of innovation while achieving its fundamental goal: To face history and heritage in its unadulterated truth, and respect it as the culmination and result of our present understanding of our identities.

Bibliography

Primary Reference:

Gao, Xialing and Cheng, Xiaoming. “Shilun Qingmo Minchu Hanzhuang Fuxing de Jiyu,” [An attempt to account Late Qing, Early Republican era encounters on the revival of Han dress]. Journal of Xinzhou Teachers University, 2005 Iss. 3 (June 2005). Xinzhou: Xinzhou Teacher’s University.

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Ganling (alias). “[Hanfu fuxing sida weimingti] Qing guangda tongpao zhuyi guibi o”([Four great false propositions of Hanfu Restoration] Fellow comrades please take note and avoid), posted on Baidu Hanfu Bar, June 14, 2011. http://tieba.baidu.com/f?kz=1109190833, last accessed December 17, 2012.

Hao Hongjie. “Yu Qiuyu: Ruguo Zhongguoren dou chuan hanfu, najiu chengle minzu zhuyi,” [Yu Qiuyu: If Chinese people all wear hanfu, that would become nationalism] Eastday News. Published March 28, 2007.  http://news.eastday.com/s/20070328/u1a2718560.html, last accessed December 15, 2012.

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Zhengshitang Lizhiguan. Jisi Guanfu Zhi and Jisi Guanfu Tu. Caizheng Bu Yinshua Ju. August 1914.

Zhou, Zuoren. Mupianji – Qian Xuantong, in Zhou Zuoren Zibian Wenji. Shijiazhuang: Hebei Education Press, 2002. Pp. 13-14; Zhou Weiqiang. Saoxuezhai Zhuren: Qian Xuantong Chuan. Hangzhou: Zhejiang People’s Publishing House, 2003. Chapter 9.

Here’s an excerpt:

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Click here to see the complete report.

Ji Enxu (Zhou Tianhe) curates over the exhibit and explains the differences between the designs over the years and scholars’ re-imaginations.

On September 29, 2012, fashion design group Celestial Spring and several renowned Confucian scholars ran a 2-day exhibit on the evolution of the Confucian scholar standard regalia – the Shenyi. Often deemed as “the most original and antiquated Chinese robe design thought possible,” the loose robe’s design is long thought to be a static, rigid standard due to its unchanging definition that fills the entire contents of the Book of Rites’ chapter XXXIX. The group referenced various Confucian scholars’ detailed annotations on the Shenyi standard over the span of 1,700 years, and has produced replicas of 12 robes to come to an astounding conclusion that not only our perceptions of the past often clouded by mysticism of the textual ambivilency, but the same can be said that of our ancestors, in no less a degree than our wild imaginations and re-imaginations today.

Below are the 12 Shenyi robes, as well as the textual account given in the exhibit. Note that most names of historical figures are addressed in last name-courtesy name basis, with their first names addressed on a separate line in Confucian tradition in respect of prominent figures.

It is particularly important to see, through this display of actualized reproductions of shenyi designs and its concepts throughout the ages, how imaginations of what “Chinese clothing”, “Confucian sartorial regulations”, and how text is interpreted by different diciplines and individuals. In another perspective, it also represents how the changes in Chinese fashion, or the absence of visible environment for the clothing (such as the Qing) has affected the imagination of Han Chinese clothing.

Implications of the reimaginations of the Shenyi in the modern context may have various directions, including the discussion of how far should traditional hanfu design encompass – would satisfying the textual evidence be enough, or would a continuity froom previous specimens be required? It is my hope that the following article will open a discussion on the subject with the general community.

The Zhengyi Shenyi, by definition circa 3~6c. CE.

1. Zhengyi (“Standard Meaning”) Shenyi

Taken from Zheng Kangcheng’s version of Li Ji, as annotated by Kong Yingda in Liji Zhengyi and Jia Gongyan’s Yili Zhushu.

From the Three Eras to the Two Hans, the heritage of rites and standards have followed in lineage. The Shenyi of Zhou became the court dress of the Han, and [its textual account] was written by Zheng Kangcheng. His texts included chapters from the Li Ji, such asShenyi and Yuzao, as well as Yi Li’s Sang Fu. His figure still exists in stone from Han-Wei times. With the Southern Retreat of Dress and Headwear [ie. the Western Jin southward retreat], the heritage was almost obliterated. Without the scholars’ reorganization in the early Tang, even with the works of Kangcheng and his statues, contemporary scholars would never have been able to tell the texts’ meaning. Hence, it is called the Zhengyi (‘Standard Meaning’) Shenyi, to glorify and praise the accomplishments of Kangcheng and the various scholars after him, up to the various saints of the early Tang.

Zheng Kangcheng, given name Xuan, is a master and synthesis of classical canons in the late Eastern Han era. He is known for his diverse reading and interpretations of various canons despite being incarcerated due to factional feuding; his virtue in staying loyal to the clear streams [ie. free of corruption], his grand knowledge in calendrical calculations and the essence of behaviour and life have earned his title of Deity of the Canon in his time, with thousands of students under him. Despite his squalid origins, he is ultimately able to move masses by the end of his lifetime. His school of learning takes Zhou Rituals as the body, and places Gongyang [school of thought] as the spirit, and its ritual and object standards, [theories] Way of Heaven and Relations of Man are all extremely complete, hence is called the Zheng school.

Kong Yingda, courtesy name Chongyuan, one of the eighteen scholars of early Tang, chief editor of Wu Jing Zheng Yi, which is the prime reader of Canonical studies.

Jia Gongyan, courtesy name unknown, has studied the Wu Jing Zheng Yi and is particularly proficient in the Three Rites. Wrote Zhou Li Zhu Shu (Annotated Zhou Rituals), Yi Li Zhu Shu (Annotated Yi Li).

2. Chen Yongzhi Shenyi

Based on Chen Xiangdao’s Li Shu.

Chen Xiangdao, courtesy name Yongzhi, lived from the Zhiping to Yuanyou-era of the Song dynasty, Grand scholar of Taichangsi [Ritual Commissar of the Imperial Court], disciple of Wang Jinggong. His works include Lunyu Quanjie and Li Shu.

This design originally had no textual explanation and the diagram was ambiguous. However the Daming Jili and early Ming artifacts from the Jiangyin Museum show a robe with a skirt made of six panels each for the front and back. Master Chen, as a disciple of Wang, loved to redefine the Canon that is heretical to the Kangcheng and Cheng-Zhu schools, but the Shenyi is largely similar. Master Dongpo was his contemporary, and wrote a poem noting it as “not new and not old, free and unique”. This proves that antiquarian spirit was the common value among the Confucian community.

The Zhuzi Shenyi.

3. Wengong-Zhuzi Shenyi

Based on Sima Wengong’s Shu Yi, Zhuzi Jia Li [Family Rituals], and Li Guangdi’s Zhuzi Li Zhuan 《朱子礼纂》.

Sima Wengong, given name Guang, courtesy name Junshi, alias Master of Sushui, titled Lord of Wen, posthumous title Wenzheng, is a prominent official of the Northern Song, known for opposing Jinggong’s Reforms and formulating the Zizhi Tongjian. His published works include Wengong Yishuo, Qieyun Zhizhang Tu, Sushui Jiwen and more.

Zhuzi [Master Zhu], given name Xi, courtesy name Yuanhui, alias Hui’an, Ziyang, titled Duke of Hui. He lived from the Shaoxing to Qingyuan era of Southern Song, and is a disciple of the Chengs. He is the greatest compiler of canon since the Tang-Song period, and his disciples have annotated various past sages’ written works. Zhuzi’s studies of name and object, reaches as far back as Kangcheng, radiates duty and reason, all the way back the the age of the Three Sage Kings. Careful in speech and action, he praised the Kingly Way and ousted the foreign, discussed nature of the heart, and endeavoured at the details of essence. Ever since Emperor Wen compiled and published “Sishu Wujing Daquan” and “Xingli Daquan” and spread them far and wide, Master Zhu’s learnings go across the world, and his virtue are equal to that of a saint.

This design was finalized in Master Zhu’s late years, which takes a straight collardesign, worn lapels crossed over, and forms a square collar on its own.
[Translator's note: The "square" refers to the straight-looking angle of the crossed collar, but not right-angled as commonly understood.]

The Huang Nanshan Shenyi.

4. Huang Nanshan Shenyi

Taken from Huang Zongxi’s Shenyi Kao.

Huang Run’yu (1391-1479), courtesy name Mengqing, lived from Yongle to Zhengtong eras, built Nanshan Shuyuan in his late years in his hometown, hence is addressed as Master Nanshan. He was a Zhu school scholar, and wrote Jingshu Buzhu, Siming Wenxian, Hanshan-xian Tuzhi, Haixian Wanxiang Lu.

This design was referenced from Huang Lizhou’s Shenyi Kao, with a straight one-piece cut, typical with Song-Ming fashion, but its proportions and dimensions are similar to ancient technique for continuity.

5. Liu Luchuan Shenyi

From Liu Ji’s Sanli Tu.

Liu Ji, courtesy name Yongxi, alias Luchuan, lived in the Hongzhi (1470-1505) era. He read various books on ritual and the Xuanhe Bogu Tu, in order to write his Sanli Tu. His primary studies involve textual artifacts and etymology, revising and replacing contentious definitions in the past. Also wrote Guanzi Buzhu.

This design is particular in its chessboard-collar, possibly a variation of a round-collar robe. The Confucius Temple of Qufu has similar specimens in their wardrobe collection.

The Wang Xinzhai-Yang Cihu Shenyi.

6. Yang Cihu and Wang Xinzhai Shenyi

Based on Wei Di’s Liji Jishuo, Wang Xinzhai-Xiansheng Ji and Wang’s drawn portrait.

Yang Jian, courtesy name Jingzhong, alias Master Cihu, is a scholar in the Qiandao era (1165-1173) of the Song dynasty. Educated in Lu Xiangshan’s school of Confucianism, he wrote Yangshi Yichuan, Wu Gao Jie, Cihu Shi chuan, Xiansheng Daxun and more.

Wang Gen, courtesy name Ruzhi, alias Xinzhai, is a scholar from the Chenghua to Jiajing period (1465-1566) of the Ming dynasty. A disciple of Wang Yangming’s school of thinking, wore the robes of the Sage King Yao, sat upon a round cushion seat, and taught in the marketplace, irregardless of his student’s background – whether woodcutter, farmers, saltmakers or labourers. His philosophy opf knowledge is that whatever the people can use daily, is the Way.

Xinzhai’s Yao Sage robe and Wuchang Guan cap, as depicted in his drawn portrait, is a square-collared shenyi and black gauze Confucian cap. Since Zheng’s annotation and the inception of the Lanshan in the Tang era, only Yang Cihu was bold enough to model [a Shenyi] after it. His collar opening starts from the shoulder, which is a departure from Liu Luchuan’s chessboard collar, yet different still from a Korean Confucian’s square collar. Although seemingly not so different at first sight, perhaps there is some deep meaning behind this?

The Wang Junchuan Shenyi.

7. Wang Junchuan Shenyi

Based on Huang Zongxi’s Shenyi Kao.

Wang Tingxiang, courtesy name Ziheng, alias Junchuan, is a scholar from Hongzhi to Jiajing era (1470-1566) in the Ming dynasty. One of the Seven Scholars, was in office for the Censorate for the Ministry of War, and once was provincial governor of Sichuan. He preached pragmatic learning, meaning that scholars should study for the embetterment of societal operation. He favoured ancient studies, and revised on funeral ritual practices.

This design is designed to be worn with a skirt underneath, to encompass the philosophy of revering the superior and their words. The design is also an essentialized version of the Ming court dress.

The Wang Zhaoming Shenyi.

8. Wang Zhaoming Shenyi

Based on Wang Yingdian’s Zhouli Tushuo.

Wang Yingdian, courtesy name Zhaoming, alias unknown, is a Jiajing era scholar. A disciple of Wei Zhuangqu, favours study of the Zhou Rituals. His works include Zhouli Chuan, Zhouli Tushuo, Tongwen Beikao, Shufa Zhiyao, Liuyi Yinqie and others.

This robe’s top length is about one feet under the belt, in order to match the 4-inch wide collar, to match with Ming Confucian fashion. The Jiangyin Museum has a similar specimen.

The Huang Lizhou Shenyi.

9. Huang Lizhou Shenyi

Huang Zhongxi, courtesy name taichong, alias Lizhou, a scholar of Chongzhen to Yongli era of the Ming and Southern Ming dynasty. A disciple of Liu Jishan, and reminent refugee of the Ming Empire. He is versed in canon and history, and wrote records such as Ming Ru Xue’an, Yixue Xiangshu Lun, Mengzi Shishuo and more.

This robe’s specialty features extended lapels and closed sleeve ends. Since this book was published after the Qing Queue Order, this perhaps was a move to preserve the standards of the fallen nation, in hopes for rediscovery by future generations.

The Jiang Yong Shenyi.

10. Jiang Shenxiu Shenyi

Based on Jiang Yong Shenyi Kaowu, Xiangdang Tukao.

Jiang Yong, courtesy name Shenxiu, alias Shenzhai, is a scholar of the Qianlong era of the Qing. He never serviced the empire, but studied in various subjects, and loved to establish heterodoxic ideas. His works include Lishu Gangmu, Xiangdang Tukao, Zhouli Yiyi Juyao, Zhong-Xi Hefa Nicao, Lixue Bukao and more.

This robe first added the concept of adding lapels to the lower skirt, and claims that all previous generations were erroneous in their ways. Since Jiang was born in the Yongli era (of Southern Ming), he perhaps may have had a glimpse of the Celestial dynasty’s true dress, hence its collar and sleeve shape is still elegant and proper.

When Li Mengqi of our dynasty [time] first made the Shenyi in the year Guiwei (2003), he modelled it after Jiang’s prescription, hence the name.

The Nakai Bunsei Shenyi.

11. Nakai Bunsei Shenyi

Based on Nakai Riken’s Shin-i Dzukai [Shenyi Tujie].

Nakai Riken, alias Bunsei [Wenqing], a Confucian scholar in the Meiwa era (1764-1772) of Tokugawa Japan.

This robe was based off of Zhuzi’s Shenyi, but opens a neck opening rather than having a totally straight parallel collar. With extended lapels and hooked edges, and extends towards the inside lapel as well, which is slightly more aesthetic than Zhuzi’s design.

Japanese Confucian Seki Reishuu commented, “Our nation’s ancient Shenyi style, follows the Canon of Rituals as standard. Since modern times, we may follow Sima Wen’gong or Zhu Wen’gong [Zhuzi]‘s theories.” One can observe the strictness of the island nation’s endeavour to protect tradition.

The Huang Jingji Shenyi.

12. Huang Jingji Shenyi

Taken from Huang Yizhou’s Lishu Tonggu.

Huang Yizhou, courtesy name Yuantong, alias Jingji, Tongzhi era to Kangxi era scholar in the Qing era. His work Lishu Tonggu is where this robe was recorded.

This robe is different from previous methods, since it mixes in methods employed in making the Xuanduan robe. It also lacks the elegance and propriety of the past. However, since canonical studies have declined and fallen today, some may model their robes after this model.

Addendum: Shen Fenghuang Shenyi

The Shen Fenghuang (Congwen) Shenyi.

Shen Yuehuan (1902-1988), courtesy name Congwen, alias Fenghuang (after his hometown), is a Confucian scholar, writer, and scholar on Chinese traditional clothing in the Republican and current era.

