Zhang Huan was born in An Yang City, He Nan Province, China in 1965. Typically a performance artist, he occasionally dabbles in painting as well as sculpture, as you can clearly see above. It’s technically called Q Confucius No.2 and is made from silicone, steel, carbon fiber and acrylic. The piece was constructed to respond to cultural questions, Zhang says:

Faced with rapid economic and societal changes and energy and climate challenges, how can we achieve sustainable development? What responsibilities come along with China’s rise in international importance? Where is the sense of spiritual belonging for contemporary Chinese?

These are certainly important questions and a part of the reason I asked the TFIB team to dedicate this week to Chinese culture. China currently finds itself in such an interesting moment in time, being one of the richest and poorest countries in the world. I’m not sure I can entirely grasp the depth of what Zhang is trying to say with this piece, but I can certainly appreciate the beauty it beholds and the craftsmanship that went into it.

You can see more photos of the piece by clicking here.

Bobby

Victor, Fly Me to Stafford is a song by the Hong Kong indie-pop duo My Little Airport. The band was formed by Ah P (Lam Pang) and Nicole (Nicole Au Kin-ying) who met in college in 2001, and occasionally the duo invite friends and relatives to contribute to their albums and even their live shows.

In 2007, the Spanish label Elefant Records released a compilation of the highlights from their two previous albums and it’s well worth checking out. They’re a fun and joyful band and despite their twee-pop sensibilities, they often write songs with strong social and political themes, as well. Victor, Fly Me to Stafford shows off what I like most about them; Nicole’s sweet voice twined with Ah P’s electro-pop casio. If you like what you hear make sure to check out their compilation.

Philip

Either through imitation or sheer innovation, Hong Kong cinema matures by the minute. At the start of the 20th century it was little more than an extension of the budding Chinese opera scene. By the time the Sino-Japanese War hit, the industry had changed into a medium for unification and nationalism. At the time, regionalism and local dialects kept division on the Chinese mainland. Yet early talkies brought Mandarin and Cantonese as the dominant languages and helped unify regional rivalries during the Japanese invasion. The language division existed through the CPC’s victory in 1949 and early martial arts films (such as the Wong Fei Hung series) began to take hold. By the 1980s, the cult status of the film in the West was gone – popularized by Bruce Lee and Jackie Chan – and the industry commanded respect worldwide.

IP Man,then, can feel like a tribute to the evolution of the industry. Taking place before and during the Sino-Japanese War, the film chronicles the story of Yip Man, the grandmaster of Wing Chun. Starting in provincial Foshan, (Y)Ip Man (played by Donnie Yen) lives with his family and casually teaches his form of martial arts to gracious students and his not-so-humble competitors. When the Japanese invade in 1937, Foshan changes from a beautiful provincial province to an industrial hub for their foreign leaders. Ip Man’s casual lifestyle has to change as well. He can’t rely on the kindness of the town and his status in society anymore. As his family starves and his friends fall victim to the Japanese brutality, he becomes a coolie, shovelling coal. He ends his martial arts practice. A Japanese general comes to Foshan and institutes a new tournament, pitting Chinese martial artists against the Karate of the Japanese Army. Never wanting to use his skill for personal gain, the disappearance of villagers and the general welfare of his family leads him to enter the tournament. This film presents the story of a small town man becoming a national hero.

Inspired by true events, the story of Ip Man has been dramatized greatly in the film. Wing Chun as an art form would have died with Ip Man if it wasn’t for his almost-too-famous-to-mention-disciple-that-left-the-whole-world-in-awe. Donnie Yen conveys the demeanor of a family man forced to use his gifts for defense of his family. Yen took the role seriously, sticking to a meager diet, rigorous training, and mental focus on the spiritual side of the martial art. The result is apparent in almost every scene. Yen’s Ip Man seems introverted, aloof, and purposeful. His representation of Ip Man is as a philosophical ascetic martial arts master, negating the real life opium smoking policeman/martial artist. Furthermore, some of the most dramatic scenes push the mythology rather than history of the man, making the plot feel little more than a nationalist piece such as Zemlya or The Youth of Maxim.

Nevertheless, the scenes are intense, touching portrayals of rural life taken over by industrialism. Foshan, as you would expect, has changed dramatically since the 1930s, meaning the film had to be shot off-site. But the sets are awe-inspiring, showing the incredible trade and beauty of small-town China. The influence of Western trade pops up in unexpected places; the beauty of the small town is revered. The demonstrations of martial arts are clear and divergent, especially the demonstrations of karate against Wing Chun. These painstaking details of retaining the essence of 1930s China is not without credit. It brings the narrative to life in beautiful costumes, sweeping townhouses and mansions, and brings a tangible reality to the story.

