Art and Reality

The works on display since November 22 at an art exhibition in an ancient house will never be returned to the artists， and if they are， they may have to be pieced back together the local government plans to demolish the exhibition hall， works and all， in the near future.

“The show has a beginning， but it has no specific end，” said the exhibition’s organizer Jin Na， a screenwriter best known for taking home the Best Script Award at the 60th Berlin International Film Festival for the film Apart Together in 2010.

Located at Jiazeng Village in Shishi city， southeast China’s Fujian Province， the building， the old resi- dence of the grandparents of her husband Cai Xiaosong， an artist living in Beijing， is made of tiles and red bricks， and has marble foundations. The courtyard is dotted with fig trees， jasmine and lilac. The works of 20 artists on display in the building have a common theme disappearing cultural relics and include images of Pompeii， Beijing’s Old Summer Palace， and photos depicting folk plays and music.

Demolition Order

In May 2013， the Shishi city government began a plan to turn Jiazeng Village into an international land harbor， the first phase of which was demolition of existing buildings. According to the developer， the village would be demolished before the traditional Chinese New Year vacation， which falls at the end of January.

Jin Na and her husband live in Beijing， but come to stay at their old house every year， and upon hearing of the plan， they headed straight back to Shishi. When they arrived on October 19， they found the village already looked very different to the village they remembered noisy bulldozers roamed the area， turning the formerly quiet and picturesque village into a construction site.

The old house was built in 1950， by Cai Xiaosong’s grandfather Cai Wanqi， an overseas Chinese doing business in Southeast Asia at the time， in response to the then Premier Zhou Enlai’s policy of encouraging Chinese emigrants to return to China to aid reconstruction. The house took three years， and cost four kilograms of gold， to build.

However， more than 60 years later， the house was set to be demolished， with compensation of 100，000 yuan （US$16，470） for a floor space of 190 square meters， and 100 yuan （US$16.5） for every tree in the yard.

Sitting in the courtyard， Jin had mixed feelings about the matter. Looking in the direction of the en-trance， she noticed the code “A 4 02” written on the wall， rather than the familiar Chinese character chai，“demolish，” a spray-painted reminder for demolition crews that has become synonymous with widespread forced demolition in recent years. She later found out that nowadays， crews preferred to use number codes rather than “chai，” perhaps to avoid the taboo associated with the character.

“It was like the number given to a prisoner on death row， who doesn’t know when they are to be executed，”Jin told NewsChina.

That same night， Jin wrote a post on her Weibo， China’s Twitter-like social media platform， venting her anger. “Our magnolias and cape jasmine flowers blossomed 50 years ago， and the fig and pomegranate trees first bore fruit 40 years ago. I wouldn’t even sell them for 80，000 yuan （US$13，176） each. They are my personal possessions.”

The post went viral overnight， and was re-tweeted tens of thousands times， gaining a landslide of support and sympathy. Popular artist Yan Changjiang replied to the post， expressing his intention to donate a piece to Jin， and told her to burn it if the building was demolished. Yan’s words inspired Jin to hold an exhibition inside her old house.

“I hope to keep my old house， the works， and the roots of our culture，” Jin said.

At the suggestion of netizens， Jin invited Zeng Huang， a veteran photographer， to be the show’s academic advisor. In a few days’ time， they had shortlisted more than 20 photographers， and invited them to participate in the event. Most of them sent works， at their own expense， in time for the show’s opening.

To add a little artistic ambiance， Jin decorated the exhibition hall with 50 lilies， and was even planning to invite a tea ceremony specialist and a live musician to the event， but found that the villagers themselves had hired a military-style band， who surrounded the local demolition office and beat their drums on opening day. The villagers also rolled out a 1，000-meter red carpet from the village’s border to the door of Jin’s old house. The day before the opening， more than 100 villagers from the neighboring village， whose houses had been demolished to make way for three-story apartment blocks two years ago， came for a preview of the show.

Unique Show

On November 22， the exhibition kicked off under the title “China： keep back.” Hundreds of people squeezed into the small building， including old people on crutches， college students from the village， and photographers from the nearby city of Xiamen.

The exhibition’s showpiece was perhaps a work by photographer Wang Jinsong， who pieced together 100 images of the character “chai” written on the walls of buildings designated for demolition.

“The role of photographs in promoting social development and influencing history has been underestimated in contemporary China. This show is different it is down to earth， and goes straight to the hearts of the public，” artist Cui Jiannan told NewsChina.

An unexpected visitor to the show was the deputy director of the local demolition office， who visited nearly every day for a week， examining the images carefully and taking snapshots of them with his camera. Jin Na declined to greet him.

By the time the show opened， roughly 60 percent of households in the village had already begrudgingly signed their eviction agreements with the demolition office. Many of those who had not yet signed hoped to gain leverage in their negotiations with the government thanks to the attention the exhibition had brought to the issue.

A week after the exhibition kicked off， the village’s trash collectors were told not to go to work， and rolling electricity blackouts were instigated. One morning at 4 AM， an old temple at the entrance of the village was pulled down， causing several locals to break down in tears when they arrived at the scene.

The exhibition is still open， but Jin Na has returned to Beijing to seek advice from lawyers in the hope of securing the old building’s future. She has a plan to turn the old house into an art gallery in cooperation with the local government. To her temporary relief， Jin has received a promise from the government that forced demolition will not be tolerated， and that all operations will be in accordance with the law.

Jin is still looking for a solution that is satisfactory to both sides. She said that her happiest moments nowadays are when she reads messages of support on Weibo. She is frequently asked whether her old house is still standing， and one netizen commented that he always checks Jin’s microblog account every night before going to sleep.

However， Jin said she would prefer that others didn’t worry too much about the house， and that she will continue to broadcast the news on Weibo on a daily basis. “It is safe today， but you never know what will happen tomorrow，” she said.