He was reassigned to the Palace Museum in Beijing to research on traditional Chinese costume and clothing in 1957, and although his research was nearly destroyed by the Cultural Revolution, it was published under his name Shen Congwen Zhongguo Gudai fushi Yanjiu.

This Shenyi design was recreated based on Shen’s book and Cheng  Zongyuan’s Buyi Kongzi Sanshi-erli Xiang (Portrait). Cheng is a painter based in Suzhou. The robe’s design was based on an unearthed shenyi artifact in the Mashan Chu grave, and suggested that the extended lapel was a straight rectangular cut, and ends at a point with the top/skirt and armpit seams. The V-neck collar may perhaps be based on Western Zhou or Spring and Autumn period jade figures. Shen instructed Cheng to illustrate this in his portrait series Kongzi Pingchuan. This robe was used as the CCTV television drama Confucius in the late 1980′s.

A Republican official in ritual dress.

Translator’s Foreword: In regards to Hanfu in the Republican era (1911-1949), two major essays are readily available in Chinese, one in academia and one outside. The other one is a photo-essay posted on Baidu Hanfu bar located here, which sources occurances of Hanfu from biographical and photographic evidence from the period.

Translated from Chinese journal article by GAO Xialing and CHENG Xiao-Ming, “Shi lun Qingmo Minchu Hanzhuang Fuxing de Jiyu [Brief Comments on the opportunity of Han's dress in Chinese modern times]“, from Journal of Xinzhou Teachers University, Vol.21:3, Xinzhou: 2005.

Original Chinese versions can be obtained from Wanfang Data at http://d.wanfangdata.com.cn/periodical_xzsfxyxb200503018.aspx or http://d.g.wanfangdata.com.hk/Periodical_xzsfxyxb200503018.aspx, reposted in http://tieba.baidu.com/f?kz=52423925.

An attempt to account Late Qing, Early Republican era encounters on the revival of Han dress

By: Gao Xialing, Hunan Normal University
Cheng Xiaoming, National University of Defense Technology
Translated by: Juni Yeung, Chinese University of Hong Kong

摘　要“:恢复华夏衣冠”既包括在政治和思想意识上,恢复华夏民族的统治地位;又指恢复华夏族人的外在形象、仪容即服饰。清末民初的政局变化为汉族传统服装的复兴提供了一次历史机遇,由于服饰近代化的“西化”取向等历史与现实的原因,汉装的出现被认为是个别人的“复古”情结而受到忽视,其中蕴含的政治文化意义有待挖掘。今天,传统汉装的再现街头恰是前次事件的重演和继续。

Translated Abstract: “Restoring Huaxia Clothing and Headress” encompasses restoration of the ruling position Huaxia ethnicity, as well as reviving their outer appearance and posterity in their dress. The fall of the Qing and rise of the Republic provided a historic opportunity, but due to the “Westernizing” penchant in the modernization process, the appearance of Han clothing was considered as “antiquarian” and overlooked, its political and cultural meanings are left to be discovered. Today, The reappearance of hanfu on the streets is a reprise and continuation of the phenomenon.

Original English Abstract：The nationalism has a very important function to the dress’s reforming in Chinese modem times．The peasant uprising named as Taipingtianguo and revolt of Revolutionary Party will appeal for Han people to overturn the Qing dynasty，in name of regaining China’s traditional dress，when dress’s reforming means a political intention — National Revolution．After the Republic of China was built．Han people’s traditional dress had been forgotten．But the historical event has a profound influence to us today．

关键词:服饰;民族主义;近代中国
Key words：traditional dress；nationalism：Modern Times

***

In the visscitudes of dress in the transition from the Qing to the Republic, Han traditional dress (such as the Shenyi) briefly flashed in a comeback, bringing itself to the attention of the people and was duly noted on record. What  is regrettable, however, is that aside from certain individuals, those who have tasked themselves with restoring Huaxia dress traditions after overthrowing the Manchu government have not shown their supposed passion. With the lack of understanding from the public and the support of the government, such an opportunity came to a pass. Now as we look back to this piece of history, it still captivates our hearts even over a century later.

Historically, the habitants of the Central Plains called themselves as “Huaxia” to praise their dress and rituals. Year 10 of Duke Ding from the Zuo Annals records: “The Middle Kingdom has the grandeur of ritual, hence called Xia; there is the beauty of dress and pattern, hence called Hua.” [TL: This is mistaken, as this is in the Kong Yingda annotations rather than the original text] Its meaning imposes significance on appearance, as well as using dress as distinction for setting up a strict class system deeply ingrained in the practice of wearing clothing and headwear, forming the Huaxia tradition of achieving harmonious rule by dress. This tradition lead to the idiosyncratic concepts of “Hua-Yi debate”, “Yi-Xia sense of security” and so forth, and “loose hair and left-lapeled” became the a derogation by these people towards the “Yi-Di” barbarians. One can almost suppose: The strong sense ethnic-based nationalism by the Huaxia people are synonymous to their clothing tradition. Hence, any foreign ruler changing this tradition, would mean the deliberate toppling of Huaxia civilization and insult to their race, as well invite total resistance from all its members. Even though not all foreign invaders brought change to this tradition, but the Han has always cited restoration of its dress code as a clarion call for resistance. Obviously, Huaxia dress is an alias to Huaxia civilization and rites, as well as the marker of its outer image and appearance. Hence, restoring Huaxia dress has two layers of meaning: First, restoring tthe ruling status of the Huaxia race, and second, restoring the appearance or dress of the Huaxia people. The  reason lies in that ethnic culture is comprised of dress, headdress style, customs et cetera, aside from oral and written language. If language is the internal decorum of a race, then dress and hairstyle is its outer appearance, and often it is placed heavier than that of the former. This is become appearances can be identified instantly, but refinement and decorum requires further investigation. in the feudal age where production means are primative and illiteracy or semi-illiteracy run rampant, the common person perhaps will not understand the deeper meanings of ethnic culture, but they can tell the difference of “this ethnicity” versus “foreigners” based on outer appearance – to them, external appearance meant almost everything.

A representative view is: “In contemporary times, features of traditional robes such as wide belts and long skirts have all become downfalls, and is increasingly unfit for the accelerating pace of life. This kind of wide clothing impedes work, and early on people have already improved and compromised upon it. The strict social stratification of dress code is unfit for contemporary values of equality, and represses the typical civilian’s pursuit for elegant clothe. Also, its complexity makes people unaccustomed to it. [1:379]

” Hence, traditional Han dress lacks real need and social basis, and its reappearance on the streets would only lead others to think of it as a display of ‘antiquarianism’, and ‘moves against the tide’, without any particular social meaning, as China’s acceptance of the Western view of civilization and progress also shows that there is no need for the revival of traditional Han dress.” The above description attempted to describe the meaning of the change from a utilitarian angle, but overlooks the political culture and historical coonnection, especially of its over-simplified account towards the reappearance of Han dress onto the streets. The fact is, the revival of Han dress then not only had a social basis, but also had profound historical and utilitarian meanings.

1: The revival of Han dress has a certain societal basis. Ever since the fall of the Ming, the Han have taken the Queue Order as a painful token to remind them of the shame in losing the country, and it re-escalated during the antagonization towards the end of the Qing. “Restoring Huaxia dress” was a message by the democratic revolutionary bourgeoisie with utmost clarity in meaning: “The recent shame to our country and fallen armies, our realms divided and threatening our borders; our great Huaxia is considered unworthy by our neighbours, our artifacts and dress taken lightly by foreign races. (近之辱國喪師﹑剪藩壓境﹑堂堂華夏不齒於鄰邦﹑文物冠賞被輕於異族。)”[2] “Retribution over shame, expelling foreign races, and restore our headdress and clothes. (雪仇耻,驅外族,復我冠裳。)”[3] “The demons and spirits in the ancestral temples are not of the ones [of our] countryside altars; the hair queues and braids are not fashion [of our] bian and mian coronets; the Qing written form and national language, is not the decorum and pattern of our culture. (堂子妖神,非郊丘之教; 辮髮纓絡,非弁冕之服; 清書國语,非斯、邈之文。)” [4]

On the other hand, traditional Han clothing has had an impact on the Revolutionary Party members. “I am already thirty-three…and even past the age of independence, I still wear clothing of barbarians, not daring to trespass the code by even an inch. By not being able to cut it off, the crime is mine alone to bear. I shall don the shen belt [a part of the Shenyi] and grow out my hair, in order to restore the recent antiquity, but time is hasty and the clothes are all but unattainable.” [5] Lu Xun in his account of Nanshe’s “desire to liberate the old things” also mentioned the influence of clothing: “For example the people of Nanshe are at first very Revolutionary, but they hold a fantasy that once the Manchus are expelled, everything will go back to ‘the glorious face of the Han official (漢官威儀)’, and everyone wiill wear large-sleeved robes with tall coronets, taking large strides down the street.”[6] Although there are slightly different takes on interpreting the phrase “restore our headdress and clothes”, there is no difference in meaning from overthrowing the Manchu Qing regime, and mobilizing the masses on the Revolutionary front. Just as the above accounts have recounted, there were some who suggested from before the Xinhai Revolution to restore ancient dress, modelling the clothes after the martial roles in Tales of the Water Margin (Shui Hu Chuan) and Seven Wanderers and Five Heroes (Qixia Wuyi) , with “high topknots over the heads, with tight fitting clothes, with a round-collared long robe with double-knots outside.” [7] They believed that this outfit was “aesthetically pleasing, yet agile and not losing out the martial spirit.”

After the Xinhai Revolution, Temporary President Sun Yat-sen emphasized in his edict to cut the queue on March 5 ”Manchu bandits, in their act of stealing the nation and changing our headdress and clothing and imposing the braided queue by force, have stenched our customs. At first that time,gentlemen of tall virtue and humaneness, as well as those of unbendable spirits, have willingly sacrificed their lives, or hid themselves amongst the torrents for the rset of their lives…now that the Manchu court is overthrown, and the Republic is successful, all of my compatriots are allowed to cleanse the filth of this past stain, and become citizens of a new nation. (满虏窃国,易于冠裳,强行编发之制,悉以腥之俗。当其初,高士仁人或不屈被执,从容就义;或遁入流,以终余年。……今者满廷已覆,民国成功,凡我同胞,允宜涤旧染之污,作新国之民。)” [8] ”…Removing barbarian practicse to reinforce aesthetics. (以除虏俗而壮观瞻。)[9] When Lishui, Zhejiang was liberated, two people “donned square caps, wore Ming ancient costume, hung Longchuan swords by their waists, and stood in the street to greet [the troops]. (头带方巾,身穿明代古装,腰佩龙泉宝剑,站在街头欢迎。)” [9] Qian Xuantong, the first person to call for the downfall of the Tongcheng school of Confucianism for its fallacious teachings and claimed that “the Republic and Confucian canon cannot coexist”, reported to the Zhejiang Military Government as  new Minister of Education in a Confucius-era Shenyi and black gauze cap in 1913, as well published “A study on Shenyi cap and outfit (Shenyi Guanfu Kao)”for public dissemination. [1:382] 。”At that time, many people donned strange and exotic clothing for the sake of restoring Han Chinese clothing. So tied their hair in a topknot and wore Daoist garb, others tied their full heads of hair into straight tails, and some cut their queues to have short hair.” Undoubtedly, the social basis for reviving traditional Han dress is brittle at best, but such a basis does exist. From the clothing and hairstyle revolution in the Taiping to Nanshe’s proposed ideas all show this basis of the desire of restoration, hence a straight-cut statement of “restoring ancient dress” lacking any social support would be too sweeping a generalization. Restoring “Huaxia dress and headdress” required support from both the government and prominent members of society, but both failed to demmonstrate corresponding passion, and pundits taking action were sparse.

If we were to seek its cause, it is related with another change of customs that began just slightly earlier. With modernization movement of dress began as a measure to improve moral customs, and had extensive effect in the Hundred Days’ Reform. Kang Youwei, Song Shu and others were adament on the change of dress, as “when the King changes ruling methods, clothing and colors must change (‘王者改制,必易服色’). If the clothing has not changed, the hearts of the people cannot be shifted to become custom, hence the new system will not work.” “If this change is to affect domains Manchu and Han, civil and martial, we must begin from the official practice: if we wish to connect the spirits of the sovereign and servant, official and civilian, we must begin with establishing a parliament. If we are to flourish the studies of military and agriculture, water and fire, we must begin from changing the examination system. Before these three begin, one must change before these: If we are to change our civil service, parliamentary, and examination systems, we must start from changing into Western dress.” However, their sartorial revolution was put to a dead stop with the end of the Hundred Days’ Reform. The Reformists saw the change of dress to be an important aspect of establishing Western-style governance, and had a distinctly different political need from those petitioning for the “restoration of our traditional dress”.

Revolutionary Party members were no different in their misunderstandings toward traditional dress, but with the end of over two millennia of feudal [sic] rule with an Emperor, the feudal [sic] code of rituals crumbled away with it. In the Temporary Constitution of the Republic of China, it clearly states: “The people of  the Republic are all equal without discrimination of race, status, or religion.” The traditional dress code which was an important device for maintaining a social hierarchy was soon outlawed. Not long after, Sun Yat-sen’s four principles of dress formally ended the politicized morality of sartorial tradition. In his response to a letter from The Association of Maintaining Chinese Local Goods, he pointed that “this clothing style’s main purpose is for its suitability to hygiene, ease of movement, yet economical and aesthetically pleasing.” The main concensus of the government and the society at large was set in the context of ‘learning from the West’ – First, the Republic’s new dress should abide by Universalism, promote equality, study from Western utilitarian values, hence should be of Western design. As previously stated, wearing Western clothing is the most ardent representative face of the bourgeois revolution around the world, and due to the success of the Revolution, they have become the most significant force influencing the new dress of the Republic.” Although Sun also believed that using Western clothing as the formal dress of the Republic may be “not entirely appropriate”, and pointed that “after doing away with the queue and intent on changing the clothing standard, but no appropriate clothing to meet the demand, will only lead to expediant importing of tweed to compete in the conversion to Western standards. This only will lead to booming sales of foreign goods and stagnation of local ones, and the negative impact will be as described by textbooks.” But at the same time,adopting Western dress was the mainstream direction, hence the Republican government’s “universalist” ideology legitimized Western design as legit and rational. Although former Revolutionary Party members stressed on nationalism and extended their request on sartorialism, their understanding on clothing remained on the utilitarian and economic basis. The understanding on the meaning of traditional dress from the early days of the Revolution was largely forgotten.

“When traditional culture is situated in the climate of heavy Western influence and shock, without the support of official bodies, this obviously is difficult.” Since dress modernization is ‘intoxicated on Westernization’ from the start, irregardless of Reformist or Revolutionist, neither side was willing to “restore” traditional Han dress, hence other than arousing the curiosity of the public when it reappeared on the streets, few questioned its background social reasons.

