I just read an editorial piece in the New York Times about classical music and it’s place among the Occupy Wall Street movement that got me thinking about my own family. “From the Medici family and Ludwig of Bavaria to Andrew Carnegie and David H. Koch, classical music, like other performing arts, has long depended on the 1 percent,” writes Anthony Tommasini. This is not so far off in China either, at least not nowadays.
The arts are an important component to China’s cultural inheritance. Mao himself was a poet and a lover of music — granted, the only music allowed during his regime were “Red Songs” with lyrics from his own poetry, but it was music nonetheless. Classical music was not introduced to China until the late 1970s under Deng Xiaoping’s leadership. A professor from the Central Conservatory of Music had written Deng a letter requesting permission to enroll students after a 10-year dry spell during the Cultural Revolution–a timely request as Deng was set on modernizing China, opening doors to western influence, and consequently classical music. Permission granted, 17,285 people lined up for the college entrance examination. Narrowed down to 105 total enrollments, my mom was one of 20 singers from all of China to join the ranks. This was the first wave of a new revolution — what I call the “Classical Music Revolution of China.”
My dad followed my mom’s footsteps shortly after, and post graduation, followed her to the United States where she pursued her career in opera, and had me. Growing up, classical music and the arts in general, surrounded me. (I am writing this post while my mom’s student is roaring Italian lyrics downstairs.) Our family friends were literally all involved in the arts, and while I dabbled in it, I did not end up a musician–a great mystery and shame to many.
In the west, my mom could study music with American and European teachers, while in the east, the field was still developing. I remember as a child touring around the States watching her perform in Madame Butterfly, La Boheme and Carmen, among others. She also traveled all over the world, singing operas in various European languages. Her career flourished in the west, where opera was an occasion for dressing up and showing off wealth and culture. In the wake of rising tuitions and increasing economic disparity, this is one of Occupy Wall Street’s arguments; performing arts are elitist.
There is no doubt that classical music has historically been limited to the upper class, but as Tommasini points out in his article, there is today an abundance of free and affordable performing arts events throughout New York City. Similarly in China, attending a performance at the National Center for the Performing Arts is not a cheap ordeal. But there are events scattered throughout Beijing that are accessible to those who are curious or interested. The school my mom works for (the high school attached to the Central Conservatory of Music), for example, often puts on free performances for the public. Too bad the turnouts remain to be low.
Many of my mom’s students come from the wealthiest of families — sons and daughters of leaders in the coal industry, an army surgeon, TV/movie stars, political figures, and various successful businesspeople. This is a major difference between music students today and music students from my parents’ generation. My parents were extremely poor when they began schooling, as were all families during that time, but again, classical music was just a budding interest then. Now that the west has full-blown influence over Chinese society and culture (much to Hu Jingtao’s dismay), classical music has become a popular career path. However, only those who can afford the education can find a place in that field, unless you are blessed with a voice that penetrates the heart and soul of the judges at your audition.
I completely agree with Occupy Wall Street protestors that “the main issue regarding performing arts institutions is not inaccessibility but insularity,” because as I said, you have to have the funds to pursue this career. I have questioned my parents’ morality for working for government-run and arguably profit-oriented schools, but after having witnessed their frustrations, the dead ends, and watching my mom teach tirelessly, my mind changed. My parents’ passion for music and grounded dedication to their students are reason enough for my admiration (besides being their only child of course). And from personal encounters with these students, they’re not so bad. Sure, some are snobby teenagers with brand name clothing and a private apartment, but where in the world are there not such people? They are like any other child striving to achieve their dreams as musicians–just like hip hop artists, baseball players, doctors and lawyers–who happen to come from the 1% (most who work their butts off to support their child’s dreams).
There are many things I find wrong with Chinese society (as you may have determined from my previous posts), but one thing I have come to appreciate during my time here is the cultural fervor. Don’t get me wrong, I am aware that many Chinese artists are suppressed, exiled, jailed, because I am lucky to have an outlet to both eastern and western news, but just knowing that they exist excites me because I sense the kindling of a counterrevolution. And knowing that my parents are part of this movement — whether they see it as that or not — makes me very proud to be their daughter.
