A HISTORY of JAZZ in CHINA: from YELLOW MUSIC to a JAZZ REVIVAL in BEIJING a Thesis Submitted to the College of the Arts of Ke

Home , 1904 in jazz, Albert Mangelsdorff, Beijing Dance Academy, Beijing Department Store, Bei Bei, Bi Sheng

A HISTORY OF JAZZ IN CHINA: FROM YELLOW MUSIC TO A JAZZ REVIVAL IN BEIJING

A thesis submitted to the College of the Arts of Kent State University in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Master of Arts

Mo Li

August, 2018

Thesis written by

Mo Li

B.A., Nanjing University of the Arts, 2010

M.A., Kent State University, 2018

Approved by

______Kazadi wa Mukuna, Ph.D., Advisor

______Jane K. Dressler, D.M.A., Interim Director, School of Music

______John R. Crawford-Spinelli, Ed.D., Dean, College of the Arts

TABLE OF CONTENTS

LIST OF FITURES ...... v

LIST OF TABLES ...... vii

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS ...... viii

INTRODUCTION ...... 1 Background ...... 3 Review of Literature ...... 10 Theory and Methodology ...... 24 PART I. RECONCEPTUALIZING YELLOW MUSIC ...... 41

Chapter One: Yellow Journalism 1.1. Product of U. S. A...... 44 1.2. Sensationalism, Moral Persuasion and Mimi Zhiyin ...... 55 1.3. Fictional Roots of Chinese Yellow Press ...... 64 1.4. Yellow Journalism in Shanghai ...... 71 Chapter Two: From Mimi Zhiyin to Yellow Music 2.1. A Prelude of Yellow Music—Mimi Zhiyin of the 1930s...... 77 2.1.1. Women, Music and Shanghai ...... 82 2.1.2. The Problem of Style ...... 103 2.1.3. Nie Er and Li Jinhui ...... 115

2.2. 1959...... 117 2.2.1. The Word “Jazz” ...... 118 2.2.2. The Story of Yellow Music ...... 124

2.3. A Modernization Built on Calques ...... 129

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PART II. A JAZZ REVIVAL IN BEIJING...... 140

Chapter Three: The 1980s 3.1. A Change in Tone ...... 141 3.1.1. Qing Yinyue: The Light Music ...... 142 3.1.2. A Review of Yellow ...... 148 3.2. Xia Hai, Gao Kao and Bei Piao ...... 151 Chapter Four: Jazz in Beijing ...... 158 4.1. Fathers and Missionaries of Jazz in Beijing ...... 162 4.1.1. Matt Roberts ...... 164 4.1.2. David Moser ...... 181

4.2. Music Schools and the New Generations ...... 198 4.2.1. MIDI ...... 198 4.2.2. Xia Jia ...... 199 4.2.3. BCMA and Gao Kao ...... 203 4.2.4. Xiao Dou ...... 213 4.2.5. Moreno ...... 223 4.2.6. Nathaniel Gao ...... 227 4.2.7. Zhang Ke ...... 233

4.3. Beijing Style ...... 238 Chapter Five: The Identity of Jazz Musicians in Beijing 5.1. Identity ...... 253 5.2. Identity or Not ...... 262

CONCLUSION ...... 269

BIBLIOGRAPHY ...... I

LIST OF FIGURES

Figure 1. Guiseppe Castilione, Qianlong Dayue ...... 41

Figure 2. One issue of the Yellow Kids ...... 45

Figure 3. “The Big Type War of the Yellow Kids” ...... 48

Figure 4. Harlem Gentlemen at the Canidrome ...... 102

Figure 5. Harlem Gentlemen with Duke Ellington ...... 102

Figure 6. Buck Clayton’s Life in Shanghai ...... 102

Figure 7. Seiji Ozawa Conducting at the Peking's Capital Stadium ...... 157

Figure 8. Matt Roberts ...... 163

Figure 9. David Moser ...... 180

Figure 10. David Moser at the Ah Q Arkestra Concert ...... 198

Figure 11. Xia Jia at the 18th JVC Jazz Festival ...... 201

Figure 12. BCMA Main Building ...... 202

Figure 13. J. Kyle Gregory’s Big-Band Class ...... 202

Figure 14. Vacant Land around BCMA ...... 204

Figure 15. Xiao Dou at the Blue Note Beijing ...... 215

Figure 16. Moreno Donadel ...... 225

Figure 17. Nathaniel Gao at the Blue Note Beijing ...... 229

Figure 18. Zhang Ke at the Blue Note Beijing ...... 235

LIST OF TABLES

Table 1. A Comparison: Yellow Journalism and Yellow Music ...... 270

Table 2. Émile Durkheim: The Division of Labor in Society ...... 272

Table 3. Identity as Jazz Musician ...... 276

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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I dedicate this thesis to the jazz musicians in Beijing. Their fantastic stories deserve to be known by more people. I am indebted to Bobby Selvaggio, Chris Cole, and their colleagues from the Kent State Jazz Studies program, for opening the door of the esoteric knowledge of jazz to a layperson like me. Thanks also to my advisor Kazadi wa

Mukuna, for his guidance, patience, and high expectations of my work. Thanks to my committee members, Andrew Shahriari and Jennifer Johnstone, for their enthusiastic supports and earnest advices. I give special thanks to my parents and my husband

Pablo; their love is the reason I move forward.

viii

INTRODUCTION

This thesis explores the history of jazz in China through the contemporary society in Beijing. The interlinked issues of morality, identity and post-modernism are key to this discussion. I focus on the relationships between these three, in which references to many counter-intuitive facts converge and show clues that prepared the ground for a jazz revival in 1980s Beijing, and what led the jazz community to its current configuration. I began with morality as the starting point from which all other arguments derive, as it was the core of the ideology that designated the roles and types of music in the traditional Chinese society. Within this ideology, music had long been made a subordinate media for ruling, which determined the priority of music by its social function. Consequently, morality was valued more than beauty in the manifest tradition and defined two broad categories of music: moral and immoral music. Often politically oriented, the referent of immoral music was described as the beautiful music of others. For example, the birth of the term yellow music in the very year heralding the

Cold War confirmed this term’s transacting with jazz music, a symbol of the American life-style.

Although the will of the ruling class was to have a total control of the population, its manifestation only impacted the surface of the ancient Chinese society. This resulted in two types of traditions in Chinese history, manifest traditions and latent traditions (or

2 sub-traditions). Sub-societies perpetuated their own norms and traditions, which replenished social needs failed by the “service” of central ideologies. As musical morality was foisted upon society, based on the will of those in power, seeking a forbidden beauty shaped a latent tradition, which characterized musicians’ sub- societies in ancient China. This latent tradition was a reaction to the hierarchy, yielded by central ideologies and defining the status of musicians as being at the bottom of society. Meanwhile, a sustained disparity of values between the manifest society and the musicians’ sub-society strengthened their division.

Since the 1980s, inherited the historical role of musician sub-societies, a

“community” gradually took form in Beijing, with jazz musicians originally from official institutes. In refusing the conventional view, and later the commercial view of jazz, the “jazz community” in Beijing progressively forged an identity as jazz musicians, which in turn provided the coherence, shared aim, behavior codes and standards for competition within the community.

However, this newly forged identity soon encountered the challenge of a post- modern trend in which some of the musicians refused to define their music or, indeed, themselves. The unified definitions on the mission of the community and on its dedication to the music has been contested by a cloud of narratives from the center of

Beijing’s jazz scene. Competition is decentralized by various standards and the burgeoning of new scenes and music schools. Will this be a crisis for the Beijing jazz

3 community? And are the disagreements on identity going to tear apart the community?

Or is the problem the very cloud of narratives in coexistence with identity?

Background

The recent rise of jazz has caught the attention of the Chinese media, as well as that of jazz players around the world. The Chinese media noticed this because the mainstream popular music was sounding more and more “jazzy.” To the players, jazz was providing more job opportunities in the Chinese market. In 1972, President Richard

Nixon visited China, opening the relationship between the People’s Republic of China and the U.S. Jazz came to Beijing not too long after this opening, and gradually occupied a considerable share of the night life of this city. Hence, the expansion of jazz increased its influence steadily, along with the progress of collaboration between China and the U.S. yet did not garner much attention from the American government until recently. Now more and more American public and governmental entities consider jazz as a means for diplomatic exhibitions, cultural communication, and economic collaboration with China, which I will be detail later with the case of Blue Note jazz club in Beijing.

However, the reason why jazz expanded into Beijing after the 1970s was not due merely to the relationship between China and America, but more to the opening policy

4 since 1978,1 which was supported by Deng Xiaoping, the paramount leader of China from 1978 to 1993.2 In December 1978, the Eleventh conference held by the Central

Committee of the Communist Party of China was approaching to an end.3 As a result, the review of injustices, in many cases during the Cultural Revolution, was appealed and approved; President Hua Guofeng, the successor of Chairman Mao Zedong was replaced by Deng Xiaoping as the paramount leader; and policies encouraging economic development and education were established as of primary concern by the party. The country was then reopened to the international trade and media, and millions of young people resumed their academic career by coming to colleges in large cities like Beijing. At this moment, many forms of foreign music, previously disdained as immoral or capitalistic poisons, flooded China overnight as the nation’s gate opened.

The Chinese people, who had just survived from a desolate era which marked by a black-and-white ideology, were suddenly exposed to a thorough crush of thoughts. A great change brewed within this crush, and the instinctive pursuit of joy, beauty, wealth, and comfort gradually took hold as civilian life was restored. For the intellectuals, this cultural and economic restoration brought hope, and they started to pursue their careers on their own. With the watershed of 1978, an old debate on the

1 Refers to the policy of “reform and opening up.” Discussed in Chapter Three. 2 A term used in China before 1993, referring to a politician who had substantial power but not entitled as the president. The actual president had only symbolic position in the parliament and was subordinate to the paramount leader. 3 The 3rd Plenary Session of the 11th Central Committee of the Communist Party of China.

5 direction of China’s modernization was again the focus of intellectuals—between—

Westernization or Orientalizing. This ongoing debate had begun in the 1860s, at the outset of China’s modernization, and has never obtained any consensus.4 However, in the 1980s, hint after hint demonstrated post-modern trend in the art world and in secular life, which pointed to China’s modernization in the foreseeable future.

The year 1978 was also a turning point for jazz musicians entering China from

Europe. For in this year, China turned from an isolated and mysterious land into a vast, uncultivated market with huge population and great possibilities. Meanwhile, a post- modern trend in jazz from the U.S. became internationalized, and especially accepted by European audiences. This trend centered on Germany and Holland, with the rise of avant-garde jazz figures like German musician Albert Mangelsdorff, and Dutch musician Willem Breuker.5 But in the 1980s, avant-garde jazz soon declined in New

York, the “Mecca” of jazz. Wynton Marsalis, who called for traditionalizing jazz, protested avant-garde jazz as a deviation from the basic value of jazz.6 Thus, possessing a huge population but few premises about jazz, China became an ideal location for

European musicians to expand their postmodern jazz ideology. Along with the earliest

4 This debate first appeared in the 1860s, during “Yangwu Yundong” (洋务运动 the Imperial Westernization movements), which ended up in the doctrine, “Western knowledge for use; Chinese ideology as principle.” (西学为用，中学为体.) This doctrine was criticized in 1898, when Reformists like Kang Youwei and Liang Sitong advocated a constitutional reform, and a second-round debate ensued. 5 Mellonee V. Burnim and Portia K. Maultsby, African American Music: An Introduction (New York: Routledge, 2006), 163-188. 6 Ibid.

6 foreign population influx into China after 1970s, jazz lovers from Europe were first to venture into the performing market of Beijing. They soon found local musicians already fascinated by jazz and started collaborating with them. With the effort of both sides, more and more activities related to jazz emerged. In 1993 the first Beijing Jazz Festival appeared, promoted by the German Udo Hoffman, the most important foreigner in the history of Beijing jazz festivals.

On the other hand, the U.S. remains inextricably linked to jazz no matter where it is performed, for this genre iconifies America in the musical world. When Chinese

President Xi Jinping visited President Obama in the United States, he took with him a

Beijing Opera troop, and in return was presented with a jazz show at Lincoln Center.

This exchange of musical culture implied that where the Chinese consider Beijing Opera one of their most typical art genres, representing their traditional music internationally,

Americans give jazz similar value for the U.S. Furthermore, the earliest seed sprouting jazz in Beijing’s soil came from America. Before teachers and live performances were available in China, musicians learned their first jazz lessons by listening to recordings by legendary musicians, such as John Coltrane and Miles Davis. After study abroad became easier for Chinese civilians, more and more Chinese jazz players made the pilgrim to New York, and still consider this city the Mecca of jazz.

Nowadays, jazz in China receives more support from the American government who thus promote it as a program fostering good communication between these two

7 countries. Educators have been sent to China, and funds are invested to enhance the development of jazz in China. In June 2015, the president of Blue Note Entertainment

Group, Steven Bensusan disclosed that the Blue Note chain would extend its jazz clubs into Beijing, at East Qianmen Street No. 23, where the old American Embassy had been from 1900 to the end of 1930s.7 The location was chosen under the diplomatic consideration that jazz would likely foster cultural communication between China and the U.S.

But the opening of the new Blue Note club in Beijing as one of the programs set to enhance cooperation between China and America, originally scheduled for March

2016, was postponed until August that year. This delay likely involved the location of the bar. Every March, the Congress Hall of the People holds a national conference, with an attendance of around 2,000 to 3,000 representatives from all over the country. The government must shut down the traffic around the whole district to make sure the representatives can arrive safely and on time from all possible corners of this area.

Being too close to the Congress Hall, the new Blue Note club would be within the restricted area. One staff member told me that the club owners had not envisioned the traffic shutting down when they were planning the opening.

7 Nate Chinen, “Blue Note Jazz Club Plans Expansion to China,” New York Times, June 25, 2015, accessed July 10, 2015, http://www.nytimes.com/2015/06/25/arts/music/blue-note-jazz-club- plans-expansion-to-china.html.

The Blue Note club is located in a special historical district of Qianmen, where there has been a boundary between the central government and the civilian life since

1421. In English “qian” (前) means “front”, and “men” (门) means “gate.” Before 1949, the city of Beijing was divided into two parts, the Inner City and the Outer City, by a thick wall. Although the gate of the city wall is officially named Zhengyang Men (正阳

门), in colloquial language this gate and its vicinity is called Qianmen, for as it is the gate of the Inner City.

Zhengyang Men has been known as a place for business gatherings since the third emperor Zhu Di of Ming dynasty (1368—1644 AD) moved the capital from

Nanjing to Beijing in 1421.8 After 1644, Manchu people came to Beijing, which expelled the original Han residents from the Inner City to outskirt locations of Zheng Yang Men and established the Qing Dynasty (1644—1912). Before that, businesses flourished throughout Tian Qiao9 until Chengtian Men. Every gate became a center for markets

8 Qianmen district was formed during the reign of the third emperor (1402—1424) of the Ming Dynasty (1368—1644 AD). Zhu Di (朱棣), son of the founder of Ming dynasty, Zhu Yuanzhang (朱元璋), who was the Duke of Bei Ping (now Beijing), and the uncle of the legal heir (Zhu Yunwen) of the throne. In 1399, Zhu Di initiated a coup and usurped the throne from his nephew, Zhu Yunwen (朱允炆), the grandson of Zhu Yuanzhang. In 1368, Zhu Yuanzhang settled the capital in Nanjing, and passed his throne to his grandson, Zhu Yunwen. In 1421, to enhance his power, the usurper and the new emperor, Zhu Di, moved the capital from Nanjing to Beijing. Although the commercial center in the early Ming era was the district around Chengtian Men (承天门, it is called Tian’an Men, 天安门, today), flourishing of businesses around Qian Men had already grown to a considerable scale. 9 Tian Qiao, 天桥, literarily means the” skyway,” originally referred to a stone bridge, across which the emperor coming from the Forbidden City could submit the sacrifice to heaven on the altar in the Temple of Heaven. For the importance as the path also channeling the urban residential in the south with old wall districts of Beijing, there accumulated many businesses around the vicinity of the bridge. Compare with Qianmen district which was famous for shops and restaurants, Tian Qiao featured street

9 and performing arts. During the Qing Dynasty, because the Inner City was strongly controlled, the Han residents who had been expelled from the inner city gathered around Qianmen and transformed this district into an exclusive commercial center of

Beijing.

The Qianmen district thrived throughout the Ming and Qing Dynasties, maintaining itself as a commercial center for Beijing and the republic China until the

1950s. Performing venues also developed along with the prosperity of commerce.

Different from the street arts in Tian Qiao, the performing venues in Qianmen inclined to “elite arts,” with more teahouses and well-built stages. The influence of the performances in Qianmen stretched out to further areas until Xiheyan and Hufang

Qiao, where many complexes called Hui Guan10 focused on affluent clients, rather than lower class people of Tian Qiao. There were still street performers gathered around the watchtower of Zhengyang Men in the Qianmen district, those artists also performed in variously rated teahouses and theatres. In addition to their music, they also performed various genres of narrative called Qu Yi.11 After 1949, they assembled together to fund

artists and all kinds of performing arts. 10 Hui Guan: 会馆, a kind of civilian institution which provided accommodation for travelers, especially merchants and students, from the same provinces of the founder. Around Qianmen district, many Hui Guans had elegant stages, called Xilou (戏楼) for outstanding Beijing opera singers at that time. For example, Zhengyici Xilou (正乙祠戏楼) of Zhejiang Hui Guan (浙江会馆) on Qianmen Xiheyan Street (前门西河沿) was one of the hosts for the famous singer Mei Lan Fang (梅兰芳). 11 Qu Yi, in Chinese 曲艺, is the collective terminology for many street narrative genres around the Beijing, Hebei and Tianjin districts.

Quyi troops, and commissioned famous playwrights like Lao She to write scripts. By

1952, this form of show gradually turned into professional and dramatic presentations, which ultimately funded the Beijing Quju Orchestra.

After the 1950s, the communist government removed the city wall and modified the transportation network over Beijing. The Qianmen district, once the commercial center in the heart of Beijing, declined with many new business districts booming around the former Inner City. Shicha Hai is one of these districts and has been the preferred location for bars and live music since the 2000s. The rise of Shicha Hai brought a new word, “night life,” to the district outside the embassy district in Sanli

Tun, where night life had been brought by foreigners long ago. More interesting than

Sanli Tun, Shicha Hai was a purely traditional district, constructed with a long and narrow lake, water lilies blooming every summer, decorated ancient bridges and houses projecting their shadows and light onto the lake. Currently this district is the center of jazz in Beijing.

Review of the Literature

Very little academic research or literature in English has focused on Chinese jazz.

Among the few substantial works, Yellow Music: Media Culture and Colonial Modernity in the Chinese Jazz Age (2001), by Andrew F. Jones, is the most important research that connects jazz and Chinese popular music with the early stages of China’s

11 modernization. Jones refers to the “Chinese jazz age,” a time when both yellow music and a new form of left-wing12 music for the masses arose—around the 1930s.13 Yellow music refers to “obscene music,” was the old perception of jazz and jazz-influenced popular music in pre-1980s China. This term was discovered by Jones during his investigation into the historical data of China’s modernization in the 1930s, and becomes key for his interpretation the Chinese jazz age.

Jones starts his argument by exploring the forming of Chinese modern musical institutions, revealing the establishment of new authorities at the beginning of this modernization. For him, the modernization of Chinese music emerged from the May

4th Movements,14 stimulated by the colonialization of Westerners and rooted in the traditional Chinese thought that “good music” would strengthen the nation.15 Jones supports this idea in interpreting comments on traditional Chinese music made by

Berlioz and Chinese reformist musicians, like Xiao Youmei.16 These comments were based on facts that biased by their Western musical backgrounds towards traditional

Chinese music. Thus, the earliest stage of the Chinese musical modernization was

12 Left-wing, or leftists, refers to the early communists of China. 13 Andrew F. Jones, Yellow Music: Media Culture and Colonial Modernity in the Chinese Jazz Age (Durham: Duke University Press 2001), 6. 14 The May 4th Movements are a series of movements happened around May 4, 1919, which were initialed by reformist intellectuals. The title, May 4th Movements, comes from the peak of these movements at May 4, 1919, when students of Beijing demonstrated in front of Tian’an Men, against the decision of transferring China’s territory to Japan, made by Paris Peace Conference without the consent of Chinese representatives. 15 Jones, Yellow, 21-52. 16 箫友梅, 1884-1940.

12 permeated with a Westernization of ideology. Jones also disinters historical data related to the transmission of European music into the Ming and early Qing dynasties, long before Westernization, which was rarely mentioned by other researchers. In these histories of European missionaries introducing Western music into Asia, no protest against Westernization appears from the Chinese ruling class; instead, all Chinese emperors merely accept a “refreshing” Western instrument, the harpsichord, as a new recreation in the palace. Thus, after 1840, the Westernization of China is at some degree forced by the colonial violence.

After presenting the historical background of Chinese musical modernization,

Jones contrasts the popularity of jazz, or “jazzy” music (shown by the material evidence of historical data in the circulation of Gramophone records) with the denouncement of these two genres as entertainment music pervasive in leftist media. Jones’ study reveals the beginning of devaluating critics on jazz, and excavates the facts of the Chinese jazz age, which had long been covered by journalists and critics under polarized views until his research. This polarization formed within the bias of both colonists and anti- colonists, and was strengthened during the Cold War. Additionally, the auto-biography of Buck Clayton, also frequently quoted in Yellow Music, provides a witness for the facts structuring Jones’ argument.

Jazz had been brought to China as early as 1920s, and gained considerable popularity in the famous ballrooms of Shanghai. Buck Clayton, a trumpet player in

Count Basie’s band, reserves a chapter in his autobiography, Buck Clayton’s Jazz World

(1989) for his experience touring Shanghai. This chapter is a valuable resource for researchers, showing China’s earliest jazz scene in old Shanghai through the eyes of an

American player. Before his trip to China, Clayton had been based in Los Angeles where he led a band called Harlem Gentlemen, whose members were all from the western part of the United States.17 In 1934, Clayton met Teddy Weatherford, who was hired by Tong Vong Company of Shanghai as a booking agent, and who was searching for American jazz bands. Weatherford was interested in Buck’s band and brought them back to Canidrome, Shanghai, where he was based at the moment. The combined results of curiosity for the East and their discontent with difficult lives as African-

Americans in the U.S., led Buck and his band members to happily agreed to employment on the other side of the Pacific Ocean.18

The continuous arrival of American jazz players in the 1930s made Shanghai the center of jazz in Asia, with Japanese and Russian jazz lovers gathered here, attempting to learn from the American bands. Canidrome Ballroom, owned by Mr. Tung and Mr.

Vong, was the most important site in Shanghai for American jazz. Before Clayton and his Harlem Gentlemen had arrived, other American musicians, like the Jack Cater band and Valaida Snow, were performing there. As recalled by Clayton, Shanghai in the

17 Buck Clayton, Buck Clayton’s Jazz World, assisted by Nancy Miller Elliot (Oxford: Bayou Press Ltd 1989): 53 18 Ibid, 60.

1930s was an international metropolis, with people from “all corners of the world.”19

This city’s population resulted from a micro-globalization brought by colonialization, and people with divergent nationalities formed from its hierarchy. As Americans,

Clayton and his band members could enjoy the benefits brought by the position of their country, especially the exchange rate. They could buy luxury products they could not afford in their country.20 Besides, they felt more respected and released from the racial discrimination of the U.S.

We felt pretty good about it and I still say today that the two years I spent in China were the happiest two years of my life. My life seemed to begin in Shanghai. We were recognized for a change and treated with so much respect.21

However, this pre-mature globalization of the 1920s and 1930s was not enjoyed by all residents in Shanghai. While elites and rich foreigners benefited from the globalization and enrichment of their life by the influx of international resources, a considerable proportion of the Chinese population, especially the poor, remained deprived from all profits. Huge disparities of income and life style meant that most

Chinese remained isolated from fashionable entertainments. Real American jazz was only performed in luxury ballrooms like Canidrome, where only the top rank of elites could come, for example the wife of Chiang Kai-shek (the Chinese president from 1928 to 1975); ordinary locals were not invited. Clayton verified this situation in commenting

19 Ibid, 67-69. 20 Ibid, 70. 21 Ibid.

15 that “many Chinese people could not even afford to look at the Canidrome Ballroom where his [Clayton’s] orchestra was the headline act.”22 Even while it originated from

African American music culture and providing respect and livelihood for these people who suffered racial discrimination, jazz held a negative image for the Chinese public because of the disparity of income in Shanghai; They viewed it as extravagant and rotten culture brought by cruel foreign invaders.

Nonetheless, jazz was never totally isolated from the Chinese public. Some jazz recordings circulated in the Chinese market, but sold more within the foreign communities than local ones. Jones observes in Yellow Music that the popularity of phonograph recordings in the 1920s and 1930s Shanghai is central for demonstrating what was popular at that time. Among those old Shanghai recordings, a style of popular music, combined with jazz, Tin Pan Alley songs, and Chinese folk songs merged with its huge share of sales. (Such recordings were remade and labeled as

Chinese jazz recently.) However, the many singers, such as Zhou Xuan,23 recorded and were considered pop stars, not jazz musicians, at that time.

A prominent jazz saxophonist of Beijing, Liu Yuan, does not regard the jazz- influenced music of old Shanghai as real jazz. He strengthens this argument by noting the important elements of jazz are its harmony, rhythm, and improvisation; in the so-

22 Jones, Yellow Music, 6. 23 周璇, 1920~1957.

16 called old Shanghai Chinese jazz, the chord progressions were simply rigidly applied from Classical music or Hollywood film music, which matched the given melody. In this jazz, he argues, melody is the most important thing (which is contrary to the trend of jazz, bebop, in the 1940s); the rhythm was typical ballroom style, waltz or Charleston, and a few of the instrumental parts performed these without swing. And more important, this ballroom “jazz” was totally composed, with no improvisation at all.24

Jones also questioned the authenticity of “Chinese jazz:”

Clayton’s account of his years in Shanghai alerts us to the folly trying to understand Chinese jazz as an example of Western influence on Chinese musical forms. Nor can the “Chinese” in “Chinese jazz” be relegated to the realm of the merely adjectival and understood as a modifier of what remains an essentially African American musical genre.25

Jones argues that old Shanghai “Chinese jazz” was not really jazz because the degree of Chinese elements in this form of music was enough to identify it distinctively from jazz. The influences of jazz in old Shanghai popular songs were probably likely reduced to its being scored for a jazz ensemble (with saxophones, piano, bass and drum set), and thus giving the impression of jazz, which for Chinese audience jazz also meant it should be played in night clubs as an accompaniment for dance. The frequent adoption of this impression, as shown in the amount of jazzy songs on old phonograph recordings, was evidence that this ersatz jazz style was quite welcome for some time.

24 Liu Yuan, interview by author, Beijing, April 5, 2016. 25 Jones, Yellow Music, 7.

This is to say that most Chinese people in 1920s and 1930s Shanghai had no direct contact with jazz and were given the impressions of jazz from popular music, spread through films and phonograph recordings.

Besides the general Chinese disdain towards entertainment music, the grudge against the new popular music in the 1920s and 1930s escalated in a historical moment when China under sovereign crisis. This vital moment evoked guilt and anguish in

Chinese intellectuals toward all entertainments, and they expressed their anxiety about

China’s future, for example, by quoting a poem of an identical instance in the historical past, “the lady of Shang’s fief doesn’t know the pain of a falling dynasty, their singing of Yushu Houtinghua is still heard across the river.”26 Jones’ research articulates the activities of many crucial figures like Nie Er and Li Jinhui, who represented the main powers pushing the development of Chinese popular music, and how this musical critique grew into condemnation and bitter devaluing.

Another contribution by Jones is his analysis of the economic forces on the development of Chinese culture. He stresses that the judgement on jazz and Chinese popular music involved a formidable change in China’s economic foundation. The traditional Chinese agricultural economy collapsed under the rush of colonialism.

Masses of people rushed from smaller and rural areas into Shanghai during this time as

26 From a poem composed by Du Mu, detailed in Chapter 2.

18 refugees from the war violence in their hometown, or from the collapsed economy in vast rural districts. Many young people, including intellectuals (this group of young intellectuals later became the main body of the Chinese communists), searched for a livelihood in the cities. Discontented with their hard life, these emigrants into Shanghai were more and more inclined to be radical and restless about the political situation of

China. The luxury ballroom recreation, which leftists labeled a symbol of capitalist culture, gradually became one of the targets of hatred. Thus, the economic term capitalism, began bearing more and more distorted connotations for the Chinese, for example, as the “original sin” of the Western World, which coincided with arguments

Karl Marx made in Das Kapital.