Secondly, in the early years of the Republic, the confusing sartorial situation meant space for the potential restoration of traditional Han dress. Is the end of the Manchu rule and end to politicized morality of sartorialism also relegating Huaxia dress into the past? The problem is not as simple. Ethnic dress is the external mark for differentiating one ethnicity from another, hence most races around the world have their own unique dress. although the “Western clothing fad” in the beginning years of the Republic spread fervantly, the result was “ladies’ dress of those pursuing with the times, pursue the styles of Shanghai irregardles of design, mostly out novelty from the circle of courtesans. Men’s clothing may imitate Beijing officials and self-titled elites, or chase after actors or others who endeavour in chasing after the mode.” This kind of confusing situation was detrimental to both the new government and the image of the citizen, hence Sun Yat-sen’s anxious exclaimation “and yet there is no appropriate clothing to meet demand.” Speaking strictly on the ethnic revolution, the Xinhai Revolution has only been successful in restoring the ruling status of the Huaxia people, but not in their external appearance, image, or clothing. Despite Sun’s “Zhongshan suit” being of fashion at one point in time, this kind of dress did not attain recognition as a traditional article of clothing. Its military design and uniform nature also meant that the world did not recognize it as the hallmark image of the Huaxia people. On the other hand, years afteer the death of Sun, cheongsam and magua are still the de facto dress of Chinese people across all social strata, and represented the international image of the Chinese people. This can only prove one point: in times of turmoil and revolution, clothing has always been a means for political or partisan identity, to display a certain group’s existance and power through the uniformity of dress. For example, Communists in China perceive red markers and accessories as the symbol of justice, revolution and progress, and grade schoolers still don the red scarf as a token of honour. The Nationalists also once pushed forward the Zhongshan suit as the materialization of national revolution and development of the Three Principles of the People. We can see that not only can heavily politicized clothing not be accepted by the people in the long run, it cannot evolve into the category of traditional clothing, and to the degree of replacing another culture’s dress.Just as the tyranny of over 200 years of Manchu rule and the slogan “Restoring Huaxia Dress” still has a powerful draw, Manchu dress, which has a strong derogatory meaning imbued towards the Han, cannot totally replace the traditional dress of the Han, and the reappearance of the “Shenyi” has then escaped from the individual meaning of ‘antiquarianism’ but rather into the social meaning of re-establishing ethnic identity.

On the other hand, is “wide sleeves and sashes, elegant steps with long skirts are inconvenient in global competition” the only reason to “match our customs with Euro-America”, or is “matching our customs with Euro-America” the only solution to “wide sleeves and sashes, elegant steps with long skirts being inconvenient in the face of global competition?” The answer, needless to say, is no. Otherwise, we would not be able to explain how Japan, our neighbour,  would be able to keep its traditional ethnic dress – the kimono, despite their modernization progress being far ahead to that of China’s. Despite that they have already “cut their hair” and “changed their dress” in the workplace, the kimono is the undisputed international image of the Japanese. At the same time, it cannot explain why the cheongsam and magua regaining popularity today. Hence, it is not hard to conclude that “wide robes and sashes” can still find room for coexistance with modern civilization, nor does ‘following Euro-American customs’ mean simply wearing the clothing of said cultures. In actuality, due to the similarities between Han and Japanese dress, many Revolutionary party members staying in Japan loved to don the kimono, not just for the reason of ‘when in Rome, do as the Romans do’, but more because of their disdain of Manchu clothing and longing for Han traditional dress. Many of them continue to wear the kimono after returning to China: “In 1906 (Guangxu 32), The Shanghai Zhongguo Gongxue where Hu Shih studied in reflected a diverse era of sartorialism. Amidst the student body and faculty, there are those who wear Western suits, while some don the kimono, and others the cheongsam magua, with pigtails behind their heads.”[1:380] Regardless of the standpoint of supporting Chinese local goods, or from supporting ethnic revolution, the chaos of social transition provided room for traditional Han dress to display itself onto the world stage. Amidst the choice of Manchurian robes and magua, Western suits, Zhongshan suits, and traditional Han dress, which was further away from or higher above the political strife and conflict? When the dust of political struggle finally settle, which was more likely to become the people’s choice? The answer almost goes without saying. We can presume, under the circumstance of elevated nationalistic spirits mixed with governmental support, reinstating Han dress is not impossible. Today, when people wear Han dress to the streets again, could we perhaps understand it as: “In the age of change, aside from using dress as a way to express political and religious views, it can also be used to symbolize and mark certain group ideologies, cultural ideals, and use the dress of the individual to foil their rebellious logos toward tradition, which has become a moving and spectacular scene in this century.”[16] If we haven’t misunderstood this, to what degree is this this kind of “rebellion towards tradition” seen as a return and renaissance of Han dress in the late Qing, early Republican era? Without doubt, dress here has surpassed the functional need for survival, and has become a means of expressing a certain cultural language, or even as the cultural language itself. Evidently, “in our age where knowledge and democracy is promoted and respected, the former two kinds of faith become increasingly blurred, the reason being the modern man is much clearer in perceiving that dress is fundamentally insufficient to represent and demarcate a certain kind of political and ideological view, as Baudrillard pointed that the ‘place’ of human existance and their selection of dress does not have an everlasting or inevitable relationship of cause-effect between them.” [16] But in the past and present where nationalism is born and hastened by market economics, the survival of man’s ‘place’ and their choice of dress will have a perhaps un-everlasting yet inevitable causal relationship, and this cause-effect relationship has a decisive if not lethal meaning towards those who can only live under specific historical stages – such as those who had to choose between dress and life during the late Ming, early Qing era.

Thirdly, because the meaning of dress and ethnic identity cannot be underestimated, historical changes in dress and fashion always have profound socio-political meaning, and such meanings are often deemed important by the ruling class. Because culture and national identity and state are closely related, and ethnic identity is a matter within the scope of culture, it reaches out to matters of idiosyncracies, moral, values, philosophies, customs etc.. Hence one’s ethnic traits are deeply rooted in the cultural structure. As dress is an important ingredient to a culture, its unique intuitiveness, continuity and connotative thoughts are obviously equal to that of ethnic identity. History does not limit itself to this incidence when it comes to ethnic identification from dress. “Tang-era dress was differentiated into Hua clothing from Hu clothing, where Hu dress was worn by Northern tribes, and had its influence on Tang people, and Hua dress continues its lineage from Huaxia dress customs since antiquity. The evolution of Tang dress can be divided largely into two periods: Early Tang to Kaiyuan and Tianbao, where Hu dress was la mode; and mid-Tang from Zhenyuan and Yuanhe right to the end, where although Hua and Hu dress coexist, it has gradually restored to its older look as of Han and Wei times. Hua clothing grew in popularity, and Hu dress was largely discarded. This change not only showed the evolution of Tang people’s aesthetic senses, but its underlying change in Yi-Xia [foreign-Huaxia] perspective had lasting effects on future generations.”[17] Hence, “historians who observe ancient cultural development pay particular importance to the mid-Tang, and see it as ‘a turning point in ‘antiquity towards modernity.’ Aside from people like Han Yu who ostracized Buddhism and revived Confucian doctrine in the mid-Tang, the dress reflected this change of Yi-Xia perspective, and at the same time reflected the rejection of foreign culture and trend towards returning to one’s own indigenous culture. These all directly influence the development of Song and subsequent eras’ traditional culture, which forms the transition of ‘Tang-style culture’ and ‘Song-style culture’ as we know it today.”[17] Zhu Yuanzhang established the Ming under the call of “Expelling the Hu barbarians, restoring Zhonghua” and banned Hu dress, especially of parallel-collared robes, while obviously for the purpose of affirming his “own private gains”‘, but “Enforcing the Great Difference between Hua and Yi” on the other hand strengthened Han self-recognition of their ethnic identity. The Queue Order of the Manchu Qing empire led to the Han losing their millennia-old traditional hairstyle and dress, to the degree that “not a trace of Tang-styled dress and headdress was to be found”, not only led to the Han losing that pride, but their dignity, self-confidence in spirit, and even their self-identity became questioned, to the degree that no description is an overstatement. “With the barbarian Yuan toppling the Han, their fortune lasted less than a hundred years, the antiquity was not distant, and the dress and headdress standards was still Han. In addition, the scholar-literati, half with their lineages to Zhao Jianghan, Liu Yin and various saints, many of them can differentiate between Hua and Yi. Hence, when Li Siqi bided his time in Guanzhong, Liu Ji, Xu Da, Chang Yuchun, Hu Shen all then walked toward the ancestor of the Ming [Zhu Yuanzhang], and rose against the Hu, and hence such a feat was ultimately possible.” But then on the other hand “Manchu barbarians have stolen the nation for two hundred and some years, the styles of the Ming and its survivors were naught to be found. With the scholar-literati long under repression and cajoled by foreigners, the oral and textual history forgotten. With all sense of honesty and humility lost, no loss was greater than this. Although people like Luo [Luo Zenan], Zeng, Zuo, Guo claim to be prominent scholars of their time, in the end they fail to understand the great justice of the nation, and is stuck in the ploy of using Han against other Han, and fell to their demise along with the Taiping Tianguo.”[18] After the Republic was established, their “Queue cutting and clothes changing” measures indeed reached their intention of “removing the barbarian customs and fortifying aesthetics”, but it was not to restore the traditional dress of the Han, but to replace it with yet another new set of clothes. If this replacement were really to succeed, naturally it will help strengthen ethnic self-identity, but regrettably, as previously described, this replacement was not successful, because its effects on a new ethnic self-recognition should be limited. If the Xinhai Revolution’s limitations are to be relegated to the ineptitude and compromising nature of the bourgeoisie, the incompleteness of the revolution, and the blind worship of the West, then the performance of this process is particularly evident in sartorial transition. Undoubtably, the Revolutionary Party members had a stronger sense of democracy or global perspective than any previous monarch, but their ethnic sense, especially in their governance sense may not have surpassed those before. Just as how they have failed politically, their sartorial revolution can be said to “have yet to succeed” in the same sense.

Less people this time, but still a decent turnout. Thanks to all who came and participated in the discussion!

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HKReaders – Lecture 1
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Questionnaire used in Lecture 2:
HKReaders – Questionnaire

Audio Recordings: (In Cantonese)
First Lecture: First hour : Second Hour
Second Lecture: First hour : Second hour

For those who have missed our lectures, please feel free to download the audio recordings and listen in with the conjunction of the corresponding Powerpoint slideshow for an optimum experience. Hopefully, a Chinese and later English transcript of the lectures will be made available.

The small bookshop was stuffed with listeners from all kinds of Hong Kong folk.

Facebook event page (Lecture 1): http://www.facebook.com/events/275976325853756/
Facebook event page (Lecture 2): http://www.facebook.com/events/106699626157875/

Powerpoint download here: HKReaders – Lecture 1

Recording: First hour :
Second Hour (Cantonese)

A great thanks to the Hanfu groups in Hong Kong, including hanfu.hk and PropLuxurians for their recommendation to  host this Cantonese talk series at HK Reader, a Mong Kok bookshop specializing in sociology, anthropology, and political science topics. We had an excellent turnout and the small bookshop was filled up and downstage with listeners, where we shared insights and opinions from 8PM to 10PM on the causes of the hanfu movement, ethnic identity, and the importance of developing a taxonomy and vocabulary of describing things. We hope to see you all, as well as new friends, in our next lecture, to be held on November 4 (two weeks from now), at HK Reader bookshop in Mong Kok, from 8PM to 10PM (HKT)!

The original Chinese notice is as follows: 漢服/運動系列講座「快樂鬥爭」模式、透過「正能量」文藝與耍樂方式，跟傳統示威方式別樹一格，香港人從保衛菜園村運動中記憶猶新。同樣，中國大陸的「80、90後」早已在互聯網策劃以及著手以穿著漢民族傳統衣裝的方式向中國的民族及文化政策和平異議。
奈何，他們卻遇媒體與大眾冷嘲熱諷為「做戲穿越」，甚至幾乎年年都遭到群體暴力逼害。但當華人留學生在他邦穿上華夏衣冠時，卻獲當地人熱烈歡迎及鼓勵。在一連串似乎無甚麼政治急切性的事件中，蘊藏著多少玄機？香港人對此事無動於衷，但是為甚麼本土化思想卻一定要參考此事呢？
多倫多大學東亞研究系、香港中文大學比較及公眾歷史系碩士生楊儁立為大家由淺入深、一起探討中國乃至全球華人的自我認同焦慮及一些「說不出的問題」。第一講﹕廿一世紀漢文化復興運動: 物質的系統

日期：10月21日(星期日)
時間：晚上8時至10時
地點：序言書室（旺角西洋菜南街68號7字樓）
講者：Juni L. Yeung 楊儁立 (雪亭)-多倫多大學東亞研究系學士/香港中文大學比較與公眾歷史系碩士生/多倫多古琴社社長(創辦人)/前多倫多漢服復興協會成員

第二講﹕漢服運動現今的挑戰﹑盲點﹑與爭議

日期：11月4日(星期日)
時間：晚上8時至10時
地點：序言書室（旺角西洋菜南街68號7字樓）
講者：Juni L. Yeung 楊儁立 (雪亭)-多倫多大學東亞研究系學士/香港中文大學比較與公眾歷史系碩士生/多倫多古琴社社長(創辦人)/前多倫多漢服復興協會成員

Some of the better examples of redesigned Hanfu.

Ever since hanfu came into public light in 2003 as a ‘contemporary fashion’, countless criticisms attacked on how ‘impractical’ or ‘inconvenient’ hanfu is to wear and work in. While pundits defended their position by suggesting the Shuhe and Ruqun with fitting widths, others have been investigating into the possibilities of designing or “remaking” the clothing into a more ‘modern’ one.Examining the finer details of the modifications made to traditional designs allow us an glimpse of the current Chinese impression of ‘modern’ clothing – the shortening of sleeves and skirt hems, bodice-hugging figures, and a general penchant for giving men’s fashion more designs in the top/trouser genre, relegating the long robe design more into the historical category. These modifications reflect this generation of Chinese designers’ views on clothing as an embodiment of gender, social class, and “the epoch” of modernity as an antithesis of a perceived “tradition”. They may choose to enforce or challenge these conceptual constructs (such as giving the girl a dress modelled after a Zhuzi Shenyi, a traditionally strictly male design, as seen on image, top left), but more often face greater influence or even pressure from modern standards rather than historical ones. This contradiction becomes even more ironic when the purpose of the Hanfu movement, described by its founders as a “New Citizen movement”, is to “repel foreign standards and universal values”, when the roots of these biases on gender and class are largely traced to Western fascism of the late 19th to mid 20th century, where segregation and differentiation of such values had a marked effect on the way the world dressed.Jack D. Eller argues that “within nation-building…the sustaining of national identity, ‘traditional’ or ‘authentic’ practices are not just statements about ethnic origins. They are likely to be deliberate political revernacularisations of the national or indigenous past, a strategy to make the past palatable and consumable by the present.” (Eller 1997: 573-4, quoted from Maynard: 84) The deliberate reinvention of hanfu through a so-called ‘modern eye’ by designers Chinese or otherwise is a complex interplay on cultural ‘ingredient mix-ratios’, narrative, and the litmus to outward perception of indigenous culture toward a Euro-American ‘faceless’ sartorial and cultural ’sameness’, and therefore an undeniably universal need to address the issue – a reality defeating many criticisms online on the necessity of emphasizing a ‘national’ or ‘ethnic’ Han dress.

The Drawing Board – 2006 to present.

Over the course of public discussion, the school uniform became the testing ground for ‘real-world plausibility’ of a design. In the modern Asian context, school uniforms are the most ubiquitous symbol of uniformity and professional affiliation. Large corporates and school uniforms are the norm in contrast to common understanding in Europe and America, favoring group identity over the need of individual expression.

The idea of adopting hanfu as a representative image of Chinese scholasticism has long roots as a long visual and material history of scholar’s robes and official wear stretch across dynasties, and was once revived by certain institutions in the Republican period, for example Fu Jen Catholic University. To date, no Chinese university or national university system has officially adopted hanfu, but sporadic initiatives by graduating student classes leave evidence of a demand for China’s unique image in its academicals design. Due to the limitations of these student initiatives, there is an observable lack of conformity between the occasions, denoting the limited availability including financial and logistical realities in procuring the articles of clothing, differences in understanding or interpretations of which hanfu article to wear, as well as a lack of a clear, accessible and authoritative central standard for students to reference upon. That is not to say, however, that no such attempts were given.

