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It was once a common scene in Beijing to see residents queuing
in line to buy Chinese cabbages, one of the few vegetables
available in winter. Greengrocers helped people load their tricycle
trailers with piles of cabbages.
Seldom do Beijingers have to store cabbages nowadays. Locals
have a variety of choices of fruits, vegetables and other foods
both in open markets and in the supermarket.
But you can still see such vegetable stalls along the narrow
alleyways (hutong) of Beijing. Alternatively you could recreate
these images from past lifestyles through Kuang Han's pencil
drawings.
In one of his works, Kuang depicts several residents waiting
aside a cabbage stall on Caishikou Street. Paying attention to
small details one can see a board in the painting reading 0.12 yuan
per jin (3 cents per kilogram).
At his solo exhibition, running permanently at the Wan Fung Art
Gallery in downtown Beijing, Kuang presented nearly 30 such pencil
drawings depicting the daily life in ancient hutong.
The exhibition, entitled "Preserving hutong," is the second of
its kind after a previous series along the same theme in 2002.
During the past decade, Kuang has been dedicated to holding
people's memories of the vanishing hutong by taking photos and
producing pencil drawings.
Kuang's drawings offer the audience the chance to get an insight
into hutong by selecting those most representative of those from
past times.
In a novel way, his art works attract eyes not through rich
colors, but through broad-line pencil sketching.
In recent years fewer painters would use solely pencil sketches
in their artistic creations, since the art form arguably looks less
attractive when compared to colored works. But in the eyes of Kuang
Han, pencil is the best expression of the antique hutong and the
life they contain inside.
"Simple lines do not mean a monotonous content. We know that
Chinese paintings normally apply few colors to demonstrate
unlimited themes. So it is similar with my pencil drawings," said
Kuang.
"In a plain and similar way, pencil brings out the very graceful
side and the cultural spirit of the hutong," Kuang said.
The artist usually devotes his efforts to completing the
delicate and expressive outline of every piece. He likes to adopt
heavy lines to present a rhythmic contrast between light and
shade.
Though perhaps not glamorous, his paintings generally take on a
pure appearance of black, white and grey against the dull yellow
background, and reveal a beauty of old times.
"It is a beauty not belonging to pure nature, but to the
realistic life, through which I'd like to communicate with the
audience the wisdom of our ancestors," Kuang said.
Kuang's pencil drawings tend to lead you into a world of hutong
filled with hustle and bustle.
Dappled sun casts its light on mottled walls through grape
vines. On thick trees hang several bird-cages and embroidered bed
sheets. Small paper ads cover tightly closed wooden doors. Big
Chinese characters saying the word "chai" are seen in a white
circle on the wall representing the up-coming end of another period
of old Beijing life.
Kuang not only presents his audience with artistic pleasure, but
also expresses nostalgia for a time he experienced and
treasures.
Born in Jiangxi Province, Kuang came to Beijing in the late
1980s after graduating from university. He lived in a
single-storey, courtyard house (siheyuan) in the Beixin
Hutong in the following seven years, and developed a strong
fondness of the diverse life that exists in those historical
alleyways.
"There used to be six or more families sharing a siheyuan
(enclosed courtyard) at that time. We often sat by a stone round
table in the courtyard, chatting, appreciating the moon, and
dining. It felt so quiet and peaceful. Though sometimes, you had to
deal with naughty children playing and running from one household
to another," Kuang recalled.
Those sweet memories reappeared in his mind so many times after
he moved into a multi-storey block of flats, and he felt hurt by
the demolition of so many hutong in order to give way to
skyscrapers.
"It is true that people may lead an inconvenient life in hutong.
But I find it difficult to dismiss these houses and communities
from my heart. The hutong is from where Beijing grew and where its
roots are," he said.
Kuang has made countless trips to almost every hutong and has
collected nearly 5,000 photos.
"When drawing I usually sit in a corner with the canvas in my
hand listening to the shout of things like "Potatoes on sale" or
"Beers and erguotou (a kind of Beijing liquor)" from deep
inside the alleyway. It is so enjoyable for me," he said.
Kuang would sometimes receive phones calls from visitors to his
exhibitions, who are pleased to have found the exact hutong
depicted in one of his pencil series.
(China Daily December 21, 2005)
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