In Readings in Social Theory: The Classic Tradition to Post-Modernism, James

Farganis introduces Jean François Lyotard’s idea of Marxism as one of the metanarratives in Enlightenment modernism. Farganis reckons that meta-narratives have a positive function in science during the modernization period, but that they became outdated in the post-modern era. Lyotard argues that meta-narratives “impose meaning onto historical events rather than explore the significance of those events empirically,” which causes the perception of the truth distorted by the power struggles behind these narrations. Restrained by “telos,” the old meta-narrative approach was

19 denounced and proclaimed as abandoned by post-modernists. 27 Meanwhile, Farganis stresses post-modern theorists as also “debunking” the modernists’ declaration of science and universal objectivity as a guise to cover the “surreptitiously exercised power.”28 This argument suggests that Lyotard’s post-modern statement against meta- narratives not only “delegitimized intellectual structures,” but also underlines the bias as unavoidable in any narration. 29

Before the communists came into China, there were continuous debates between reformists who advocated Westernization, and conservatives who refused any change, since Western colonialism caused the old Chinese society to collapse. Behind this debate, was a confrontation between knowledge with power, although no one predicted

China’s modernization in the end. While the norms and confidence of traditional culture was collapsing, overwhelming colonialization forced China to accept a

Westernization that was also detrimental for the growth of local capitalist power, on which most of the reformists relied. China’s encounter with Marxism thus provided one of the solutions for her modernization, which circumvented the debate between

Westernization and traditionalizing. Without much scrutiny on the theory, the new rise of communists, with their passionate meta-narration of Marxism, won over the public

27 James Farganis, “Post-Modernism,” in Readings in Social Theory: The Classic Tradition to Post- Modernism, 6th ed. (New York: McGraw-Hill 2011), 424. 28 Ibid, 423. 29 Ibid.

20 in the 1930s, when the Japanese invasion pressured China to find a way for the salvation of the country.

However, the direction of China’s modernization remains unsolved. In the 1980s, the old debate of Westernization and traditionalizing was revived in a TV program called “River Elegy.” Besides maintaining this debate, this program gave rise to a tide of rediscovery and questioning of Chinese traditions, which encouraged people to seek a new direction for China’s development. 30

Jones ends his exploration of Chinese jazz with the post-war modernization era.

It is necessary for his successors to look into a new epoch to discover how the ideology of yellow music has changed, for this change reflects a facet of Chinese society as decentralized, secularized and preparing for post-modernism. More important, the occurrence of divergent interpretations around jazz is an indicator that people are still looking for an answer but now through a post-modernist lens, for the old debate about

Westernization or traditionalism.

In his dissertation, “China’s New Voices: Politics, Ethnicity and Gender in

Popular Music Culture on the Mainland,” Bernoviz Nimrod views popular music as sprouting after this mid-century turning point, thus a barometer of the society, or a showcase for various social forces. He explores the diversity that existed in China

30 C.X. George Wei and Xiaoyuan Liu eds., Chinese Nationalism in Perspective: Historical and Recent Cases (Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 2001), 205-232

21 between 1978 and 1997 through in-depth fieldwork about popular music, for “popular music shapes and mirrors the society and the culture as they change.”31 Nimrod set 1978 as a watershed for his study, as the beginning of the economic development after the devastation of Cultural Revolution, diversity in thought, and more freedom in the arts and lifestyles, even encouragement of these by the government. With this sudden opening in the country, the Chinese were released from a confined and tough life overnight, and began to live with hope. The society was enriched dramatically by the frequent germinations of new facets folded under the earth of restraint. Jazz was suitable for one of the facets and joined in the new voices.

Although not focusing on jazz, Nimrod’s study provides a background of the popular music, “yellow music” in the period of time investigated by Jones, and its development after the watershed of 1978.

It is against such background that this study aims to reveal the new diverse subcultures and voices that are emerging in China today, understand the plurality of relationships and interactions between them, and make sense of the general transformation.32

The development of jazz in Beijing, accompanied by a similar background, shares many of the features in the big market, but is very different musically from popular music, and has divergent communities. Instead of limiting his study within the

31 Bernoviz Nimrod, “China’s New Voices: Politics, Ethnicity, and Gender in Popular Music Culture on the Mainland, 1978~1997” (PhD diss., University of Pittsburg, 1997), 1, accessed April 24, 2016, ProQuest Dissertations & Theses. 32 Ibid, 3.

Western concept of popular music, Nimrod zooms out to the big picture of Chinese culture and defines all forms of public music as popular music. The propaganda music of the government, used “to establish its hegemony and disseminate its ideology,”33 is also considered part of Chinese popular music. Thus, Nimrod’s examination of Chinese popular musical culture unveils the degree of acceptance of, or resistance against, state ideology expressed by the new musical trends of China after 1978. One of his very interesting conclusions is that, among the confronted forces reflected by popular music, the government and protesters actually shared many common notions in their ideology.

And no matter whether against each other or negotiating with each other, they are always tied together.

While Nimrod focuses on popular music, Andrew F. Jones dedicates another book to the subject of rock music.34 These two studies investigate music and the mass media in the period from 1978 to the 1990s, when China was facing a turning point in a blurred future. Jazz was a forgotten part in this ambiguous period of modernization, for its practitioners and listeners were still too few to be noticed. At present, with the growing scale of the jazz community in China, this genre deserves more serious study, digging out the facets of China reflected from it.

33 Ibid, 3. 34 Andrew F. Jones, Like a Knife: Ideology and Genre in Contemporary Chinese Popular Music (Ithaca, New York: Cornell University Press 1992).

Because there remains a lack of serious academic work on contemporary jazz development in Beijing, for this thesis I had to rely on many articles and reports from journals and magazines. Terence Heish, an excellent trombone player active in Beijing, has long cooperated with East Shore Jazz Cafe, and a deep friendship with the prominent jazz players there. He not only attends concerts frequently, but also serves as a reporter for the movement of Beijing jazz on the internet. He posts articles and videos on web-based journals, anthologies, and defends Beijing musicians against negative comments left by the readers. His bachelor’s thesis, “Jazz Meet East,” is based on the development of jazz in China, and provides many valuable interviews with the musicians. His writing subjects range from jazz, rock, hip-hop and film to politics, revealing the daily lives of young urban people and their ever-changing culture.

There remains one question for this thesis, why giving such importance to postmodernism in a study of jazz in China? In his Classical Music and Postmodern

Knowledge, Lawrence Kramer argues that post-modernism is a rediscovery of history, in order to solve the problems when it needs the knowledges beyond the contemporary academic level. He maintains his point of view by stressing that the new phenomenon appeared in post-modern societies and that academic trends weren’t really new, but

“more like a renewal of something lost or forgotten.”35 For the study of post-modern

35 Lawrence Kramer, Classical Music and Postmodern Knowledge (Oakland, CA: University of California Press, 1995), 1.

24 knowledge, Kramer stresses the importance of contextualized studies on music, stating that the objective of contemporary musicology is to seek the “concrete, complex and historically situated” meaning of music. This meaning presents the semantic capacities of music, rather than an authorized exposition of a musical vocabulary. And the approach to this meaning lies “in the conceptual and rhetorical world of postmodernism.”36 However, Kramer doesn’t extend his contextualized study into jazz.

And the current situation of jazz in China, although a valuable case for the music in the post-modern civilian life, has become the forgotten land for scholars.

Theory and Methodology

This thesis explores a social setting of post-modernism through jazz in Beijing.

Such an objective defines the multi-disciplinary nature of its methodology, which embraces various paradigms from the fields of history, sociology, ethnography, and ethnomusicology. Theories drawn from these paradigms are applied for both the design and proceeding of the research, as well as for the interpretation of gathered information.

For the development of this project, I am mindful that theory is a guide to practice, and that no study can be effectively conducted without an underlying theory or model.37

Thus, theory is a crucial component here, through which this thesis is able to

36 Ibid, 1-3. 37 David M. Fetterman, Ethnomusicology Step-by-Step, 3rd ed. (Los Angeles: Sage Publications, 2010), 5.

25 corroborate its arguments with evidence. Moreover, theory also provides the framework guiding the investigation of the various findings and descriptions of jazz, popular music, the history of China in general and of Beijing in particular. Access to wide-ranged resources required not only a comprehensive means, but also a consistent theoretical frame to coordinate the collection of information with appropriate disciplines.

With all of the necessities of an inter-disciplinary approach, the facts this thesis relies on have posed a great challenge to its methodology. How does one fit the miscellany of facts and theories into ordered frames for exploring the history of a live music genre? And how does one organize facts that are scattered in divergent sources related to Beijing jazz into a reliable story? These kinds of questions, on how to actually implement a multi-disciplinary approach into studies, are repeatedly discussed in the literature of ethnomusicology, for which individual researcher solutions are presented within their works. This project attempts to join in the discussion of the ethnomusicological paradigm with one of the interpretations for the practice of a multi- disciplinary approach.

First of all, a contextualized study was needed throughout this project. During the preparation of this project, it was crucial to explore the surroundings of the topic, including the historical background of the field, and the theoretical background of issues related to the field. For example, I found identity was the most important

26 keyword for understanding how jazz musicians identify themselves. In this thesis, the study of identity could not be limited to jazz musicians, but also involved musicians in other genres, and non-musicians. The identities of musicians peripheral to the jazz community provided references for outlining the distinctiveness of identities for jazz musicians. Besides, a contextualized study of identity helps to understand how certain groups of people perceive music based on their social roles, and what pronouns they use for labeling jazz, based on this conceptualization. To achieve this, the study of jazz musicians’ identities needed to be linked with perceptions of jazz from both inside and outside of the jazz community. Exploring the relationship between identity issues and the perception of musical genres supplied the foundations for arguments about the uniqueness of Beijing’s jazz scene, thus the key for exploring China’s post-modernity through the popularity of jazz in Beijing.

As a theoretical background worth mentioning, while identity studies around jazz music focus more on race related issues in the United States,38 the study of jazz in

Beijing should concentrate on the historical influence in the recognition of entertainment music and musicians. This is because, in China, historical problems, rather than racial discrimination, are more obviously expressed. The terms “minority group” and “sub-culture,” in America have connotations of marginalization by a

38 Ruth M. Stone, Theory for Ethnomusicology (New Jersey: Prentice Hall 2008), 159.

27 mainstream white culture, but in China these terms merely explain a proportion of a group in comparison to the total population, and physical location, especially for minority ethnic groups living on the border areas. However, the racial identity through

American jazz conveys its message as the struggle for civil rights is equivalent in China to the struggle against discrimination regarding occupational guilds. This kind of discrimination, shaped by Chinese history, branded musicians in the past as one of the lowest of nine ranks in society.39 This comparative example shows one of the features of the Chinese jazz scene, which assigns the contextualized study in this project to coordinate research into a socio-historical background with the consultation of theoretical context. By this assignment, the researcher also obtains an opportunity to synthesize theories from different disciplines into organized frameworks.

The contextualized study during the fieldwork is embodied by the application of reference group theory, which was borrowed from the sociology paradigm. This theory, articulated by Robert K. Merton in Social Theory and Social Structure, originated from the study of the attitudes of various groups of American soldiers towards different issues, like income and assignments, based on their ranks. 40 Three strategies, which comprise my frame of fieldwork, obtain from this theory, including juxtaposing the attitudes towards the same subjects from various groups; inquiring into the attitude of

39 Musicians, especially players in the entertainment venues were considered one of the outcast groups by the ancient Chinese society. 40 Robert K. Merton, Social Theory and Social Structure (New York: Free Press, 1968), 279-439

28 individuals towards their own positions in and out of groups; and consulting the definition of individuals concerning the membership and non-membership of certain groups they are in or out of. Thus, I will apply this theory for a contextualized investigation of the attitudes of various sub-cultural groups towards jazz. In this process, a vast number of interviews were transcribed and analyzed, and the observation and recording of concerts used for teasing out what are the meanings of jazz in Beijing through the behaviors of musicians and the audiences.

According to reference group theory, individual attitudes should be interpreted in terms of respective social positions.41 That is to say, there are two procedures necessary for obtaining this objective: sampling and contextualized study of the interviews. Samples, or the interviewees, should be chosen from various categories related and isolated from jazz in Beijing, which are defined by the theory as reference groups. A survey of these groups should not be limited to attitudes individuals have toward jazz; it should also collect information about how members of a certain group view membership and non-membership of jazz groups. I planned to categorize the intended interviewees into three reference groups with eight sub-sets under these three main groups: 1) a musician group with its sub-sets of jazz musicians, including,

Western Classical musicians and Traditional Chinese musicians; 2) a jazz audience

41 Ibid.

29 group with its sub-sets of audiences who were born before the 1980s and audiences born after; and 3) a non-jazz public including Pop audiences, Western Classical audiences and traditional arts audiences.

These categories are indexed by various principles: occupation, for musician group, age, for the jazz audience group, and interests, for the non-jazz audience group.

This classification falls into the frame of reference group theory, which aims at exploring the degree to which social positions of individuals shape their attitudes towards various elements of the world. In terms of my project, the index for musicians shows their occupations were more inclined to influence their attitudes toward certain musical genres. The categories for Chinese audiences, jazz and non-jazz ones, reveal that their experience from the society would influence their interests. To be specific, jazz audiences’ attitudes toward music are more comparable by age, since their interests have already gone toward into jazz. The study on non-jazz audiences should then be more focused on their experiences in joining in on activities of other genres.

The interpretation of these attitudes, drawn from the interviews and observations, ought also to be based on reference group theory. And these interpretations are key in discovering identities of jazz musicians in Beijing through attitudes from various groups, connected or disconnected with jazz. Thus, reference group theory constitutes a practical approach for conducting an identity study within a society with intricate links among all categories of sub-groups. From the analysis of

30 fieldworks based on reference group theory, the study of identities on jazz musicians projected by the complicated social context of post-modern China can be systematically conducted.

As chaotic as what it refers to, the meaning of the term post-modernism varies according to the perspective one uses to examine it. David Lyon describes postmodernism as a perspective coming after an experience of crisis, which forces people to look for a solution from the past.42 Thus, another theoretical frame guiding such a study of China’s post-modern trend is borrowed from a historical approach, which surveys into different periods, exploring the contrasts and similarities of social histories. For this project, I will contrast the fate of jazz in the China’s early modernization with the present Beijing jazz scene, unveiling the influence of history towards the perception of jazz in China, and the impact of post-modernism in the civilian life of Beijing.

Zizhi (资治, assisting governing) and tongjian (通鉴, mirror and lessons) form two dogmas of traditional historical study in China, since the publishing of the monograph of Sima Guang (司马光, 1019-1086 AD), Zizhi Tongjian in 1084. Due to their necessary functions for ruling, these two dogmas maintained the fund and, to some degree, ensured the quality of historical study in ancient China. But they also narrowed

42 David Lyon, Postmodernity (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1994), 72.

31 the scope and alternative perspectives of such research. By the nineteenth century, early

Chinese modernization helped to dig further into dusted corners of traditional historical study. Since the 1920s, researchers have convened in newly built academies to conduct institutionalized studies of the music sub-traditions. These studies seldom overcome the gravity of telos conceived in the mission of “cultural modernization.”

Often discriminated against or neglected in the past, a music sub-tradition unfolded when China encountered jazz again in 1980s’ Beijing. Opening with the change of tone in evaluating music at that moment, Part II brings discussions of jazz’s new fate in China. The dominant ideology, or musical morality, declined in music criticism. Consequently, this country fell into an ideological crisis, which caused a tide of redefining past concepts. The false dilemma of “East or West,” fomented during the early modernization era, developed again in the 1980s. Under this cloud, a group of young musicians from traditional musical communities embraced a combination of hipster and hippie cultures imported along with rock and jazz. And this combination, interpreted from a complex of traditional, communist, and individual lenses, shaped a unique nightlife culture in the embassy district of Beijing.

From its status as moral taboo to its infusion into the social life of Beijing, jazz has traveled a great distance. The local musician community’s enthusiastic reception of the music demonstrates the enormous changes in Chinese society since the 1980s. In this change, the dominance of musical morality has declined, and many neglected values of

32 traditional society were reviewed and adopted in forming new and more individualized concepts.

Traditional society, as Émile Durkheim put it, might be viewed as the basis of mechanical solidarity. In delineating repressive law, Durkheim’s primary feature of mechanical solidarity in society, he noted the monotonous penal results from various acts termed as criminal.43 He also cites moral and religious taboos, and remarked, “there are a whole host of acts, which have been, and still are, regarded as criminal, without in themselves to be harmful to the society.”44 The music taboos, for example, mimi zhiyin, within the moral codes of traditional Chinese society, fits Durkheim’s description perfectly; in fact, monotonous punishment was also a feature of the ancient Chinese legal system. Seemingly, the traditional Chinese society is covered by Durkheim’s mechanical solidarity.

In questing for the root of repressive law in mechanical solidarity, Durkheim addresses punishment in traditional societies as “the expression of the most essential social similarities”45 in suppressing the deviants. In reflection on Durkheim, James

Farganis compares mechanical solidarity with organic solidarity, listing the essential distinctions between these two types of social integration.46 In mechanical solidarity, the

43 Émile Durkheim, The Division of Labor in Society (New York: The Free Press 1984), 31. 44 Ibid, 32. 45 Farganis, Readings in social Theory, 60. 46 Ibid, 56-57.

33 division of labor is less specified and the roles of members remain similar to each other.

Competition is thus fierce and cohesion of the society is based on similarity. In organic solidarity, the model of modern society, the division of the social roles is highly specified and the competition is diluted by the inter-dependence of the members.

Instead of the repressive law of the traditional society, organic solidarity has a more flexible legal system in which compensation and the safety of society are the primary concerns of the law.47

However, if analyzing ancient Chinese society, Durkheim’s theory might be too generalizing and simplifying. Although agricultural communities, formed in the vast rural area of ancient China, possessed features similar to mechanical solidarity, divisions of labor had been highly specified in urban area and sections of transportation infrastructure, i.e., areas with canals and the yi dao (驿道, ancient highway). These divisions were formed through the needs of the economic needs of the entire society.

Even when a repressive law tried to reduce it, the complexity of the labor structure still existed as outlaw, or in sub-societies. For instance, the deluge of pirate prints of calendars in the Tang Dynasty (discussed in Chapter 1) reflects how insufficient publication caused the market demand to be fulfilled by illicit means.

The emergence of mafias along the canal between Beijing and Hangzhou (杭州),

47 Ibid, 57.

34 is another example of how demand derived from the transportation of salt remained unsatisfied by repressive law, and outlaw means were sought for fulfillment of it. These mafias later became substantial rulers of the local sub-society and entertainment business in colonial Shanghai, soon after the integration of the Chinese town and the international settlement (discussed in Chapter 2). If complexity of the labor division in old China had not existed, how could the local sub-society in colonial Shanghai prepare for its immediate prosperity, just after its release into the overlapping margins of both

Chinese and colonial law?

Even inside the bureaucratic institutions, with their rigid penal systems ranging from beatings to horrifying torture, as manifested in the law, compensations (bribes for the crimes) existed and were notoriously conventionalized by corruption. Anti- corruption reforms were implemented again and again by the emperors; however, exemptions or mitigations of unnecessary punishments of minor crimes were un- proportionally rare. Thus, repressive law in China was less a result of labor division than shaped by the way society was perceived by central powers. In other words, social needs were not recognized enough by social theories of the ruling classes. And the sub- traditions, formed beyond the boundaries of manifest traditions, comprised all kinds of

“awkward” remedies derived from the “excessively” complicated social reality traditional Chinese governments had faced.

So how could the “simple mind” of rulers cope with thousands of years of

Chinese history without learning from the social past? Hierarchy is the answer. Starting from the Han Dynasty, the establishment of Confucian dominance gradually shaped a social hierarchy among civilians, based on their occupation. Merchants, due to their economic power, posed a threat to the ruling class; thus held the bottom rung of the occupational hierarchy. Musicians in the commercial world comprised mainly war captives or from incriminated families. Imprinted with the label as once being anti- authority, their social status fell to the same category as merchants, slaves, and prostitutes. As a means to reinforce the hierarchy as it faced substantial financial power of merchants, and outsized reputations of musicians from their talent, morality was imposed.

In traditional Chinese society, competition was fierce in the society of civilian intellectuals, for whom the only reward was to be recognize by the emperor. This one- dimensional competition and rewarding system began in the Sui Dynasty (581—618

AD) with the inception of keju (科举, “imperial examination”). Keju had a profound impact in Chinese culture, as discussed in Chapter 4. With the initial aim of breaking the monopoly of aristocrats within the bureaucracy, keju precipitated the only official standard—literary proficiency, for evaluating talent. The importance of literature in

Chinese culture had been enhance, along with the perpetuation of this examination system; its impact is still seen in the modern language, for example, the world

“civilization” in Chinese is wen ming (文明), where wen (文) means literature. Culture is

36 translated as wen hua (文化), and intellectuals are called literati, wen ren (文人) in

Chinese.

Furthermore, the primary function of keju was for emperors directly selecting young officers, and due to its significance in the ancient Chinese society, keju helped the interests of emperors to shape the paramount concerns of intellectuals in ancient China.

Maintaining the hierarchy was the core of the emperors’ interests. Thus, morality, as the most efficient tool for the maintaining hierarchy, became the enduring theme adopted by the civilian intellectuals in their literary works. Additionally, a selective transmission centered on power interest and morality was instituted by the official collection of repertoires, which tied literature with politics, and formed the manifest tradition of

Chinese literature.

Into early modern times, intellectuals inherited their sense of morality from traditional literature. Yellow music, as an expression of mimi zhiyin and a product from the resistance to colonial modernization, was ironically disguised in a Westernized phrase. David Moser stresses the problem of Chinese literature in modernization in his linguistic study, A Billion Voices.

It is not an exaggeration to say that China’s once-great literary and linguistic tradition had in modern times become an albatross around its neck, and it is to their credit that the May Fourth Movement’s key figures recognized this problem and focused their intellectual energies on it.48

48 Moser, David. A Billion Voices: China's Search for a Common Language, kindle edition (Penguin

However, this albatross later brought opportunities to China, in looking at things from “alternative” perspectives. Officially, Chinese literature sustained the interests of powers and morality in a selective transmission. But this does not mean that the sub- traditions were not recorded at all. They are abundant in unofficial written documents.

In diaries, notes, poems, dramas and novels, rich and divergent social lives were recorded in a distinctive tone from main stream literatures. Competition and norms of various sub-groups of traditional society became entangled, but still discernable from the manifest traditions. In peaceful times, those records were disinterred again and again by literati. But war and political upheavals had always brought the morality to front, submerging the richness and inclusiveness of Chinese traditions recorded in literary heritage into the abyss of ignorance. Yellow music also emerged in the confrontation between China and colonialism, which elevated morality within a crisis, overshadowing all other values.

The establishment of Chinese conservatoires during modernization perpetuated traditional music. However, aiming at sustaining its heritage, traditional music became more modernized and “mechanical”—individual styles are gradually substituted by authorized interpretations in institutionalized training. This is because in modern institutions a selective transmission, like in literature, imposed an official ideal of

Books 2016), 331-333.

38 traditional music. Many aesthetic values of the traditional communities were lost in this official transmission, like improvisation and the intimacy with social life.

Discussion of music and society in China’s modernization is abundant in both the Chinese and the U.S. academic world (for example, the Chinese publications, Fifty

Years of Beijing Quju, 2002, by Cui Xiaojin and Cui Changwu and The History of Music in

Modern China, 2009 by Wang Yuhe; or English publications like Jones’ Yellow Music

2001), which requires a thorough investigation into secondary resources. I focused on library resources on Chinese music from the 1920s to the present day, and sorted collected information into three categories, from the 1920s to 1937, from 1937 to 1978, and from 1978 to now. These categories were indexed based on the chronology of jazz in China: 1) the first period from 1920s to 1937, when jazz first landed in China in the

1920s (in old Shanghai specifically), until the withdrawal of American jazz players from

China with the annexation of the Japanese army in 1937; 2) the second category is indexed from 1937 and 1978, during a vacuum period of jazz for political and historical reasons, and when jazz gained its negative perception as “yellow music” without actual attendance in Mainland China; 3) the last period begins when jazz started its expansion after China’s opening policy in 1978, and its development in Beijing, which shows increasing hints of China’s post-modernity. This latter period is the primary focus of this thesis.

The trend of China’s post-modernity is embodied by Beijing jazz through a cloud of narratives around jazz, and the identity of jazz musicians. By a cloud of narratives, I mean a new way individuals in the postmodern era interpret concepts based on their own ideologies and resources, instead of resorting to an ultimate explanation from the authorities. This individualization of concepts results from unearthing forgotten arguments from multiple time periods and marginalized perspectives from all corners of the world.49 This re-discovery of the past and of marginal viewpoints places conflicting ideologies on the same platform, without a single authority who is qualified to give judgement. This new way of thinking also gradually replaces the meta-narrative of modernism with “a cloud of narratives language elements.”50 And this replacement is achieved under the motives of de-centralization and secularization.51

By the 1980s, jazz was denounced by a dominant perception as “yellow music,” since it first encountered China. Whereas for the majority of the Chinese population this negative opinion prevailed, jazz was considered by a limited size of the population as something positive, composed of Westernized elites, popular music composers, and foreign musicians in old Shanghai. Those positive recognitions were drowned out by

49 Anthony Giddens, “Living in a Post-Traditional Society” in Reflexive Modernization: Politics, Tradition and Aesthetics in the Modern Social Order, Ulrich Beck, Anthony Giddens and Scott Lash eds. (Stanford: Stanford University Press: 1994), 57. 50 Jean-François Lyotard, The Postmodern Condition: A Report on Knowledge, Geoff Bennington and Brian Massumi trans., (Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press, 1984), xxiv. 51 Ibid, 424

40 the Cold War, when anti-capitalist ideology amplified the devaluation of jazz. Thus, the term yellow music lived through China’s modernizing past. After the 1980s, while post- modern trend emerged in this country, any predominant denouncement on music was de-legitimatized as it faded out gradually, and forgotten positive attributes were covered by the multi-narrations of jazz. Currently, diverse sub-culture groups are the entities that show the recognition of jazz in Beijing. It is this de-legitimization of the old perception and the rise of diversity and multi-polarization that links the popularity of jazz with China’s post-modern trend.

PART I RECONCEPTUALIZING YELLOW MUSIC

Figure 1. Guiseppe Castilione, Qianlong Dayue Tu (乾隆大阅图 1839) from the Palace Museum Collection. Emperor Qianlong of Qing Dynasty is in his exclusive yellow military suite, preparing to oversee a parade.

Figure 2 One issue of the Yellow Kids on March 7, 1897, New York JournalFigure 3. Guiseppe Castilione, Qianlong Dayue Tu (乾隆大阅图 1839) from the Palace Museum Collection. Emperor Qianlong of Qing Dynasty is in his exclusive yellow military suite, preparing to oversee a parade. 42

Around 3 to 5 am, in the darkness, all troops were assembled by their commanders in front of the gate of Chen Qiao Yam. The crowd declared that they were preparing a military parade to salute their new emperor.… Later in the dawn, the army looming toward the billet, where Zhao Kuangyin was still sleeping.… Before Zhao Kuangyin could answer a word, someone had put on him a yellow gown in his unawareness. Meanwhile, the crowd kneeled down suddenly in front of him and worshiped him as their new emperor. — “Biography for the Funding Emperor,” From The History of Song Dynasty52

Before nineteenth-century colonial expansion of the West reached East Asia, yellow was view as a sacred color for Empire of China. Often reserved for emperors and queens, this color was a symbol of the top of the hierarchy in ancient Chinese society; civilians might be charged for conspiring usurpation if they wore yellow without authorization. In present day China, yellow maintains positive meanings in certain contexts, such as in the name of the legendary king, Huang Di (黄帝, translated as

“Yellow Emperor”), who is considered the ancestor of the Han people. However, 100 years after the Opium Wars,53 yellow began a journey of disgrace, and finally reached the land of taboo in the vocabulary of contemporary Chinese. More than four decades in Mainland China since 1945, yellow music (黄色音乐), referred to obscene or immoral music, not only the accusatory for jazz, but also the term for a broad category of

52 Translated by author from an excerpt of the History of Song. The event (960) recorded above is called The Coup in Chen Qiao (陈桥兵变), which is considered as the starting of Song Dynasty (960-1127). This coup transformed the power from the royal family of Hou Zhou (951-960) to Zhao Kuangyin (赵匡胤), the first emperor of Song. An act in this coup is called Huangpao Jiashen (黄袍加身), means forced dressing in a yellow gown, which signifies the meaning of dressing in yellow as coronation. 53 Two Opium Wars occurred in 1840 and in 1842, and the First Opium War is traditionally considered as the beginning of China’s enmeshment in global colonialism.