In 2006, riding upon the pre-Olmypic cultural wave, Chinese civilian and public scholars (many of which run private Confucian tutelages) publicized two petitions for the use of hanfu in Chinese post-secondary institutions and the Olympic games itself, respectively. While neither proposal ultimately convinced the authority to adopt the plans, it provided a guideline for contemporaries (such as various graduating classes from 2008 to present) to establish a basis of which hanfu design to adopt in their individual attempts.

High school or grade school uniforms were possibly also considered from the same period, but no substantial proposal was widely known until Longnu Yujun’s digital drawings and prototype design photos were publicized on Baidu Hanfu Bar in 2009. Taking on then-popular discussions of the ruqun and aoqun designs, Longnu ‘modernized’ the design by essentializing the collar curves to a straight line, adopted the use of snap buttons, as well shorten limb coverings (sleeves and skirt length) to resemble the business suit. Keeping true to this doctrine, the corresponding male design proposal had much less influence from traditional proportions and cut, featuring a modified Western shirt, blazer, and trousers to give off an essentialized facade of hanfu’s iconic cross-collared, sash-tied design. It is an interesting to compare the ‘degree of Westernization’ among the two designs for the two sexes, especially when we trace the ideas of the modern business suit to John Molloy’s Dress for Success (1975) and the woman’s ‘power-dressing’ in Women: Dress for Success (1980), as “women were encouraged to wear tailored suits that would place them alongside men in suits. It was a form of attire, ostensibly concerned with female empowerment in the male dominated workplace; one that enabled them to walk the compromisingly thin line between conventional notions of ‘femininity’ and ‘maculinity’.” (Entwistle 2000: 229, cited in Maynard: 45) Responses for Longnu’s male design was comprised of mainly disappointment or criticism on the overbearing similarity of the Western suit, which they deemed as contrary to the ‘indigenous element’ they could easily relate to in the female design. Longnu later does admit to the internal stresses and engendered preconceptions on clothing design and promised reflection on later designs, such as the sketches found on the top figure of this essay. This reflects Maynard’s account of the suit’s ‘desirable imprint of the success of capitalism and of professional status’ and Hollander’s description as “a heady mix of abstract formality, superiority, seriousness and strong masculine sex appeal” (Maynard: 44) having a significant legacy in the mindspace of modern Chinese and their preconceptions and ideals toward modern dress.

Therefore, it is safe to relate that in the eyes of the hanfu activists, the ‘indigenous aspect’ of this new proposed design is the key to empowerment, but yet sometimes deemed contradictory due to competing (Western) forms and ideas on the concept, ingrained in form of preconceptions in sex and engenderment, global homogeneity and social roles. Such forms of Western gender standards are observably imposed amongst the ‘modern revisionist’ designs, as we can see in CHU Yan and ZHANG Jing’s “Celestial Spring (Shili Chunqiu)” brand release fashion show in August 2012 in Beijing. The show titled itself as “Tradition and Creation”, and claimed that it was “inspired by 5000 years of glorious Chinese sartorial custom, but not adament or obsessive on any particular dynasty.” With the exception of four displays depicting more traditional forms of male long robes, all of the remaining 14 models wore some form of top/trouser pairing, whereas 6 of the 13 female outfits were top/trouser pairs and the remaining 7 of top/skirt design. The same is true when we examine other ‘modernized’ designs and conjectures from recent previous years.

Shili Chunqiu 2012 Fashion show – children’s apparel (school uniform?)

It is important to also note that the only exhibition of children’s clothing was interpreted as a “school uniform” design, while all other adult designs have not shown any relation or connotation to any academic or professional linkage. The only other obviously ‘situational’ or ‘function-oriented’ design would only be the wedding outfit shown at the end of the whole panel. It is perhaps understandable why this attribution was made when we examine the child models’ pose and accessorization, as the girl wore loose socks and strapped Mary-jane shoes, and both children held Chinese traditional string-bound books in their hands, symbolizing study and academia. Others have related the designs to the ‘May Fourth student outfit’ due to their similar lengths and proportions.

However, this design has considerable distance to current school uniform designs found on the mainland or its Special Administrative Regions. Some private schools and late secondary institutions in Hong Kong use the business suit model and adopt the shirt and blazer, while the majority of mainland public schools use track suits as standard uniforms as well as physical education outfits. Hong Kong schoolgirls enjoy a wide array of uniform designs, but generically fall into the one-piece dress, with the occasional qipao-based design and even rarer sailor uniform. Boys have a much tighter selection, mostly based on the shirt-trouser design in various degrees of dress  or undress with ties and blazer jackets, or the self-opted wool cardigan.

From the point of available varieties of modern uniform design, current hanfu-based uniform design can only be described as ‘poor’ or ‘underdeveloped’, largely based on preconceptions and images of available and imagined pasts. For example, one or two-piece robes are nothing unfamiliar to the female wardrobe (the Empress’s formal coronation robes is a Shenyi), yet the closest relevant design – the Tieli, with a pleated wraparound skirt joined to a tight-sleeved cross-collared top  – is usually deemed as ‘Ming-style male fashion’, attributing various limitations in temporality and gender role. To draw on the existing (generally recognized) male design into the domain of the female would be no small travesty upon the credibility of the new design as a ‘passed-down traditional’ one.

When such acts are done, such as Longnu Yujun’s black-white ‘miniaturized Shenyi’ dress, the piece is examined through the exotic eye, where the wearer is experimenting with the realm of crossdressing. While the piece may be passable to the aesthetic sense, more frowns will be given when considering on the ‘properness’ of the dress as it infringes on the propriety of male dress and hence a grave transgression on the roles of the sexes based on Confucian ideals – to which the Shenyi is the iconic dress of the said doctrine.

Junshin Girls’ High School uniform, Nagasaki. Structural resemblence to the Tieli, yet unmistakably female to the modern eye? (Image from Yasuda, Makoto. Joushikou Seifuku Hyakka, p.135)

Yet, when we adapt the core elements of a design, we may unintentionally find ourselves intuitively reidentify the reinvention as something totally different. Taking the Tieli example again, should one adopt its top-bottom cutting, with a pleated skirt and topped with a belt, we come to a close similarity with the jumper or one-piece dress found in Western girls’ uniform design. When styled in the right proportions, we have a piece that resembles a (Western) schoolgirls’ uniform, yet every component and structure created from existing Chinese elements (see figure 2, labelled “2012 – Juni Yeung’s sketches”). To this end, is this design ‘traditional’, ‘takes on traditional elements’, or ‘completely new’? Are the lines and shapes in the new design of a specific culture’s propriety? Ultimately, is this design even still Chinese?

To further on the argument on engendered dress, attached is another variant very similar in structure to the female version but modelled and intended for a male wearer. The lack of pleats on the ‘male’ design while the ‘female’ design depends on it – the opposite is the gender norm when we look back to historical artifacts. Whose standards is it that gave the underlying notions that certain designs are ‘for a specific sex’? What are the limits to the proprieties of sex in clothing design? Taken to an extreme, is there even a need to develop a strictly sexually differentiated design? These challenges imposed from the ‘invention’ of a new dress show only the beginnings of the challenges in the clash between cultures and widespread preconceptions on class, temporality, and sex. It is my hope that with the right mixture of questioning and direction, we can reverse or correct some of the more conformist social assumptions that has led to countless cases of discrimination and oppression, and achieve an innovated social standard that is unassuming and broadly accepting – and we get to wear that message boldly for the world to see.

For more information and references, please see Margaret Maynard, Dress and Globalization, Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2004.

To Chinese University Hong Kong!

Dear zhiyin, friends, and students at TorGuqin;

Allow me to express my gratitude for all your years of support and love for Chinese culture and the guqin. Without your enthusiasm, open ears and dedication to pick up this art, Toronto would not have become the hotbed for the revival of Chinese traditional arts as a living, youthful experience that we are now witnessing worldwide. More importantly, we would not have been as fruitful and productive to the development of guqin culture without your participation and feedback, which led to the publication of Standards of the Guqin.

It saddens me a little to think that I am leaving the city just as we are reaching new highs and pushing breakthroughs with our efforts in sharing long-lost melodies with the Toronto community, but new opportunities rise from a 1-year study at the Chinese University of Hong Kong, the home of many Fanchuan-school qin players and a venerable Chinese studies institution. It is my hope that by sharing insights with the masters in relevant fields, TorGuqin’s horizons will expand in profound ways for the future.

I encourage students to practice and continue to keep in touch and participate actively in music-sharing in form of yajis and gatherings. However, my personal tutorials (lessons) will not be offered from September 2012 to a projected date of May 2013. Except for Internet-based contact methods, all other contact information will be rendered defunct as of September, or next week.

This site will continue to be updated as usual in regards to TorGuqin member activity in Toronto, as well as new translations and essays. Moreover, ponderings and events on guqin and hanfu circles in Hong Kong and China will come to you from firsthand experiences, from the heart of the action.

Stay mellow.

Juni L. Yeung
Chairman, Toronto Guqin Society

Find us & talk on Facebook Guqin International: http://www.facebook.com/groups/guqinguqin/

Behind every published book is a tale of a treacherous journey.

As the re-release of the Standards of the Guqin draws near, I sit back to look at the uneventfulness of the work’s publication. The biggest problems of the book came in two major hurdles – the first being skepticism on the necessity of creating an original book rather than translation of an existant Chinese work, and the latter being technical errata that plagues the work from distribution on eBook and larger channels such as ChaptersIndigo, Amazon, and Barnes and Noble. These problems, however, are but miniscule in comparison to the dark stories of traditional publishing, especially related or in academia.

The recent buzz of the Hanfu circle is the royalties from the publication of Huang Nengfu’s hardcover 5-volume compendium 7000 Years of Chinese Clothing being paid in 65 copies (325 books) of his own work rather than the monetary sum of 80,000 RMB. The 85-year old master and his wife Chen Juanjuan are both students of the late Chinese fashion history scholar (and poet) Shen Congwen. Some netizens expressed outrage and called for boycotting the work in protest of Tsinghua Publishing Co., the publishing house, for unfair treatment towards the writer. Nonetheless, this arrangement was offered and agreed by the author, and the practice of payment by a portion of the print run at reduced price has becoming increasingly commonplace.

the author meeting with Dr. Tong Kinwoon in October 2010. The qin in the author’s hands has been newly repaired by Dr. Tong.

When I shared my experience of writing and publishing to Dr. Tong Kin-Woon of Hong Kong, he shared his experiences of writing his magnum opus Qin Fu with me. First published in 1971 and reprinted in 1981, Qin Fu was inspired by the Qinqu Jicheng project by Beijing Guqin Research Association on PRC shores in the 1960′s but was halted by the Cultural Revolution. As an young, ambitious undergrad, Tong and his first (now deceased) wife travelled across libraries and private collections all over Taiwan to compile a reference compendium of all surviving guqin manuscripts. Being financially strapped, Tong couldn’t afford the expensive photocopying and copyright fees, and spent weeks in the university library copying entire manuscripts of text, musical notation, and diagrams by hand. Living on dry bread and water alone, this took a heavy toll on their health.

If that seemed difficult enough on the path to publication, try adding on political pressure. Traditional publishing meant that custom plates had to be carved for each page, making any book only cost-effective at large print runs. As an academic resource with nearly 5000 pages, it was obvious that the costs involved will be much higher than return – if any at all. Tong had to raise over 70,000 Taiwan dollars and find a press willing to undertake the monumental task. When the first print run of 300 copies came out, Tong and his publisher, a Mr. Shen, was in for the scare of a lifetime.

Tong Kinwoon. Qin Fu (3 vols). Taipei. 1971.

Liang Tsai-Ping, a reknowned guzheng master and guqin player, as well as a minister at the Republic of China Ministry of Commerce [Economic Affairs?] at the time, caught notice of Tong’s work. He wrote a secret note extorting ten copies (30 volumes) of the work or face persecution. The reason laid in Tong’s inclusion of Guqin Quji, the well-known “yellow book”, in his work.

For those who have seen the version of the Guqin Quji in the Qin Fu, the first interesting difference compared to the mainland copy was in the byline. Rather than the Beijing Guqin Research Association, it was simply a person by the name “Zha Zhaoyu 查照雨“. This lesser-known studio name combo for Zha Fuxi was put in place afterward to avoid Republican government censors, and the reason behind it laid another story.

While the name Zha Fuxi today relates us to a guqin master two generations ago, the man lived a fascinating life in the midst of turmoil. Born as Zha Zhenhu 查鎮湖, he first changed his name to Yiping 夷平 to escape Chiang Kai-Shek’s crackdown on underground Communists, and had a distinguished (but short) career in the Republican military. He was later made a corporate executive in the government-owned Central Air Transport Company (CATC).  On November 5, 1949, he utilized his position and connections as a retired CATC executive to convince the retreating airline officials to turn over all assets to the Communists, and was instrumental to directing 10 CNAC and 2 CATC passenger planes in Hong Kong at the time to fly back to Beiping and Tianjin on the dawn of November 9. The executives onboard the lead CV-240 plane, including Zha Yiping, were personally received by premier Zhou Enlai that evening. The remaining planes and jets in Hong Kong were detained by the British at Kai Tak Airport, and while some were destroyed by ROC spies and others smuggled bit by bit up to Guangzhou, most were taken by the United States after international arbitration. This heist is recorded in PRC history as the “Uprising of the Two Airlines 兩航起義”, while outside the PRC it is known as the “Two Airline Incident 兩航事件”.

Like all others who’ve defected to the Communists, Zha Yiping (Fuxi) was on the Republican government to-kill blacklist. Using this point to his advantage, Liang’s accusation of Tong “conspiring with the Communists” was no empty threat. Fearing for their lives, Tong and Shen packed the books into a minivan and shipped it in the middle of the night. Indirectly, this incident has added yet another alias to Zha Fuxi’s list of alternate names into history.

Like the airline heist itself, neither side of the Republican-Communist conflict has ultimately benefitted anyone, and looking back on this age several decades past the standoff, one can only absorb the moral and never let civil strife and its lingering effects repeat itself again.

Musideum: A World of Musical Instruments features Standards of the Guqin on its shelves!

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/events/389786531088646/

Come for an intimate evening of transcendent music and talk on the guqin, the Chinese 7-stringed zither, hosted by Musideum and Juni Yeung of the Toronto Guqin Society, as “Standards of the Guqin”, the first and only (to-date) English instruction book on the instrument, is relaunching into its second and expanded edition!

2 years and over 30 new pages later, the book features clear digital-type tablature for all sheet music, as well as a new section on tablature interpretation process, known as dapu.

The talk/concert will take place on Friday, August 10, 2012,
from 8PM at Musideum.

Standards of the Guqin Second Edition now out in stores! Go get your copy today!

Please RSVP with Donald Quan for tickets and/or preorder of the book, at (416) 599-7323 or info@musideum.com.
Admission to the event is $20,
while the book is sold for CAD$45, along with a personalized dedication autograph by the author on the site.

Xuefei-jun, the author of the jade-belt tutorial. He is wearing a blue yesa with an embroidered zhaojia.

Source: http://tieba.baidu.com/p/1722124683?pn=1
Original title: 明代 革带 玉带 制作研习 [Ming era leather belt/jade belt making exercise]
By: Xuefeiun 雪飛君
Translation: Juni Yeung

Translation foreword: There is not much to translate for this post. The author’s photo essay is very intuitive and descriptive in its images, but it lacks descriptions in the materials and techniques in the carving and resin preparation. He attributes the resin-making expertise to another group in Beijing, so staying true to the original text, no addendum will be added on the resin preparation method.

