Ten years ago, when Michelle Garnaut visited Shanghai as a guest
chef for the Peace Hotel, she was dismayed to find a set of
curtains blocking the view of the city's most famous landmark, the
Bund.
These curtains, it seemed, had always been in place. No one had
thought to take them down.
But one day Garnaut decided to literally pull these curtains out
of the way. At last, there was the view that everyone had been
waiting for: The flowing Huangpu River below, the futuristic Pudong
skyline ahead. And all who now came to dine at the Peace Hotel were
pleased by what they saw.
Epiphanies like these never happen that simply, for life is
seldom so neat, but in that one simple act Garnaut seemed to have
expressed her intentions for Shanghai for the next
decade.?
Today, of course, she has her own view, at M on the Bund, one of
the most popular and respected high-end restaurants in the city.
But Garnaut is hardly the kind of women to sit back and soak up the
scenery.
For the next two weeks, M on the Bund will be a hive of
activity, as it hosts its 4th annual Shanghai Literary
Festival.?37 authors, including some very big names from 11
countries, will pass through her doors, lectures and talks will be
held at M's sister club, The Glamour Bar.
Gore Vidal is here, as is Amy Tan, as well as Kiran Desai, the
Booker Prize Winner for 2006, and culinary expert Madhur Jaffrey.
There's even a rumor that legendary Italian author Umberto Eco is
mulling about in the crowds.
Speaking about the changing face of Shanghai, Vidal said that he
had seen first-hand the impact of China's growth. "After the
cultural revolution there's been a huge burst of energy, which is
quite visible just looking at the city (Shanghai) here. Looking at
the new buildings down there (on the Bund), you feel volatile, you
feel life," Vidal said.
"That really is the human inclination: It's focused towards
'more light, more light'."
But how did Garnaut wind-up in a position to entice people like
Gore Vidal to Shanghai?
The answer lies in Garnaut's curious mixture of gut instinct and
hands-on willpower.
"I first came to Shanghai in 1985, for fun, for a holiday," the
Melbourne-born owner explains. "And I kept coming back every year
because it was such an incredible place to be, always changing,
always growing."
At the time Garnaut was already the boss of a highly successful
restaurant in Hong Kong, M on the Fringe. But after the 1997 Hong
Kong handover, she faced a difficult decision. "Everybody was
heading West, going to Europe or Australia," she remembers.
"Whereas I thought, wouldn't it be fun to go East?"
Garnaut completed her stint at the Peace Hotel, a stint that was
not without its headaches, then began looking around for a place to
open her own restaurant.
"People told me to find a cheap spot in Pudong, to sell food for
20 yuan (US$2.5), to stay away from the Bund, to stick to pizzas
and hamburgers. But I never came to Shanghai to make hamburgers,"
she said.
"At that time, there was still nowhere in the city where you
could get a world-class meal in a decent restaurant, not even in
the hotels." And the more Garnaut explored The Bund, and the more
her instinct gathered pace.
She committed herself to Shanghai's famous waterway and two
years later, M on the Bund opened its doors. "As soon as we opened,
we were famous," says Garnaut. "I'm not being arrogant, I'm just
stating a fact. We were totally booked. We had 100 people a night,
we had the business community, the socialites, the local press, the
international press. Everyone wanted in. It wasn't just a fluke or
blind luck. We had done our research."
At the time, Garnaut simply wanted to run a successful business.
And her restaurant might have stayed that way if had not been for a
nagging suspicion, around 2004, that something was missing.
"After we became successful it became, I don't know, like we no
longer belonged in the community. We had lost something through our
success, through our popularity, through our great location. I knew
we had to become relevant again. We had to put something back. But
what?"
The answer had been staring her in the face: To utilize the
extra space in her restaurant as a venue for music, literary
readings, fringe theater, and comedy routines.
"It cost a lot of money, but it was never about making money,"
she states.
"We had dates where people could gather to listen to music or
watch plays. We had very humble roots. It was cosy and chatty. You
could get six martinis and a show for 50 yuan! That's not how to
run a business! But it was fantastic because we had a built-in
audience from the restaurant, and it became enormously popular very
quickly."
Those days of loose get-togethers and stimulating chitchat (M on
the Bund even hosted a Bloomsday event in 2004 to mark the
centenary of James Joyce's fabled day in Ulysses) are now long
gone, but the spirit of Garnaut's original concept still
remains.
"The literary festival this year is by far the biggest and best
we have done. We have Gore Vidal, and Gore Vidal does not do
literary festivals outside of New York. That's a real coup. It's
fantastic, and I'm very happy, but let's not pretend there hasn't
been an enormous amount of anguish and hard work. This animal costs
a fortune, we have a tiny team of five people running everything,
we are up to our eyes in inquiries, and the interest has been like
avalanche."
But what kind of animal is the Shanghai Literary Festival? One
can define what it is by defining what it is not.
To begin with, it is not a sponsored exercise like the Hong Kong
Man Literary Festival. There are no big corporate big-hitters in
town. Secondly, it is not a public service. Garnaut concedes that
the festival is no longer about free sandwiches and pleasing
everybody. Thirdly, it is not, nor will it ever become, a
commercial enterprise for the city.
"If anyone founded the festival, I founded it. I put in the
work. It was not just a flimsy idea, or knowing a few writers. It
was about planning, financing, and making it happen.
"There is constant chatter about growing the festival, about
expanding to other venues, about making everything larger in scope.
But why? Stability is the key. If we went commercial it would
become a full-time job. I already have a full-time job. And if we
did expand the festival I think it would be a disaster, for many
reasons which I can't go into now because I have to go."
And off Michelle Garnaut goes, dealing with inquiries, bookings,
tables, times, authors, press, and all the other logistics behind
the kind of festival intriguing enough to lure someone like Gore
Vidal.
(China Daily March 14, 2007)