43 condemned music.

Although it might seem surprising to English speakers, yellow’s implication as obscene came after the importation of the American phrase yellow journalism in the twentieth century. Ironically, the use of yellow music reached a peak during the Cold

War, as a denouncement of capitalist culture. These facts, scattered along the way to

Chinese modernization, reflect a multi-faced history of meanings. Catalyzed and molded by colonial modernization, the particular flow of yellow music hints at a shift in the way powers were shaped in contests with each other. A new global order, formed out of war and trade, landed abruptly into China’s historical process. This new order infiltrated as a colonial impact into Chinese cultural concepts and evolment, but was also confused by the chaotic circumstance carved out of the collision between the new and the old, the West and the East. The falling of the color yellow, from the altar of an ancient empire to a taboo in the new moral standards of modern China, alludes to how the heritage of an ancient language was distorted by colonialism. Meanwhile, this distorted language, disguised as modernized, perpetuated an ancient moral code in resisting the colonial order.

Chapter One: Yellow Journalism

1.1. Product of U.S.A.

The lurid descriptions of the untimely demise of a bathhouse masseur that appeared in the New York Journal pushed the limits of both credibility and social acceptability in those times. In a stroke of opportunism, the Yellow Press had been born.54

Yellow journalism as a negative term was used for criticizing misinformation and sensationalism of news reports published in newspapers in New York City papers in the late nineteenth century. The term was coined in 1896 by Ervin Wardman, and was published for the first time in January 1897 in the New York Press.55 At the beginning, it especially referred to journal content included in the competition between

Joseph Pulitzer (1847—1911), the editor of New York World, and William Randolph

Hearst (1863—1951), the owner of the New York Journal. Yellow was taken from their shared cartoon series, the “Yellow Kids,” in which a bald kid dressed in yellow was continually used slang and the cartoonist intentionally misspelled words, to hint at the satire and the dubious nature of these kinds of publications. Besides this, misinformation, plagiarism, slurring, and the agitation for hatred featured as the extreme of self-interest of these publications, and thoroughly exhibited in a bold and malicious competition for the sole pursuit of profit. These features formed the model of

54 David R. Spencer, The Yellow Journalism: The Press and the America’s Emergence as a World Power (Illinois: Evanston, 2007), 1. 55 W. Joseph Campbell, Yellow Journalism: Puncturing the Myths, Defining the Legacies (Westport, CT: Praeger Publishers, 2001), 25-26.

45 yellow journalism, which became the target of criticism for a later journalism ethic. The term yellow journalism was soon also amplified as a label for all media products alike.

Figure 4 One issue of the Yellow Kids on March 7, 1897, New York Journal. https://cartoons.osu.edu/digital_albums/yellowkid/1897/1897.htm (accessed July 8, 2017).

Characterized with the abundance of misinformation, yellow journalism has in Figure 5 Barrit Leon, “The Big Type War of the Yellow Kids,Figure 6 One issue of the Yellow Kids on March 7, 1897, recentNew York history Journal. often https://cartoons.osu.edu/digital_albums/yellowkid/1897/1897.htm used as a synonym of fake news. Historian Robert Darnton (accessed July 8, 2017). analogues various cases of fake news throughout the Western history in his article “The

True History of Fake News.”

In the long history of misinformation, the current outbreak of fake news has already secured a special place, with the president’s personal adviser, Kellyanne

Conway, going so far as to invent a Kentucky massacre in order to defend a ban on travelers from seven Muslim countries. But the concoction of alternative facts is hardly rare, and the equivalent of today’s poisonous, bite-size texts and tweets can be found in most periods of history, going back to the ancients.56

Opening with Kellyanne Conway’s “alternative facts” issue, Darnton gives his insight into the nature of fake news by zooming into eighteenth-century France. His study on the circulation of canard, a type of fake news, underlines the impacts of misinformation on politics in pre-Revolutionary France. By juxtaposing canard with various types of fake news appearing earlier, like the Byzantine Anecdota, pasquinade in the time of the Medici, the contemporary British “Paragraph men” and the later

“Kentucky Massacre” in United States, Darnton reveals a phenomenon that the boost of fake news had always overlapped in time with the alternation of powers. He goes further to warn of the neglect of rumoring and treachery abundant on social media, which also serve the often-over-glorified triumphs of some powers against others.57

Among all types of misinformation, yellow journalism is unique. This uniqueness is from the special eco-political circumstance of the Gilded Age, which gave this term the color gold. Depicted in the novel co-authored by Mark Twain (1835-1910) and Charles Dudley Warner (1829-1900), The Gilded Age: A Tale of Today (1873),

American society in the late ninetieth century was characterized in a zealous pursuit of

56 Robert Darnton, “The True History of Fake News,” NYR Daily, February 13, 2017, accessed March 30, 2017, http://www.nybooks.com/daily/2017/02/13/the-true-history-of-fake-news/. 57 Ibid.

47 money. During the Gilded Age, as Mark Twain depicted in his stories, all norms faded in front of the desire for fortune. Credibility of information declined in concerns when facing the persuasive speculators. As a prelude for the Progressive Era (1900-1919), this period heralded this nation’s stepping into “a full-blown modern, urban, industrial, multiethnic world power.”58

According to Encyclopedia of the Gilded Age and Progressive Era, the new features of the United States in the turn of the nineteenth and twentieth century resulted in profound changes of the social structure.59 Featured as the altering relationships between individuals and industries, components of the new society functioned in a modern way. As these changes undermined the values and aims of the traditional

American society, the needs of urbanization and industrialization brought forth a multiethnic base for the further development of modern America. With the “rapid and drastic reconfiguration of the socioeconomic order,”60 the function of mass media underwent a fundamental shift in the end of the nineteenth century. A new type of journalism was born in the aggravated competition of newsmen striving to become the oligarchs of the news industry.

Meanwhile, the journalism ethic sprouted in the eve of the Progressive Era.

58 John D. Buenker, Joseph Buenker eds, Encyclopedia of the Gilded Age and the Progressive Era (Armonk, NY: Sharpe Reference 2013), 19. 59 Ibid. 60 Ibid, 20.

Coined in 1896, the term yellow journalism showed from inside of the journalism industry the intolerance and denouncement of those it signified. On June 29, 1898, 45- year old cartoonist, Leon Barritt published his painting “The Big Type War of the

Yellow Kids,” in which, two men are depicted in the costume of Yellow Kid. The miss- spelled words on the shirt of “Pulitzer” mock the German accent of Joseph Pulitzer.

Obviously, the other, “me name is Hearst,” mocks William Randolph Hearst. This painting provides evidence of advent of the new journalism ethics.

Figure 7 Barrit Leon, “The Big Type War of the Yellow Kids,” accessed through Library of Congress: https://www.loc.gov/resource/ppmsc.02832/.

Figure 8. Harlem Gentlemen in CanidromeFigure 9 Barrit Leon, “The Big Type War of the Yellow Kids,” accessed

through Library of Congress: https://www.loc.gov/resource/ppmsc.02832/.

In the first two decades of the twentieth century, yellow journalism gradually faded from main stream news, as the academic involvement in the news industries increased. The rise of wire services and news syndicates transformed the news reports in a more “straightforward and objective” style.61 Journal schools were built in universities,62 and the research covering American press history (much of it funded by the Pulitzer Prize) often targeted the farce of yellow journalism. This helped to build a boundary between serious and spurious reports in the media, although this boundary is sometimes blurred, especially during peaks of power contests.

In warning the negative impact of yellow journalism on public opinion, the

Spanish-American War is often mentioned by researchers. Whether yellow journalism led to the Spanish-American War remains in debate. Conventionally, the mysterious sinking of USS Maine in February, 1898, is considered the most direct cause of the war, and the premise for the happenstance of its historical course. Continuous revolts at that time in Cuba exacerbated the economic crisis in United States. While the McKinley administration was balancing the cost and the necessity of war, exaggerated reports of yellow journalism and the explosion of the USS Maine proved the last straw for “public

61 Joseph Patrick McKerns, “The History of American Journalism: A Bibliographical Essay,” American Studies International 15, No. 1 (Autumn, 1976): p. 28, accessed January 12, 2016. http://www.jstor.org/stable/41278521. 62 David H. Weaver and Maxwell E. McCombs, “Journalism and Social Science: a New Relationship?” The Public Opinion Quarterly 44 No. 4 (Winter 1980): p. 480.

50 opinion” to foment the declaration of war.

Joseph Patrick McKerns’s survey of American journal history argues against this conventional view. He points out that the limited audience of newspaper circulation restrained its influence on the public opinion at a national level.63 Louis A. Pérez goes further to deflate the delusion of how public opinion was influenced by misinformation and finally yielded the casus belli—the reason, justification, or excuse for war. His study in the significance of the USS Maine’s explosion in Puerto de la Havana suggests that the ultimate responsibility of the war should be attributed to policymakers who made use of the media to conceal the true economic and partisan interests under a reverie of public outrage.64 This argument debunks the supposed electorate, or the democratic procedure that had undergone a substantial dictate by the power politics in 1898.

Hence, power, another impulse behind yellow journalism besides money, was revealed.

The disputes around 2016 United States presidential election elevated the issue of fake news onto an ever-serious gaze. While both the Republicans and the Democratic accusing each other for fabricating fake news, the old term, yellow journalism, caught the attention of the public again. Facebook, one of the biggest targets for the complains,

63 McKerns, “The History of American Journalism: A Bibliographical Essay,” 28. 64 Louis A. Pérez, “The Meaning of the Maine: Causation and the Historiography of the Spanish- American War” Pacific Historical Review 58 No. 3 (August 1989): pp. 293—322.

51 was obliged to develop strategies for filtering the contents.65 Concluded by Nicky

Woolf, three solutions pitched most frequently among the experts: “hiring a human editor; crowdsourcing; and technological or algorithmic.”66 Featuring on technology,

Facebook tends to deem that an algorithm could be less biased and more efficient than any person for this task. Algorithm in general is a series of instructions for solving a problem in a finite number of steps. In its application on the internet, an algorithm would be programed to be performed on the binary codes of every webpage, to filter and define the types of information. In August 26, 2016, Facebook announced to

“eliminate jobs in its trending module, the parts of its news division where staff curated popular news for Facebook users;” instead, an algorithm is applied for the selection and filtering task.67

Surely, an algorithm is far more efficient in dealing with overwhelming amounts of data than any team of workers. However, can a program substitute humankind in

65 Mike Snider, “Facebook Takes a New Crack at Halting Fake News and Clickbait,” USA Today, May 17, 2017. Accessed July 1, 2017, https://www.usatoday.com/story/tech/news/2017/05/17/facebook- fine-tuning-its-filters-clickbait-and-fake-news/101784448/. Amid Chowdhry, “Facebook Launches a New Tool that Combats Fake News,” Forbes March 5, 2017, accessed July 1, 2017, https://www.forbes.com/sites/amitchowdhry/2017/03/05/facebook-fake-news- tool/#1dcd84877ec1. 66 Nicky Woolf, “How to Solve Facebook’s Fake News Problems: Experts Pitch Their Ideas,” The Guardian (Tuesday, November 29, 2016) accessed June 27, 2017 https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2016/nov/29/facebook-fake-news-problem-experts-pitch-ideas- algorithms. 67 Sam Thielman, “Facebook Fires Trending Wi, and Algorithm without Humans Goes Crazy,” The Guardian (August 29, 2016) accessed June 27, 2017, https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2016/aug/29/facebook-fires-trending-topics-team-algorithm.

52 deciding what kind of news are true, and which are faked? Or, can technology overcome subjectivity? In September 8, 2016, Espen Egil Hansen, the Chief editor of

Aftenposten, the largest Norwegian newspaper, published an open letter to Mark

Zuckerberg, expressing his outraged after a historical photo was removed by Facebook, for its displaying nudity.68 The deleted photo was The Terror of War, taken by Nick Ut, which depicts five children running away from bombarding during Vietnam War.69

This photo won the 1973 Pulitzer Price, which was stressed by Espen Egil Hansen as a proof that Facebook cannot distinguish pornography from photos with great news value. Meanwhile, Hansen accused the CEO of Facebook for censorship.70

This circumstance evokes a debate on the interpretation of “freedom of speech” and ethic of journalism. Before a conclusion could be drew, a few questions have to be answered: At what degree yellow journalism has influenced American society in terms of politics? What is the reason behind it? Could there be an ultimate standard for the value of information? What are the standards implemented now and by whom? From the case of the yellow journalism in the late nineteenth century, misinformation is rather

68 Espen Egil Hansen, “Dear Mark. I am Writing This to Inform You That I Shall Not Comply with Your Requirement to Remove This Picture.” Aftenposten (September 8, 2016) accessed July 1, 2017 https://www.aftenposten.no/meninger/kommentar/Dear-Mark-I-am-writing-this-to-inform-you-that-I- shall-not-comply-with-your-requirement-to-remove-this-picture-604156b.html. 69 Link to The Terror of War, photographed by Nick Ut, accessed July 1, 2017 http://100photos.time.com/photos/nick-ut-terror-war. 70 Julia Carrie Wong, “Mark Zuckerberg Accused of Abusing Power After Facebook Deletes ‘Napalm Girl’ Post,” The Guardian, February 13, 2017, accessed July 1, 2017. https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2016/sep/08/facebook-mark-zuckerberg-napalm-girl-photo- vietnam-war.

53 than a cause of social events, but a tool for the justification of political aims. It is a reflect of the threaten of democracy, rather than itself the threaten. The reason behind the flourish of yellow journalism was more eco-political than ideological. Especially concerning about the two main characters of this farce, Pulitzer and Hearst were both

Democratic. Even during their fierce competition, the tones of reports in World and

Journal were identical in terms of political stance, instead of contradicting. The breaking out of the Spanish American War best verifies that the public opinion was often guided, rather than spontaneous. And it meets the ultimate ends for profits, rather than justice.

In the case of Facebook “censorship,” a financial reason played a determine role in its implement of the algorithm. Firstly “yet hiring people – especially the number needed to deal with Facebook’s volume of content – is expensive,” pointed out by

Guardian reporter Niky Woolf. 71 According to reporter Sam Thielman’s investigation, the plan of using an algorithm seems long been set off, since the workers who previously worked in the trending module teams were actually hired for developing the algorithm.72 Besides, there are still some editors who remain in the Facebook trending module for implementing algorithm—they will be the ones who make the final decisions, instead of “techno-objectiveness” of algorithm.73 And with the cheap, efficient

71 Woolf, “How to Solve Facebook’s Fake News Problem.” 72 Thielman, “Facebook Fires Trending Team and Algorithm Without Humans Goes Crazy.” 73 Sam Thielman, “Facebook News Selection is in Hands of Editors Not Algorisms Documents Show,” The Guardian, May 12, 2016, accessed July 1, 2017.

54 and obedient algorithm, instead “a collection of biased human workers,” the personal objective of the policy maker could be more conveniently practiced in filtering the results. Long before this issue, various traditional publishers, like The Guardian started targeting on the negative news of Facebook. Events related to the 2016 election and technical censorship evoke oppositions rising from the traditional journalism. Pervasive questionings challenged whether Facebook has the profession to recognize the value of news. And protest constantly emerge against the application of algorithm in substitute of ethic in professional journalists.

Secondly, the income of Facebook relies greatly on advertisements, as disclosed by Mike Snider’s report on USA Today:

Improving the experience for Facebook's nearly 2 billion users is important for the service because it wants users to spend time there. The more time spent on Facebook, the more advertisements users are exposed to and, thus, more revenue for the service.74

Besides of the anguish came out of journalism ethic, reporters from traditional mews industries protests Facebook “censorship” for another reason. The increasing importance of social networks in distribution of news has long been concerned by the traditional news publishers. One statistic published on the website of Pew Research

Center in May 2016 shows that 62% American adults get their news from social

https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2016/may/12/facebook-trending-news-leaked-documents- editor-guidelines. 74 Snider, “Facebook Takes a New Crack at Halting Fake News and Clickbait.”

55 networks, and 66% of Facebook users got news in it.75 During the 2016 Presidential

Election, Facebook gained a roaring increase of profits, with its revenue from advertisement. The brief and entertaining style of news were circulated, attracting the involvement of the users in order to promote its advertisement income.

By denying its role as media but a social network, Facebook could be free from charge of the journalism ethic and copy rights. Whereas the professional news entities endured its reduced income and a decline in the market, meanwhile, having to fulfill the requirements from publication regulations and ethics. An argument targeting on the dubious role of Facebook thus entailed. As a result, Mark Zuckerberg was obliged to accept that Facebook is a media company, but different from the traditional sense of journalism.76

1.2. Sensationalism, Moral Persuasion and Mimi Zhiyin

China also has a long history of misinformation and sensationalism. Before the middle of the eleventh century, the spread of rumors and absurd stories often conveyed by poems, folklores, novels and dramas, gave mostly free access to these resources.

75 Jeffery Gottfried and Elisa Shearer, “News Use Across Social Media Platforms 2016,” Pew Research Center, May 26, 2016, accessed July 1, 2017, http://www.journalism.org/2016/05/26/news-use- across-social-media-platforms-2016/. 76 Samuel Gibbs, “Mark Zukerberg Appears to Finally Admit Facebook is a Media Company,” The Guardian, December 22, 2016, accessed July 1, 2017. https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2016/dec/22/mark-zuckerberg-appears-to- finally-admit-facebook-is-a-media-company.

Ranging from anecdote, love affair, or fairy, to murder, revenge, and witchcraft, this repertoire of “acid” literature reflects the curiosities, norms, struggles, and judgements of the ancient Chinese communities. The spread of politically related rumors and sensationalism, as pointed out by Darnton’s article “The True History of Fake News,” always related to the contests of powers in political upheavals. Politicians used poems and novels to spread the scandals of their enemies; headmen of revolts composed short songs slurring the authorities and recruiting supporters.

Ironically, these sources of misinformation and scandalization would eventually roll into the oral tradition, and produced, along with folklores, the “historical textbook” of rural areas in ancient China. These “textbooks,” learned by ear, finally became the scripts for shaping norms and judgements of Chinese societies. And these norms and judgements rarely followed the connotations of the original scandals, but merely forged the skeleton of the stories into the ever-changing moral standards of the time. Morality was always the theme of the traditional sensationalism that filled the gap between ideology and reality with imagination. This inserted misinformation and exaggeration into the historical studies, which relied considerably on folklores, making “fake news” an intrinsic companion for historical literature.

As early as the West Zhou Dynasty (西周, 1046—771 BC), a belief in the morality of music initiated its enduring establishment. The core of this belief tied music with politics: moral music could assist a moral king to rule a country to gain prosperity; and

57 immoral music would enchant weak-willed kings to erode their power and ruin the nation. As a corollary of power exchange, the music of the former dynasty Shang (商,

1600-1046 BC), especially in the period ruled by the last king Zhòu (纣王) was supposed to possess the quintessential immorality. This premised continued over the successive alternation of dynasties, enriched by sensationalism along with the development of literature. After one millennium, until the end of the first century BC, the immorality of

King Zhòu (纣) of Shang was vividly depicted in Shi Ji (史记, The Scribe’s Record, 91 BC):

Thus [the King] ordered Shi Juan (师涓)77 to compose excessive music, which is the dance of the Shang towns, and the music sounds mimi (靡靡, indulgent) … musical entertainments were held on the “dune” [refers to the palace based on rammed earth], with nude men and women drinking and chasing each other among liquor pool and steak woods. … 78

With more and more discrepancies revealed by archeological finds, the authenticity of this record in presenting the facts of late Shang was questionable. And the judgement suggested by Shi Ji was viewed as corresponding with the moral standards of the Han Dynasty (206 BC-220 AD), rather than those of 1046 BC. Thus, Shi

Ji was probably based on the premise of how a tyrant should be seen in the imagination from the 90s BC: the evidence from fieldworks and assumptions filled in details.

The discrepancy between two important historical documents, Shi Ji and Shang

77 In earlier records like Hanfeizi (韩非子, written in 2nd century BC), the royal musician of the last king of Shang was Shi Yan (师延). Shi Juan was living around 5th century BC. 78 Sima Qian (司马迁), “Chapter 3, Yin Benji (殷本纪, Biographies of Kings in Shang)” Shi Ji (史记) (91 BC).

Shu (尚书, an earlier document), leaves a clue for tracing sensationalism and fabrication in literature over time. In Shang Shu, King Wu of Zhou (周武王) declared a rebellion against Shang, the hegemony in 1046 BC. There were four crimes of King Zhòu denounced by King Wu in his demonstration “Mu Shi” (牧誓, one of the chapters compiled in Shang Shu): taking advice from women (especially refers to Da Ji), downplaying sacrifice in rituals, abandoning his brothers in powerless, and offering administrative positions to prisoners.79 These four crimes were considered by Zhou (周) as evidence that King Zhòu (纣) wanted to devastate his nation and undermine its moral code. Henceforth, his concubine Da Ji (妲己) became one of the most cited examples in Chinese historical literature for proving the guaranteed threat of beautiful women towards politics. Consequently, sexuality became taboo in constructions of social decency.

Meanwhile, the belief in musical morality was established for assisting the initiation of primogeniture. Before King Cheng (成王, son of King Wu) of Zhou (周) succeeded the throne, patriarchy not yet applied to the whole country, and the institute of lineage varied from place to place. In the Shang Dynasty, several matrilineal tribes were important supporters for the central state. The kings of Shang, with much less centralized power than the kings in early Zhou Dynasty, had to respect the convention

79 “Declaration in Mu,” Shangshu, (尚书·牧誓).

59 of linage of supportive sovereigns. Sometimes the king became the husband of several chiefs of matrilineal tribes in a half walking marriage manner, which meant that although formal, the marriage between kings and chiefs could not deprive the maternal line its existing and potential property of queens and their offspring. As a result, although patriarchy remained the principle for the lineage of kings, daughters of kings, especially those born by chiefs of matrilineal societies—had the right to claim heritage. For example, Princess Zi Tuo (子妥, daughter of King Wuding [武丁], around 1250 BC), had her own fief and military troop and submitted taxes to the capital of Shang. When matrilineal tribes existed, especially in the south, rights of inheriting property supported women in participating in politics. This also explains why names of Shang women frequently appeared in military or political events recorded by bronze inscriptions and oracle bones.

Having to survive harsh climates and competition, many northern tribes in late

Shang had a strict tradition of patriarchy. As one of the northern patrilineal tribes famous for military achievements, Zhou (周) gave positions and properties solely to men. During the reign of King Cheng of Zhou (周成王), his uncle Zhou Gong Dan (周公

旦) established a centralized government, and enforced the social principle of Zhou (周) over the whole area of China north of the Yangzi River. Since the old power of Shang remained, and the vast land to the south of the Yangzi River was controlled by Chu (楚, a state lasting until 221 BC), Zhou Gong Dan implemented harsh measures, even war,

60 to push the reform. Moral persuasions and surveillance were practiced, shaping a new unified ideology of primogeniture; religion attained a vigorous following as human sacrifice greatly increased from the amount seen during the last two Shang kings. A new social order was established, with music used for its central rites of coercion.

Regulations like Ba Yi (八佾)80 were enacted as a concrete recognition of hierarchy and taboos in the musical institution called li yue (礼乐, the rite of music). As such, the control over music as a political convention was established in the Zhou Dynasty, and was reinforced throughout the following dynasties of the Empire of China.

In the system of li yue, a policy called cai feng (采风) was carried out as the earliest surveillance system on ideology. In ancient Chinese, cai (采) means “gathering from the field”; feng (风) means “songs.” For this etymology of fieldwork in contemporary Chinese, this policy originally applied to the officials of the Zhou

Dynasty, who compiled the songs of the civilians as an evaluation to show the satisfaction and obedience of the marquises and the people. Crimes like corruption or cruelty of the marquis, or the suppression of possible insurrections, were punished by execution, according to the lyrics. Furthermore, the meaning of feng expended to refer to wind, custom, or styles. The word music, yue (乐), originally referring the sum of

80 Ba Yi, 八佾, literarily means eight lines of bands, refers to the regulation on the scale of musical and dancing band, and the variety of instruments a noble man could have in his court according to his rank in hierarchy. For example, a marquis held a fest with eight lines of bands and use all sorts of instrument was considered as insurgence (僭越).

61 sound, poetry, rituals, and dances, gradually evolved into its more independent term, referring only to the sounds of the ancient art form. This shrinking in meaning of yue, colliding with the expansion of the meaning of feng, moved the belief in the morality of music into a more obscure realm, which left interpretation of the norms to the plausible links between acoustic principles and mysticism (chen wei, 谶纬).

As a taboo in musical morality, the term mimi zhiyin (靡靡之音), meaning indulgent music, appeared first in the chapter “The Ten Faults” of Hanfei Zi (韩非子·十

过). In this chapter, a story concerning three pieces of guqin music disclosed the mysterious moral codes in 3rd century BC. Tnhe story goes that once upon a time,

Marquis Ling of Wei (卫灵公, 540-493 BC) traveled to Jin (晋, one of the feudal states) through River Pu (濮水, located in today Henan Province). He heard a very nice piece of music from the river side, and asked his court musician Shi Juan (师涓) to play it on guqin. When the piece was presented at a reception held by Marquis Ping of Jin (晋平

公), another musician, Shi Kuang (师旷), stopped the music and warned the marquises that this piece music, named Qing Shang (清商), was one of the pieces defined by the dictum “music to perdition (亡国之音),” composed by Shi Yan (师延), the court musician of King Zhòu (纣) of Shang. The other two pieces, even more detrimental, were Qing Zhi (清徵) and Qing Jue (清角). Driven by curiosity, Marquis Ping urged Shi

Kuang to play the other two pieces, when a thunderstorm almost ruined the hall, and

62 three years of drought in Jin.81 Since this story was often mentioned as “Zheng Wei zhiyin (郑卫之音),” or “music among mulberry bushes and River Pu (桑间濮上之音)” or

“music over the river (水上之音),” these three terms became synonymous with the term mimi zhiyin.

A completed expression of musical morality was not established until the West

Han Dynasty (206 BC-25 AD). This establishment was again part of a project initiated during the reign of Emperor Wu (who ruled from 140 to 86 BC), to enhance the reputation of a new hierarchy. In this hierarchy, those with commercially related occupations were considerably repressed, while agriculture and a new religion,

Confucianism, were merged with Taoism and upgraded as of paramount national interest. This new social order evolved through later dynasties gradually formed a system for classifying social status according to occupation and religion. Thus, in San

Jiao Jiu Liu (三教九流, three religious and nine occupations), the historical product of this Han-originated hierarchy, musicians working in entertainment or theatrical genres, along with prostitutes and butchers, were relegated to the lowest status of society.

The text from Shi Ji, later formed the theme of a Ming novel Fengshen Yanyi (封神

演义, a Fantasy of the Coronation for Dieties, ca. 1550s AD), and became the standard image for the Chinese public of King Zhòu and late Shang. The name Zhòu (纣) became

81 Han Fei, “The Ten Faults” in Han Fei Zi (韩非, 十过，韩非子) ca. 247—233 BC.

63 part of the pronoun for tyrants (桀纣); and his music, mimi zhiyin, became the root of immoral music. Interestingly, in the novel Fengshen Yanyi, King Zhòu (纣) is granted a position after his death in the divine court, but Da Ji is executed as the devil and not allowed to come back to the divine world, where she was originally from. This arrangement reveals a mode of judgement in traditional ideology: kings and emperors were chosen by divine will, and are perfect in nature; music and women must be suspected.