According to Dong Jin’s Daming Yiguan Tuzhi, this tutorial lacks detailing on the metal hook and buckle work, as well as the absence of two small pieces of jade known as the Zuofu and Youbi , situated between the Yuantao and Tawei. For a glossary of the Chinese terms, please refer to the image below:

A glossary of the Jade Belt’s parts’ names. Image from Daming Yiguan Tuzhi.

***

Because of the high prices of jade, custom orders of jade carvings is only even more restrictive. So, why not enrich our own life by doing it ourselves? I have collected a lot of materials on the jade belt, and Jiefang Zhuren’s Daming Yiguan Tuzhi has given me great help. Ming-era jade belts are mostly worn loose and are seldom strapped tightly around the body. But, I still made it tight. Due to the length constraints, the Paifang squares are now arranged vertically.

Let’s take a look at the final product first:

The jade belt.

Let us begin, by carving the leather strips: 

Leather strips for the 3-part belt.

And then let us begin carving. Our models will be made in fine oil clay.
The Santai ["three platforms", front buckle] part consists of five-clawed dragon and auspicious cloud motifs. 

Carving the Santai.

The Yuantao ["round peach", front decor plates] is a Chrysanthemum-out-of-Water motif. I couldn’t wait and wanted to try putting it onto the belt to see the effect first!

Carving the Yuantao.

The Tawei ["tail weights", belt tips] is made with the douniu ["dipper-ox", one of the 28 Chinese constellations] motif. For a moment, it turned out to be really a ‘bull’ of a job! 

Carving the Tawei.

The Paifang ["aligned squares", back decor plates] making details are as follows. 

Carving the Paifang.

After the models are made, time to make the moulds. Thanks to “Perfect World [wanmei shijie]“ and “Tiangong Modellers [tiangong muojie shoubanzu]” for their assistance!

Making the moulds for resin replicas.

Fine-tuning the resin material, quality check and installation. 

Moulding and assembly of the Jade belt.

Finished.

The completed jade belt, with all its parts separated.

Standards of the Guqin score “Xianweng Cao” Section 1, as seen in the First edition and the upcoming Second edition.

== This is an important announcement to those who would like to purchase this book. ==

Standards of the Guqin will be publishing an expanded Second Edition within the month on Lulu.com. Many previous errors, minor and major, have been corrected, as well as additional essays and expanded technical details on various matters from how to calculate the positions of the hui markers to tying the fly knot more effectively.

Most importantly, however, is the expansion of 6 new lessons and an entirely new chapter of the book, as well as a total update on all the music scores in the book into a digitally-printed from the previous handwritten scans! A look at the image to the right and you will see that the improvement is a dramatic one.

The only thing that will not change, is the retail price. With nearly 40 pages of new content, Standards of the Guqin Second Edition will be available on Lulu.com at US$30.00.

Please stay tuned for the book launch information, and the related launch event in Toronto when it’s out!

Addendum: For those who are looking for lessons, please read the curriculum prior to contacting the instructor.

Translator’s foreword: On the 23rd anniversary of the June 4, 1989 Tian’anmen Massacre, here is the first part of a remembrance towards those whose talent was drowned away in the torrent of Chinese modernity.

The 20th century was an era of constant turmoil and revolution. Never in any previous period of Chinese history seen war, regime change, revolution and reform, and inquisitions in such an intense timeframe. “Scar literature” is a particular type of literature produced in form of fiction and non-fictional accounts from people retelling the tales of those times, particularly on hardship, death and persecution from the Communist revolutions. Here we have true accounts of how such scars have left its mark on the qin world.

From the Death of Pei Tiexia to the Dissapearance of Pu Xuezhai

Lvhe Qin Society in Sichuan along with Zha Fuxi and Hu Yingtang from Shanghai Jinyu Qin Society in Year Dingchou (ROC 26, 1937). Pei Tiexia is 2nd from right in the front row.

Ever since I started learning the qin as a teenager, I’ve heard of Sichuan school master Pei Tiexia’s fame, but never of his playing’s recordings, let alone his published manuscripts during the Republican era. Pei Tiexia is a Chengdu resident during the late Qing and Republican era, born to a family of landowner bourgeois reactionary classes, and is a Fanchuan (Pan-Sichuan) school player. Many Sichuan-school players then also had roots in Yushan-school style (from Changshu, near Shanghai). Pei Tiexia was the prime example of such a player. His lineage was from Cheng Fu, the disciple of Zhang Ruishan. Why is it that we seldom see information about him? I only learned later on that during the 1950′s, he committed suicide after an abhorration. Why did he commit suicide? How did he do it? With the rumours urging for silence, I only knew after checking the records that he perished during the land-reform era.

In Autumn 2007, Sichuan qin maker He Mingwei visited Beijing, and I invited him for dinner. Mr. He talked about many things and anecdotes in the past about Pei Tiexia. Later, I received in the mail from Mr. He’s disciple Tang Qiao the facimile of Pei’s works Shayan Qinbian 《沙堰琴编》 manuscript and Qin Yu 《琴余》, dated 1946. I was read these works excited through the night, sight-reading through these once-forgotten scores, and reminiscing of the sounds of Shuanglei, the “Twin Lei qin owner”, with bittersweet thoughts.

The Pei household is on Tongren Road in Shaocheng District of Chengdu, and is a secluded compound in the city. Pei intended to be a qin teach all his life, hence a sign read outside the door: “This studio teaches the elegant music of the seven-strings.” Pei’s compound had two zhennan trees in the courtyard, hence his studio is called Shuang-nan Tang, or “Twin Zhennan Hall”. Also because Pei Tiexia and his wife Ms. Shen each had a Tang dynasty qin, one large and one small, made by the famous Lei clan, his home was also called Shuang-lei Zhai, or “Twin Lei Studio”. It was also because of the famed Twin-Lei story that led to one of the largest incidents in modern qin history.

Looking back on Pei Tiexia’s suicide, the most famous account and eulogy was written by Sichuan University Literature professor Zeng Zhen, who wrote a prose titled Shuanglei Yin 《雙雷引》, quote:

蓝桥生者，家素封居成都支机石附近。耿介拔俗。喜鼓琴，能为《高山流水》《春山杜鹃》《万壑松风》《三峡流水》《天风海涛》之曲，声名籍甚。英国皇家音乐学院致厚币徵为教授，谢不往。人以此益高之。家藏唐代蜀工雷威所斫古琴，甚宝之。后从沈氏复得一琴，比前差小，龙池内隐隐有“雷霄”题字。因目前者为大雷，后者为小雷。

A scholar by the alias Lanqiao, has a home near Zhijishi of Chengdu, is a bluntly honest character removed from worldly matters. He loved to play qin, and could play Gaoshan Liushui, Chunshan Dujuan, Wanhe Songfeng, Sanxia Liushui, Tianfeng Haitao and many other pieces, and was reputed for so. The Royal Conservatory of Music in England invited him as a professor to teach there. He refused, and people respected him all the more for it. His home had a qin made by Tang dynasty maker Lei Wei, which he quite treasured. Later, his wife Ms. Shen reacquired another qin, slightly smaller than the former, with the inscription “Lei Xiao” inside the Dragon Pool. Hence the two qins were called “Da-Lei” (Big Lei) and “Xiao-Lei” (Small Lei).

先是，成都有沈翁者，精鉴古物，蓄小雷，极珍秘。育一女。将殁，谓女曰：“若志之，有能操是琴者，若婿也。”生适鳏，闻之心动，往女家，请观琴，为鼓一再。归，遣媒妁通聘，故琴与女同归生。生于是挟两琴，拥少艾，隐居自乐，若不知此身犹在人间世也。

Let us backtrack, Chengdu had a master appraiser by the family name Shen, who owned the Small Lei as a family treasure. He had a daughter, whom he told on his deathbed to her, “If you so wish, whomever can play this qin, shall be my son-in-law.” The scholar was recently widowed, and was moved by such news. He went to the lady’s house and asked to see the qin, whom he later played. He went home, and sent out a marriage proposal. As such, the qin and the lady both went to the scholar. With two famous qins and young children, they were happy in their secluded living, as if in some otherworldly paradise.

改革后，家中落，鬻所有衣物自给。将及琴，则大恸，谓女曰：“吾与卿倚双雷为性命，今若此，何生为！”遂出两琴，夫妇相与捶碎而焚之，同仰催眠药死。

After the Revolution, the family declined, and they sold all their clothing for sustenance. When the qin came under threat, he responded with great emotion, telling his wife, “Both you and me hold the twin Lei’s as our own lives. If it comes down to this, for what have we left to live for!” He and his wife took out the two qins, smashed them to bits and burned them, and died together from an overdose in soporific drugs.

死后，家人于案上发见遗书一纸，又金徽十数枚，书云：“二琴同归天上，金徽留作葬费。”乃以金徽易棺衾而殡诸沙堰。沙堰者，生之别业。生著有《沙堰琴编》一书，此其执笔处也。

After they died, his family found a letter on the desk, along with ten or twenty gold inlaid pieces. The letter wrote, “The two qins are both now in Heaven, the gold inlaid hui markers I leave behind as burial fees.” The gold inlaid pieces were then used to pay for the coffins and laid to rest along Shayan. Shayan was the other work of the scholar’s life, as he wrote “The Shayan Qin Compilation” (Shayan Qinbian) in this very place.

余初与生不稔，而数传言，将招余为座上客，余漫应之。一日，果折柬见邀，至，则同坐者三人。一为谢无量先生，一则杨君竹扉，其馀一人不知姓名，指而介云：此熊经鸟申之异人某君也。客既不俗，而庭前花木颇幽邃，所出肴馔、茶具，皆精洁无比。宴罢，生出所藏诸琴示客。竹扉一一目之，曰：若者唐，若有宋，若者元明以下；而唐最佳，小者尤佳。即小雷也。生大诧，自谓天下辨琴莫己若，不意竹扉亦能此。既而正襟危坐，授小雷，奏《平沙落雁》，曲终，顾诸客曰：“何如？”或应曰：“甚善。”生笑曰：“君虽言善，未必知其所以善。”其自负，类如此。

At first when I have not had the chance to meet this gentleman, he eventually invited me to visit his place after hearing about it through word of mouth. One day, I saw an official invitation coming, and I went to his place. I saw three people sitting, one was Mr. Xie Wuliang, the other Yang Zhuping, and the last one I knew not his name. I was introduced to him as “This is Mr. XX, of bear trails and bird paths. The guests invited were no ordinary people, the gardens were elegant and secluded, and the dining and tea wares were all exquisite. After the banquet, the scholar showed his qins for all to see. Zhuping examined them, and said, “There are Tang [qins], and there are Songs, and there are Yuan-Ming and so on. Tang (dynasty) specimens were the best of all, and small ones particularly so.” The scholar was greatly surprised, and claimed that he saw no greater appraiser of instruments as himself, and never expected Zhuping also to be proficient in such. He sat straight up, took the small Lei qin, and played Pingsha Luoyan (Geese Landing on Flat Sands). After the piece ended, he looked toward his guests, “What do you think?” and the response came as, “Quite well.” He laughed and said, “You say it was good, but only because you may not understand what it was about!” His boastful attitude as such was often like so.

方改革时，生以耽琴故，不问世事，于革命大义殊瞢然，人亦无以告知者。使生至今尚在，目睹国家新兴，必将操缦以歌升平之盛，然而生则既死。余偶适西郊，道经沙堰，见一抔宛然，而人琴已亡，作“双雷引”以哀之。

During the beginning of the Revolution, the scholar was engrossed in the qin and cared naught for worldly matters. He was ignorant of the message and importance of the Revolution, and the people had nothing to tell. If he was still alive today and saw the flourishing of the new state, he certainly would strum the strings to praise its prosperity. Alas, what is born must someday cease. As I live in the Western suburbs, a strike of melancholy hits me as I pass Shayan every time. As both the man and his instrument are gone, I write this “Twin-Lei Prologue” to remember the occasion.

Zeng Zhen’s poem is too long, as it mainly describes Pei’s obsession with the qin and his life. I shall quote four lines from it:

郎殉瑶琴妾殉郎 The man dies for the qin, the lady dies for the man,
人琴一夕竟同亡 Alas, man and qin suddenly decease in one night.
流水落花春去也 Gone is the spring with flowing water and fallen flowers,
人间天上两茫茫 As realms mortal and Heaven both look bleak.

Zeng wrote this essay during the 50′s or 60′s, during the sensitive period of the Revolution, and was published in Chongqing Shici  anthology Vol.3 in 1994. Zeng Zhen, courtesy name Shengyan, is a native of Malingxiang of Xuyong in Sichuan Province. He died in public persecution during the Cultural Revolution, due to some of his prose and poetry. Zeng’s works often used indirect reference, and this “scholar of Lanqiao” is an alias for Pei Tiexia, its origins coming from a Tang era tale anthology Chuanqi.

The story goes like this: In Changqing, there is an Imperial examinee named Pei Hang, who passed by Lanqiao station post. He was thirsty, and saw an old lady weaving linen by a hut. He bowed and asked for a drink, and the old lady had her granddaughter Yun Ying carry a jug of wine. From inside the bamboo curtain came a pair of jade-delicate hands holding the jug, and the brew tasted like the Jade nectar, which its exotic fragrances perforated everywhere. Pei Hang wanted to return the jug, so he lifted the curtain. He was shocked at Yun Ying’s beauty, and proposed to marry her. The old lady said that he must get a jade mortar and pestle in order to marry her, which he indeed found one in Chang’an. He returned to Lanqiao post station to marry her, and it is said the couple both drifted off into a grotto on Jade Peak as immortals.

Zeng Zhen’s use of the “Lanqiao scholar” as an alias was to cover up the identity of Pei Tiexia, and his family’s tragedy.
Since the twin Lei’s were originally the Shen family’s treasure, another rumor went that Pei Tiexia married Ms. Shen for the qin, for Ms. Shen was said to only have mediocre looks, and Pei’s family was better off and Tiexia himself was proficient with the instrument. Regardless, this also reflects Pei Tiexia’s level of obsession with the qin.

In 1937, Pei Tiexia and Sichuan school representative player Yu Shaoze founded “Chengdu Lvhe Qin Society”, and “Xiuming Qin Society” in 1947. He gathered fellow qin players, and held receptions for famous players from other places like Zha Fuxi, Hu Yingtang, Xu Yuanbai and more. [TL note: Many of whom fled to Sichuan during the war or retreated with the Republican Army to nearby Chongqing.] But with the change of history and the extrematizing of society, Pei Tiexia kept his opinions to himself. Except for a selected few, he seldom made contact with others, and was fanatical in Buddhism. His third son was a Republican Army officer, hence during the first Suppressing of Counter-Revolutionaries, when even the lowest tier of landlords were publicly shot, the atmosphere of fear and ubiquitous violence made Pei Tiexia a cold and removed personality.

Pei Tiexia after 1949 was burning with anxiety towards worldly matters. His eldest son Pei Ti was bedridden in sickness, his second son Pei Yuanling was out of country, but most importantly his third son Pei Yuanjun, despite surrendering during the Communist uprising, was sent to reform school and was killed in 1951. His fourth son Pei Mohen was forced to play the Anklung. Although Pei Tiexia had many children, his couldn’t sustain his family. In early summer 1950, Pei Tiexia and his later wife, with fear and anger towards society, smashed both Lei qins, and drugged themselves to death.

