Four high school students teamed together under the appellation “95 后” and hosted a traditional paper cutting and seal making tent at this year’s Shanghai EcoDesign Fair. Below is their account of the proceedings. The charm of the resulting artworks is hinted at here, but what really comes across is the enchantment of handling tools in self-consciously creative acts, and the mutual exchange that occurs in the context of organizing and coalescing around such pools of cultural knowledge. The fair this year was a great success thanks to the initiative of the students of “95 Hou” and many others. This initiative is a gift, truly the beautiful and mysterious thing.
By Echo
In the light drizzle of the morning of April 19 at Gongyi Xintiandi we opened up our demonstration event of traditional Chinese arts, taking “air” as our subject. A little cluster of tables under a tent served as the home for this happy meet-up of traditional paper-cut and stamp-making enthusiasts. Kids delighted by the spectacle surrounded the tables while many adults, glad for the chance to slip out of the headlong rhythm of daily life, enjoyed a moment of tranquility immersed in the delicate hand-work.
Morning preparations were actually quite a flurry, including setting out stamp patterns, paper-cut tools, color paints, etc. The four of us students donned our qipao and other traditional Han-style clothing, immediately attracting the eyes of several kids and their grandparents who stood watching amusedly fussing with their camera in front of the tent.
This is the second time we have conducted such an activity, and on this occasion we wanted to take things more slowly, allowing visitors to discover for themselves the artistry in these traditional crafts. However, most of the children do not stay long, spying the snack booth, while their grandparents continue to be preoccupied with their camera. We are beginning to feel a little lost, worried that these traditional arts are perhaps not as compelling as the tempting food on offer.
Then suddenly a father appeared with his son. “Would you like to make a rubber stamp?” he asked his son. The kid was noncommittal, but his father sat down and picked up the tools himself. “OK, then you can help me carve one,” he said. While his back was turned, without our interference or intervention the boy made a half-finished carving on the rubber stamp and held the strange thing out in his hand. “What’s that? A picture of the sun?” His father’s boisterous tone surprised us, but the boy was pleased, and his hesitation now dissipated, he took up a painting instrument and started adding colors. Meanwhile the surrounding crowd lost whatever initial reservations they had and joined in.
As for paper-cuts, our main activity, the challenge is to make a flat surface come alive. People arrive in twos and threes, and occupy themselves either drawing the meticulous patterns or cutting them out. Getting comfortable with the technique for cutting usually entails a moment of hesitation, but this goes away quickly as people become absorbed in the activity. Afterwards people hold up their works and admire them, chat a little and leave their contact information and comments.
Such coming and going gives us the sense of a timeless experience, occurring in ancient times just as today. The appeal of the folk paper-cut is universal. To let these good things into our lives again, this is probably the essence of modern-day practice of Chinese traditional arts.
Our activity came to a close just as the drizzle turned to rain. We had made many new friends and experienced an overall feeling of accomplishment, but also whetted our own appetite for developing new programs to explore tea culture, traditional Chinese medicine, ink painting, etc. We have a long road ahead, but each activity seems to open a door to new possibilities!