But this ideology was not always accepted by emperors in Chinese history. Due to the continuous invasion of northern ethnic groups into the hinterlands of China, the authority of mainstream ideology established by the Han Dynasty collapsed after the fifth century AD. Although many of the new governments adopted the culture and the language of Han, to a great degree its moral standards were abandoned, especially the moral measures for music. In a dialogue between Emperor Taizong (唐太宗, 627-650

AD) and Du Yan (杜淹), the chief censor of Tang Dynasty (618-907 AD), the song “Jade

Tree with Backyard Blossom” (玉树后庭花) was discussed as an example of immorality in music. Du told the emperor that “Jade Tree” was typical music to perdition, and that the composer Chen Shubao (陈叔宝), the last emperor of Chen Dynasty (557-589 AD) had ruined his reign by allowing immoral music. But the emperor insisted that the reign had failed because of the ruler’s own shortcomings, not the music he allowed. The lyric and score of “Jade Tree” remained in the hands of the musicians, and sounded neither

64 moral nor immoral, just beautiful.82

1.3. Fictional Roots of Chinese Yellow Press

Contrasting earlier times when sensationalism and misinformation mainly circulated through oral tradition and official historical literature, scandalization became increasingly commercialized, along with the development of printing technology after the Tang Dynasty (618-907). Around 1046, a civilian craftsman in the Northern Song dynasty (960-1127 AD), Bi Sheng (毕昇), invented the clay movable type (活字),83 which brought widespread change to Chinese society. Before the advent of this invention, the woodblock printer was the primary printing method for publishers. This method uses a piece of wooden board with the whole text carved on it; the carved boards were usually maintained for future use, or for aesthetic reasons. Calendars occupied the majority of publication, which was strictly supervised by officials for the quality and format that could influence the agriculture output. Printed literature mainly circulated in literati cliques, with a comparatively smaller population than the remaining demographics; other genres involved in commercial circulation were very limited. Laws of copyright and censorship were enforced; together with the printing of calendars, investigation on woodblocks was the main approach by which legal charges were executed.

82 Wu Jing, Politics of Zhenguan. (吴兢, 贞观政要) ca. 8 century AD. 83 Shen Kuo of Song Dynasty (宋·沈括), “Chapter for Technologies (技艺)” in Miscellanies Penned in Mengxi Garden (梦溪笔谈) (ca. 1086—1093 AD.)

Compared with the former woodblock printer, clay movable type greatly reduced the cost of publishing, in terms of reusable materials and the risk of legal charge. Although the new technology was more efficient only when mass production was needed, and the woodblock printers were still primarily used for legal publications, the specific political background produced all sorts of opportunities for all means of printing.

A wave of production and demand for literatures—legal or illegal—resulted from two continuous reforms: the Qingli Reform (范仲淹变法 or 庆历新政, 1043-1044) and the Xining Reform (王安石变法 or 熙宁变法, 1069-1085) in the upper middle of the

Northern Song Dynasty. Profits increased rapidly, and the business of publishing provided more and more employment. Thus, the variety of publications involved in the commercial mass circulation was considerably enlarged. Contents of folklore, songs, and news from rural areas started to appear more frequently in printed documents.

Combined with the demands from political contests between the conservative and reforming powers in the Song court, a peak in publication occurred.

Nevertheless, throughout ancient China, only the misinformation and sensationalism of the late Ming Dynasty (1368-1644) could be considered close to what

Americans called yellow journalism. In a watershed moment for the development of literature and music, publications in the late Ming period were popularized much more than before. Novels and musical dramas became independent genres from their more

66 integrated prototypes, and were largely extended in length and expressiveness.

Schemes were formed among drama and narrative genres, giving sensation more effective patterns to reach reader affection by structure, which enriched the expressions of the performance, but with some degree limited the possible development of story lines. Obscenity, crime, and other anti-authority themes were released and expressed by novelists and armature historians in their works. These had long been prohibited topics, and formed the unique norms for Ming stories, by which audiences were often perplexed in their combination of explicit sexual and violent description, and in subtext the conservative and religious moral judgement.

Furthermore, the economical purpose for the mass production of sensationalism, for the first time, overtook political reasons serving as primary themes of publishers.

This trend was interrupted by the invasion of the Manchu people in 1644. After they established the Qing Dynasty (1644—1912 AD), Wenzi Yu (or a “jail for words”) escalated again, imposing the combined ideology of the Manchu hierarchy and

Confucianism. Morality was once again enforced as a persuasion and coercion for this new order of Chinese society. But this was not a condemnation of any morality; it was rather a neutral articulation that moral standards were often imposed for political reasons, and its standards subject to change over time.

For example, the persistent attempts of emperors to abolish foot binding in the

Qing Dynasty received lasting resistance from the Han women. This ban was

67 introduced with another decree, including shaving the hair of men in the Manchu style, enforced by violence before the reign of Kang Xi (康熙, 1662—1723 AD). Although foot binding was a custom that terribly harmed the health and freedom of women, Han people used it as a demonstration of their identity in the early Qing. And ironically, after Emperor Kang Xi gave up violent coercion in changing male hair and clothing styles, the men of Han began to accept the Qing custom of dressing, while women kept binding their feet until 1912. Notwithstanding this, successive emperors kept issuing the ban on foot binding, for political and moral reason.

There remain fundamental differences between publications in the Ming

Dynasty that misinformed the public, and yellow journalism. First, these publications were not journals, nor did they intend to tell the truth. The sensational genres flooding in the press market of the Ming and Song Dynasties were mostly fiction or symbolic forms, like poetry or allegory, and the scandalization was always implied, with names and places of the contemporary events often altered to pseudonyms. Only the persons involved in the issue could sense the target of satire. Meanwhile, interpretations played an important role in the actual enforcement of censorship, which made mistaken convictions a common occurrence. By the light of long-term effects, the interpretation based conviction sometimes uncontrollably escalated discrimination on dissenters.

Often started as a minor partisan dispute, scandalization might attract a mass prosecution of literature and intellectuals.

Second, stories from literary works reached the public primarily through dramas and narrative forms. The printings were only part of the commercial circulations, and it subjected to further curation by performances. These two factors divided the outcomes of literary works into three stages, with the authors, press, and theatrical personnel working to fulfill their own purposes. This three-step procedure considerably detached the themes of dissemination from the intentions of the composition, which compromised the original connotation of the text with civilian norms in publicity. This feature of Ming stories became a model for Chinese fiction even until the internet era.

Although layered with various modern configurations, traditional social norms have always been the themes in Chinese sensationalism.

Because of the demands of performance, that literature might obtain broader publicity, street artists were frequently the victims of political prosecution. From 1651 to

1671, the first two emperors of Qing Dynasty (1644-1912 AD) issued edicts one after another to expel women from the stage in the capital, Beijing. Prohibition of obscenity was again the slogan for this decree, since the actresses were considered prostitutes.

Thus, this ban also confirmed the official disdain for musicians who worked in entertainment venues, and enhanced a re-interpretation on the classification of San Jiao

Jiu Liu. Merchants and musicians, who enjoyed a brief prosperity in the Late Ming era, became governmental targets of repression again, for they were believed by the

Manchurian rulers to possess uncertain and uncontrollable powers of potential

69 insurrection.

However, it took two decades for the banishment of actresses to finally prove effective, and in 1705, another edict, with similar content but harsher punishment, disclosed the vain attempts of previous prohibitions. Although under the slogan of anti- obscenity, the real reason for the actress ban was driven by the repression on Han resistance. After a Manchu dynasty, the Qing, settled down in the old capital of Ming,

Han intellectuals often sustained their resentments through the theater. And xiqu (戏曲)

Chinese opera, was the only genre conveyed serious texts. As the majority of the works were love stories, women were often the soul and the essence of beauty of the early

Qing xiqus. Without women, the plays could not be as attractive as previously, and in the end entailed the widespread “male actress” in Beijing.

The authors of such operas were mostly intellectuals who had failed keju

(imperial examination, see introduction). They did not have other abilities with which to earn their livelihood and composed fiction merely to survive. This kind of experience was common among Ming novelists, who built their stories largely in passive and cynical perspectives. Therefore, usually under wenzi yu, such attitudes were vulnerable to scrutiny. All such features derived from the interpretative conviction imprinted on the political tradition a “hypersensitive” nerve, which stimulated overtones of art works, especially in literature and music. Since officials often carried out censorship as anti-obscenity bans, this hypersensitivity also contributed to the unique altitude

Chinese people had towards yellow music in the twentieth century.

1.4. Yellow Journalism in Shanghai The term yellow journalism was first introduced in Shanghai. In 1914, a journal under The Commercial Press (商务印书馆) called Oriental Magazine (东方杂志) published an article about American journalism, which included the term yellow newspapers (黄色新闻纸). This article concluded that the features of yellow newspapers catered more to interest than facts, long a custom of American newspapers; as a result, readers were pushed until they could not even believe in facts that occasionally appeared in the news. 84 From then on, more essays emerged to introduce the New York

Yellow Kids, yellow press, sensationalism, and media competition in Western news industries. Although these discussions caught some attention of Chinese intellectuals, such warning ahead of arrival did not prevent yellow journalism from blooming in

Shanghai. Shortly after a new economic structure was established there, the art of late

Ming fiction soon found an updated costume in revival.

The 1920s were a landmark of modernization in Shanghai. The French concession had completed its expansion, and constructed the most luxurious community in this city. Russian refugees fled from the 1917 communist revolution and gradually moved in the residencies. Japanese emigrants continuously moved to Shanghai after World War I,

84 Huang Xingtao and Chen Peng, “A Study in the Evolving Meaning of Yellow in Early Modern China,” Historical Study no. 6 (2010), 87.

71 and deliberately created incidents as preparation for the coming invasion. In the middle of the 1920s, the local mafia power centered around Du Yuesheng (杜月笙), was established, and Du became the de facto ruler of this city. By 1937, power divisions among foreigners and the local mafia gradually formed. This situation sustained an economic system featuring extravagant and entertaining lives for upper-class foreigners and very few local elites. While the lower-class Chinese remained at the bottom, a unique social structure formed with blurred and distorted traditional norms intertwined with the colonial order. Social media was best at mirroring the ideological world during this period.

In the 1980s, the scholar Zhu Junzhou made a survey of Chinese news media before 1949, in “A History of Shanghai Tabloids” (1988). This study shows the period from 1926 to 1932 as the peak of Shanghai tabloids, begun with a piece typical of the yellow press, called The Absurd World (荒唐世界), edited by Luo Wuya (骆无涯) and published on October 5, 1926. 85 From some 700 journals that circulated around that time, Zhu summarizes six types of tabloids. Although named tabloids (小报), not all were considered yellow press. The term “tabloids” in 1920s and 1930s Shanghai referred merely to the physical form of this kind of publication, smaller than ordinary newspapers, with largely varied content. For example, among the six types of tabloids,

85 Zhu Junzhou, “A History of Shanghai Tabloids,” News Research Documents no. 3 (1988), 136.

72 the occupational and associational tabloids were published to help build social networks for merchants, and literature society tabloids were dedicated to exchange works within literary cliques. The entertainment news, also with anecdotes and biographies, were primarily published as advertising for performances and movies.

The partisan tabloid was a unique category. Since the political struggles between different branches of the National Party escalated at the end the 1920s, it had fallen into an ambiguous sort between bureau journals and the yellow press. Since the party hired brilliant writers for their critiques, invited reputed figures to write epigraphs, and often disclosed insider stories of the political stage, the partisan tabloids sold very well. For the same reason, writer for this kind of tabloid usually appeared as anonymous. Bias and sensationalism were also unavoidable at some degree. Due to the intense political coverage of this kind of tabloids, it remained the real target for the anti-yellow- journalism movements of the National Government. Moreover, the real yellow press was often the victim of the censorship.

The category labeled in the 1980s as yellow tabloids dedicated stories called pink tabloids or pink stories. The color pink, traditionally linked to sexual scandals, was substituted by yellow after 1940s. This kind of tabloids were half a continuation of Ming fiction and half yellow journalism, since the forms within this kind of journal were mostly novel series, and traditional norms still appearing alongside in these publications. Even with real names and places, most stories were usually too distant

73 from their context, and readers often expected a literary album, instead of newspapers.

Some public figures appeared in the stories, like Ruan Lingyu (阮玲玉), a famous film actress who committed suicide in 1935 (because of intolerant harassment from the media). This incident reflects the stronger reaction of Chinese people toward public opinion than that of Americans. It also reminds us that the traditional morality remained an important part of the ideology, which enabled yellow journalism to cause more devastation to the Chinese society than it had to American society. Besides, the use of yellow in negative terms was still limited to introducing British or American journalism, and was not yet generally applied to Chinese publications.

According to Huang Xingtao, the link between yellow journalism and obscenity started as early as the 1930s, but did not catch the attention of the public until the late

1940s. 86 In 1935, reports focused on the nuances of actresses’ behavior as orange news, since orange was considered combination of pink, the traditional color for sexuality, and yellow, sensationalism. As Huang points out, the use of the term orange news emphasized the still disparate matching of yellow with obscene. In a 1944 report, yellow newspapers were equaled to pink newspapers. But this remark was merely an individual case, and was flooded by the reports about war and anxiety under the Japanese annexation, from 1937 to 1945. In the occupied area, extreme measures were taken by

86 Huang and Chen, “A Study in the Evolving Meaning of Yellow in Early Modern China,” 90.

Japanese censorship to eliminate both anti-invasion and pro-Chinese publications.

Although in the concession district held by Western countries the war refugees found a short-lived haven until 1941, fears and despair still permeated by increasing interference of the Japanese military agents in this area. Assassinations, coercions, and torture were inhumane abuse for imposing the invasion. Under this circumstance, drugs, alcohol, sexuality, romance, and obscure poetry became an anesthetic or guise for intellectuals under the dilemma of survival and resistance in the solitary island.87

In 1945, following the end of World War II, the Japanese army withdrew from

Shanghai, but the invasion left a profound impact on China. Besides the humiliation and catastrophe brought by the most brutal colonialization in the twentieth century, the original infrastructure and social structure of China was deeply devastated. The credibility of the National Government plummeted since it had failed to protect both people and land, and the hypocritical collaboration between the Nationalists and the

Communists showed the impossibility of these two parties working together in the future. During the restoration of Shanghai’s infrastructure and social orders, the remaining war-starving refugees wandered around destroyed streets, disproportionally abundant brothels, casinos, and opium bars, dampening the enthusiasm of intellectuals in the post-war nation-building euphoria. The plague of yellow press and the pervasive

87 Poshek Fu, Passivity, Resistance, and collaboration: Intellectual Choices in Occupied Shanghai, 1937— 1945 (Stanford: Stanford University Press 1993).

75 mafia powers of Shanghai smeared the image of the National Government, which now met problems from a tough competitor—the Communists.

On October 10, 1945, the National and the Communist parties signed the Double

Tenth Agreement (双十协定), aimed at stopping the regional conflicts after the Japanese surrender, and hoping to prevent a civil war. To reach this agreement, the National

Party compromised considerably in relinquishing its autocracy. As a result, the

National Party lost its absolute dominance in politics, and had to face challenges from both electoral competitions with other parties and the media. As the second most powerful and similarly ambitious, the Communist Party became the major competitor of the National Party. Immediately after the end of the National Political Negotiation

Conference (政治协商会议), in January 1946, a media war between the two parties emerged. Sensationalism and scandal were pushed progressively by the deteriorating argue between the two parties, bold slander, and even curses hit news-readers. At this moment yellow journalism thrived, and a civil war was thus inevitable.

However, neither the National nor Communist parties realized how the original meaning of yellow journalism related exactly to their media war. In its American context, yellow implied the idea of pursuing gold, while in China, the competition was driven by craving power. In the roaring tension urged by the “campaign of slurring,” no one could even catch a rapidly turning page among the vortex of events, not to mention questioning the misuse of a phrase. In the so-called protest against yellow

76 journalism, yellow—although through misapprehension—gradually evolved into the traditional taboo of sexuality. Initiated by the Communists, the condemnation of yellow extended into all forms of arts. Without clarifying the denotation of yellow journalism in its original context, the use of yellow increased; terms like yellow fictions, yellow movies and yellow music were directly applied to the of power contest with the Nationalists.

Hence, regardless of the symbolic meaning of this color in traditional Chinese ideology, yellow was equated with the connotation of obscenity.

Meanwhile for the Nationalists, to succeed with the media was something out of reach. Economic crisis, regional conflicts with Communist armies, and bureaucratic struggles within the party had already exhausted the National Government, along with the restoration of the country ruined by war. Pressured from faked or true scandals, yellow was adopted by the government as a tool to hush the discontented media. Thus, the ban was applied on a much broader realm than yellow journalism, which attracted even more fierce mocking and demonstrations from journalists and editors. Admittedly, the most eloquent competitor of the Nationalists—the Communists, gained vast support from all ranks of dissidents to the government. Contrasting to the tone of

Nationalists with their absolute authority and old-style language, the Communists were replete with up-to-date writers and journalists, and their language was closer to that of the public, itself not scrutinizing the accuracy of the information. Thus, the domestic media was won over by the Communists.

Chapter Two: From Mimi Zhiyin to Yellow Music

2.1. A Prelude of Yellow Music—Mimi Zhiyin of the 1930s

While the color yellow in terminology was conventionalized to mean obscene during the 1940s media war, the use of it extended immediately into the art realm.

Initiated in 1945 by left-wing critics, yellow music appeared as a metamorphosis of the ancient theme, mimi zhiyin, and a testimony for how musical morality was modernized in China under the impact of the Cold War. As one example, it also reveals how the role of traditional moral codes, marked by various time labels, were perpetuated in China.

Before getting into this very last stage of the early modernization era—the Cold War—I highlight the period preceding the advent of the term yellow music, when musicians in

China encountered colonial globalization. By the time of this encounter, China’s old norms had been distorted thus priming this country for a colonial modernization process. In this process, a new classification of concepts with a unique hierarchy were defined, which, in the later Cold War period, became the propaganda frame for various powers in China, to follow or to break away from.

As one of the recurrent themes throughout Chinese history, mimi zhiyin had been imprinted with new patterns by the colonial past of Shanghai. In the early 1930s, the rising modern empire of Japan suddenly intensified its invasion in China. At this fatal moment, the historical shadow of mimi zhiyin overlapped with this image in the

78 view of Chinese intellectuals. In his last year of life the young musician, Nie Er (聂耳

1912—1935), addressed an elegy to his homeland in chanting a poem by Du Mu (杜牧

803—852 AD).

Mist envelops the cold water, moonlight envelops the sand. By night I moor on the Qin-Huai canal, close to the wine shops. The sing-song girl (Shang Nv) knows not the grief of fallen dynasties. 88 From across the river comes the sound of “Flowers in the Courtyard”89

Jones quotes this poem as an introduction to his reading of 1930s musical morality. He comments on Nie Er’s musical ideology through an excerpt juxtaposed with this poem.90 This expert derives from a lyric written in 1934 by Sun Shiyi (孙师毅,

1904-1966) for Nie Er’s song “New Women” (新女性), which became the theme song for a 1935 movie with the same title.91 This lyric reflects a radical view seemingly too extreme to represent the trends of this period alone. But for Jones, this radical view is representative of the musical ideology in 1930s China, a more extreme iteration followed in ruling Chinese music from the 1950s to the end of 1970s. Omitting a discussion of Du Mu’s poem, Jones directly jumps to this radical view, and with disparate remarks clumped together draws a pared down image linking Nazism to

Nationalism and Communism. The end of Jones’ argument thus closed in on an

88 Shang Nv (商女, daughter of Shang, or lady of Shang descendant) was the original text, added by the author. 89 Jones, Yellow Music, 105. 90 Ibid. 91 Ibid.

79 ideological inquisition into China’s refusing to convert, and to confess her

Westernization during the modernization era.

To obtain a more pointed argument perhaps, Jones circumvents the discussion of the force of history in the longer term. But this long-term historical force had resulted in regional and temporary winners of competing ideologies, through the tangled streams of happenstance and continuation. In the following articulation, an explanation of Du

Mu’s poem is provided to insight into some continued aspects of Chinese ideology around music. These continued aspects disclose how moral enforcement on music was inherited, interrupted or reinterpreted by powers in establishing their bases and authority. Following the discussion of the original poem, I contrast a lyric from another song composed in 1935 by Nie Er, to provide a different perspective from Jones’.

The last stanza of Du Mu’s poem, frequently quoted by Chinese literati, conveys two metaphors: the “music over the river,” from the story of Shi Kuang playing “Qing

Shang,” and the “Flowers in the Courtyard,” the abbreviation of the song title “Jade

Tree Blossoms in the Backyard” (玉树后庭花), written by the last emperor of the Chen

Dynasty (557-589 AD) Chen Shubao (陈叔宝, 553-604 AD). The phrase sing-song girl refers to a young female singer who entertain around the Shanghai area in the early twentieth century. In the quotation, this term is Jones’ “modernized” translation from

Shang Nv (商女), the character in the original poem. Although Jones’ translation gives a straight-ahead introduction in modern eyes to what the poet experienced, it loses the

80 essence of this poem within its historical reference. Historical reference must be very carefully investigated to understand Chinese poetry, who often adopts analogy to approach such references. Through an analogy, this poem overlaps with the sense of a singer (whom the poet has heard) with Shang Nv (a figure imagined based on historical knowledge).

Shang Nv literarily means daughter of Shang, or lady of Shang descendants.

Shang is the abbreviation for Shang Dynasty (1600-1046 BC). The concept of Shang descendants emerged around 1046 BC, when the identity of Zhou (of the Zhou Dynasty,

1046-256 BC) was formed. But the identity contrast between Shang and Zhou faded and was forgotten around 476 BC, when feudal states became more independent from the central regime and state identities “usurped” the status of a unified identity of Zhou.

There occurred a brief revival in discussion about Shang in the early Han Dynasty (206

BC-220 AD) when the ruler of Han attempted to establish ideological authority through historical references. After the fall of Han, the identity of Shang descendants dissolved around 386 AD, when northern clans successively established states in China and the identity of Han rose; 92 however, in literature the preoccupation with women and

Shang’s music remained. Therefore, a real Shang Nv could never have learn “Jade

Tree,” a song composed a thousand years later; the poet simply designates this

92 Those northern states are called together as Bei Chao (北朝, northern dynasties) by the historians. Bei Wei (北魏) was the first clan to establish a reign in northern China which lasted from 386 to 534 AD.

81 imaginary figure to sing it. By doing so, this poem was enriched by a mournful expression concerning the recurrent tragedy of fallen dynasties, through three layers of overlapping images: the present, the near past, and the ancient past.

As discussed in chapter 1, these elements of music of Shang descendants— female musicians, music across the river, and the song “Jade Tree”—these elements appeared in the poem’s last stanza and all signify an ancient moral tale—music to perdition. But the tone in addressing this tale in Du Mu’s poem changed. As an insider of the falling dynasty connected with this moral tale, instead of condemning he lamented. This change of tone reveals a shift in the identity of the narrator telling the tale. His role as a frequent visitor of the entertainment world also shows a hint of self- deprecation in his lament. Furthermore, the new tone in telling moral metaphors reveals the period of the late Tang era (827—860 AD) as Du Mu lived, a disturbing time full of revolts and coups, after one of the most prosperous periods of ancient China, the

Sheng Tang (627—755).

In many of Du’s literary works, he uses imaginations and historical metaphors to analogue the contrast between the extravagant past and the gloomy present. With dynasties succeeding each other and the country shifting between peace and war, Du’s elegies gained longstanding affection among Chinese intellectuals. When war time arrived, his poems were chanted once again, the Shang Nv became in 1930s China a symbol for the ignorance and immorality of entertainers.

2.1.1. Women, Music and Shanghai

We sell singings everywhere. We sell dancing everywhere. Who doesn’t know? This nation is verging on perdition. By what? Being Shang Nv the name we bear? In starving and cold, we chant our sorrow everywhere. Suffering the taste of life through and through, being a cabaret girl means going with the wind, foreever and ever. Who wants to be slave? Who wants her homeland under encroachment? Poor singing girls, under the iron hoof of war, wounded all over. —Lyrics of “Singing Girls under the Iron Hoof”93

In 1935, Du Mu’s Shang Nv emerged in Shanghai’s cinemas, particularly in the song called “Singing Girls under Iron Hoof” (铁蹄下的歌女) from the movie Children of the Troubled Times (风云儿女). The lyric (written by the director of this movie, Xu

Xingzhi, 许幸之 1904-1991, a young left-wing artist), although developed from the same theme, held an important difference between the perspectives of Du Mu’s original poem and Xu’s lyric. In Du Mu’s poem, a female voice is mentioned, but is obscured with scorn and with subtle complaint. The character of the sing-song girl, whose narration is omitted, is described as ignorant and immoral. In Xu’s lyrics, however, the singing girl turns into the narrator of the story, clarifying their stance and recounting the suffering of entertaining women like herself. In this narration, her lament on the falling dynasties is inherited, but the title of Shang Nv was rejected. Instead of

93 Singing Girls under Iron Hoof, lyrics by Xu Xingzhi translated by the author. Original text is from Wang Yuhe, Music History of Contemporary China, People’s Music Publishing House (Beijing 2009), 180.

83 condemnation or complaint, the song calls for coherence, sympathy and equality. Music and women, no longer burdened by the crime causing a nation’s perdition, depict the fate and will of the entire population as tied together in the ideal of this song.

A reverse in ways women were interpreted in theatre was one of the most important changes in Chinese music from the 1920s to 1930s. Interestingly, the earliest breakthroughs in this field were initiated by the still male-only performances of the

Beijing opera. In the 1920s, the most well-known Beijing opera singers were four men

(Mei Lanfang, Cheng Yanqiu, Xun Huisheng and Shang Xiaoyun)94 who portrayed female characters (旦, dan) on-stage.95 These dan actors mastered various types of female roles. Mei Lanfang and Cheng Yanqiu were famous for acting as fine ladies (青

衣, qingyi); Xun Huisheng was applauded for his portrayals of pretty young girls (花旦, hua dan); and Shang Xiaoyun was a master of female warrior characters (刀马旦, daoma dan). The rise of these actors brought an era of eclectic appreciation for characteristics of women and overt praise of beauty, on- and off-stage.

Resulting from the success of the dan actors, more and more repertoire featured prominent female roles a trend among traditional music dramas in the following decades. The increase of performances featuring female roles in this period catalyzed

94 Mei Lanfang (梅兰芳, 1894—1961), Cheng Yanqiu (程砚秋, 1904—1958), Xun Huisheng (荀慧生, 1900—1968) and Shang Xiaoyun (尚小云, 1900—1976). 95 Dan, 旦, refers to the female roles in Beijing Opera. Before 1910s, dan roles were all played by male in Beijing area.

84 acting innovations in interpreting women. In Mei Lanfang’s performances, female roles were enriched by his detailed portrayal of their disposition. By doing so, the roles of women in drama were no-longer understood merely as decorative for anecdotal messages or pale symbols of virtue and obedience. More importantly, in this period of time women started to step onto the public stages, not only acting female roles, but also male roles. In the Beijing Opera, the renowned actress Meng Xiaodong (孟小冬 1908—

1977) specialized in the role of old gentlemen (lao sheng). The appearance of Yue Ju (越

剧, or Shaoxing Opera) in 1920s Shanghai brought with it the first female-only genre for contemporary Chinese stages, in which all roles were played by women.

Although the rise of women in theatre marked the 1920s as a new era, neither actresses on stage nor plays characterizing female roles were new to China. The importance of women was rooted in theatres since the earliest period of Chinese operatic history. Started from twelfth century, when Chinese opera had just taken form,96 plays featuring women occupied more than half the earliest repertoire. A monograph, Qing Long Ji (青楼集), was dedicated to bringing famous women on-stage in the Yuan Dynasty (1206-1368 AD).

96 Xu Wei, A History of Nan Ci, 1559. (明·徐渭《南词序录》). Nan Ci (南词), or Nan Xi (南戏) is considered the earliest form of the real sense of Chinese opera. We have Xu Wei’s account of the time of Nan Xi’s emergence, “Nan Xi started in the reign of Guang Zong. The composer of earliest plays, Zhao Zhennv (赵贞女) and Wang Kui (王魁), were from Yong Jia (永嘉).” This testimony is considered reliable among scholars of the field.

As discussed in chapter 1, since the fall of the Ming Dynasty (1368-1644), women were restrained from public stages by the Manchu government of the Qing Dynasty

(1644-1912). Losing their legal status, occupational female musicians fell completely into an ambiguous realm between entertainment and prostitution. This stereotyping imposed by the government deprived women from appearing on public stages, and contributed to the unique feature of Beijing opera—with female characters played by male actors. Although this practice subtly insisted on the importance of women in the beauty of Beijing opera, being at the bottom of the hierarchy excluded the opinions of opera musicians from social norms. But their views helped to shape another line of tradition which dominated the excluded history by the officials of the secular arts.