What is this about? This is the glorious display of piety in the face of injustice and violence, on par with Austrian author Stefan Zweig, or Chinese author Fu Lei. Just that Pei Tiexia was less well-known to the world.

Pei Tiexia left a note, pressed by an inkstone:
本来空寂，何有于物，去物从心，立地成佛。 It is originally empty, from where is there object. Doing away with object and following the heart, and instantly one becomes the Buddha (enlightened one).
大小雷琴同登仙界，金徽留作葬费，余物焚毁，铁叟笔。Both large and small Lei qins are now in Heaven, the gold inlaids are left behind for burial fees, the rest are all burnt. Written by Tie-sao.

It was said that Pei said to his wife, “Both you and me hold the twin Lei’s as our own lives. If it comes down to this, what have we left to live for!”

Pei had many qins in his collection. Aside from the large and small Lei qins, he had over 20 top quality instruments dating from the Song dynasty onwards. For example, the Tang era instrument Gulong Yin, and Song era Longxiao. Along with the Lei qins, he called these four the “four Tang qins”. Longxiao is now in the Sichuan University Museum, and Gulong Yin is said to be in Shanghai.

Pu Xuezhai (1st from left). Note that he was given seating and a rug under his feet, denoting his status.

16 years after the death of Pei Tiexia, China was in total turmoil, and the guqin world was in that same state. Many of the guardians of traditional cultures have been drowned out in the Revolution, the Great Leap Forward, anti-Rightist campaign and other ideologies. In old Beijing, the city wall was dismantled as are its gateways. Antiques and paintings were smashed or burned. The people left behind were all like stray dogs, living their lives shivering and walking on thin ice. One of such examples was Pu Xuezhai (1893 -1966).

Pu Xuezhai is a Manchu, a great-grandson the Qing Emperor Daoguang. His grandfather was Fifth Prince Yicong, and his father was beile Zaiying. Pu himself inherited the title bei-zi as a result. His original name is Aisingioro Puxin, alias Xuezhai. He studied literature and arts since a young age, and specialized in guqin, sanxian, calligraphy and painting. He studied qin under Jia Runfeng, disciple of modern qin master Huang Mianzhi. After the Xinhai Revolution of 1911, Pu Xuezhai once sold calligraphy and paintings for a living, and taught as professor and Fine Arts department head of Fu-Jen University in the 1930′s. There, he organized the “Songfeng Painting Club”. He specialized in painting landscape, horses and orchids, and his calligraphy modelled after Mi Fei and Zhao Mengfu. He organized a guqin society in the 1940′s, connecting fellow qin players and encouraging interchange. In the 50′s, he was the Guqin Research Association’s Vice-president, and was often invited to play at Zhongnanhai (the central government). Today, we can hear several of his recordings through Wang Di’s recording of what is now known as “The Old 8″ CD collections.

But as a reminent of the previous dynasty, even his service towards the new state couldn’t shield him from the mess and darkness. At the start of the Cultural Revolution in 1966, many guqin professors in the Central Conservatory like himself , Zha Fuxi and Wu Jinglue were all attacked. As former royalty, naturally his entire family was publically ostracized and his family belongings confiscated. He could not bear with the shame and pain, and suddenly left his home on August 30. Since then, he has become the Chu Anping of the guqin world, the only difference being Chu was already missing during the Anti-Rightist campaign, but Pu went AWOL during the infamous “Red August” period. Since then, nobody knows where he went or where he died. His remains are left nowhere to be found.

For a long time, many people thought that Pu has only hid himself. He did not die.

People fantasized that one day, they would meet a talented and refined old qin player, suddenly appearing from the streets into a yaji, in a long flowing goatee, playing Pu’an Zhou or Oulu Wangji for everyobody in-house. That day never came. Pei Tiexia only left behind his manuscript and no audio recording. Sometimes, I will pull out Pu Xuezhai’s recording instead. What kind of feeling is that? In Pei’s case, my deepest impression is not in how he died, but in that he could think up something as delicate as “leaving the gold inlaid markers of the qin behind as burial fees”. In Pu’s case, it is not in where he has disappeared to, but his playing immortalized on record. Not long ago, I read Lung Ying-Tai’s “Big River, Big Seas – Untold Stories of 1949” [TL note: This book is banned in China], in it was a line that went like this: “At times, when the greatest events are unravelling, the things you will remember sixty years later, are those that may sound the most trivial.” This is what I got from listening to Pu Xuezhai’s recordings. In the era of great turmoil, the music said nothing – just some notes, simple, lofty and distant and grave, but leaves you unthinking, and hence unforgettable.

In guqin history, the only time when large amounts of qin players died of unnatural causes was during the late-Ming, early-Qing era, including figures like Kuang Lu, Hua Xia, and Li Yanshi. This is a suicide out of being those orphaned in a lost dynasty, drowning in despair. Pei Tiexia and Pu Xuezhai’s occurance are also sort of similar as a sentiment of reminents of a bygone time – in a time of terror, holocaust and an irrational totalitarian maelstrom, a person lost their final say about their old time, their old origins, and their old culture. I still feel that both Pei and Pu could somehow make it through, and didn’t have to choose their own destruction. Aren’t there plenty who suffered the same fate and survived by biting the bullet? At least, we don’t have information showing that they had to die. As common proverb says, “old people are most afraid of death,” they are already old men at the time, but they chose death over life. This kind of mental state, sorrow and anger, is what Wang Guowei would describe as “after this change of events, there is already no greater shame” (經此事變﹐義無再辱). This is the kind of death only old-style literati would commit out of anxiety towards society. Martyrdom or not aside, life and death is no trivial matter. I believe, our qin players or literati today often talk of glory, and boast their depth and profoundness. However, once they stand in the face of totalitarianism, profit, the allure of commercial capitalism and the influence of people, what these people lack is, at the most basic level, is a sense of anxiety and uncooperation towards them.

2010-4 in Beijing

Canadian multiculturalism: True mutual integration?

The Hanfu Revival Movement in Toronto
by: Juni L. Yeung

In April 2011, a fiasco arose with Conservative Party of Canada as Immigration Officer Jason Kenney was accused of ‘harbouring hateful sentiments’ towards ethnic minorities as the Party was organizing a photo op with Prime Minister Stephen Harper for the upcoming election. The arrangement was to organize twenty people wearing ethnic garb of their various origins, in order to show the Conservative Party’s support of diversity in the Canadian populace, but the plan was jeered by ethnic associations and other parties alike as ‘a kind of amateurish naivety’ and ‘the height of patronizing, pandering, and belittling the contributions of new Canadians’[1].

While this kind of political stunt is increasingly perceived as a superficial or patronizing action in the West, to the minds of the mainland Chinese, this is all normal and commonplace, as the People’s Republic often sported images and various media of its 56 officially recognized ethnicities, distinguished first and foremost by dress in its own propaganda. A pictorial guide to the recognized Chinese ethnicities, distinguished by dress is posted on the Chinese government portal website[2]. All of these recognized ethnicities are considered to be members of the greater “Chinese ethnicity”, or Zhonghua Minzu as promulgated by the government and taught in school curricula, its imagery are often put on public display, the most recently recognizable one being an event in the 2008 Beijing Olympics Opening and Closing Ceremonies[3]. Despite international and academic skepticism about the international recognition of the success or legitimacy of such an ethnic policy, it is ingrained into the common psyche of the mainland Chinese person, and following the process of emigration, such values are spread to Chinese diaspora communities.

However, as Canadian Chinese society is comprised of subgroups with distinctly different values and cultural contexts, their relation to this ‘mainlander’s issue’ takes on a kaleidoscope of variant interpretations to the necessity of recognizing, having, and wearing Hanfu, a dress otherwise extinct for over three centuries, as the representative ethnic dress of the Chinese people.

The Hanfu Movement: From ethnic policy to traditionalism and politics

The original ‘casus belli’ of the movement can be traced to the APEC 2001 Summit in Shanghai, where Chinese and foreign political leaders alike donned a short magua-inspired jacket they called xin-tangzhuang (“New Chinese Jacket”) made of Chinese brocade with embroidered motifs and cloth frog buttons. Mass television coverage of the leaders led to a fad for the jacket, which was hailed as the modern Chinese national dress, complementing the rising popularity of the qipao or cheongsam at the same time[4]. Some Chinese disagreed, however, citing that this tangzhuang and its predecessor were Manchu designs, which were violently forced upon the various Chinese ethnicities at the beginning of the Manchu Qing Empire and hence cannot represent the true image of Chinese heritage. Debates ran rampant in newsgroups and discussion boards on the rapidly expanding realm of the internet at the time, and like-minded dissidents decided to take more substantial action in protest to popular opinion.

In November 2003, a Zhengzhou electrician named Wang Letian wore a set of cross-collared robes with large sleeves onto the streets, window-shopping and riding on public transit. He was accompanied by a friend who photographed and accounted the happenings then, which were then reported online and later picked up by Lianhe Zaobao of Singapore[5]. The news went viral on the Chinese Internet, and thousands of supporters and like-minded Chinese from around the world collaborated intellectual and creative resources to form what is now known as the Hanfu Fuxing Yundong, or Han Chinese clothing revival movement[6]. While ideological and intellectual production are held online and unbounded by geographic barriers, real life manifestations of this movement lead to the inevitable development of local societies and support groups, first appearing in major Chinese cities like Beijing, Shanghai, and Guangzhou.

            While choice of clothing is a matter of personal expression and freedom, the amount of initial social resistance was unprecedented. In October 2004, A group of people in Beijing dressed in Hanfu and paid their respects to the grave of late Ming dynasty general Yuan Chonghuan, and was reported by the local newspaper Jinghua Shibao as “Hanfu gathering” However, an altered version of the article widely circulated online read “Joss clothing takes to the streets,” which sparked outrage from the group and resulted in litigation towards a Beijing company for slander and name infringement in December 2004[7]. However, verbal and even physical harassment on the internet and to individuals wearing the traditional robes are a daily occurrence in China, as thousands of posts on Hanfu-related forums and bulletin boards (BBSs) flurry with anecdotes ranging from family disagreements and peer heckling[8], to getting their clothing stripped and burned in public by hundreds of protesters, mistaking their clothing as the Japanese kimono[9]. The government’s response to Hanfu and other clothing competing for recognition was also ambivalent, as Cultural Minister Sun Jiazheng noted in an interview, “I have heard about the news of young people wearing Hanfu, but up to now I still do not know what clothing can really represent China, and this is perhaps the greatest anxiety we are facing now.”[10]

            Today, the Movement’s mandate  is to recognize “Hanfu, is the ethnic dress of the ethnic Han people, which was created and evolved as an ethnically distinct clothing, [dating back] from ‘Huang Di draping robes and ruling all under heaven’ to the Ming Dynasty, according to our unique lifestyle and aesthetics, merging together with economic and production standards.”[11] Despite the constant barrage, the movement boasts an ever-expanding support base worldwide, with internet discussion boards and forums membership counting in the tens of thousands and a permeating influence onto all aspects of contemporary Chinese culture, from unofficial to government-organized rallies, to mass media on print, television, and animation. During its heyday in media coverage just prior to the Beijing Olympic Games in 2008, Hanfu was proposed as a revision to the Chinese “national dress”, ethnic dress, and academicals standards in post-secondary institutions.

Hanfu in Toronto : Importing a foreign dress and problem

The first Hanfu group outside of China was formed in August 2006, as a group of ethnic Chinese living in Toronto, Canada was called on by Chin Yuen-Cheung (Qian Yuanxiang) for an impromptu promotion opportunity at the third annual CPAC summer festival. Its promotional catchphrase was copied verbatim from Chinese internet material at the time: “Did you know that: Of the 56 official ethnicities in China, which ethnicity does not have their own ethnic dress? That’s right, the Hans![12]” The group later officiated its name as the Toronto Association for the Revival of Hanfu, or HanfuTor for short. Online, the group was hailed as the vanguard of Hanfu promotion overseas, as it was the first recognizable group outside China to follow the evolving movement, repeatedly appearing in local Chinese newspapers and media in high profile.

During the group’s heyday from 2006 to 2009, Mandarin-speaking mainland Chinese immigrants make up most of the group’s composition, of which the large majority are female, in secondary or post-secondary education. Interviews querying several of these members indicate they were drawn to the movement from reading information available from the Chinese internet portals, and then found their way to the group.[13] Participation in events heavily depended on personal schedule availability, as they can only invest time in ‘extracurricular activities’ on weekends and holidays. Hence, HanfuTor’s founder personally handled most of the poster exhibits on usual weekends in Chinese shopping malls in the Scarborough-Markham area, but for most of the time the area is left unstaffed.

Aside from mundane discussions revolving around internet essay reposting, discussions online focused on two activities: Asking group members to organize a bulk order from a Hanfu store in China in order to minimize risks and share often-expensive shipping costs, and announcements from the founder/president on the next venue of activity, usually a poster exhibition or stage performance activity displaying the various styles of Hanfu design. Although private meetings among members have organized unofficial do-it-yourself (DIY) workshops to learn how to make certain basic articles of clothing, Hanfu of reputable quality is not a commercially available product in Canada and must be imported from China, where even there is limited to specialized boutiques in major urban centres or private ateliers by custom-ordering online.

However, the demographics of HanfuTor’s participation also show the shortcomings of its marketing strategy. Toronto and its surrounding areas’ expanding ethnic Chinese community, asides from mainland emigrants, is comprised of largely Han Chinese who emigrated from Hong Kong and Taiwan in the latter half of the 20^th Century, as well as third or fourth generation descendents of those who immigrated before the Second World War[14]. As none of these groups were previously educated in the PRC’s ethnic policies, the slogan initially had little appeal to the naturalized Canadian “Chinese” label, further specifying not by ethnicity but by hometown, and tend to self-address their kind with the term Hua-ren or Hua-yi (Hua people/descendents). Although some older Hong Kong and Taiwanese immigrants may be familiar with the “Five Races Under One Union” (Wuzu Gonghe) concept as taught in Republic of China (Taiwan) and some Hong Kong schools prior to 1997, the lack of common experience in the Chinese Cultural Revolution which abolished the qipao and magua meant the latter half of the slogan “which ethnicity doesn’t have its own traditional clothing” was previously a non-issue to these groups. By inadvertently introducing the ‘fifty-six ethnic groups’ concept and the underlying context of China’s ethnic policy, narratives expressing skepticism to the movement are subliminally transmitted, which created additional roadblocks to its own objective – to have the politically and socially diverse Chinese community unite to change their impression of traditional dress.

Hanfu in Toronto: Exporting revolution

HanfuTor’s disposition as a ‘foreign’ organization to an otherwise strictly Chinese movement had brought international attention. While individuals had reported wearing their robes on display from all corners of the world, Toronto was the only city outside China to have a recognizable association until the formation of similar societies in England and Malaysia in 2008.

