| Chinoiserie |
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| Culture | |
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by Jack Tan
When is Chinese culture going to go out of style? Maybe never. In Covent Garden there is a shop called Neal Street East that sells all things oriental, from paper lanterns to bales of silk, Buddha figurines to i-ching tarot sets. Interest in the oriental has reached such a level in British society that every One Pound shop in the country is selling Feng Shui candles and Neal Street East is doing brisk business. We think that this fad is new but British fascination with Chinese culture has been around for over 200 years. In 1753 a journalist wrote in a periodical "The World" that "everything is in the 'Chinese Taste', or ... after 'the Chinese manner', chairs, tables, chimney-pieces, frames for looking glasses are all reduced to this new fangled standard" (Dewing et al, 1992: 2). Yet even in his time the interest in Chinese culture had existed since Marco Polo 'discovered' China in the 13th century. But it was in the 18th century that chinoiserie reached its zenith. Desire for Chinese silks, porcelain, and tea reached such acute levels that the British government even used opium and war to force trade from China.
But perhaps as British Chinese people, we also contribute to 'chinoiserising' ourselves in British society and making our 'real' Chinese face invisible. How often do we avoid asserting or explaining our Chinese ways for fear of rocking the boat or appearing too serious? How often do we even spare a thought for whether we are compromising our Chinese values for our British ones? And indeed, how often do we even bother to try identifying what our Chinese values are? It seems that the appeal and mass acceptance of Chinese 'things' does not necessarily mean the acceptance of Chinese culture or Chinese people on their own terms. In a society where Confucian philosophy is reduced to nasal high-pitched "Wise man say..." jokes and Chinese spouses or partners are expected to behave in a completely British manner, it is obvious that Chinese ethnicity is an accessory merely to be shown off, played with, worn or possessed. For some of our British partners and employers our Chinese sides are not real and ironically, they congratulate themselves for being so 'colour-blind'. But the danger is that we too may have become blind to our own Chineseness. D Dewing, H Dover, J Graffius and S Hemming (1992) Chinese Homes: Chinese Traditions in English Homes. London: The Geffrye Museum. |
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Camden
Town on a sunny Saturday afternoon is alive, buzzing, chic, alternative
and hip. Walking towards the Lock I pass from reggae beat to hip-hop to
Latin rhythm and see people in funny hairdos, tattoos, skate-wear, and
piercings. In the middle of all this young trendiness I spot T-shirts
with what looks like Chinese writing on them. On closer inspection, I
realise that these are not real Chinese characters, but jumbled up knots
of strokes and swishes. Chineseness, it seems, is still in fashion. Last
year I thought that the Chinese trend would pass by this Summer. Then
I remembered that I had thought the same the year before.
Today
the tea, porcelain, furniture design and textiles of China have now passed
into British culture, appropriated and produced by Britain as if they
were her own. But Britain has only appropriated the form of Chineseness
and not the substance. Tea without symbolism, design without equilibrium,
form without understanding; it is mere chinoiserie. Other objects of Chinese
culture are held at arms length, put behind glass in a museum, enclaved
in Chinatowns, or accessorised on a shop rack. Although British culture
has engaged directly with Chinese culture for 250 years or more, there
is very little understanding or acceptance of the 'real' Chinese in British
society. 