Of course, the other side of the story should be told to prevent our romanticizing the situation of secular arts in China. Opera musicians suffered through tough lives relegated to the dark side of Chinese society. Their lifelong and toilsome training, stress and depression from the harassments outlaw societies sustained, excessive night life, and poverty after retirement shortened most of their lives. Before the twentieth century, only the most successful musicians earning a livelihood from tutoring could survive after retirement. These problems were the cost of lives at the margin of society. As a result, opera musicians were mostly driven by the necessity to survive, the deceptive freedom of their sub-society was merely a delusion of outsider romanticizing. The tangled relationship between urban operatic genres and prostitution seriously impaired

86 the health and minds of these musicians. Before the 1910s, female performers living in cities other than Beijing were limited to singing in brothels, private parties, or minstrel shows in rural areas, where bans on public venues kept them beyond reach. This situation deprived female musicians from legal and moral protection. Furthermore, it engraved labels on female performers as immoral and obscenity, which influenced the view of Chinese people on the question of whether women should have occupations other than house wife or farmer.

Beginning in the 1910s, the old impressions of music and women encountered challenges from the New Cultural Movement (新文化运动), initiated by the Nationalist intellectuals. The liberation of women became a crucial mission of New Culture advocators. Within two decades, from the 1910s to the 1930s, the life of women in urban areas of China shifted completely. In 1912, foot binding (缠足) was banned by the government, and in the 1920s, breast tie (裹胸) was prohibited.97 Although in rural areas, these bans took a long time to implement, their effects were immediately felt in cities. In the educational realm, although in the past women had been able to study in local schools funded by their kinship clans (宗族私塾), the government-funded

97 Foot binding and breast tie were considered by many as two of the evidences of how women were suppressed and humiliated in traditional Chinese culture. Foot binding is using long strip of cloth wrapping the feet from very young age, to prevent them from growing, and keep them in the same size as the ones of six-year old girls. Breast tie was applied since a girl in her teenage, for keeping a flat front in public. These two practices greatly restrained the freedom and natural beauty of women, and seriously harmed the health of women in the past.

87 institutions were exclusively for men. In the 1910s, Nanjing became the first city to officially open colleges to women. The Jinling Women’s College (金陵女子学院) were founded in 1913, and in 1920, Central State University of Nanjing (国立中央大学) started accepting both women and men. In the 1920s, these changes in the educational system produced a huge amount of job opportunities, and increasingly women came to urban areas for work. Affiliated with educational institutes, these occupational women were considerably respected by the public.

As more women became teachers and students in cities, a liberation movement for women grew. Interestingly, this liberation of women was partly promoted by chaos.

The fall of Qing Dynasty in 1912 was succeeded by an explosion of lasting regional conflicts. Although a government was immediately established after the abdication of

Emperor Xuan Tong (宣统, reigning from 1908 to 1912), the irreconcilable conflicts between the ruling party (Beiyang Clique, 北洋军阀) and its opposition (National

Government, 国民党) placed the country in a major confrontation between the north and the south. Stemming from the military force of the Manchu government, the

Beiyang Clique supported the constitutional monarchy; the Nationalists, mounting their steps out of rebellion, insisted on a republic.

For strengthening the will of the republic ideal, the leader of the Nationalists,

Sun Yat-Sen (or Sun Zhongshan 孙中山), outlined a three-step modernization process

88 for China: military autocracy, presidential autocracy, and a constitutional state. Since peace had just been achieved from agreements between the two parties, the first step, military autocracy of the Nationalist Party, could not be implemented at once.

Preparation in the media and educational system was planned in waiting for the opportunity of an eventual break-up with Beiyang Government. A confrontation in ideology became necessary for refusing the temptation of compromise and establishing authority. It was this ideological confrontation that caused a train of false dilemmas for

China’s development, around West or East, new or old. Complex concepts were simply paired into antonyms in signifying the two opposing sides of Nationalists and Beiyang

Clique: republic or monarchy, democracy or autocracy, science or superstitious.

Under this circumstance, women’s liberation triumphed abruptly in China, despite her thousands of years of gender preoccupation. Started from 1926, the peak of women’s liberation movement coincided with a military movement called bei fa (北伐, the Crusade to the North, or the Northern Expedition). In January 1926, Chiang Kai-

Shek succeeded as the president of the National Party after the death of Sun Yat-Sun in

1925. The first important decision he made after inauguration was to initiate bei fa. In

1928, the National Party came into power to lead China, and the capital was set in

Nanjing, an ancient city, 300 kilometers west of Shanghai. A euphoria of revolution had encouraged young Chinese women to walk out of traditional norms overnight.

But the zeal of new culture did not much affect women from older generations

89 living in the vast isolated rural areas. Especially for them, revolution was more upheaval than improvement. When huge population of young people came into urban areas to pursue their careers or more modern lives, a considerable amount of traditional women were abandoned in rural areas. While young husbands talked passionately about new ideas and revolution in faraway cities—in search for freedom and real loves—their traditional first wives stayed in their hometowns, taking care of their parents. The rights these ladies had obtained from enduring traditional norms, illiteracy, tolerance, and bound feet, all became reasons for their abandonment by their husbands. In the age of revolution, they were filtered out by the new society because viewed as old or traditionally-minded.

Meanwhile, the new-style women were seen in traditional eyes as a disaster for normal life, brought by a “Western virus.” This mutual intolerance between the rural and the urban perspectives, brought by the sudden and unbalanced modernization in

China, eventually brewed into a catastrophe during the Cold War period. Nothing can be perfect. However, the contribution of women’s liberation is still undeniably one of the greatest achievements in modern China. And this achievement helped to shape a new era for arts and social life in the Republic era (民国时期 1912~1949).

In 1920, the president of the Shanghai Conservatoire of Fine Arts (上海美术专科

学校), Liu Haisu (刘海粟, 1896-1994) decided to adopt nude models in painting studio.

In 1927, the Natural Breasts Movement gave rise to a transformation in fashion, which

90 enabled women to wear shorter dresses and expose more skin and natural curves in public. Actresses started to appear in swimming-suit photos in magazines,98 and the qipao (旗袍) became the symbol of pre-1949 fashion of Chinese women.

These changes in arts and social life accumulated and converged in the 1930s, with the rise of Chinese cinema. A “Camellias” style of romanticizing lower-class women, like prostitutes, cabaret, or sing-song girls thus appeared as a trend in literature works and films. For example, Sun Rise (日出), a play by Cao Yu (曹禺 1910-1996) written in 1936, depicted the tragedy of Chen Bailu (陈白露), a courtesan. In Lao She’s

(老舍 1899—1966) 1935 novel Crescent (月牙儿), an unnamed lady suffers in poverty and finally falls into prostitution.

From many of these works alike, sympathy, respect for women, and appreciation of beauty were highlighted by the poignant tone of the narration. Romanticism featured heavily in urban literature and theatrical genres in 1930s Shanghai. But a pro-artistic attitude towards women, especially those in the entertainment world, was not held equally by those in Chinese cities. Urban poverty drove lower-class women to cheap labor. Mafia societies, prostitution, and yellow journalism also challenged the fragile improvement of women’s status. Traditional norms, tangled with resentment and speculation of the local lower class on the colonial hierarchy in Westernized cities,

98 Paul Pickowicz and Kuiyi Shen Liangyou, Kaleidoscopic Modernity and the Shanghai Global Metropolis, 1926-1945 (Boston: Brill 2013), 5.

91 shaped a convoluted attitude of the local population towards new culture. Through the disturbing period in China before the breakout of World War II, Shanghai was, compared with other parts of China, more peaceful, and always a haven from brutality.

Meanwhile, all kinds of norms and opportunists persisted, contesting, and coexisting in this city into a hot-pot for colliding ideologies.

Developed out of the concessions since 1840s, the center of Shanghai’s business had no traditional preoccupation. In 1842, the Qing government signed the Nanjing

Treaty99 with Great Britain, as the end of the First Opium War. Shanghai, among the list of treaties, was forced to open as a port, and authorized to give a concession, for building a consulate for Britain. The location of the concession was an alluvial plain, which was called by the natives as “the Bund (外滩).” This location was chosen, by the

British ambassador George Balfour (1809—1894), for its perfect site as a harbor. In 1844,

France and the United States also obtained rights to build a concession in Shanghai, next to the British concession. The Bund, hosting British, French and American concession thus became the starting point of the prosperity of Shanghai in the modern era.

The first Western musical recreation in Shanghai, a ball, took place in 1849, at the

99 Nanjing Treaty is the treaty signed by Qing government and the Great Britain, after the first Opium War in 1842. Among the list of requirements from British government, as a victory, five cities, Guangzhou (广州), Fuzhou (福州), Xiamen (厦门), Ningbo (宁波) and Shanghai (上海) were forced open as commercial port for the European merchants to trade in China.

92 newly built British consulate, with all residents from the three concessions invited. This event was called “the Bachelors’ Ball” by attendees, since no woman among the participants, the earliest Western adventurers in Shanghai. The commercial conditions inside of the concession were just as gloomy as the “Bachelors’ Ball.” Although foreigners were there for doing business with locals, a segregation law was imposed between the concession and the Chinese residential areas. Local people were not allowed to set foot in the concession, nor could foreigners come out from their enclaves.

Additionally, with the hatred of locals seeing the foreigners as invaders, the segregation held on tightly—for a decade after the grant of the concession, there was no business to do at all.

Shortly after the Bachelor’s Ball, a peasantry rebellion, called Xiao Dao Hui,100 broke out in 1853, which ruined the livelihood of the local community. Refugees from the old town of Shanghai then flooded into the concession, regardless of previous hatreds and the segregation. For the businessmen in the concession at that moment, the influx of local population was an opportunity for gain fortune. After being persuaded by both Chinese and British officials to give up segregation in most concession areas,

European businessmen started to rent houses to Chinese refugees. By doing so, they eventually started to trade with Chinese people. Meanwhile, the Chinese refugees

100 Xiao Dao Hui: 小刀会, literally “mini machete society,” was a rebellion in nineteenth-century China.

93 gradually settled down in the concession and started businesses there, too. Since the boundary between the locals and the foreigners had been lifted, an urbanization expanded from the concession into its vicinities. More Chinese people from surrounding areas came in search of opportunities in the bourgeoning Shanghai.

Especially because the Qing government could not rule inside the concessions, the ban on women’s participation in theater and singing performances lost its effect.

With cultural and linguistic barrier, the foreign governors either could not understood the show or did not deem it as should be restrained. This situation attracted rural music bands and female performers moving to Shanghai. At the same time, commercial, cultural and mafia sub-societies, which had suppressed together with musicians by traditional political ideology, ran into a ruling-free environment in the concessions; the rise of a local entertainment market thrived in both traditional music and prostitution.

Sensing the opportunities of this rising market, music and theater troops performing traditional urban genres, like Beijing Opera, also started touring Shanghai. This concentration of multiple regional genres in one place stimulated the exchange and further development of traditional music. For example, a rural operatic genre called Tan

Huang (滩簧), formerly prevalent around the lower Yangzi River, transmuted into various new forms after it was brought to Shanghai, including Yue Ju (Shaoxing Opera),

Hu Ju (Shanghai Opera) and Ping Tan (Accompanied Narratives).

By 1920s, Shanghai developed into the biggest modern city in China. Earlier in

1863, the combination of British and American concession formed the Shanghai

International Settlement (上海公租界) which laid a foundation for Shanghai to be the center of global economy in East Asia. Besides of the local Chinese, residents were mainly from Britain, United State, France, Portugal, Philippine, Russia, Germany, India and Japan. The rapid urbanization and globalization boosted job opportunities in

Shanghai for all ranks and all nationalities. An international entertainment industry with a colonial hierarchy was formed in this decade. This colonial hierarchy, brought by globalization and Westernization into cities like Shanghai, shaped a basic structure for

Chinese modernization in its early stage. Although the British, the Americans and the

Frenches could always stay in the top of the society, the rest strata of this hierarchy were not still; it evolved along with the changing demographic structure.

Before World War II, the consumption of music in Shanghai had been shaped an evolving hierarchy. In 1879, the Shanghai Public Band, the first Western symphonic band in China, was established.101 By 1925, this band exclusively performed for Europeans due to the venues for the concerts still held in segregation. Local populations went to

Xiyuan (戏园, opera courtyard, a form of traditional theater) or teahouses, which were open to all, but mostly attended by Chinese people. Entering the 1910s, the rise of

101 “Shanghai Symphony Orchestra—A Symphony Poem in Three Centuries.” Orchestra History in Shanghai Symphony Orchestra official site, http://www.shsymphony.com/page-view-id- 14.html.

“Western-style schools (西式学堂)” brought new classes and a new musical genre,

Xuetang Yuege (学堂乐歌, the school song), into Shanghai. Students and young intellectuals formed the main audiences and composers for this genre. After 1917, a considerable population of Russian refugees moved into Shanghai, some became the main body of musicians and dancers in middle-ranked cabarets.

In 1919, the hierarchy of Shanghai underwent a significant shock brought on by the May Fourth Movement (五四运动), caused by the treaty signed between Japan and

European Allied countries in the Paris Peace Conference—transferring the German enclave in the Shandong Province of China to Japan, with China’s absence. This event provoked wide spread anger in Chinese people, especially young students, toward all foreign concessions. In Beijing, students held demonstrations in front of embassies of

Britain, France, Italy, and the United States, appealing for withdrawing the decision on the Shandong dispute. Only the American ambassador accepted the appeal and denied the validity of the treaty. In Shanghai, a strike was held by workers from all departments. Local merchants closed their shops and attended demonstrations. The areas that had remained segregated in Shanghai International Settlement thus became targets of angry students. They assembled to demand access to those concession venues still segregated.

At this moment, the first symphonic orchestra of China, the Shanghai Public Band

(formed in 1879 in the concessions), was growing, and increasingly bringing European

96 musicians into China, which indirectly caused the segregation to be lifted partially in

1925. Besides playing in the band, musicians naturally earned extra income by tutoring local pupils. The same thing happens all the time, everywhere. But in the turn of nineteenth and twentieth century, members of the Shanghai Public Band became pioneers of symphonic instrumental education in China. By the 1930s, already some local pupils reached professional levels as orchestra players, and, in 1927, these local players, together with their tutors in the Shanghai Public Band, became the core staff in establishing an orchestra department for the newly built National Conservatoire of

Music (上海国立音乐专门学校), which launched the earliest symphonic instrumental education of in China.

In 1919, the Shanghai Public Band contracted Mario Paci, an Italian pianist, as their conductor. When he arrived, Shanghai became a hot spot for the May Fourth

Movements. In hoping to enlarge the Shanghai Public Band’s market to include Chinese audiences and musicians in symphonic concerts, Paci appealed for locals to be allowed in concert halls. But the approval of his appeal had a long way to go. As an ambitious young musician, Paci declared his objective to build the number one orchestra of Asia.

He implemented a serial of reforms in the band, including enlarging recruitment of musicians and actively marketing his concerts regardless the social boundaries in

Shanghai. These reforms contributed greatly to creating an ambience of Classical music among the elites and students of this city. Paci changed the name of this band in 1922 to

97 the Shanghai Municipal Orchestra, and was finally able to host Chinese audiences in 1925.

In 1930s, the first Chinese musician was recruited to the orchestra. 102 But still, inclusiveness was limited to concert halls. The segregation inside the concession was not totally lifted until 1937, when Chinese refugees again rushed into the concessions due to war-fire. Unfortunately, this lift in segregation did not contribute much to the music, serving only to share witness of the brutality of war by Westerners and the

Chinese. Paci left band in 1942 due to the total occupation of the concession by the

Japanese army, and died in 1946 in Shanghai before the re-establishment of the

Shanghai Orchestra.

Live jazz concerts were introduced to Shanghai during the 1920s. According to the Chinese scholar Chen Chen, one jazz band was under the management of Mario

Paci in the 1920s.103 But the real style of Paci’s band and the program of actual performances remain unknown. The earliest known jazz player who toured Shanghai was the Danish American drummer Whitey Smith (1897—1966).104 However, his name was not seen in jazz histories, which made his autobiography, I Didn’t Make a Million, the only source of information about him. Before coming to Shanghai, Smith was a club

102 Yang Hon-Lun, “From Colonial Modernity to Global Identity: the Shanghai Municipal Orchestra,” in China and the West: Music, Representation and Reception, eds. Yang Hon-Lun and Michael Saffle (Ann Abor: University of Michigan Press 2017), 50. 103 Chen Chen, “A Study of the Localization of Jazz in Shanghai” (master thesis, Shanghai Normal University, 2005), 2. 104 Whitey Smith, I Didn’t Make a Million (Hong Kong: Earnshaw Books 2017), 1-17.

98 player performing in the Little Club and the Ambassador Hotel in the Tenderloin district of San Francisco. Influenced by the Prohibition, his business was dismal. In

1922, he met Louis Ladow, the owner of the Old Carlton Cafe in Shanghai and in need of a band. After a brief hesitation, Smith arrived in Shanghai the same year, and stayed in China until the Japanese invasion in 1937. His first gig was in Carlton Hotel; then, after Carlton closed, he moved to Astor House Hotel. Into the late 1920s and 30s Smith also played at the Little Club (Shanghai), the Paramount Club and the Canidrome

Ballroom.

Smith never mentions the segregation of the concessions in his autobiography; instead, he notes upper-class Chinese and Euro-American elites were brought together into luxury entertainments in these areas. This fact brings more complexity to the colonial hierarchy in Shanghai. Since the local elites often shared privilege with the colonists, nationality was merely a superficial criterion for ranking. Power appears to be the actual principle in the colonial order. Besides, Smith’s accounts about historical events were considerably punctuated in time. Due to his close relationship with

Nationalist politicians, like “General William,” President Kiang Kai-Shek (蒋介石,

1887—1975) and his wife Song Meiling (宋美龄 1898—2003), Smith was well informed of political events in China. Because sources of information were limited within his range of activity, Smith’s comments on those events give precious access to the perspectives of elites which otherwise would be buried under condemnation in modern

99 historical studies in Mainland academic circles. Brutal and disturbing as reflected by

Smith’s delineations, an often-neglected aspect of Shanghai lives during the years of new ideas and revolution shows up in this foreign musician’s view-point, revealing jazz’s unfortunate prospects in China during the early modernizing era.

Valaida Snow (1904—1956), the African American vocalist and trumpeter, arrived in August 1926, with the Jack Carter band.105 She left Shanghai probably in 1928, and Jack Carter’s band remained there. There are few documents dedicate in her stay in

Shanghai. Trumpeter Buck Clayton mentions in his biography that before his arrival in

1934, Snow had toured Shanghai with the Jack Carter band. (She also advised the cooks in Canidrome Ballroom106 how to cook soul food.107)

The Canidrome was built in 1928, so Snow perhaps also played in the

Canidrome. According to Rosetta Reitz, Snow was contracted at a “Plaza Hotel.”108 And in Smith’s autobiography, this hotel, owned by a Chinese man, named Mr. Low, was located in the French concession.109 No more information about this hotel appears among other records. A “Palace Hotel” was located in the Bund (外滩) in front of a

Cathay Hotel, and very likely another place Snow performed. The Palace Hotel opened

105 Rosetta Reitz, “Valaida Snow: Queen of the Trumpet Sings and Swing,” Black American Literature Forum 16 no. 4 (winter 1982), 50. 106 Canidrome Ballroom, 逸园舞厅, was part of Canidrome Stadium (逸园跑狗场) located in French Concession. 107 Clayton, Buck Clayton’s Jazz World, 67. 108 Reitz, “Valaida Snow,” 50. 109 Smith, I Didn’t Make a Million, 108.

100 in 1908 and, together with Cathay Hotel, became part of today’s Fairmont Peace Hotel.

During the 1920s and 1930s, the Palace Hotel hosted balls and live jazz performances.

But its entertaining business was interrupted during the Japanese occupation, beginning in 1937. The Grand Carlton hotel, where Smith played, was also a site for

Snow’s gigs. The Astor House hotel had a tea dance program with jazz concerts in

1920s, and Snow might have played there. Jazz was a very small world during the period in which she played gigs in Shanghai, therefore, she likely performed in all these locations and perhaps more.

Snow arrived in Shanghai in a momentous year of Chinese history. Besides of the peak of women’s liberation, 1926 featured in a serial of crucial events that altered the political configuration of this country. Following the inauguration of Chiang Kai-Shek, the civil war, bei fa started, and just overlapped with Snow’s residence. The war ended in 1928, the year she left, when the Nationalist Party became the ruling party of China and the capital was moved from Beijing to Nanjing. China’s political center thus moved just next door to Shanghai, the economic center of East Asian at that time.

Meanwhile, in 1926, an acute conflict among politicians divided the Communist

Party of Soviet Union (CPSU) into two camps. This conflict polarized the ideology of

CPSU, and caused extremist arguments within the party well into the political prosecution of the 1930s. This polarization also extended to the party’s diplomatic strategies toward China. Its influence in China polarized the Nationalists, the moderate

101 communists, the non-partisan individuals, and eventually meant the rejection of any

Capitalist issue.

These changes in China’s political configuration also shaped the course of jazz’s development in China. In 1926, Nationalist politicians rose as the paramount class of this country. The United State strongly supported China’s position in regaining the concession Shandong from Japan and, in 1922, Japanese jurisdiction in China through annexation was denied at the Washington Naval Conference, whence Nationalists formed an ally with the United States. Hence, the United States became the paradigm of the governmental system and ideology for Chinese Nationalists. From 1928, American entertainment became fashionable for Nationalist elites. At the Astor House Hotel, a tea dance program was especially designed to bring Chinese and Western elites together.

Thus, the Nationalist elites were also the first to break away from segregation between jazz and the locals in China.

However, the popularity of jazz in Shanghai was brief and very limited. Wars, rivalries, and turbulence deprived jazz from a sustained market crucial for its survival or growth. This instability turned unendurable for American musicians beginning in

1937, when a massive invasion launched and the Japanese Army controlled the whole

Shanghai except the International Settlement. Although slaughters and lootings were kept outside of the Settlement, interrogation, surveillance, coercions, kidnapping, assassinations, and the accidental spread of war-fire between the Japanese and

102

Nationalist air force, made the city unlivable; anyone with a chance to escape did so.

Besides these challenges, the April 12 Incident in 1927 tore apart cooperation between the National and the Communist Parties. From then on, all cultural elements, including those with interests in jazz, became targets for communists to reject and to denounce. This situation helped to revive musical morality in the 1930s, which ultimately caused a disastrous end for music in the Cold War period.

Figure 10. Harlem Gentlemen in Canidrome Figure 5. Harlem Gentlemen with Duke Ellington

Figure 6. Buck Clayton’s life in Shanghai

103

2.1.2. The Problem of Style

In his autobiography, Whitey Smith mentions almost no other jazz musicians, except his own band members and some popular singers. None of the big names in jazz he would have known in the United States—such as Jellyroll Morton, James P. Johnson,

King Oliver or the later but still contemporary Louis Armstrong—appeared. Seemingly,

Smith’s musical activities were isolated with the rest of the jazz world. Furthermore, the places he played were certainly also hosting other musicians, like Snow, Teddy

Weatherford and Clayton. It is impossible not to know those famous names in such a small world of jazz in 1920s and 1930s Shanghai. Only on one occasion does Smith mentioned a U.S. marine and mafia man called Jack Riley. Smith tells a story about a band from Chicago and their fight with Riley, the Harlem Gentlemen of Buck Clayton, who had arrived in Shanghai in 1934. Mentioning no names, Smith uses terms like

“fourteen-piece negro band” or “the colored boy” instead.110 His remarks degrade the credibility of his account of Shanghai’s jazz world, since it ties him to intentionally downplaying others and racial discrimination. Furthermore, it raises the question—was

Smith playing jazz at all? If not, what was he playing?

In his preface to Smith’s biography, Andrew David Jones points to the recording,

Nighttime in Old Shanghai, which incorporates Chinese elements and a Tin Pan Alley

110 Smith, I Didn’t Make a Million, 86.

104 style melody, not jazz. A rhythmic base of Charleston and a Classical chord progression tidily “marched” by all brass players together. This recording resembles more the so called “Chinese jazz,” which was a popular musical genre prevailed in Shanghai’s cabarets from the 1920s to the 1940s.

As Andrew David Field notes, although Smith’s account is self-centered and overestimates his role in the jazz world, he likely influenced the popular composer Li

Jinhui (黎锦晖 1891—1961).111 Smith mentions his incorporation of Chinese elements into jazz after taking the advice of the Chinese General “William.”112 The most important aspect of Smith’s arrangement was to play only melody and omit the complicated chords. His modification of what he called jazz achieved great acclaim among Chinese audiences, who learned how to dance in his ballroom.113 This music, derived from the ballroom ensemble and Chinese popular music, became the prototype of what was later called Old Shanghai jazz (老上海爵士).

After Snow, Buck Clayton appeared on Shanghai’s jazz scene in 1934. Just before his departure to China, Clayton was in Hollywood, Los Angeles, with his band and

Duke Ellington.114 He had experienced a turning point in his life, with the gambler band leader, and the owner of the Club Ebony, Earl Dancer, who dragged the band into a

111 Ibid, “Preface” by Andrew David Field. 112 Ibid, 21-24. 113 Ibid, 18-23. 114 Clayton, Buck Clayton’s Jazz World, 58-61.

105 crisis.115 This crisis resulted in Clayton’s leading the band. In search for new places for gigs, Clayton met the Chicago based pianist Teddy Weatherford (1903—1945), who had just toured Shanghai, and was working as booking agent for Canidrome Ballroom.116 In

1934, the United States was still marching hard out of the Great Depression. Business was still dismal. Whereas, the end of early jazz period was pushed to its peak by the name Louis Armstrong, and the Swing and Big Band era was rising. This encounter of the rise of jazz to the still frustrating economic conditions in the U.S. encouraged many excellent young musicians to search for opportunities elsewhere. As Clayton recounted, he agreed immediately to come to China, since he “had nothing to lose” at that moment leaving the United States.117

With members mostly from western parts of the United States, Clayton’s band never reached the East Coast. Clayton disclosed that none of the members had even seen Harlem, although his band was called the Harlem Gentlemen.118 Unfortunately, no recordings survive of Clayton’s playing in Shanghai but very likely he played Swing in the Canidrome, as that would line up with his social network in the American jazz community. The violinist Joe McCutchin played in his band, and Clayton commented that McCutchin’s playing “really added quite a bit to the band—more like classical,

115 Ibid, 59. 116 Ibid, 60. 117 Ibid, 61. 118 Ibid, 51.

106 under the vocalists especially.”119 Thus, jazz players would more or less adjust their style to the situations (for example personnel, employers’ taste or use of the music). But for jazz musicians like Clayton, a clear boundary existed between jazz and other styles.

From the late 1920s on, cabarets became prominent in entertainments in

Shanghai. In the night life of the 1930s, various styles of music played in cabarets were called “jazz.” Among them the number of Russian and Filipino players greatly exceeded African American musicians, at that time still the primary authentic jazz performers. These performers of authentic jazz were contracted mainly at the top ranks of entertainment venues, like the Canidrome and the Carlton Hotel. The disparity of income and the exchange rate between the local population and foreigners, especially those from Europe and the United States, formed a consumption hierarchy in recreations. With this consumption hierarchy, economic segregation occurred between live jazz music and the Chinese public, as observed by Buck Clayton, “many Chinese people could not even afford to look at the Canidrome Ballroom where his (Buck

Clayton) orchestra was the headline act.”120

A stratification formed from the link between this hierarchy and the nightlife style. Wealthy foreigners and a few top Chinese elites, especially Nationalists, went to luxury ballrooms like the Canidrome and the Paramount. From the middle 1930s, the

119 Ibid, 57. 120 Jones, Yellow Music, 6.

107 former owner of Paramount was bankrupted, and downgraded to a taxi cabaret, a bar or club for social dance, where dancing partners were available for a comparatively low price.

When Clayton lived in Shanghai, middle class foreigners (especially U. S. marines) and rich Chinese merchants, clerks and well-to-do students were frequent denizens for these kinds of venues. Russian and Filipino players were the most often hired for taxi cabarets music. Japanese and Chinese players joined the stage later, in the second half of 1930s. African American jazz musicians, like Clayton and his band members, occasionally toured these cabarets; although rare in number they received great admiration from Russian, Japanese, and Chinese musicians.