Life is definitely different now that my parents are classical-music-big-shots as opposed to lower- to middle- class immigrants, but I will never consider our family elitist. We are just a loving bunch of teachers committed to passing on what we know to whoever will listen.
The single most attractive quality of a man (in my opinion) are his hands–aside from his facial features, his body structure, and oh yes, his personality (so easily overlooked). My friends know this about me. Big, strong, and rough, but I can do without the dirt under the nails. I’ve found plenty of these in America and Europe, which I think explains why I have always been attracted to “Western” men and rarely Asian, particularly Chinese, men (NO OFFENSE, CHINESE MEN, IT IS JUST A MATTER OF PERSONAL TASTE!). Biology might also have something to do with the difference between western and Asian hands, but I’m not gonna go there because I got a 540 on my SAT IIs in high school.
People ask me all the time why I don’t find a Chinese boyfriend. Well, here’s the thing; most Chinese men don’t have the kind of hands I’m looking for (that is as shallow as I get, I swear!). Why not, you might ask? Here is my answer based on my observations:
Since I moved to China where I ride the subway daily, I have been able to observe many hands. Most of them are silky smooth and delicate, with nails firmer and longer than my own (especially the pinky nail–I think Chinese people have long pinky nails to clean their ears with. Gross, I know, and they do it in public all the time). Once in a while I will see darker and rougher hands amongst the tender ones, and I know right away that hand must belong to a working man. But then I’ll look at the hand to his left attached to an arm in a suit-sleeve that belongs to another man and I’ll wrinkle my nose and think, huh?
This happens all the time. Then the realization hit me. Men with fragile, snow-white hands are often young and decently dressed, on their way to work in an office while men with rough hands tend to be older or are dressed in working gear.
So, my theory is that the new generation of China who grew up alongside the blooming economy generated a larger group of men who do not have to suffer from hard labor that wrinkle and toughen their hands. Instead, they are wealthier bank tellers, home realtors, retailers, and accountants–jobs that do not require much “handy” work. Migrant workers, construction workers, restaurant chefs, and farmers, on the other “hand,” are laborers that require physical strength. Also, older men of my dad’s generation have such toiled hands because during the Cultural Revolution everyone–men and women–were sent to the fields, thus producing a generation of rough hands. It was also generally much poorer back then so everyone had to work.
So, isn’t it interesting that even hands can (mostly) identify the classism of Chinese society? Hm…
Another observation (1 of 2) I’ve made is of two family friends, both married men of my dad’s age with children. Jack and Bob I’ll call them, have been to the United States and think it’s a wonderful place, especially to raise children. They believe the US has an awesome education system (compared with China, I’ll have to agree) that prospers the mind rather than injects you with facts and details that turn out to be useless anyway (wait, does this happen in the US too? Arguably…). Anyway, they always talk about how great the US is and how independent the children grow up to be (like moi), and how they wished their own children could live there. Jack and Bob speak so highly of the American way of life and want their children to grow up with western morals and values (?!?!?!), yet, Bob will turn to his wife and say, “Don’t speak! You’re a woman. A woman should not interject with such idiotic words!”
You can imagine my horror when Bob said that to his wife at the dinner table. Bob is not a bad guy–in fact, he’s actually quite a loving father–but his treatment of his wife does not reflect well on his daughter who he wants to send to America so that she can grow up to be an independent lady with thoughts and opinions that she can freely share.
And Jack, who wants to move his entire family to the United States, he is also stuck in some age-old man-wife traditions where the mother is the child-rearer and the father is the ricewinner and gets to go out with his friends (Bob also brings home the rice, at least since his daughter was born). I went out to dinner with Jack and family a bit ago and his wife barely said a word!
I have portrayed Jack and Bob unjustly here because they really are good people who love their families, but I wanted to point out how some Chinese men who have been exposed to western culture are stuck somewhere between western values and Chinese ones. Of course people should keep their traditions, but we’re at a weird point in life where it’s hard to balance the old and the new. So instead, we’ll adopt two opposing values–independence and patriarchy–and raise our children.
Paradox seems to be a way of life in China, a Communist country with wealth gaps noticeable by comparing men’s hands.