HanfuTor’s recognition by promoters and academics alike is also due to its participation in several high-profile petitions shortly after its timely formation. HanfuTor petitioned numerous times from 2007 to 2011 by writing to Xinhua News Agency and Xinhua Online, as well as the Chinese consulate in Toronto to change the profile image of the Han ethnicity as depicted on the then-new Xinhua News Agency website, which originally depicted a woman wearing a dudou, a form of undergarment loosely similar to a bustier. “How could our proud Huaxia which we once called ‘the superior nation of robes and coronets (yiguan shangguo)’ end up in this rut – the clothing can barely cover [her] body, rendering her almost naked![15]”Although this petition was started and led by netizens in China, particular media attention was given to the Toronto group, almost overshadowing its Chinese main counterpart. However, its effect was minimal as the consulate and Xinhua gave only knee-jerk affirmative reactions for every open letter sent, and the replacement description was, perhaps deliberately, deliberately ambiguous. For example, the first change to the Han profile picture consisted of a cross-collar ‘costume’ in the wrong direction, and the next version involved covering the collar and all other features of the dress with a broad sleeve. Although Hanfu advocates hailed the changes as a victory, future incidents prove time and again that whether it was a red T-shirt, Manchu-inspired magua and qipao, or some kind of fabricated costume design in between, not a single style or design deemed as authentic by Hanfu advocates are depicted. In fact, netizens reported that after a suggested image of a man in formal court attire and several women in shenyi robes was posted, it was taken down and replaced by an image of only women with lacy imitation costumes.

To this date, the Han ethnic profile on Xinhua is the only one of 56 that does not have a profile image beside the content text, and Hanfu is still not recognized by the Central government as the ethnic dress of the Han[16]. Mentioning of Hanfu by official papers and event notices often put the term in quotation marks, and often reinterprets it as “Han dynasty costume” despite constant corrections from readership petitions. In contrast, Chinese media overseas, including Toronto’s, reported local Hanfu advocacy as described in the original words of promoters, clearly expressing the difference in ethnic origins with the more popularly recognized tangzhuang[17].

A spark from distant shores: Toronto’s legacy on changing the Chinese traditional dress

            Today, Chinese communities in the United Kingdom, Australia, France, Malaysia, Singapore, and Japan are forming regional social groups for promoting Hanfu as the representative Chinese traditional dress. Canada recently saw the formation of a second group based in Vancouver, boasting over 80 members since its founding in 2010. In addition to surpassing its Toronto counterpart’s numbers, it is an officially registered Canadian non-profit organization, with successful presentations and workshops held in conjunction with the University of British Columbia[18].

In contrast, HanfuTor’s activities have decreased significantly after a coming-of-age ceremony held in the CPAC Summer Festival 2008[19], with its repertoire of events limited to picture and catwalk exhibitions of clothes and no interactive workshops. However, the group’s contributions and legacies are not to be underestimated – the successful establishment of HanfuTor first proved to the Chinese the power of diaspora communities participating in social change of their ethnic homeland, as well demonstrated the positive results from equal and honest cultural exchange with other groups and communities.

Most importantly, however, is sharing the fundamental Canadian value of multiculturalism – the freedom of cultural expression from wearing one’s own traditional clothes without worry of discrimination, harassment or violence – to Chinese people around the world. “I started to realize,” a Torontonian blogger reflected after wearing Hanfu, “the ones who were weird weren’t the ones wearing ‘strange’ clothes on the streets – they were just wearing their own clothes. The ones who were weird, was actually ourselves.[20]”

The Counter-Culturing of Tradition: The Struggle of Representation in the Han Chinese Clothing Revival Movement

By: Juni L. Yeung, University of Toronto 

HU Shen is a Gr.12 high school student in Lizhou High School in Yongkang, Zhejiang Province. She came to school dressed in Hanfu on March 18, 2012 to promote Chinese culture, but was sent home by the authorities in the afternoon, sparking nationwide criticism online.

An Alien on Home Turf

On the evening of March 19, a message titled “A time-travelling girl shockingly appeared in Lizhou High School” was posted on Sina Weibo (the Chinese equivalent of Twitter), along with a picture of HU Shen walking down a school hallway, clad in a short-Quju robe and skirt while holding in both hands typical breakfast – a glass of soy milk and a zongzi (steamed rice wrapped in lotus leaf). Described as “a typical quiet Gr.12 student, with good marks and behaviour” in a private-run Zhejiang Province high school, she acted cool and unfazed as classmates and faculty alike went ballistic in reaction to her clothes.

When a Zhejiang Daily reporter tried to contact her by noon, the school authorities replied that Hu has been “invited away to lunch by the faculty”, and 10 minutes later received a text message from Hu herself: “I’m already on route home, the teacher has driven me home to change my clothes, and for certain reasons I cannot speak with you. My apologies.” Hu then refused to receive calls all afternoon, except for one text message from another local newspaper reporter, where she said she was “advised not to return to school for the day; and scared being home alone, will wander in town and probably stay at a relative’s place for the night.”[1]

Various levels of authorities displayed signs of deniability on the subject. Some staff from the school commented to the media, “Perhaps the school couldn’t accept a student dressed like this all of a sudden, and we need to have more communication.” Another faculty was quoted, “If other students came in dressed like Shi Huangdi (the First Emperor of China), you’d think that’d be weird, too.” The Zhejiang Ministry of Education stated in response, “I have never heard of situations where students wear Hanfu to school before. While many schools have set rules to forbid students from wearing strange and outlandish clothing, whether Hanfu counts as such is still up for debate.[2]”

Chinese netizens responded with outrage to the authorities’ attitude on the matter. A commenter from Shaanxi wrote, “As a Han Chinese, why can’t they wear their own traditional Han clothing? The school is mentally deranged to do this to the girl!” Another from Jiangsu wrote, “Ethnic minorities can wear their own [traditional] costumes out, so why not the Han, as long as they’re not interfering other people.” A Fujian commenter lamented, “This is how Chinese culture gets extinguished.[3]”

Hu’s actions were hardly random or uncommon. Since 2006, Chinese netizens have taken to the streets dressed in self-made or independently-produced Han robes, its designs dating prior to the Manchu Qing invasion of China in 1644. Their mission was to remind and convince the Chinese public to question their own perceptions and values tradition from an authenticity perspective, but have often been responded to with various degrees of resistance, mockery, and violence. The roots of this antagonism against practicing tradition stretch back to over a century ago, but the casus belli of the people taking direct action against the mainstream took place at the crossroads of China’s recent modernization program.

China’s Search for the “Panacea of National Salvation”

Chinese sociologists argue that Western labels such as Generation Y are not applicable to the mainland country’s context due to the rapid socio-economic changes after Mao’s death, and require more precise labels by decade of birth, such as “post-80’s” and “post-90’s”. Whereas gradual transitions or syntheses in popular culture of the West as witnessed in the mid-20^th century, such as the evolution of rock music as a device of ‘counterculture’ against the establishment and metal music as its spiritual successor over the timespan of two to three decades, the Chinese decade generation gap is marked by transformative views on consumerism and sharp countercultures against all aspects of belief in the previous decade[4]. Its causes can be described as post-traumatic responses to major events in recent history, which has so far been all conveniently situated near the end of each decade.

Two of such events which shaped the players in the recent Hu Shen hanfu incident are: Deng Xiaoping’s “Open Reforms” in the 1980’s, ending China’s seclusion with the outside world since the Mao era, which overwhelmed the mainland with four decades of ‘lost time’ with the Western cultural hemisphere. Young Chinese students wolfed down “modern Western culture” with gusto – from democracy to disco, rock and roll from the 1950’s to pop in then-present 80’s, under a general state-sponsored opinion of “Ocean philosophy”, essentialized in the documentary film He-Shang (River Elegy) sponsored by then-Party General Secretary Zhao Ziyang. In contrast to the “dusty, old and yellow” culture of China analogized as a “river”, Western culture was seen as a “clear, youthful blue” ocean of compassionate, progressive universalism. For older students whose education was cut off by the Cultural Revolution and now sharing a cohort with younger college graduates (the Pre-60’s and Post-70’s), this set a fierce drive for Westernization and embracing ‘universal values’ as means to achieving modernization and consequently ‘salvation of the nation.’

As popular pleas and protest for liberal democracy and transparent government was violently cracked down on June 4, 1989 in Tian’anmen Square, Chinese thinkers interpreted that as the bankruptcy of Western political ideologies’ credibility to being able to ‘save the country’, which led them to seek answers in traditional Chinese ideologies[5]. However, this has not stopped the people or the institution to continue adopting Westernization as a means of integrating with the world economy and international society, while carefully filtering elements deemed to be subversive to Party control of the state. The reacquisition of Hong Kong and Macao, as well as the NATO bombing of the Chinese embassy in Belgrade in the latter half of the 1990’s made nationalism and Chinese pride the theme of the decade, to which the Communist Party bolstered and supported to rally popular support and enforce its legitimacy as responsible rulers of the state. As such, the Post-80’s group are disillusioned from Western culture as the infallible solution to a modern and strong China, but studiously acquire foreign methods and technologies on the notion of ‘understanding the enemy’ for the good of “the Chinese fatherland.” Culturally, this group is preoccupied with the assertion of the Chinese identity in all encountered forms of expression, and more fundamental divisions of this (such as the Hanfu Movement) challenge the authenticity of passed-down Chinese tradition, analyzing it for “corruption” from foreign elements and taking direct action to present an alternative.

The Biggest Enemy is One’s Own Kind

As the Internet began to spread beyond Chinese university labs and into the general public in the 1990’s, the generational discourse conflicted boundlessly in the early BBSs (Bulletin Board Systems), perceived as a digital successor of Democracy Walls often found on Chinese university campuses[6]. The first discussions of the possibility of wearing what we now call hanfu rather than the Manchu-inspired qipao and magua took place in military history discussion boards of the early BBSs, and later in offshoot forums specifically catering to the interests of ethnic Han Chinese. The raison d’être of these offshoots was due to severe disagreements with other (often also Han) Chinese on the early BBSs on the treatment of the Mongol and Manchu periods in China as Chinese dynasties, which quickly expanded into questions of ethnic propriety, national unity, and legitimacy of the current sovereignty.

As most Chinese celebrated the tangzhuang jacket as the “new Chinese” dress worn by international dignitaries during Shanghai APEC 2001, the sartorial debate was given a newfound sense of immediacy as members from Hanwang (then haanen.cn, later hanminzu.com) wrote a fiery essay “A Lost Civilization: Han Ethnic Dress[7]” describing the Queue Order of 1644 as a Holocaust and the reason for the traditional robe’s sudden disappearance[8]. Soon its core members planned to take to the streets in the clothes by sharing clothing patterns based from historical records and photos of their replicas taken from their own rooms. The decisive breakthrough came on Saturday, November 29, 2003, when the Singaporean Chinese newspaper Lianhe Zaobao wrote a half-page article about Wang Letian, a Zhengzhou electrician, wearing hanfu in public a week ago[9]. The news attained viral popularity as it was reposted on all major Chinese news portal sites and many discussion forums, and membership for Hanwang grew by the tens of thousands from Chinese netizens all around the world. Real-life based interest groups were formed on a regional basis over the next few years in and outside of China, and several prominent Chinese provincial and national congress members proposed to adopt hanfu as official academic clothing and the ceremonial garb in the Beijing Olympics 2008[10].

Mainstream media and general scholarship viewed the movement with skepticism and caution, and a bitter dialectic struggle persisted from 2005 to after Shanghai Expo 2009, and still lingers in the present day. Scholars both East and West interpret the clothing revival movement as a materialization of the Post-80’s and 90’s desire for “root-seeking”, but the underlying philosophy of Han Benwei-Zhuyi, translated as “Han departmentalism” or “Han centrism” were deemed as ultranationalist or reminiscent of Nazism. Australian scholar James Leibold writes, “In its more virulent articulation, Han ethnocentrism advocates the forced assimilation or even extermination of all non-Han elements in China…like Hitler, some Hanists call for the preservation of superior Han blood from barbarian contamination.[11]” Communist Youth Cadre professor Zhang Xian writes, “In other words, hanfu by itself does not encumber any actual meaning, it is only a spiritual symbol of ‘rectifying origins’, a virtual totem for ‘restoring proper lineage’. Asides from that, it is nothing.[12]”

The Pit-Brawl of Words and Fists

This rhetoric has caused more than simple outrage and verbal and written responses online. In 2006, several citizens accused a Beijing digital company of libel by spreading an altered report on a photo article by Jinghua Shibao which originally read “Hanfu Gathering” in the title to “Joss Clothing Takes to the Streets.” On October 5 2008, after numerous verbal confrontations from various occasions, 30-year old hanfu activist and amateur historian Huang Haiqing slapped 74-year old Manchu history scholar Yan Chongnian in the face during a book-signing session, denouncing Yan for whitewashing Manchu conquest and genocide of Chinese people with the term “a case of ‘cultural fusion’,” resulting in Huang receiving maximum sentence of a 1,000 Yuan fine and 15 days in detention[13]. On October 16 2010, a mob of over 1,000 young Chinese protesters demonstrating anti-Japanese occupation of the Diaoyu (Senkaku) Islands mistook Chinese hanfu for the Japanese kimono, whom then forced the innocent Chinese woman to strip all of her “Japanese” garb and burned it in public, causing international outrage and ridicule at the ignorance of the Chinese general public towards their own traditional culture[14].

Asides fearing from daily harassment and potential violence on a personal level, hanfu activists are particularly frustrated at mainland mainstream media warping virtually all reports of their activities as “antiquarian revivalism” and “time-travel fetish.” Whereas media transcripts prepared by the movement’s activists read “restoring Huaxia culture in a cultural Renaissance,” mainstream media often reported as “time-warping back to the Han Dynasty to experience the antiquated culture and refinement.” Proponents and activists for the movement address themselves as “tongpao (lit. “same-robes”, or comrades-in-arms)”, “(ethnic) Han cultural revivalists/vanguards”, or simply “a typical Han Chinese citizen,” but the media deliberately avoids usage of all of these terms and any implied reference to an “ethnic Han (hanzu)”, instead developing its own vocabulary: from the semantically ambiguous “Han-you (Han-friends)”, to the outright misnomer “Han (dynasty/era) culture/clothing amateurs”, “ancient hanfu culture lovers” and so on. Even the word “hanfu” itself is systematically put into quotation marks on all mainstream press articles and editorials, emphasizing it and exoticizing the concept as a novelty or invention. Mainland activists look on with a mix of envy and solace from Chinese-language media published outside the borders of the People’s Republic, as such restrictions are absent and articles from Malaysian and Canadian publications explicitly relate hanfu with Chinese ethnic heritage.

Hu Shen: Another Name On the List, or A Turning Point?

One and a half months prior to Hu Shen’s encounter with the school authorities, Netease published an influential photo essay attacking the Hanfu Movement and other displays involving pre-20^th century, non-Western garb in today’s context. Titled ‘Awkward “Time-Travel?”’, the captioned 18-picture article attempted to highlight ‘inconsistencies’ among modern replicas of “ancient dress” since 2005, such as exposed hand-decorated sneakers under a robe, makeshift guan coronets traditionally reserved for nobility made from Styrofoam cups and disposable chopsticks, simply making funny poses for the camera[15]. The reader comments section went ablaze as tens of thousands of responses took sides in attack or defense of the article, claiming that it is a denigration of tradition and genuine efforts to revive its practice. Hence, when news commentators fell mostly in favor of Hu as the victim after news of her being sent home spread across the Internet, many considered it to be a surprising (but welcome) change.

Hu’s incident was comparatively mundane to previous incidents where hanfu wearers were harassed, with the most significant difference being the harasser being ‘the institution’ of a school body rather than an individual, private firm, or independent scholar. The media left no quarter in pummelling the education ministry with the harshest choice of words. “We always talk about our Chinese nation of 56 ethnicities having five thousand years of magnificent culture, but how much of it gets passed down? It is the fault of our propaganda and education systems, which has caused our angel of Chinese cultural promotion to be asked to return home and change clothes.[16]” “If we set our sights on other ethnic minority representatives, Mongol, Tibetan, Manchu, Hui, or Korean, any one of those would recommend wearing their own ethnic dress to the Two Meetings, [but] the Han would only have the Mao suit and qipao. When even these two become “rare sights”, they are left with only Western suits, leather boots, and dresses. Aside from these “mainstream goods”, are there any authentic goods that can still represent the Han? Then, when a high school student wears Hanfu to school, why do we still have to ‘oust’ her back home[17]?”