However, the general admiration of authentic jazz players had little effect on the trend of cabaret music in Shanghai. Besides background and limits of players’ musical training, the audience demographic of taxi cabarets influenced the kinds of music played there. Even for Clayton, he recounted that he had to make arrangements of

Chinese popular music composed by Li Jinhui, at some cabaret owners’ requests.

Musically, jazz failed to extend its popularity beyond the economic and cultural segregation between jazz and the Chinese public.

The term “jazz,” designate only the instrumentation of jazz, became fashionable in Shanghai’s recreational life. Various interpretations, based on impressions of jazz

108 played by international bands, created the Old Shanghai jazz, one quite different from

African American jazz. The rise of taxi cabarets at the end of 1920s encountered the spread of a superficially “jazzy” trend, which used the term “jazz” to advertise all kinds of cabarets in Shanghai. Thereby, the origin of a Chinese definition of jazz as a cabaret music with percussion, piano, brass and reeds.

The cultural aura surrounding jazz thus localized in China. In his in-depth survey of this localization process, a Shanghai based Chinese scholar, Chen Chen, questions the style of what was played as jazz by local players, what they called

“classical jazz.” He discovered that the repertoire played was mostly popular songs, not inaccurate for being called jazz, since a considerable portion of the standards of

American jazz was made up of popular songs.121 The criterion for identifying the music as jazz falls into how scores were interpreted. Here Chen’s discovery is crucial: improvisation and swing, two significant characteristics of jazz, were not present in the music of local “jazz players” of Shanghai.122

In the 1980s, local players who performed in 1940s Shanghai’s jazz scene reunited to form a band at the Peace Hotel. From many video examples we see, a combination of jazz instrumentation with 1930s to 1940s Chinese popular music, not jazz, best describes their style. This style of music, Shanghai smooth jazz, was how most

121 Chen, “A Study of the Localization of Jazz in Shanghai,” 9. 122 Ibid: 10.

109 of Chinese people would identify jazz throughout the 1930s and 1940s. In 1930s, a rare group of local elites still had access to American jazz players in the top entertainment venues. After 1945, Shanghai smooth jazz became the only “jazz” played in Shanghai’s bars since the city had totally withdrawn from foreign involvement after World War II.

A few more bands and players joined the jazz scene at the end of the Republic era.

Finally, in 1950s, the only remaining “jazz” in Shanghai was banned.

The only period of authentic American jazz played in Old Shanghai was from the

1920s to 1937, when the last group of players like those Clayton’s band headed back to the U.S. due to the Japanese invasion. The earliest Chinese jazz band, Yu Yuezhang’s

Band (余约章乐队), appeared in 1935, and played at the Lao Dahua Cabaret (老大华舞

厅) in the Hong Kou District (虹口区). Two years later, China was at war and entertainment in Shanghai fell into a fragile situation. The good times for Chinese bands had to wait until 1945, when the Jin Jiemei Band (金杰美乐队) became the most important band that played at the Paramount cabaret.123 The flourishing of these local bands lasted only until 1950, as the relationship between China and the United States faltered due to the Korean War, and jazz was listed with the ban on yellow music.

The name Li Jinhui (黎锦晖 1891-1961) comes up in discussions of Old Shanghai jazz. His association with jazz in China began with a connection to the term yellow

123 Ibid, 8.

110 music, which appeared only with the advent of the Cold War. In 1950s and 1960s, Li’s music was taboo for the Mainland, where he was denounced as “the father of yellow music.” As more researchers recently have studied entertainment music of the Republic era, Li has been viewed as both father of Chinese popular music and of Chinese jazz.

Andrew F. Jones considers the acceptance of Li’s music unfair. He demonstrates the issue using the testimony of Wang Renmei (王人美, 1914—1987, an actress and singer active in 1930s Shanghai), who commented on Li’s piano playing.

You ask what the Li-style instrumental technique was all about? Simply put, Teacher Li used simplified notation instead of European notation, playing the melody with his right hand, and the harmonic support with his left. This obviously wasn’t the right way to play piano, and you could never get very good playing like that. I heard that one female piano teacher saw him play and fled the room laughing and crying at the same time. A lot of other musicians thought Li was “a heretic” and “charlatan.”124

Jones criticizes this remark as an “evolutionary assumption,” in which complaint of Li’s piano skill is based on the assumption that Western training is more advanced, and the knowledge in Chinese folk music is considered vulgar. However, in leaving out crucial perspectives of musicians, Jones went too far in ideology while interpreting the remark. In Chinese music societies, musicians have always been proud of their roles as heirs of certain historical schools. This situation endows a traditional obedience to the norms or standards of the musical world. Wang Renmei’s scorn for Li Jinhui, as “a

124 Jones, Yellow Music, 103.

111 heretic and charlatan,” perfectly shows this traditional obedience.

Furthermore, Wang’s criticism aims at how Li plays piano, a typical Western instrument, and staff notation is naturally considered as appropriate for this instrument. Jones’ criticism on the disdain for simplified notation (or numbered musical notation) implies that it is more Chinese than the staff notation, regardless that this notation was invented in eighteenth century France. In 1930s China, qualified musicians playing traditional instruments still read gongche pu,125 since the simplified notation was not generally used for professional training yet,126 for neither Western nor traditional instruments. Whereas in public education, simplified notation was greatly popularized, along with the ideas of French modernist idols, such as Jean-Jacques Rousseau.

Hence, the objection to Li Jinhui’s music had another possible cause. It probably came from the traditional disdain from the professional musician toward the armatures.

And this disdain escalated with the tremendous success of Li Jinhui, an amateur composer, whose career took off in the new recording market of the 1930s.

In traditional Chinese society, the standards for evaluating musical performance were familiar to audiences. Competition was enhanced by the shared standards in skills

125 工尺谱, the traditional notation for many of Chinese esemble instruments. 126 In the 1920s and early 1930s, musician and educator Liu Tianhua (刘天华) tried to improve simplified notation in order to use it for traditional ensemble, instead of gongche pu. But this was limited as an experiment, and the simplified notation was still used for general musical education and transcriptions done by amateur musical collectors.

112 and expressiveness, which were also key for musicians’ reputation. In ancient China, the particularly low status of musicians playing music for entertainment meant that only the best could earn the same respect of an ordinary intellectual. As the colonial economic system infiltrated into the daily life of Shanghai, the social norms and musical standards of audiences changed. Although for local live genres, traditional aesthetic standards were still the core for evaluation, the stereotype of musical occupations was fading, and the social status and acceptance of entertainment musicians improved.

Meanwhile, European Classical music became fashionable for Westernized elites of 1930s Shanghai. Although many did not understand the music very well, the atmosphere of a lifestyle that included Western Classical music was encouraged in modernizing China. European musicians were hired in conservatoires, and the numbers and quality of students enrolled as Classical majors significantly increased in the 1930s.

Since many Westernized musical elites also dedicated their efforts to Chinese classical music, like Huangzi, Xiao Youmei and Liu Xue’an, traditional aesthetic norms were not totally abandoned or challenged by Westernized professionals. They were actually embodied in many of the Western style works of these composers. Although the live musical realm witnessed a fairer forum for musicians, the recording market took neither

Western nor Chinese traditional values of virtuosic playing, but calculated the winner based on commercial principles. Therefore, it is understandable for those who trained for decades in the old way, yet gained recognition, would bitterly protest the

113

“usurpers” who rose overnight within the new rules. This situation still remains today, the conservatoire musicians with their chronic complaints on the disparity comparing their monthly salary, after decades of training, to one-night income of pop stars’ concerts.

Whether in the 1930s or now, professional musicians often face the decline of recognition, when standards for evaluation their music become more obscure to the public. Whereas the success of pop stars relies on marketing and media which forge the daily popular opinions with commercial ends. Meanwhile, pop stars remain subject to the harm of the media and popular culture, which explains why Li’s music fell so thoroughly into the bog of ideology. Similarly, today the most famous pop musicians frequently appear in the Chinese media as non-musical news: on the one hand this is the characteristic of entertainment media, the reporters usually have no musical training; on the other, not much space is given to discuss pop stars in terms of their musical virtuosity.

As a basis for how and by what standards music or musicians are evaluated, there is also a division between ethic and morality of music. Ethical criteria come from professional norms and artistic or aesthetic values, while morality is non-musical value imposed by power. If we borrow the original meaning of U.S. yellow journalism, the term yellow music should act as a warning to non-musical power ruling over music, such as commercial profits and political aims. However, this term was used for morality

114 in China, as a continuation of mimi zhiyin.

In reflecting the ideology of Nie Er, Jones captured the feature of the left-wing media as creating ideology “ex nihilo.”127 which epitomized Chinese modernization.

Meanwhile, Jones projects a Chinese Jazz Age as the reality for the 1920s and 1930s

China. However, was there really a “Chinese jazz age?” To what degree does jazz characterize this period? How would the public comment on the authentic jazz, instead of Li’s “jazzy popular songs?” What was exactly the Chinese jazz?

Chen unveils the reality of the “classical jazz” played by the first local jazz band in Shanghai. The scores were usually purchased from the Filipino and U.S. bands who performed in Shanghai, and the popular songs of Chen Gexin (陈歌辛), Yao Min (姚敏) as well as Li Jinhui, would also have appeared in the arrangement. Players of classical music, played music strictly according to the notation, with no improvisation involved.

Only the orchestration could be considered jazz. Thus, the authentic jazz was enjoyed exclusively by foreign and Chinese top-class. The disparate income and lifestyles between the top and lower classes thus greatly isolated jazz from the Chinese public.

The same as in ancient times, mimi zhiyin existed merely in the imaginations of common people.

127 Jones, Yellow Music, 108

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2.1.3. Nie Er and Li Jinhui

To turn to the traditional musical morality discussed at the beginning of this chapter, Nie Er, as the critical figure who contracted popular music of that time with music to perdition, or mimi zhiyin. In fact, as Li’s colleague and student, he was not the first one who linked Li Jinhui with this ancient tale. In 1931, a clergy of the tax department next door to Li Jinhui’s company heard songs from a rehearsal, noted to

Nie with the last two stanzas of Du Mu’s poem.128 Although this remark showed no immediate effect on Nie’s collaboration with Li, it influenced his decision to study composition. Omitting a discussion on how greatly traditional norms influenced a critical stance Nie took, Jones attributes the January 28 Incident129 happened in Shanghai

1932, caused Nie to criticize Li’s yellow music:

Nie Er’s first ideological target in the wake of his battle-triggered revelation was not so much Western classical music, but yellow music, the popular hybrid of jazz and Chinese folk melody pioneered by his own teacher and patron, Li Jinhui. Indeed, just six months after the Japanese attack on Shanghai, Nie Er, using the pseudonym Black Angel (Hei tianshi), published a series of scathing critiques of the “decadence” and “political passivity”130

Jones gives the same weight Nie’s musical criticism of the two concepts,

“decadence” and “political passivity.” Decadence was a common term in traditional condemnations; whereas political passivity hinted at polarization of concepts under the

128 Hong Dao, “The Life in Self-Learning Music of Nie Er in Shanghai,” People’s Music 4 (1954): 15. 129 January 28 Incident (一·二八事变) of 1932, part of Japanese invasion plan. This incident featured a sudden attack initialed by Japanese army on Zhabei (闸北) district of Shanghai. 130 Jones, Yellow Music, 107.

116 impact of the Cold War, which was common in critiques after 1950, fifteen years after the death of Nie. Nie’s original writings never apply the term yellow music. Instead, he uses terms like “red men and green women (红男绿女)” or “fragrant, enchanting and fleshy (香艳肉感),” which frequently appear in traditional literary works to render eye- catching figures within an indulgent ambience of extravagant entertainments.

One of Nie’s article was republished in 1955 in People’s Music, the core journal of the Chinese Musicians’ Association. An introduction was added by the editor, which suggests that Li’s so-called “music for musical sake” and “artistic education” was in fact a mask of yellow art.131 Thus, the ideology of yellow music had not yet formed in Nie’s time, and the traditional concepts remained at the core of musical morality in the 1930s.

This assertion was made based on the fact that the term yellow music did not appear until 1945. And behind this term, the unique moral standards of Mainland China during the Cold War were products of the 1950s. And in 1959, these standards established its new configuration.

131 Nie Er, “A Brief Discussion in Chinese Dance and Song” People’s Music no. 9 (1955), 5.

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2.2. 1959

The year 1959 was fruitful for Colombia Records in the United State, with the release of three legendary recordings: Dave Brubeck’s Time Out, Charles Mingus’s

Mingus Ah Um, and Miles Davis’ Kind of Blue, along with Ornette Coleman’s The Shape of

Jazz to Come (Atlantic Records), marking the beginning of the modern jazz era. Just released from the Second Red Scare (1947—1956), the achievements in jazz seemed like an auspicious sign for American society. In the following two decades, the word jazz was hotly debated. African American musicians actively joined this debate, which led to a trend of redefining jazz in the United States, and yielded ideas of serious jazz, or real jazz.

Meanwhile in China, 1959 was the year to step into a long, realistic nightmare.

This dramatic turning point for China proved again the disparate capacities of going through upheavals of modernization, contrasting those of American society. In this year, China was already in a historical vortex with complex currents; the international situation was not favorable. First, the Cuban Revolution pushed the Cold War into a new stage, under which circumstance, polarizing ideologies became a global trend.

In 1958, Nikita Khrushchev became the prime minster of the Soviet Union. His negation against Stalin irritated Mao Zedong, the leader of China at that moment. This irritation was not from Mao’s admiration of Stalin; to the contrary, Mao had serious

118 disagreement with him in many issues. But the negation against Starlin symbolized the fall of an absolute power, an ominous sign for Mao at the edge of a desperate political struggle inside China’s communist government. While Mao attempted to strengthen his own power, opportunists inside of the party sought to promote their own positions, and to eliminate their competitors.

Likewise, in the musical societies, amateur musicians saw an opportunity to overthrow the authority of professional and conservatoire musicians. Bitter critiques and trials became a trend in the media and academia. Chinese society was thus strained against inquisitions on loyalty and purity of “revolution” towards more extreme conditions, in which the definition of revolution varied according to the will of those in power.

2.2.1. The Word “Jazz”

The decade of the 1950s sentenced the term, jueshi yue (爵士乐, jazz) as taboo in the new musical morality in Mainland China. In Chinese, jueshi (爵士) means duke, and yue meant music, which misled some Chinese people who would relate jazz with aristocrat life styles. The term jueshi yue appeared as early as 1932, in a prose by Zhu

Ziqing (朱自清, 1898-1948), who described a piece of music with intense rhythm and

119 passionate emotion, however, popular in Venice.132 No evidence remains for who was first to translate jazz to jueshi yue, but this term persists until now.

In 1920s, most Chinese people knew nothing of jazz. Coming from the United

States, Whitey Smith was one of the most qualified agents in front of the Chinese public in presenting this new form of music. Before Valaida Snow landed in Shanghai, Smith’s music formed a preoccupation with jazz for Shanghai’s international public. Although his presentation would finally prove misleading, the activities of musicians of his kind shaped the earliest Chinese concepts of jazz, based on which, the term jueshi yue was contracted with Li Jinhui and yellow music.

The Korean War in 1950 was the direct reason why jazz was banned in the

Mainland. At that moment, the music media, affiliated with the political propaganda, launched a campaign against the American culture.

…the indulgent and corrupted US culture loaded with imperialism was once encroaching the soul of some Chinese people. Along with the lewd, vulgar, malicious, and narcotic movies, the despicable and gloomy jazz was conveyed. Many young people were drugged and lost their rationality and conscience in listening to this kind of obscene tune and rhythm. A quintessential derivative of jazz, the Chinese yellow music escalated the narcotize from the general civilian milieu to some young students.133

132 Zhu Ziqing, “Venice,” All about My Trip in Europe, written in 1932 and published in 1934, accessed Bibliowiki February 21, 2018. https://biblio.wiki/wiki/歐遊雜記 133 People’s Music Editors, “Mobilized! Recruiting Musical Workers All Over the Country to Join in the Call for Fighting Against the Americans, Helping the Korean People, and Defensing Our Homeland.” People’s Music no. 4 (1950), 7.

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From then on, more articles criticized the imagined life-style, or attitudes, symbolized by jazz. In 1951, another article, entitled “American Jazz: the so-Called

Elements of “American Life Style,”134 called the public’s attention to jazz. In such writings, jazz was defined based on its social function rather than on its musical traits, and writers reviled the life-style of its consumers rather than categorizing the role of the musicians. This message was rooted in Chinese impressions of “jazz” played in 1920s and 1930s Shanghai, which demonstrates a return of musical morality during the Cold

War period. Regardless of its moral stance, was this Chinese concept very different from how jazz was defined in 1920s America? Or was the American definition of jazz in

1920s similar to the one today?

In the early 1920s, the “King of Jazz” was Paul Whiteman (1890-1967), who was the most famous band leader for popular dance music. Whiteman’s entitlement as the

“King of Jazz” reveals the definition of jazz of American media at that time. And that definition, tagging a bundle of genres active in metropolitan nightlife, threw a broad range of genres into the category of jazz, which is focused more narrowly today. The term jazz was coined by the society, according to its function and the venues where it was played. And this name was implemented and promoted by the music industry as a tool for marketing.

134 Wu Yongyi, “The American Jazz: the So-Called One of the Elements of the American Life Style,” People’s Music no. 2 (1951), 6-7.

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Charles Tolliver once said, “it’s a word which was given to the music we’re playing by the people who control the music we’re playing.”135 This tag, once referred all kinds of nightclub music, narrowed greatly since 1930s down to solely naming the

African American tradition. And the names of luminaries like Louis Armstrong, Duke

Ellington, and Ella Fitzgerald had overshadowed segregation in recording industry.

This term’s new focus showed a victory of African American musicians in gaining recognition for their talent and expressiveness. Dizzy Gillespie addressed this victory as the fairness of history.

History will either off you or make you valid. History has wiped Stan Kenton out completely, they thought he was a master, they thought he was greater than Duke Ellington, and that motherfucker couldn’t even keep time.136

Not until the 1960s, when jazz musicians re-define this genre in the context of the

Civil Rights movement, did the concept of jazz as we accept it today appear. Under an umbrella of African American music, a cloud of narratives expressed diverse ideals and dedication. At this point, the term jazz was a beam of light shed on a coarse and uneven plane with a diffused reflection, shed on a fuzzy impression, not defined anymore, as what we called jazz today.

Following this diffusion, discussions on this term and the membership for the jazz community were developed after the peak of the Civil Rights movements. The

135 Arthur Taylor, Notes and Tones: Musician-to-Musician Interviews (New York: Da Capo Press 1993), 76. 136 Ibid, 126-127.

122 thoughts and critiques of African American jazz musicians were expressed and published in unprecedented number. Multiple aspects of jazz, its role in society, the nature of the music, the rules, and norms its community followed, or the ideals and protest of its members—all thoroughly explored and re-defined. Max Roach explained the etymology of jazz as:

“It came from French. It was spelled j-a-s-s. A jass house was a house of ill repute. In those days they also called them bawdy houses. This was where the great Louis Armstrong and people of his caliber and those before him and an opportunity to work before a public audience.”137

Ron Carter said, “It means ‘intercourse.’ Down South they believe it was short for a guy named Charles: Chas.”138 Sonny Rollins mentioned, “at one time it used to mean fornication.”139 These remarks disclosed the prostitution and obscenity implications in the etymology of jazz. Or, like in the phrase “all that jazz” meaning ec cetera, the word jazz implies a sum of things, and often negative, like in the sentence

“don’t give me all that jazz,” meant “don’t give me those nonsense.” Combined with its sexual implication, the word jazz probably originated from New Orleans slang and was referring to a cluster of things you could hear in brothels and nightclubs.

In term of this, the word jazz was the American term equivalent to yellow music in China. Its use, promoted by the music industry from the 1910s to the 1920s, sounds

137 Ibid, 109. 138 Ibid, 62. 139 Ibid, 165.

123 sarcastic rather than an encouragement towards African American musicians, who had just found a better livelihood from it. Similar to the black-face minstrel show, the use of the word jazz to designate this music was an irony for the musical talent of African

American musicians, and demonstrated the once unbreakable racial hierarchy of the society who had coined it. Eddie Lockjaw Davis had noted, “the whole thing wrong with jazz is that it was created by blacks in the states. Our music was created because the black man had nothing else.140”

In the turn of 1960s and 1970s, many African American jazz musicians tended to reject the positioning of jazz made by the music industry. Johnny Griffin claimed in

1969 that “they (the musical critics) don’t know anything about jazz. They’re not jazz musicians.”141 Some of the musicians also redefined the word jazz, or the music they were playing. Max Roach argued that “The music that has been created and developed by musicians of African descent who are in America” 142 is more appropriate than the word jazz by him. Roach Randy Weston remarks “when I had no idea of being a musician, jazz for me was the music of the black people and it was free, creative and swinging.”143 Eddie Lockjaw Davis considered jazz as “an outlet, a form of expression, a relief, a relaxation and a listening pleasure.”144 Tony Williams believed that “jazz is like

140 Ibid, 89. 141 Ibid, 68. 142 Ibid, 110-111. 143 Ibid, 29. 144 Ibid, 86.

124 a life-style.”145 This cloud of narratives, around the word jazz, was pioneered by the four records released in 1959, which hinted an identity as jazz musician emerging from the coda of the 1950s.

2.2.2. The Story of Yellow Music

The first use of the term, yellow music, was in 1945 by Yang Qi (杨琦),146 targeting on a song by Liu Xuean (刘雪庵, 1905-1985), called “Red Bean Poem (红豆

词).”147 The lyrics of this song is a poem by Cao Xueqin (曹雪芹, 1715—1763 AD), who presented it in his novel Dream of Red Mansion (红楼梦), expressing the overwhelming sorrow from longing and the poem. In Cao’s novel, this poem also appears as a song sung by the main character, which hints at the tragic end of the story. In 1943, Liu composed the music in Chong Qing (重庆) for a play based on this novel, which originally scripted a scene of the “Red Bean Poem.” Although not used in the performance, this song became very popular among students.148

This work can be considered an ideal combination of modern imagination and traditional poetic music. It was a unique case for an academic art song to reach major

145 Ibid, 161. 146 Chen Peng, “‘Yellow Music’: Historical Interpretation on the Vocabulary Come Out Modern Times,” Huangzhong no. 3 (2013), 84-90. 147 José Carreras sings Hong Dou Ci (Red Bean Poem) with English subtitle. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W9owX9sn6IQ 148 Liu Xuean, Interview by Liang Maochun, Beijing, January 23, 1980, accessed April 26, 2018, http://www.360doc.cn/article/30969101_538894863.html.

125 popularity in the public at that time. Long-term partisan contests had led to harsh criticism of Liu’s music. A previous dispute between two camps of musicians brewed a disaster for Liu Xuean and his music.149 These two camps were the xueyuan pai (学院派, academic musical elites), featuring the students of Huang Zi (黄自) and the jiuwang pai

(救亡派, left-wing patriots), featuring Communist composers and musical critics like

Xian Xinghai (冼星海) and Zhang Shu (张曙). In 1938, musicians from various institutions in occupied Shanghai were forced to withdraw to Wu Han (武汉). Due to the collaboration between the National Party and Communist Party, xueyuan pai and jiuwang pai formed an alliance for creating anti-invasion musical works. However, the undercurrent conflicts between these two camps were not dissolved by their brief collaboration, but intensified with frictions that came out of interactions. Once facing the shared threaten from Japanese invasion, the suppressed conflict between National

Party and Communist Party broke out explicitly after 1945, which resurged the struggles among various subgroups affiliated with these two parties. Under this circumstance, music was often the victim of absurd accusation and denouncements in the media.

After Liu Xuean became the first victim of yellow music, another of his songs,

“When Would You Be Back” (何日君再来) soon received even more acute criticisms. In

149 Li Li and Tian Kewen, “1938: Musicians’ Disputes and Confrontation in Wuhan, and the Activities of Liu Xuean,” China’s Music no. 3 (2012), 32-35.

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1932, Liu Xuean composed a piece of music in tango style, which was adopted for the movie Sanxing Banyue (三星伴月) in 1938, with the lyrics and the title of the song given by the screenwriter. Liu complained privately to friends about the lyrics and title imposed on his music, but did not insist on any change.150 In 1939, a movie directed by left-wing director, Cai Chusheng (蔡楚生), Paradise in the Solitary Island, adopted this music again. Solitary island was a metaphor for the concession area during the Japanese annexation from 1937 to 1941, and the movie called for resistance against Japanese invasion.

Thus, when singer Yamaguchi Yoshiko (山口淑子, Chinese name Li Xianglan, 李

香兰) sang this song in 1940, she was interrupted by Japanese policemen who considered the lyrics “when would you come again” as to imply “when would the

Chinese come back to the reign again.” The speculation on who “you” refers to in this song entailed a long-term inquisition for Liu Xuean. For the Nationalists, since

Yamaguchi Yoshiko sang this song in Japanese, it was viewed as the music of a spy.

Even as Liu was not charging for the text, nor the designation of singers, he was considered traitor. Thus, When Would You Come Again was banned by the Nationalists.

After 1949, “you” was somehow interpreted as the communists, then this song was banned in Taiwan until the 1980s.

150 Chen Futian, “Liu Xuean and ‘When Would You be Back’” Century no. 4 (1997), 42-43.

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While in post-1949 Mainland, this song was considered yellow music until the

1980s, partly due to its tango style, and more for that “you” were interpreted by the communist critics as the Nationalists. But this condemnation was based on lyrics, regardless which was not written by the composer at all. Ironically, Yang Qi, the inventor of the term yellow music, stressing the obscenity of this song’s tango style until

1970s, wrote in 1962 another article praising Latin American music (in which he mentions the song Anahí,151 which was sung by the Argentina actress Lolita Torres).

In the decade from 1956 to 1966, sanctions on yellow music were made with greatest intensity. Jazz, as well as many other entertainment musical genres, no matter

Occidental or Oriental, were put into this category. The expansion of the term yellow music reached its peak in 1958, which foresaw an imminent crisis in the art world. In the musical circle, a conference held in 1957 explained the ignition of war in the media of 1950s China. A record of this conference was published in People’s Music, the most important forum for the discussion of music from 1950s to 1990s.152 This document, disclosed the discontent of professional musicians towards the politicalized institution of the Chinese Musicians Association (中国音乐家协会). Liu Xuean was the first speaker at the conference. He complained about his delayed acceptance into the Association,

151 Yang Qi, “The Well-Broadcasted Asian, African and Latin American Music,” People’s Music no. 7 (1962), 20. 152 Anonymous reporter, “Telling the Truth: Composers’ Keen Critics toward the Musicians’ Association.” People’s Music no. 6 (1957), 2-3.

128 questioning the designation of principles that ignored musical value, but partially stressed their partisan interest.

As a continuation of the dispute between xueyuan pai and jiuwang pai, the struggle since the 1950s fell between the camps. The acute criticism of Liu Xuean irritated the counter part of his camp, and also brought him into an ambush of disasters.

His tragic fate also shared by many brilliant figures from the academic world. For enhancing the power of politicians in academic and artistic occupations, a vast sanction against immorality emerged in the wake of Culture Revolution.

During the two decades of 1950s and 1960s, the meaning of yellow music was redefined again and again. Started with its association with obscenity, the domain of yellow rolled like a snow ball, reaching further to mean passiveness, indulgence, un- cooperative, pleasure, and even pure art. As more genres were engulfed by the term yellow music, a polarization of colors was finalized by a binary opposition of red versus other colors. In the novel Nineteen Eighty-Four, George Orwell presents his imagination over the New Speaks, a conceptual dictatorship by simplifying language. For example, synonymous and antonyms of good are planned to be deleted until only good and not good remain. As a result, the reduction of vocabulary simplifies the concepts of the people, and decreases their memory. During the polarization of red and other colors, a tendency towards red and not red had driven concept of Chinese language, as more and more colors, along with yellow, fell into the taboo in the new morality.

129

This tendency was initiated by the world-wide polarization of Cold War. A long preparation before 1959 of the fate of China also disclosed many alternative chances to avoid the disaster of the 1960s. Before 1951, capitalism was not totally refused by the

Chinese Communist party. As a policy claiming the identity different from the Soviet

Union, the government promoted cooperation with the local merchants, and incorporated capitalist elements into the restoration of the economy. The encounter of the Chinese army in Korea with U.S. military troops dramatically changed the attitudes of the Communist officials. And as the U. S. practiced the containment theory, China deviated from its original moderate plan, into an extremist ideology. The year 1959 found the country falling irreversibly into extremist ideology after failing to solve social and political disputes. But extremism cannot last long in reality. In 1972, when

President Richard Nixon visited China, the polarized ideology was about to collapse.