“I’m just a Chinese man,” says Ip Man. The simplicity of the statement mirrors the apparent simplicity of Wing Chun. There is little flashy about Ip Man’s fighting ability, as simple and balanced as a solitary grain of rice. Rarely do you see an action film where the protagonist wins each fight without hurting his opponent until absolutely necessary. He is the every-man of China, confronting the frightening reality of Japanese occupation with a tremendous gift, the ability to fight back. It wouldn’t be a stretch to compare it to the story of Chinese cinema emerging out of the shadow of its Eastern and Western neighbors. Regardless of analogy, the film stands well on its own and might be Donnie Yen’s best film to date.

Alec

This stunning kindergarten finished construction last year in a suburb just north of Shanghai. Designed by Atelier Deshaus, the exterior of the project is dominated by a punctured and screened facade that runs along the south face of the building. The interior of the fifteen-classroom school is organized around an atrium with ramping yellow walkways. The school is colorful in a way that is sophisticated rather than hokey, and the project descriptions says the design achieves a “balance of passion and reason.” The sophisticated palette may be unappreciated and abstract building gestures might be lost on the young scholars, and on me; but the school looks more exciting an inviting than any I’ve seen in a long time.

Found through ArchDaily

Alex

You may remember a few weeks back we had a week devoted to ice? A brilliant idea from Philip. Well, I thought we’d give it a go again, though this time we’re tackling the entire country of China… no big deal, right? We’ll be taking a look at Chinese culture in an extremely grand sense. We’ll be covering music, architecture, art, sculpture, design – everything you come to expect from us.

None of us are by any means expert, and it’s certainly been an exciting challenge to find a wide range of interesting topics. If we get anything wrong, feel free to leave us a note and we’ll be sure to adjust things accordingly. Hopefully you’ll enjoy the journey along with us.

Bobby

Click images to enlarge

I believe I came across Luca Barcellona and his incredible calligraphy skills some time last year, but for whatever reason I decided not to post about him. Cut to last week when I rediscover him and fell back in love with his sexy hand-drawn type. Luca has a studio in Milan where he works from, creating these beautiful letters. It’s pretty rad to browse through his Flickr account and see all the process shots of the work he does. I can’t even begin to imagine how long it takes to earn the confidence to draw like that. It all seems so flawless and effortless.

To get a good sense of what I mean, you should take a few minutes to watch the video below of him working. His hands are so steady and unflinching. I wish more people took the time to learn a craft like that.

Bobby

You may remember Jeremy Geddes, an oil painter hailing from Melbourne, Australia. His work, The Red Cosmonaut (featured at top), was recently featured on the cover of Juxtapoz magazine. The issue also features the final version of Cluster, which Alex shared a little while back.

I wanted to revisit his work and put a spotlight on his larger series of cosmonauts done in oil because I find his work rather… gravitating. Jeremy’s cosmonauts series is split; half are depicted in the familiar concrete transportation frontier, crashing to city streets or floating underneath highway overpasses while the other is shown in a soft monochromatic void. Both parts to his series feel interchangeable as if they were captured in sublime silence.

The works reminded me of  this Gemini transmission between Gemini IV Astronauts Ed White & James McDivitt after White completed NASA’s first ever spacewalk:

White: That was the most natural feeling, Jim.

McDivitt: …You looked like you were in your mother’s womb.

Safe, silent & floating.

Alana

Inspiration can come from anywhere, even the simplest of things. The video above, created by Sebas & Clim, is called Tiny Story, and it’s a great example of how the process of inspiration can work. The video is maybe only 40 seconds long, but they manage to illustrate so many basic concepts in such incredible ways. It’s hard to get a sense of the video based on the images, but once you see these things moving you’ll totally understand and appreciate what they’ve done. The video would be totally incomplete though without the music of Aimar Molero, who creates a sweet sounding backdrop for the visuals. Be kind and share this with someone who might need it.

Found through Drawn

Bobby

Daniel Danger is an illustrator and printmaker from New England, and he’s got a really rad style. I love the amount of detail and depth he puts into his pieces, the complex line work and hatching is stunning. I also love the themes he chooses to create, these really spooky, sort of supernatural scenarios which are awesomely weird. The finishing touch to these pieces though are the colors he applies, which certainly help to bring a mood to each piece. My personal favorite is the second one above, the blend of purples, reds, oranges and yellows are beautiful.

Bobby

The folks behind Kinfolk magazine have an unmatchable eye for showcasing amazing things, and the beekeeping video is but one of them. The video was done by Tiger in a Jar (who you may remember from this previous post) who’ve done a beautiful job of capturing the process of collecting honey. I didn’t realize there was a swirly machine that spun the honey out of the combs, I guess I’ve never thought about it before. I’m not even a big fan of honey, but this video makes the whole process seem extremely romantic.

You can see some photos from Tiger in the Jar’s shoot by clicking here.

Bobby