Unlike subcultures of previous decades where followers consciously attempt to remove formal identities from mainstream society in favor of a fantastical construction, the Hanfu Movement actively seeks out for the self – which ironically, as semiotician Marcel Danesi observed, is a characteristic of modern subcultures, “in parallel with the mainstream, not apart from it.[18]”On the surface, the Hanfu Movement is where the young utilize images of the ‘traditional’ to rebel against the ‘anti-traditional’ Mao generation parents, but a detailed analysis of the Movement’s members defy any age or era categorization.  Although its most vocal contingent present themselves as a young generation of educated middle-class, the fiercest opposing voice presents itself as the exact same demographic. While age, sex, and social class are temporarily shrouded under the thin guise of quasi-anonymity and tunneled attention towards the debate at hand, when these debates materialize into the physical realm they become part of the discrimination and violent harassment which time and again has caused international outcry. Nonetheless, movement pundits look on with optimism, believing that when the previous generation’s time has come and past, mutual respect for the history and cultural pluralism under the pretext of ethnic self-confidence will dawn upon this brave new world.

All events are Free of admission.

1. (TorGuqin internal) Reception yaji for Liu Fang, Pipa Soloist

Toronto musicians welcome Montreal Pipa virtuoso Liu Fang to the city, where she will be performing in the George Ignatieff Theatre at UofT St. George Campus on Saturday, May 19th. As a friend of Chinese music, Liu has long appreciated the profound sounds of the qin, and we are eagerly looking forward a friendly evening to in sharing music and stories.

Date: Sunday, May 20, 2012
Location: Esther Zhang’s home/study
RSVP: Closed event

2. History of Chinese Clothing Seminar @ Agincourt Public Library

Why do ancient Chinese dress look so different with the modern ones? How do the Chinese use their clothing to represent the world? Are they always made of big silk sleeves?

Come learn about Hanfu, the REAL Chinese traditional clothing, at a special Asian Heritage Month seminar at Agincourt Public Library, presented by Juni Yeung of the Toronto Guqin Society! From its history to its different design types, you will also learn basics on how to make some of its most representative styles!

Date: Friday, May 25, 2012
Time: 11:30AM – 12 Noon (Please be on time)
Location: Agincourt Public Library, 15 Bonis Ave., Toronto, ON (Near Birchmount/Sheppard)
RSVP: Feel free to drop by!

** Addendum: Be sure to also check out Esther Zhang and the Toronto Ya-Yue Centre’s performances from 12-1PM as well! **

3. Guqin, Qin Song, and Kunqu Performance @ Carassauga 2012 China Pavilion

Carassauga Festival is the annual largest showcase of cultures which make up the diversity in the city of Mississauga. Experience 3 days and nights of exquisite cuisine, dance, and ethnic arts and crafts.

Toronto Guqin Society and the newly-formed Toronto Ya-Yue Art Center will be showcasing a 2-hour panel on various musical forms, taking everyone on an unforgettable cruise of the Chinese scene, from the ceremonial music of Imperial Courts and Confucius Temples, to the qin music in the gardens of literati scholars, to the pavilions of opera theatres and folk music in tea-houses!

Date: Saturday, May 26, 2012
Time: 10:00 PM to 11:30PM
Location: Franck McKechnie Community Centre, 310 Bristol Road East (Between Hurontario St. and Kennedy Rd.)
(Carassauga Shuttle Buses stop at this pavilion)
RSVP: Feel free to drop by, be on time!
Cost: Our show is free to the public. Costs may apply for shuttle buses, food etc.

By Wang Zhi, in Xilutang Qintong (1549), Folio IV;
Translated by Juni Yeung

Original Source of Fuqin Jue from Xilutang Qintong, Folio IV.

When playing the qin, regardless of whether there are people nearby, one must play as if facing your elders. Placing the qin to the front of you, the body must be upright, your energies and spirits at peace and settled.

Collect your heart and cut off all worries, focus on your emotions and intentions.

Fingers do not give false strikes, and strings do not give false rings.

One does not look at the right hand, but only listen to its sounds.

The eyes do not look elsewhere, nor the ears listen to anything else.

When the heart does not think other thoughts, that is when one achieves the meaning of the qin. It is essential to recognize the sentencing and phrasing of rhythm, while there mustn’t be too many pauses or stops. Li Mian [Tang era, 717-788CE] noted, “Yin [vibratos] and stops are well-measured, while slowness and speed are orderly. Hurriedly, but not messy. Leisurely, but not stopping. Neither hurriedly or leisurely, like drifting clouds and flowing water. This is the crucial essence.”

Use of fingers must include both flesh and nail, in order to give a crisp sound. Too much nail and the sound is scorched. Too much flesh and the tone is convoluted. Both left and right hands cannot over-exaggerate.

There are three types of sound on the qin: First is san (open), second is an (pressed), third is fan (harmonics). Each pluck is like breaking the strings but the fingers pluck shallowly. Pressing the strings into the wood are to be firm but strength cannot be seen. Fan sounds are to be played near the bridge, lightly touching the string where the hui marker is with a brief point [of the fingertip], and its sound shall be clear and rounded.

If the body wavers and the neck twists often, pandering left and right, looking up and down, or if the facial expressions change, it is as if one is ashamed.

Or, if one’s eyesight scurries about, panting in with heavy breath, without regulation in advances and retreats, with a lax spirit or form, it will reflect itself in form of sound. Although the fingerings are right, the resonances of the sound will be messy and it cannot conform to the Five [proper] Sounds.

Not tuning the strings properly, playing heavily when it should be played lightly, or playing quick when it should be slow – all of these are major diseases [faults] to playing.

The rule of playing the qin, is to be simple and clean. It is not in asking for one as a person to be calm, but in one’s hands. The throbbing of the fingers is called being raucous, while being concise, lightly-treading on a steady pace is called being calm.

It is unnecessary to wobble the [left] finger outside of the sound. Let the proper sound be harmonious and smooth, and that will be good.

For the Junzi [Superior Person] of antiquity creates [regulates] to the causes of matters, he attenuates himself to pleasuring the mind, or describes his heart with irony, or expresses his lone resentment to transmit his ambitions. Hence it [i.e. the music] is able to focus the essence of sincerity, and move the spirits and gods.

One may only know three or five etudes, but refine it to the limits of excellence. However students of our day, perceive ability by sheer quantity. Hence the idiom “Sheer quantity leads to lack of quality. Quality leads to less quantity.” May the Junzi who understands true sound [i.e. friends] pay attention to this.

Here we have the rules of playing qin. What is difficult to procure are the scores to the music, for they must be requested to be passed down from the masters. Furthermore, fingerings and rhythm cannot be exhaustively detailed in the work of writing, so when facing a manuscript to play, we often only get its sound, but its profound intricacies in tempo and rhythm are forgone. This is like having rough measuring tools – you have the drawn shapes, but it lacks the precision that fine tools give.

In more prosaic terms, any given piece can be roughly divided into three sections: First slow, then tense, and finally slack. From slow to tense to stop forms the motif to a piece of music.

Often times there are indications of “do two times from mark.” (從勾二作) Play through it plainly the first time, to finish off the motif from the last sentence. Pause, and in the second play-through, play it strongly. From playing strong and then easing gradually and finishing with a powerful strike-in, forms the continuation to the sounds afterward. One must make the front and back relate with each other, clearly differentiating the beginning from the end.

Another example is the “Perform three times with spaced gou.” (三作間勾, i.e. Da-jiangou) First play the two sounds, pause, then respond to the previous section with four sounds, and finish off with one powerful strike-in.

A nine-tone long chain (chang-suo, ) involves playing two sounds, pause, and finish off with seven strong notes. This induces rise and fall at the front and back, connecting the motifs by arteries and veins, leaving its resonance drifting as if fading but still slowly progressing, and then a jolt at the end.

From slow to tense, and from tense to leisurely, if control of fastness and slowness is appropriate, and yin [vibratos] and stops do not lose their degree, then naturally the strings will resonate with clear rings. Sounds should preferably be clear, aim for simple and calm, and must not be messy. This is how an elegant, antiquated motif of profound emptiness is.

And this is why the intricacies are so hard to attain for manuscripts then and now. So for those self-studying the qin, and have yet to receive transmission from a master, it is best to focus your mind and dedication and ponder on these words. Follow the fingerings according to the manuscript to the hands, meticulously and slowly, accumulate one sound onto the next, section unto section. After days and months of practice, the heart and intention will connect, and the hands will automatically do its job. Then, you will naturally attain mastery as the ancients have.

As proverb has it: “When practice is perfected, it is the same.” [Doctrine of the Mean, 20]  The act of strumming the qin is precious in its accumulated progress, as prolonged experience leads to expertise. If one is eager and greedy for more, wanting for speed leads to one unable to arrive at the destination and all is then for naught, which must be avoided. I shall leave the essay on this note for students of the future to read, to dispel their anxious doubts.

Original text is as follows:

鼓琴時，無問有人無人，常如對長者。掣琴在前身須端直。
安定神氣，精心絕慮，情意專注。指不虛下，弦不錯鳴。不視右手，只聞其聲。
目不別視，耳不別聽，心不別思，乃得琴之旨焉。
大要識句讀節奏，停歇不得過多。李勉曰：吟抑有度，遲速有節，急而不亂、緩而不絕。
不緩不急，如行雲流水，此為樞要也。
用指必須甲肉相兼，出聲清麗。甲多聲焦，肉多聲濁。右/左手不得過度。
琴聲凡三：一曰散、二曰按、三曰泛、
彈似斷弦插指淺;按若入木不見力;泛則近岳而彈。徽沾弦而點摭。
其音清且圓也。若身搖頸動，盼視左右，顧瞻上下，面色變易，有如慚恥，
或眼目疾游，喘息氣麤，進退無度，形神散漫.至於取聲，
雖能用指，聲韻雜亂，不盡五音，調弦不切。
當輕而重，當慢而速，皆是大病。
彈琴之法，必須簡淨。非謂人靜，乃手靜也。
手指鼓動謂之喧，簡要輕穩謂之靜。
不須聲外搖指，正聲和暢，方為善矣。
故古之君子，皆因事而制。
或怡情以自適，或諷諫以寫心，
或幽憤以傳志，故能專注精誠，感動鬼神
或只能三五操，而極精妙。
今之學者，惟多為能，故曰﹕多則不精，精則不多。知音君子詳察焉。

夫彈琴之法，難得者曲譜，曲譜必求師傳。
蓋曲譜中指法節奏非筆墨所能盡，所以對譜彈琴，往往徒得其聲，而于疾徐節奏多不能造妙，
亦猶規矩之粗得其方圓，而不能備其工巧。
姑以淺近者言之：一曲中分作三段。一慢、二緊、三緩。
從緩入緊，至煞意,而成一曲是也。譜中有從勾二作者，必分為二段：先一作平其聲，以結前段之意。

少息後一作取聲猛壯，猛而漸緩，以續後聲。必須前後相關，始終不雜。
又如三作間勾者，先兩聲，少息，應前段後四聲猛彈入間勾，以接後聲
如至長鎖九聲，前兩聲少息，以結前段﹐後七聲雄壯，以接後聲，令有起伏之意。
大要使其脈絡聯綴，遺音俳徊欲斷而緩續。
欲盡而不盡，然後猛起以發弦。從慢入緊，從緊至緩，若緩急得合其宜，吟抑不失其度，自弦中節餘響鏗鏘，取音欲清圖簡靜，不可亂雜，庶有古雅沖澹之意。

此乃古今譜操難得之妙也。然私學琴者，未遇師傳。得此曲譜，宜專心致志，仔細玩味。
按其譜中指法運之於手，詳緩而彈，逐聲而累一聲加於一聲、一段加於一段。
若日積月深。習之既久，心契意悟。手自相應，自然可到古人妙處。

所謂及其成功則一也。 大抵彈琴貴於積累而進，久則自精。若急躁貪多，欲速則不能達，終無所成。
切宜深戒，予故備論之，以貽後學覽者。其毋惑焉。

***

Over the years, TorGuqin has posted many event announcements on the website regarding its activities — meetings, gatherings, demonstrations, performances…and it is only intermittently that pictures or reports are posted back. Does this mean that it didn’t take place?

Far from it.

Recently, we actually have been in more activities than described on our website (and Facebook event pages), to which thanks to Yanyan Zhu, we are now able to record our events on HD digital video in addition to our paper records of our gatherings and events. Since February 2012, TorGuqin members have performed in the Evergreen Farmer’s Market, given lectures on the qin and Chinese drama at the University of Toronto, received Dr. Keren Li from Nanjing, as well as Dr. Yip Mingmei from New York as an honoured guest to our gatherings.

If a picture is worth a thousand words, then the word count of the following would be beyond millions.

 
These two videos are from Yanyan Zhu’s University of Toronto guest lecture on Chinese drama. The first video features her demonstration of An Xiang (Hidden Fragrance), a Song dynasty lyric by Jiang Kui and recently restored to its original tune. The latter video includes demonstrations from Yuan opera (Injustice of Dou E) and Ming era Kunqu (The Peony Pavilion). As a local of Nanjing, Yanyan’s immersion in these forms of vocal tradition is natural. Do please remember to turn up the volume a bit for listening to her talk, though.

Prof. Lin was our artist-in-residence during February 2012, where he shared his decades of expertise on the Chinese flutes dizi and xiao to the local communities for the instrument, as well as its best string partner – the qin. Here is a video of his own composition Zuiwo Shanlin, or “Resting Drunken Amongst the Mountains and Woods”

On March 16, we had a gathering in honour of Dr. Yip Mingmei. This was a celebrated event, and despite the unfortunate incident of food poisoning from another event the night previous, Dr. Yip demonstrated her experience and talent with a similar skill to Yanyan’s — singing Song (era) Lyrics in qin song. In this video are the TQS member performances, but does not include my own (Juni Yeung’s).

Our talent is not limited to the qin alone – Roy Hagman, a student to the qin, also researches and performs mediaeval European music. Here is a wonder demonstration of some Troubadour songs shared in our gathering, as well as some Tai Chi improvisation from Master Du Dexi to the melodies of the qin.

In Toronto, two famous stores that carry world musical instruments carry the qin – and both are located along Spadina Avenue.

Musideum is an elegant space where one can leisurely browse in the cozy-lighted, refined shop/performance space of Donald Quan, music composer and renowned musician. From hurdy-gurdy’s to clavichords to theremin, you can find it all here. Needless to say, they have some qins for sale, as well as various handbooks for it, including the Standards of the Guqin. You can also find metal-nylon strings on sale here.

The other place is Kensington Melody, located on Baldwin Street, just steps past Augusta Avenue after getting off of the streetcar stop for Kensington Market. Owned and operated by an energetic old Chinese man who co-authored a Romanian translation of Lao Tzu’s Daode Jing and an avid collector of Tibetan and Uighur instruments, furniture, and paraphernalia. Aside from a sizable stock of qins at a reasonable price range (just ask – they’re in the back), do spend time to examine the various trinkets, religious symbols, drums, and electric instruments that spill over into the cramped walkways. Metal-nylon and silk strings are available on sale here, as well as some qin scores and the Standards book. However, do bear with the somewhat dusty and cramped environment – bring a wiping rag if you want to try the qins out, just in case.