With the opening policy (改革开放) launched in 1978, China prepared to revise her concepts and path.

2.3. A Modernization Built on Calques

As a phrase born and catalyzed by colonial modernization, yellow music was yielded by a mixed sense towards the pair of opposition—the East and the West. This mixed sense involved fare, resistance, curiosity, crave and violence from the native

Chinese while facing force, alienization, stereotype and ambition for conquering from

130 the West. This is to say, yellow music is not merely a defamation on Chinese popular music and its composers, but also an evidence for the sophisticated nature of colonial modernization. Since many of the basic concepts of Chinese modernization came from the English words translated into Chinese, the huge gap between these two linguistic systems made modern China an impressionist West. The translated word from one language toward another is called calque, thus became the core issue of the colonial modernization. That is, this modernization was built on unstable concepts. But was the stability of concepts needed for modernization?

A calque is a word appeared in another language through translation. The nature of Chinese language limited its possibility to use loan words (foreign words which are directly adopted, like café in English) lead to the process of Westernization had to be done based on concepts expressed by calques. Like many other calques in Chinese, huangse xinwen (黄色新闻), or yellow journalism, entails a perplex evolution of meanings. This evolution, involved American connotations and the interpretation of this object based on the original semantics of the Chinese context, was fermented in a train of historical events. And finally staged on the Cold War moral plays when huge population from rural China filled into the urban area, due to the dramatic decline of cities during war time. The use of yellow, replaced pink, as a synonym of obscene was initially after a train of evolving of the calque huangse xinwen. In yellow music, yellow turned to refer to mimi (indulgent) as mimi zhiyin. Then the combined connotation of

131 mimi and yellow was pushed to the peak from 1950s to 1960s by the Cold War, and was debated since the opening policy in the late 1970s. In the end the color yellow reduced to mean obscenity in the term sweeping yellow (扫黄) since 1980s.

Emerged from the first collision of the East with the West during the modernization tide of twentieth century, the case like yellow music was not rare at all. It is one of the recurrent phenomenon in world-wide history that reveals how the meta- narrations of arts dominated by the momentums of the contending powers.

Metaphorically speaking, this term manifested a victory of the Western colonialism over traditional Chinese ideology, however, it was ironically used as the very important tool for anti-capitalism movement in the arts realm during the Cold War period. Just like what Edward Said suggested, colonialism didn’t assimilate cultures, but sophisticate them.153

Associated with the ethnology study in nineteenth century, the arbitrary classification of Mongoloid, Caucasoid and Negroid enveloped the fate of the “yellow race”—the East Asians when facing the expansion of the West. For the white colonists in nineteenth century, the land of the yellow race, once mysterious and rich, was ready to be conquered. For the “yellow race,” the “Mongoloid” for the whites, who were overwhelmed by the advancement of the Western invaders, colonialism shed a color of

153 Bill Ashcroft and Pal Ahluwalia, Edward Said: The Paradox of Identity, (New York: Routledge 1999), 10-13.

132 shame on their skin—the shame for the failure of self-protection, the shame for ancient civilizations defeated by technology upstart, the shame for being loser. Hence force, yellow meant shame. It was shame pushing Westernization into the concept of Chinese people, who were desperately questing means for survival. And this shame further facilitated colonialism to yield a deformed modernization, which, although initiated by the yellows themselves, challenged and abandoned traditional values.

Happened almost in the same period, yellow journalism in China flourished much longer and left more profound impact in the political structure than in the United

States. Firstly, the American yellow journalism intrigued more independent norms born in the ethnic of the professional news industry, which in the end brought a clearer division between serious and entertaining presses. But in China, yellow journalism, although with its new, and Western elements, still fell into the traditional sensationalism, and its main point was for gaining political power. Whereas the competition between Pulitzer and Hearst, the scandalization and sensationalism were used for boosting the sells, and their aim is in obtaining economic power. This mirrored a true picture of the Chinese modernization before 1949, that a country used new words to redefine her old concepts, and those concepts used by political parties to contradict each other, through which, conduct power contest.

The application of the refreshing Western terms to redefine traditional Chinese concept entailed a chaos in the whole ideological structure. First of all, Western

133 vocabulary existed in the Western logical context, while China had her own logical system. When inserted into a totally different context, single vocabulary inherited the links of the concept possessed by the substituted word, and extended its semantics according to the historical process of the new environment, instead of the origin of the calques. For example, yellow journalism referred to sensationalism and fake news appeared in malicious competition under its American context. This definition on publications was a criticism appeared in a society where journalism has its considerable independency, and the freedom of speech was conventionally accepted by the public.

From this perspective, the criticism on yellow journalism was also a reconceptualization of freedom of speech, which stressed that freedom is not equal to “do whatever you want.”

Before the modernization of language happened in China, freedom was translated as “the philosophy of the boundary between the rights of individuals and the communities (群己权界论).” Another translation of freedom is zi you (自由), a term literarily means freedom, but neglected the reason why this long been invented word was signified again in modern Western thoughts. Nevertheless, this disturbing translation became the standard Chinese explanation for freedom, which finally intrigued massive interpretation and misuses. A few intellectuals like Hu Shi and Cai

Yuanpei noticed the necessity of clarifying the real Western concepts under the form of calque. But they still could not circumvent the challenge from bridging the Western and

134 the Chinese conceptual contexts, otherwise, the Western thought would not be understood by the Chinese. They tried to promote a more in-depth comprehension of those imported concepts by debates with all camps of intellectuals. However, the tide of revolution and the urge of territory crisis submerged their effort. Science and democracy, as called by Hu Shi as Mr Scie and Mr De (赛先生和德先生), were reduced to slogans of partisan movements.

In the ideology of the revolutionists from both Nationalist Party and Communist

Party, feudalism means all about the past of China. Thus, democracy was often used as a tool for overthrow the old and establish the new. This term is another evidence for the perplexed concepts brought by calques. The etymology of feudalism (封建主义) in

China should be retrieved to Tang Dynasty, in an article by Liu Zongyuan (柳宗元), named “an Essay on Feudalism (封建论).” In this article, the feudalism discussed by Liu was the lineage principle of Zhou Dynasty and Han Dynasty, which divided a country into increasing number of fiefs, and the lineage was centered on primogeniture. But there is a flaw for feudalism that the lineage of fiefs always entailed threaten towards the central power. For maintaining a centralized power, hierarchy was stressed generation after generation, and it suppressed the attempts to power by anyone else than the emperor. Therefore, hierarchy should be the real target for the slogan

“abolishment of feudalism.”

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When anti-feudalism slogans flagged around the revolution troops, the questionable use of the term was not contemplated. So why was this slogan so affective in recruiting supporters? Hierarchy appeared as a rewarding system for the one on the top. The ambition towards power was never worn out by suppression, the endless rebellion and coups were the best evidence for this. And the results of those rebellions were nothing more than another dynasty. This kind of rebellion thinking was captured by Sima Qian as early as the 1st century BC, in his description of the leaders of a revolt around 3rd century BC said that “how could you know that kings and generals always have more guts?”154

The unreliable concept for the Chinese modernization was not only a proof for the problem of calques, but also reflected the core of modernization—polarization. This polarization was firstly a result of colonialism. Under the global colonial activity since fifteenth century, ideologies from multiple regions collided with each other in a speed never been reached before. These rapid collisions gradually condensed the once intricated conceptual world into the prototype of a two-dimensional ideological world, the West and the rest. For colonists, the alien existence of the natives and risks living in the colonies urged them to identify themselves from the natives by violence and coercion. For the natives, the colonists were both catastrophe and opportunity. This

154 “王侯将相宁有种” is a famous quote of Chen Sheng (陈胜, ?—208 BC) by Sima Qian, in his chapter “Chenshe Shijia (陈涉世家)” of Shi Ji (94 BC) 司马迁《史记·陈涉世家》

136 two-side story of colonialism finally brewed a tide of modernization, one for further expansion, the others for surviving, for defense, and for becoming the former one.

Secondly, this polarization has a long root in Judeo-Christian religions. The initiation of modernization is inextricable from the Protestant activity in sixteenth century. Capitalism is the theme in modernism. And its rise in Europe was inaugurated by those Protestant countries in the era of Reformation. Max weber attributes ascetism to be the spiritual tie between Protestant and capitalism. And this spiritual tie infiltrated into the moral standards of the modern world, which helped to shape a new hierarchy globally. As he said, “for when ascetism was carried out of monastic cells into everyday life, and began to dominate worldly morality, it did its parts in building the tremendous cosmos of the modern economic order.”155 Originated from Calvinism, ascetism was practiced by the Protestants for identifying themselves as superior than the “corrupted

Catholic staff.” In China, ascetism was considered by the communist modernization as one of the standards for evaluating the “revolutionary ethic (革命精神)” of a “comrade

(同志).” Comrade is one of the words underlining the hierarchy and polarized concepts of the society of the Cold War China. Since the revolutionary ethic, ascetism, belongs to comrade, any pursue on material is sin. This ethnic was extremized and distorted

155 Max Weber, The Protestant Ethnic and the Spirit of Capitalism, trans, Talcott Parsons, (Mineola: NY: Dover Publications 2003), 181.

137 during the Cultural Revolution, resulted in death and prosecutions of huge population, only due to possessing properties.

Furthermore, modernism inherited the monotheism form from Judeo-Christian religions. This heritage reflected by the global modernization process as the quest of one single authority, in ideology and in politics. Monotheism was the core of rise, fall, war and peace of the world around Judeo-Christian religious. However, it unfolded the complexity of the world, instead of condensing it. From Jacob moved out of the Middle

East to Moses announced Torah, from the rise of Hebrew religion to the advent of Jesus, from the Edict of Milan to the East-West Schism, the quest of the only authority in interpreting god gave rise various new powers. Although these new powers kept the ambition of eliminating others, they were always being juxtaposed in the west part of the Euro-Asian Continent. In the timeline of modernization, Protestant was born from

Catholic religion; republics were born from kingdoms or empires; and communism was one of the products of capitalism. All these things, although struggled, contending with, and attempting to eradicate each other, are still coexisting in this world.

But modernization did escalate the conflicts between ideologies, by pulling them closer and inserting ambiguous and questionable boundaries between them. A more definitive concept of territory was established by modernization. There was never a time like now, the land of this planet was divided so exhaustively. For example, before

British colonization of India, there was not a unified India, and were many small

138 countries between China and Indian states, and the boundaries were never clear due to the affiliation of those states to Qing government or to some northern Indian states.

During colonizing period, the British India unified and expanded. Those small countries were swallowed up into the new Indian territory. Thus, there were no boundary disputes between China and India since these two countries were not adjacent until the British Lieutenant-Colonel, Henry McMahon, based on a modern ideology, or a strategy facing the opportunity of the Tibetan coup in 1910s, proposed and imposed the famous McMahon Line between India and China.

The dispute between China and India around McMahon Line brought the term a san (阿三) in to modern Chinese language. A san, literarily means “the third one,” was originally a negation word referring to the Indian policemen in Old Shanghai. This term was originally coined for satirizing the hierarchy in the international settlement. And the first two listed before “the third one,” the Indians, were first, the European and the

American White; the second, the Japanese. Since the Cold War period, this term appeared again and again as long as the boarder issue reached a crisis, and the media of both countries starting to denounce each other. India, the origin of Chinese Buddhism, where the Buddha lives, and once the paradise (西天), the purest land (净土), and the place of eternal happiness (极乐之地) referred by many Chinese words, fell in to the junks of negative concepts in modern China.

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The Chinese modernization has witnessed the distortion by colonial, national, political, and linguistic forces on the links between reality and concepts. And those forces cut off the continuation of the past way the concepts linking with the reality.

Meanwhile, with the convenience brought by calque, a new hierarchy, embodied by moral codes, was established and enhancing the new authority. Also, due to its deprived from the reality, the structure of the concepts, although could only exist briefly, threw the whole society into a catastrophe. In the United States, its social structure depends so much on material that the two times of Red Scares resulted in a limited influence, and lasted much shorter comparing with China. The historical background of musical morality and the poor material condition of China prepared a brewery for an ideological dominance to last longer and stronger.

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PART II. A JAZZ REVIVAL IN BEIJING

Chapter Three: The 1980s

From the 1940s to the 1970s, the concept of jazz had experienced a fundamental change in the American music circle. Whereas in China, this period of time was covered by a vacuum of jazz. When jazz reemerged in China in the 1980s, some local musicians, from classical or traditional musical community, viewed this “molted” genre with curiosity and adoration. Meanwhile, a trend of post-modernism emerged in Beijing during the second half of 1980s, which heralded a review in history, and entailed the introspection of the unsolved dilemmas of China in the earlier modernizing process. A comparatively peaceful environment of 1980s East Asian posed no major threat of survival to China; under this circumstance, concepts were tested and contemplated; the color, yellow, was readdressed and appeared as representing Chinese culture again.

In the musical world, a review of the foundations of morality began as early as the end of the 1970s. Into the 1980s, moral doctrines were proved to be in vain for discerning the value of un-classifiable genres. In Beijing, the intellectual center of 1980s’

China, people fell into a chaos of ideology. They found a recurrent dilemma barring them again, East or West, “to be or not to be.” Polemics, puzzles, and introspections, accompanied by rapid development, were addressed in the ever-changing tones of morality, ideology, and the arts projected a full spectrum of narratives into the society.

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3.1. A Change in Tone

In September 1976, the death of Chairman Mao Zedong heralded the termination of the old epoch, inaugurating a new era of restoration, reforms, and openness. Starting in 1977, revisions on the cases wrongly executed during the Cultural Revolution gradually evolved into a movement. By the light of this movement, musicians who survived the Cultural Revolution hoped for justice. Along with the return of justice, many banned musical works also re-gained recognition.

Those “politically correct” works, banned by the Gang of Four only due to partisan struggles, were the first to be redressed, such as the case of the soundtracks of the movie, Nanjing Yangzi River Bridge (南京长江大桥, 1969). In August 1969, these soundtracks were accused as criminal by Yao Wenyuan (姚文元, 1931—2005, a member of the Gang of Four). He claimed that one piece of the melodies was from a song called

“Lenin Hills (列宁山),” which Yao considered taboo, due to its, somehow, revisionist (修

正主义) tone.

In 1978, this case was reviewed by the Organization Department of the

Communist Party of China (中共中央组织部), an institute charged for reviewing political executions occurring during the Cultural Revolution since 1978. Once the case was rehabilitated, an article entitled “Looted by Cultural Despotism (文化专制主义的一

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场洗劫)”156 was published in People’s Music, unveiling the whole story of the soundtrack’s banning and its revision. A year later, People’s Music published another article, “Why the Taboo is Still Unbreakable? (禁区为什么还未能突破)” by Guang Yuan

(广源), called for a more thorough liberation of the musical creativity and questioned the efficiency of restoring artistic freedom. This article lists art songs composed in folk style, like “Why are Flowers so Red? (花儿为什么这样红)” “Shepherdess (牧羊姑娘),”

“Treat me to a Rose (送我一支玫瑰花)” and demanded the lift of art songs from the category of yellow music.

3.1.1. Qing Yinyue: The Light Music

Guang Yuan’s article was one of the voices pioneering the advocation of a genre called shuqing gequ (抒情歌曲, song of romance) in the early 1980s. Love is often the common theme shared by these songs. As an art-song genre usually composed by the conservatoire musicians, shuqing gequ shares the theme with the later Chinese popular music called tongsu gequ (通俗歌曲). The advocation of shuqing gequ started a trend for inclusiveness in both music performances and criticism. Thanks to this trend, traditional and folk music, European and American Classical music and qing yinyue (轻音乐, light music), were encouraged by music media. Back in 1950s Chinese media, qing yinyue

156 Music Studio of the Central News and Documentary Film Producer, “Looted by Cultural Despotism,” People’s Music no. 2 (1979), 16-18.

143 was coined to refer to the counterpart of so-called serious music. This definition resembles the definition of popular music in Oxford Companion to Music, which summarizes popular music as anything “not classical.”

Although the division between “classical” or “serious” music and popular music remains clearly identifiable, critical appreciation of both worlds has increasingly overlapped.157

Presumably, a clear boundary lies between serious music and popular music, and anything non-classical is deemed not serious. The only dispute on the division of seriousness might come from the audiences’ attitude, rather than from the creative process of the music, but the world of Chinese music would likely fall into the category of popular music, since it falls outside the Western traditions.

However, in China, the classification between serious and light was more complicated. Theoretically speaking, Western classical and red classics (红色经典), traditional music and revolutionary songs (革命歌曲) are viewed as serious music. Red classics are works of patriotic themes, adopting either form of Western classical or

Beijing Opera, and often composed by Chinese composers with a communist background. From chamber or symphonic music like the piano concerto Huang He (黄

河, the Yellow River) to cantatas, vocal soloist, or Beijing operas (for example, Hongdeng

157 Oxford Companion to Music, 5th ed., s.v. “popular music,” accessed March 2, 2018, http://www.oxfordreference.com.proxy.library.kent.edu/view/10.1093/acref/9780199579 037.001.0001/acref-9780199579037-e-5287?fromCrossSearch=true

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Ji, 红灯记, the Legend of the Red Lantern), red classics ranged considerably in forms and styles. Revolutionary songs were partly composed by leftwing public music (群众歌

曲) artists, like Nie Er, and partly from folk tunes with lyrics praising the communist party or criticizing the old times. Musically speaking, these melodies fall into folk or popular genres, but the lyrics were viewed as serious by the officials.

Often political-oriented, the definitions on what was light, and what was serious varied according to different eras. This was especially true during the Cold War, when political struggle reached a formidable peak, and notions of what was righteous and what evil could shift overnight. For example, when a particular composer of a red classical piece was preferred by those in power, they would designate this music a red classic. If later the composer were convicted of having a “corrupted capitalist life style,” his or her music would be designated yellow music, unserious and immoral. Therefore, the reputation of composers were key criteria for evaluating their music in the pre-1980s

China. The same standards were applied to revolutionary songs. When the singers of particular revolutionary songs were considered to be comrades, their music was deemed revolutionary; when they were convicted as anti-revolutionaries, their music turns into anti-revolutionary.

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In 1958, qing yinyue was defined as “recreational music,” including folk songs, jazz, and popular music.158 At that time, there were still some articles suggesting a review and clarification of the categorical distinctions between yellow music and light music. But from 1959 on, voices supporting light music were muted by a deteriorated political situation, and light music genres, like jazz, began to disappear in bans.

Once the Cultural Revolution ended, the discussion on light music gradually returned, during the restoration of the musical journals and recreations. In 1979, the musical troop of the city Lv Da (旅大市, divided into Lvshun and Dalian in 1981) started giving light music concerts around the Liaoning Province (辽宁省). Their activity soon received the support of music critics like Yu Qingxin (于庆新) and Han Xi (寒溪). Since

1980, articles were published supporting the appearance of light music, and promoting more open and tolerant trends in musical creation and criticism.

This trend of musical criticism encouraged the resurgence of popular music in

Mainland China. By the middle 1980s, almost every major east coast city had a qing yinyue band. The growth of qing yinyue bands was also compelled by the transformation of the economic structure, since 1978, in which the budget funding regional performing troops, wengong tuan (文工团) and gewu tuan (歌舞团), shrank greatly, facing inflation and the general improvement of civil life during economic

158 Jiang Yan, “the Light Music,” People’s Music (1958 no. 4), 37.

146 reform. Under the threat of unemployment, a few troops sought opportunities in the rising world of music entertainment.

The Liaoning Province was the first to establish qing yinyue bands, then several appeared in the Guangdong Province, where the city Shenzhen (深圳) was the first to open trade with the outside world. These qing yinyue bands soon obtained considerable income through tours around the country. Seeing the popularity and commercial profits from qing yinyue concerts, more performing troops started to build this new type of band.

The growing number of qing yinyue bands brought new demands in importing repertoire, mainly through cassettes and records. Besides these, arrangements of folk songs and classical music with electric instruments and sounds, imported through

Hong Kong and Taiwan, comprised considerable portion of the repertoire played in early 1980s qing yinyue bands. European and American popular songs, soundtracks from Taiwanese TV episodes, the old Shanghai music, and Cantonese songs from Hong

Kong composed the main body of imported repertoire. With the increasing activities of qing yinyue bands, the tone of both the music and its media changed, although unexpectable by many Mainlanders.

While considerable numbers of musical critics still held onto previous moral codes, three “unacceptable types” of music were imported into the Mainland: 1) yellow

147 music, considered as immoral either for its lyrics or for its style of performance; 2) previously banned 1930s popular songs, or shidai qu (时代曲, music of the time, or fashionable songs); 3) the popular songs from Hong Kong and Taiwan, composed between the 1950s and 1970s, which reflected yet unresolved hostility towards the communist regime in Mainland.

The emergence of these three types of music in qing yinyue concerts alerted more conservative critics. The term, qing yinyue, was redefined continuously in the 1980s, and gradually, two sub-groups of qing yinyue were classified: the good and the bad.

The good qing yinyue was called “healthy music,” that is, having morality and for refined tastes, possessing educational value and inspiring joy and positivity; the bad qing yinyue was called “unhealthy,” lewd music, inducing audiences to indulgence and

“obscurity.”159 This distinction between good and bad music reflected the still enduring moralism in musical criticism. The definition for moral music was noticeably inherited from ancient tales of mimi zhiyin, and “obscurity” became a new negative sign, which is to say, music beyond the knowledge of critics was also immoral. Catalyzed by the new moral interpretation, the discussion on qing yinyue reached a height in 1983.

159 Xiao Xing, “What Kind of Musical Culture Should We Promote: Criticizing the Spirit and Tones in the 1980s,” People’s Music 04 (1981), 5-7.

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3.1.2. A Review of Yellow

Coinciding with the rise of a new reformist camp inside the Communist Party, the discussion in music escalated into a political struggle, since the conservative camp was also formed correspondingly with the reform. In 1982, the Parliament passed a decision on a campaign against “anti-revolutionary, lewd and yellow music.” Once again, music, morality, and politics tangled; and once again, as it had in the 1950s,

People’s Music became the forum in which voices from the different powers could debate. In 1983, an article, entitled “In Reflections on Yellow Music,” published in

People’s Music by Tian Ting, who supported the moral enforcement of Parliament.

“Yellow” and “obscene” are two different concepts can be proofed by many cases. … Besides, during pre-Liberation160 period, we call the trade unions owned by the Nationalists “yellow union,” … But we can’t call them “obscene union.” … Surely when applied on music it (yellow) indicates political tendency which falls into the corrupted servants of feudalism, capitalist compradors and imperialism. 161

Tian’s article brought the 1980s back to the discussion on yellow music, but also provides new explanations for yellow, in which “revolutionary (革命, ge ming)” was more explicitly defined as the core of morality. The Cold War era had left the term revolutionary obscure and unpredictable criteria, through the succession of authority.

Anything related to the biggest threat of those in power was anti-revolutionary in the

160 The term Liberation (jie fang 解放) refers to the establishment of People’s Republic of China in Mainland. Conventionally, pre-Liberation (jie fang qian 解放前) means the history from 1912 to 1949, and post-Liberation (jie fang hou 解放后) means after 1949. 161 Tian Ting, “In Reflections on Yellow Music,” People’s Music no. 3 (1983), 85-86.

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Mainland. Into the early 1980s, although the Cold War ideology still had a great impact on main stream musical media, the conservative critics were obliged to reword their moral code, facing the rise of the reformist power.

Meanwhile, a trend of reviewing history emerged immediately after the restoration of social norm. As early as in 1980, Wang Ruoshui (王若水) reviewed cultural policies since the funding of the People’s Republic of China, and questioned one of their primary tenets—art serves politics (文艺为政治服务):

For many years in the past, we heard only “art serves politics,” “education serves politics,” “philosophy serves politics,” “science serves politics,” “sports serve politics,” et cetera. But we never heard about what is served by politics. Seems like politics is foremost: all serves it; all belongs to it. Thus, in the minds of many, politics itself is an aim, and the ultimate aim.162

Wang goes further to negate this slogan, “art serves politics,” concluding that since politics should serve the people, the final aim for artistic creation should be for the good of people. Here the question becomes “what is good for people?” Wang argued that, music should be healthy for people and that politics were responsible for ensuring that in the “socialists’ stages (社会主义舞台),” only healthy music will be presented to people.163 Healthy here connotes the moral. Thus, according to Wang, music should be moral, since morality is good for people. Similarly, most discourse during the first half

162 Wang Ruoshui, “Arts, Politics and the People,” Theoretical Studies in Literature and Arts 03 (1980): 7-11. 163 Ibid, 10.

150 of the 1980s tried to circumvent questions on the root of morality, and the historical review resulted in a dramatic change in tone in the second half of the 1980s.

In 1988, the TV program, River Elegy, revived the contemplate on the colors, yellow and blue. Yellow represents Yellow River (黄河), the cradle of Chinese culture, blue refers to the color of ocean, the origin of Western civilization. Thus, the dilemma of

East or West, once happened in the beginning of Chinese modernization, appeared in metaphors of colors. River Elegy had been criticized for propagating Western supremacy and denying the value of Chinese heritage. However, this criticism was superficial and unfair for this program. Although in a form of stating modernist propositions in a

Westernized tone, the essence of River Elegy involved debate and introspection. The stance of its narration was based on concerns of Chinese intellectuals, who sought a future of their nation through self-examining on their own culture.

Unfortunately, this program was released in a moment of the acute conflict between conservatives and reformists within the Communist Party. Deng Xiaoping, in

1978 the pilot of reformation and restoration, backed the conservative power. Thus,

River Elegy, Western culture, and reformist ideas all became the targets of the conservative power. Finally, the June Fourth Incident of 1989 broke out concealing a military coup which ousted the reformist president, Zhao Ziyang (赵紫阳, 1919-2005).

China fell into the domination of conservative power with Jiang Zemin (江泽民, 1926-), designated by Deng Xiaoping as the president of China. The hardline politician Li Peng

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(李鹏, 1928-), who was directly responsible for the military suppression of the surrounding area of Tian’an Men Square, became the prime minister of China.

This situation abruptly suspended all discussions of political issues and history.

Censorship reached a peak at the turn of the 1980s to the 1990s, and a single message advocating a “socialist modernization (社会主义现代化)” became the final arbiter for ideas. River Elegy was banned immediately after the Tian’an Men Square Incident in

1989, and all but forgotten by the public until the 2000s. Assessments applied to bans on shows and publications sporadically tightened or loosened up. Literary works or programs keen on social problems and governing were supervised strictly. Obscenity became the most usual “justification” for censoring shows, movies and novels. From time to time, the police department implemented missions for eradicating obscenity, the yellow scan(扫黄), over the culture industry.

3.2. Xia Hai, Gao Kao and Bei Piao

Meanwhile, economic growth went on uninterrupted by political upheaval. The first half of the 1980s saw a wholistic recovery of Chinese society. Along with the rehabilitation movements from the end of the 1970s, a restoration in economy occurred, encouraged by the opening policies. The opening policies include serial plans or guidelines dedicated to the development of material life in China, and opening trade and cooperation with international society, regardless of ideology. These policies

152 carried a message to “reform inwardly and open-up outwardly (对内改革, 对外开放)” in the Third Plenary Session of the Eleventh Central Committee of the Communist Party of China

(十一届三中全会), in 1978. Shen Zhen (深圳) was the first city open to trade, mainly with Hong Kong (still a British concession at that time). By the middle 1980s, a fast- growing economy and greatly improved lives made Shen Zhen the paradigm for the development of the coastal areas of China.

In 1984, fourteen cities along the coast, from Qinhuangdao and Dalian in north, to Guangzhou, Zhanjiang and Beihai in the south, opened to international trade. The efficiency of opening to trade was remarkable: fortunes and opportunities of coastal cities attracted huge populations from inland. Many young people found occupation in the growing merchant world that, one decade ago, was still considered taboo in the revolutionist morality. This tide of popular migration from inland to the coast area was called “xia hai” (下海, “down to the sea”) in Beijing. Xia hai, meant for doing business, became one of the new vocabulary of modern Chinese. When the earliest xia hai population brought back fortunes to their hometowns, the coastal areas attracted even more followers in the “sea business.”

Trade was dramatically promoted by the increasing participants, and the variety of commodities was greatly enlarged in a short time. Along with the trading commodities, audio products (in the beginning records and cassettes, and later CDs) were imported, or smuggled into the Chinese coast. These audio products, whether

153 legal or illegal, were guides for fashion in the recreational lives of the Chinese coastal population, and the windows for young musicians in Beijing to peer through, into the outside world of music.

Besides the coastal areas, major inland cities, especially Beijing, also received significant influx of population. In 1977, the National Higher Education Entrance

Examination (高考, gao kao, the mandatory university entrance exam) was resumed, which changed the demographic structure of Beijing: Young college students from all over China became a considerable portion of the cultural evolution of 1980s’ Beijing; and imported cultures were soon popularized in a once conservative city. Signs of hipster and hippies emerged in dress codes and behaviors of young people. Besides listening to imported recordings, they frequented rock, folk, and jazz concerts in the bourgeoning nightlife of east Beijing.

After 1978, due to the increase of diplomatic activity between China and Western countries, more embassies were built or resumed activity. In 1987, areas of east Beijing, around Liangma Qiao (亮马桥) and Changhong Qiao (长虹桥), were slated for the new embassy district. A significant influx of foreigners—ambassadors, businessmen, scholars, and students—arrived in these areas, after the embassy district was built. The activity of foreign musicians also increased, but mainly for short-term tours. Very few occupational musicians lived in Beijing in the 1980s, but in the beginning of the 1990s, a commercial belt featured on hotels, cafeterias, bars, and restaurants flourished

154 alongside the embassy districts. Rock and jazz bands appeared with foreign and local musicians playing together fulfilling the musical needs of these entertainment venues.

However, the yellow scan still held a stigma on nightlife in China. As discussed in Part I, music for entertainment, the soul of nightlife, had long been tied to the notion of obscenity in traditional ideology. Although jazz had gradually shed its association with the category of yellow music since the 1980s, its popularity was still significantly confined by musical morality. In early 1980s, commercial music shows in bars and cafeterias in Guangzhou were criticized by the conservative media. This kind of criticism gradually faded from the main stream media, as the inner land cities, like

Beijing, were gradually opened to the commercial entertainments. In the second half of the 1980s inland, the older generations still advised against, or restrained their family members from going out to at night, although nightlife was considered fashionable by some young people. College students in Beijing were exempted from restraints once away from their parents. Some of them occasionally went to bars and jam sessions to fulfill their curiosity about the “corrupted capitalist music;” some frequented nightlife sites in east Beijing, to embrace the hipster and hippie culture brought in with jazz and rock.

Into the 1990s, China’s rapid development continued into the 2010s, especially in industrialization and urbanization, improving the quality of life for average citizens, but also strengthening the monopoly in industry by conservatives. Unbalanced regional

155 distribution ensued where vast rural areas were abandoned. Major cities, especially

Beijing, grew to over-sized, both in area and in population, and concentrated most of the resources of the country. A malformed social structure, with increasing income disparity and regional inequality, formed new hierarchies of China’s civil lives. The regional hierarchy, in which cities in the east part were viewed as better for individual development, incurred an overwhelming influx of populations into Beijing. This influx is called bei piao (北漂, drifting to the north). Among those who were in bei piao, artists from all over China gathered in Beijing, making the political center also the cultural center in 1990s China.

On the other hand, highly competitive in Beijing, the continuously increasing population brought an inflation of human resources. Immigrants from poor areas endured not only much higher living costs than in their original areas, but also a lower standard of life, and in accepting jobs. A social hierarchy formed, based on the financial status of residents in Beijing, with two extremes covered by immigrants. The lower- class immigrants thus suffered from discriminations in payment, job opportunity or socialization, and were subject to harassment by criminal subcultures.

Many of these immigrants were pushed into criminal activities out of poverty; and prostitution took hold in the underground of the law-abiding surface of the city where fed the middle-class locals. A once neutral phrase, waidi ren (外地人, the outlander), became a discriminative term, often used by the locals to refer to poor

156 immigrants, imputing the aggravated competition and increase of crime rates to the arrival of these outlanders.

Policy-makers and the upper-class immigrants, often the relatives of the policy makers, were those ultimately responsible for this conflict, however, has always been neglected in the intensified dispute between the locals and lower-class outlanders.

Several restrictive policies targeting lower-class immigrants, deceptively for benefiting the locals, but in practice redirected outrage toward protectionism by policy-makers toward the locals.

Retaliatory crime thus increased, which exacerbated the crisis of social integration in Beijing. A sub-society formed, with mafias divided primarily according to the origin of members. These outlaw powers, often more efficient than the insufficient law enforcement in managing order in the entertainment world, became the latent rulers of the nightlife. The rise of prostitution became a convenient excuse for police departments to intervene in the affairs of this sub-society, and Beijing’s nightlife generally. The yellow scan was implemented repeatedly without eradicating obscenity from this city, but mostly harmed the balance of the culture industry. Meanwhile, the deep roots of prostitution and crime from regional disparities was ignored.

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Figure7. Seiji Ozawa conducting in Peking's Capital Stadium a joint concert of the BSO and Central Philharmonic Orchestra of China, 1979. Accessed March 9, 2018, https://www.bso.org/brands/bso/press/images/1979-china-tour.aspx

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Chapter Four: Jazz in Beijing

In pre-1980s musical journalism of the Mainland, most discourses mentioned jazz purely in terms of moral criticism, while the study of its musical features was often omitted. Surprisingly, in 1958, the eve of the dramatic turning point of 1959, People’s

Music published an article, “American Jazz” by Tong Changrong (佟常荣) and Wang

Ying (王英), which discussed more in depth the origin, history, musical features and instrumentation of jazz, despite its conservative perspective. But soon this kind of voice had been strangled in the revolutionary moral cleansing of the 1960s, and jazz was all but forgotten in China until the 1980s.

During the 1980s’ polemic around qing yinyue, jazz turned up with increasing frequency in journal articles. Interestingly, the discussion on moral issues around jazz were gradually suspended, partly a result of the increasing efforts in musical journalism in explaining and introducing the music, rather than the symbolic meaning of jazz in the modern Chinese moral structure.

In March 1979, Ozawa Seiji’s toured Beijing with the Boston Symphony

Orchestra, performing among other pieces Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue (1924). Soon, the affection for Gershwin’s music rippled through the conservatoires in Beijing. In 1980, an article entitled “Gershwin and Black American Music”164 started a trend in studying

164 Hu Haiping, “Gershwin and Black American Music” Music Lover no. 1 (1980), 41-44.

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Gershwin’s music among music academies. Henceforth, the pure musical investigation of jazz inaugurated, and more journal articles introduced jazz purely from its musical and historical aspects.

In 1980s Beijing, translated works of jazz writers, like Dan Morgenstern and Max

Harrison, were among the most important resources for learning about jazz. As the discussion dedicated purely to jazz music increased, the genre was gradually separated from the umbrella of qing yinyue; beginning at the end of 1980s, the term qing yinyue faded from public view, as pop, rock, and folk, once also considered qing yinyue, appeared more independently in music media as well.

In 1981 Shanghai, Zhou Wanrong (周万荣), a retired trumpeter from Shanghai

Orchestra in his sixties, and another five colleagues put a jazz band together. They started gigs at the Peace Hotel, located at the intersection of the Bund and East Nanjing

Road (南京东路). They performed repertoire from Old Shanghai jazz. Meanwhile in

Beijing, a group of young musicians, from traditional and classical musical communities were attracted by jazz. Still scarce in live performances, imported recordings on LP, cassette, and CDs, primarily smuggled into China, became the most important resources for satisfying their curiosity about jazz, and as audio textbooks for their self- trainings.

Soon the disparate styles between Shanghai jazz and imported recordings were

160 noticed by players in Beijing. Although many of the recordings listened to by Beijing’s players were 1970s-styled “smooth” jazz, like those of Grover Washington Jr., the fact that they came from the United States granted Beijing players enough confidence to question the authenticity of Old Shanghai jazz.

Before the 1990s, although there were jazz ensembles in Beijing, they played mostly private events, more like jam sessions than concerts or gigs. Sustained by the improving business of clubs, hotels, and cafeterias in the embassy district in the late

1980s, the opportunities for gigs encouraged private combos who went public. Formal bands have formed since then, among them, the Old Tree Barks (老树皮), founded in

1990, Alas in 1991, Guang Jiao (广角) in 1992, Beijing Jazz Unite in 1993, Left Hand Jazz

Band in 1994 (左手乐队), Tien Square (天场) in 1995, and Guys (兄弟) in 1996. These bands held regular concerts in clubs, hotels and cafeterias, where would also host jam sessions. In 1993, Udo Hoffman, a German businessman and a jazz lover living in

China, initiated the first jazz festival in Beijing. As musicians were invited from abroad to play together with local musicians, this event became a big hit in both the domestic and international media. From this time, local bands from Beijing started catching the attention of the international media and the rising local entertainment industry.

While music entertainment prospered east Beijing, the government published regulations in managing the entertainment markets. As early as 1985, a Temporary

Administrative Bills for Cultural Exhibitions (北京市文艺演出管理暂时办法) was issued

161 by the local government of Beijing. In this regulation, only bands or individuals affiliated with a musical institution were allowed to participate on the commercial stage. In 1993, the Cultural Bureau (文化部) started to publish an Administrative

Regulations for Commercial Performances (CPR 营业性演出管理条例). The fourteenth code of this regulation requires bands and singers to register and get permission in a cultural an administrative institute before they could be hired. The twenty-ninth code states that those disobeying the requirement to register and obtain permission will receive a warning to confiscate their income and a fine of one to five times that income.

In this new regulation, non-institutional bands and individuals were allowed to be paid to perform. However, the procedure for getting permission was not defined clearly, for example, who was qualified as the “cultural administrative institute” and who could register and apply for permission. From 1993 to the 2010s, the CPR was revised almost yearly, and regulations were increasingly specified. The ambiguous registering and permission process was replaced by a clarified criteria of the show license

(演出证).

Into the 2010s, the requirement of show licenses tightened, while the restrictions on their contents tended to be more open, which indeed reduced the interference of censorship on artistic creation. But the show license law has long been problematic for jazz musicians. The memberships of jazz bands are usually very changeable, and individual players could appear in several bands or be substituted by others just before

162 the concert. It is impossible for those who hire performers to always list players weeks ahead of the show as required. Besides, musicians wanted their students or friends from other countries to join them on stage, with payment, very typical in any jazz community. The requirement of a show license had also been disturbing for visiting players with a tourist visa, who were not allowed to apply for permission.

4.1. Fathers and Missionaries of Jazz in Beijing

On an early morning in 1987, 19-year old Matt Roberts arrived at the Beijing

Capital International Airport. Astonished by the formidable quality of the best airport highway in 1980s China, Roberts looked into the edgeless darkness out of the window of the shuttle, and became concerned about his fate in this country. Totally alien to his past American life, China had been thought by many in U.S. society as backward, inaccessible and flooded with communist ideology. But this unknowing land attracted many young travelers from Roberts, Buck Clayton, or the early Western businessmen in

1850s Shanghai. Immediately after China reopened for trade and culture in the 1980s, the excitement brought by unknown risks and opportunities became bait for adventurers. That same year, David Moser, a musician and linguistic specialist in the

Chinese language, arrived with the same frame of mind, and concerned with similar curiosity and nerves as Roberts in the airport shuttle. Neither would have guessed they would become missionaries of jazz in Beijing, and would remain in this city till today.

163

Figure 8. Matt Roberts on Ah Q Arkestra concert in Eudora Station Beijing, January 22, 2017. Photographed by author.

164

4.1.1. Matt Roberts

Roberts (饶猛志) was born in 1960s’ Pennsylvania, growing up in King of

Prussia. His father’s 45-rpm jazz records were always companions to his childhood memories. At age 9, Roberts began taking trumpet lessons, but he changed to trombone in high school, playing in the school jazz band. More exciting jazz experiences started in his years at Dartmouth College. As a freshman, Roberts joined the Barbary Coast Jazz

Ensemble. In February 1990, Sun Ra stayed in Dartmouth for a week as a guest artist in the Ensemble, while Roberts was still in the band. One of his band members, Michael

Lowenthal recorded in his memoir, “Face the Music: My Improbable Trip to Saturn (or

Close Enough) with Sun Ra,”165 that Sun Ra rehearsed with the students, and chose five horn players to join the Arkestra, his renown band. Lowenthal and Roberts were included in the five. A while after the stay in Dartmouth, Sun Ra left a secret note to his agent to invite three of the five students, Lowenthal, Roberts, and a chemical student named Pete, to join the Arkestra for a concert in Boston. This impressive event tied

Roberts to jazz, and he says, changed his views on music and life. He became more curious, expecting random occurrences, and was always ready to change the course of his life according to the accidental encounters.166

165 Michael Lowenthal, “Face the Music: My Improbable Trip to Saturn (or Close Enough) with Sun Ra,” Ploughshares Solos 5, no. 1 (August 2016). 166 Matt Roberts, interview by author, Beijing, January 23, 2017.

165

Even before his encounter with Sun Ra, Roberts had a causal attitude toward the happenstances of life. He told me he had chosen to study Chinese to fulfill a requirement for Dartmouth’s language requirement. There were long queues for other language programs, no one was registering for the Chinese, so, not wanting to be trapped in a queue, he registered in Chinese course. As a sophomore, he was recruited in the Asian study program, which sent him to the collaborating institute in China, at

Beijing University (北京大学). His parallel lives in China and in the United States thus began with frequent commuting between these two countries. In 1987, Roberts brought along a second-hand trombone bought by his tutor, Tim Atherton, and began his exploration in Beijing.

At Beijing University, Roberts found a good place to practice by the Weiming

Lake (未名湖)167 and, shortly after, a Chinese teacher discovered his hobby and introduced him to the Central Conservatoire of Music (CCM, 中央音乐学院) in Beijing, where he could use a practice room. Outside his practice room, he met new friends and formed an octet with some of them. Acknowledging that despite the growing interest in jazz among students, there was still no jazz major at the CCM, Roberts suggested that he could help to build a jazz major there. His proposal was arbitrarily denied with no room for further explanation, which left Roberts baffled.168 He did not know that the

167 Ibid. 168 Ibid.

166 administrative authority of the highest musical academy in China was still held in conservative hands. A gradually intensified confrontation between the conservatives and the reformists (discussed in the last chapter), meant that jazz, rock, or the entire cluster of qing yinyue, increasingly became an intolerable symbol of the still powerful musical morality.

Outside the purview of the conservatives, music businesses in east Beijing were meanwhile growing. Like Roberts, many foreign musicians, occupational and amateur, formed bands for gigs and jams after arriving to Beijing in late 1980s. They comprised staff from the embassies, businessmen, students, exchange scholars, and occupational musicians, who had come to the city for all kinds of reasons. Because of jazz, they knew each other, and started their connections with local musicians. But the most important thing for some of them was that after the painful compromises they had made, giving up their musical dreams and coming to China to make a living, they had unexpectedly found jazz in Beijing. As David Moser told me, he found the intersection between a linguistic career and jazz in Beijing.169

Also arriving in 1987, Martin Fleischer had come from Hamburg, Germany. After getting a master’s degree at the Academy of the German Foreign Service, he was given

169 David Moser, interview by author, Beijing March 13, 2017.

167 a diplomatic position in German Embassy in Beijing.170 Roberts had conducted a yet unpublished study on the activities of the earliest jazz-bands in the Beijing embassy district.171 According to this study, Fleischer formed his first band in 1987, called the

Joint Venture Jazz Band, with Zhuang Biao (庄彪), piano, Liu Yuan (刘元, later the saxophonist for in the rock band ADO), Barbara Hudek, flute and Eddie

Randriamampionona (later guitarist in rock band ADO), drums. They rehearsed at

Martin Fleischer’s one-bedroom flat at the ambassadors’ resident in Qijia Yuan (齐家园), and performed at a restaurant near Chaoyang Men (朝阳门). However, as Roberts noted, “the restaurant was closed by the authorities the next day as the public concert was held without a license.”172

From 1989, Fleischer played with his second band, The Swing Mandarins, with

Liu Xiaosong (刘效松, drums, including on Cui Jian’s recording of “I Have Nothing”),

Paul Shupack, guitar, Fredric Cho, saxophone, and Liang Heping (梁和平), piano. In

October 1989 The Swing Mandarins disbanded, due to Fleischer’s brief departure from

China. When he returned in 1990, the band was re-assembled at once, but the membership changed. In the new line-up, Fleischer retained Cui Jian (崔健, now called the “father of Chinese rock”) and started combos with flexible memberships into the

170 “Martin Fleischer Profile” accessed EastWest Institute, March 22, 2018, https://www.eastwest.ngo/profile/amb-martin-fleischer 171 Matt Roberts, “Martin Jazz,” emailed to author, January 31, 2017. 172 Ibid, 3.

168

1990s.173 Their performances were mainly around the Jianguo Hotel (建国饭店) and later a newly opened outlet of Maxim’s (马克西姆).

In an interview, Roberts relayed an anecdote about Maxim’s. In 1981, Pierre

Cardin bought the famous Maxim’s restaurant in Paris, and expanded it into an international chain. As Maxim’s restaurants appeared one after another in different corners of the world, Cardin joked one day in 1983, “if I can open a Maxim’s in China, then I can open one on the moon.”174 Unexpectedly, in 1987, China opened to foreign residents. Immediately in 1988, Pierre Cardin opened a Maxim’s in Beijing.

After June 1989, the hypersensitive political atmosphere posed the internationally casted live music under strict surveillance from the conservative authorities. Rock, especially with its explicit sarcasm in Cui Jian’s lyrics of songs like I

Have Nothing (一无所有, or Nothing to My Name) and A Piece of Red Cloth, became flash points in the tightened censorship into early 1990s. As Roberts recalled, due to the close relationships between members in the small rock-jazz community, there were often “leizi” (雷子, cops in Beijing slang) lingering around their shows.175

Gradually, the importance of jazz faded from this intense monitoring, due to its obscured musical expressions. With the growing business around the embassy district,

173 Ibid. 174 David Moser, “The Book of Chang: Jazz with Chinese Characteristics,” in When We’re Here, ed. Alec Ash and Tom Pellman (Hong Kong: Earnshaw Books, 2015): p. 44. 175 Matt Roberts, interviewed by author, Beijing, January 31, 2017.

169

Roberts’ octet got a job there very soon when the Great Wall Hotel (长城饭店) sought a big-band performance. The octet joined in the program and rehearsed twice for the first show, with no charts available but their own transcriptions from tape-recordings. The show at the Great Wall Hotel not only brought Roberts in contact with other local musicians, but also provided opportunities for more gigs. In the big band he met Liu

Yuan, the saxophone player in Cui Jian’s rock band, and is now called the “father of

Chinese jazz.”

Liu Yuan was born in 1960, to Liu Fengtong (刘凤桐) who was a famous suona player. His uncle, Liu Fengming (刘凤鸣), was one of the most important suona players and educators in modern China. As the youngest child in the suona family, Liu Yuan also started with suona.176 In 1979, he joined in Beijing Musical Troop (北京歌舞团), and started continuous tours with his band in Europe until 1981. During one of these tours, he heard jazz for the first time in a small European town (Belgium or Romania).

Returning to Beijing, the old Chinese smooth jazz had already resumed in Shanghai, and probably it was also played in Beijing, at some qing yinyue concerts.

Meanwhile, cassettes and records were imported, or smuggled into the music market of China. Liu Yuan got an album of Grover Washington Jr, and found the “jazz” he witnessed in China very different from what he had heard from Europe and on

176 Liu Yuan, interview by author, Beijing, April 5, 2016.

170

American records. Ambitious to be the inaugurator of authentic jazz in China, he started to search for more records and discovered the big names like Miles Davis. In

1984, at age 24, Liu Yuan started to teach himself jazz, with a collection of jazz recordings, and a local brand of saxophone (鹦鹉牌, Parrot) bought for 465 yuan

(around 90 dollars).177

Around this time, orchestras and musical troops were re-organized by the cultural bureaus in Beijing. The Central Musical Troop (中央歌舞团) and its affiliated

Beijing Qing Yinyue Band (北京轻音乐团) were formed and young musicians were recruited or re-distributed into the new institutes. Thus, Liu Yuan and trumpet player

Cui Jian, from the Beijing Symphonic Orchestra (北京交响乐团), became colleagues in the Central Musical Troop. With audio products imported into the Mainland, a hippie fashion also came into Beijing with rock music. The influence of hippie culture was visible in the dress of young people, with bell-bottom pants and Beatles-style hair popularized. Living in this atmosphere, young musicians in musical communities began forming rock bands. Cui Jian became the most famous rock figure among the earliest rock players in 1980s Beijing. With Liu Yuan, his first rock band was Qihe Ban

(七合板, “seven-fold board”), then ADO and May Day in 1986. Soon, Cui Jian’s fame overshadowed other players, in or outside his band.

177 Qian Tong, “The Developing of Jazz: Study of the Relationship Between the Local Jazz and City Culture” (PhD diss., Northeast Normal University, 2016), 83. Accesed March 20, 2017.

171

Regarding popular music in 1980s, people remember only rock and the only name, Cui Jian. However, censorship suddenly intensified after 1989, and Chinese rock was banned and went underground or abroad. Briefly supported by international tours, the age of rock declined and terminated in its peak in 1992, when three rock bands from

Beijing drove the audiences in a euphoria in Hong Kong, by chanting the communist anthem, L’Internationale.178 The rest of the 1990s saw the flood of the media- entertainment marketing imported from Hong Kong bring obscurity to Mainland rock stars. Due to their ignorance to the marketing strategies of the new media, the renown of Mainland rock musicians soon submerged in a new yellow journalism era, when sensationalism and scandalization took hold on public attention. Pop singers, movie stars, soap drama actors and their fascinating scandals from Hong Kong and Taiwan dominated the fashion of 1990s’ Mainland.

Although overshadowed under the radiance of rock in the 1980s, and pop stars from Hong Kong and Taiwan in 1990s, jazz had been steadily growing. In 1990, after graduate from Dartmouth, Roberts formed a band with three local musicians and a staff at the American Embassy in Beijing. These three local musicians had all just started playing jazz. Dong Ronghua (董荣华) was a classical bass player from Central

Conservatoire, and his collegemate Kong Hongwei (孔宏伟), a Sheng (Chinese mouth

178 Farewell, Utopia, directed by Sheng Zhimin (Zero O’clock Cinema, 2009), accessed March 23, 2018, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WqL6GU6FsDk

172 pipe) player, played piano; Zhang Longyun (张龙云), a suona player from National

Traditional Orchestra (中央民族乐团), played saxophone. This band was called Alas, the name from a cigarette brand. It derived from the drummer, Daryl Jenks’ habit of handing out Alas cigarettes to his fellow musician. Alas played gigs around the embassy district, in the Great Wall Hotel, Jinglun Hotel (京伦饭店), and the German Bar in Guo Mao (国贸). Roberts got to know more local musicians, including bass player

Zhang Hui (张辉), drummers Cheng Jin (程进), Liu Xiaosong (刘效松) and Liu Gang (刘

刚), as they came to substitute the occasional absent members.179

At that time, live jazz was limited in the embassy district. The first place Matt

Roberts found gigs outside the distric is Shicha Hai (什刹海), the current center of the local jazz scene. In the small island on the middle of a long and narrow lake of Shicha

Hai, a restaurant opened and hosted the first jazz gigs in this area. A local-brand car and a driver were sent by the restaurant to help out with the musicians’ gear and transport. The driver was also included as an Alas band member by the musicians, and with five or six gigs per week, the performance of the band improved rapidly. Their income was considerable compared to the average salary in Beijing at the beginning of

1990s. Roberts was teaching in Beijing Normal University (北京师范大学) at that time and earned much more from gigs than from the university. The low cost of living made

179 Matt Roberts, “Matt Roberts Supporting Information,” emailed to author, January 31, 2017.

173 him affluent in Beijing, but the exchange rate of Chinese currency to US dollars (eight to one at that time) still made it financially unfeasible for him to return to the United

States—the price for a flight back would almost empty his yearly savings.180

Nevertheless, in 1992, Roberts returned to the United States for a long-term stay, and Alas disbanded. When he returned to Beijing in 1994, he found the jazz community had expanded. He met the CCM trumpet player, Wen Zhiyong (文智勇), and trombonist Ren Dapeng (任大鹏), and formed the band Left Hand with them and three other musicians, Li Bin (李斌), bass, Yi Hao (一号), piano, and Zhang Longyun (张龙云), saxophone. Left Hand played mainly at the Kranzler Cafe in Lufthansa Center.181 At the end of 1994, Roberts met Scott Silverman (the current drummer in his band) and three other musicians on a train to Shanghai. Together they formed another band, Five Guys on a Train, which mainly performed in Shanghai, thus Roberts stayed in Shanghai for a year.

During this year, Roberts visited Shanghai Conservatoire of Music (上海音乐学

院, SCM) to recruit students for his band. At the time, the students in SCM only learned about jazz from cut-out CDs bought from venders near campus. The local live performances provided only Old Shanghai jazz. To build a band, and to pursue his passion in popularizing jazz music, Roberts taught the students the basics of jazz and

180 Matt Roberts, interview by author, Beijing, January 23, 2017. 181 Roberts, “Matt Roberts Supporting Information.”

174 bought and distributed scores and hand-outs for them. One of these students, He Yue, later became a prominent jazz pianist in Shanghai.182

In 1995, Roberts returned to Beijing, where he met many more local jazz players at CD Cafe, the first jazz club in Beijing, which had opened in 1994, located in Nong

Zhanguan (农展馆, just across the street of the Italian embassy). CD Cafe was co-owned by Liu Yuan and Da Xiang (“Elephant,” his nick-name). By the time Roberts arrived there, many younger players had emerged with much improved training in jazz, and concerts were held every night. Many combos with flexible line-ups were went by Liu

Yuan’s name, for example, the Liu Yuan Quartet and Liu Yuan Quintet.183 A big-band concert was scheduled every Saturday and Roberts played there.

Hence, CD Cafe became the center of the Beijing jazz community, with Roberts playing with pianists Xia Jia (夏佳) and Yang Dehui (杨德辉), bass players Huang Yong

(黄勇) and Liu Yue (刘玥), drummers Bei Bei (贝贝) and his prestigious Japanese mentor, Izumi Koga among the denizens.184 After his graduation from Berklee College of Music, Koga arrived in Beijing in 1993 and remained in this city, contributing immeasurably to the jazz scene. As one of the jazz missionaries, he founded the education of jazz drumming in Beijing. Under his tutoring, new generations of jazz

182 Chen, “A Study of the Localization of Jazz in Shanghai,” 22. 183 A video of Liu Yuan Quartet is available on YouTube, with Liu Yuan on tenor, Yang Dehui on piano, Liu Yue on Bass, and Bei Bei on drums. 184 Matt Roberts, interview by author, Beijing, January 23, 2017.

175 percussionists, like Bei Bei and Xiao Dou (小豆), became the prominent figures on

China’s jazz stage. It is not exaggerating to say that without Koga, jazz’s development in Beijing would have been substantially delayed, due to a lack of specialized local jazz drummers.

By the 2000s, clubs and cafeterias hosting live performances grew in numbers.

Independent musical clubs also appeared, like the CD Cafe and the Jam House (芥末坊, a homophonic Chinese phrase, meaning muster house) on Sanlitun South Street (三里屯

南街). Jazz also extended onto stages of venues outside east Beijing. Sanwei Shuwu (三

味书屋), a two-floor bookstore on Chang’an Street (长安街) had a jazz program on

Fridays and Saturdays since 1992. Here Roberts met Moser, later a long-term bandmate.

These new locations provided more opportunities for local jazz musicians to meet and communicate. Divisions of styles gradually crystalized, and bands formed based on these divisions.

Moreover, more musical genres were imported into China in the second half of the 1990s, and abundant CD supplies soon replaced cassettes and records on the record market. These brought more convenience to local musical communities, broadening the choice of styles and better-quality recordings, but also diluted the just improved popularity of live jazz.185 At the end of 1990s, Roberts started playing in various bands

185 David Moser, interview by author, March 13, 2017.

176 including blues and funk bands. During his time with the blues band Rhythm Dogs

(1996),186 he met Kong Hongwei (the pianist in Alas) again in Rhythm Dogs, as well as saxophone player Jin Hao (金浩) and guitar player, Eddie (once the drummer of Joint

Venture Jazz Band and ADO’s guitarist). Later in 2005, Kong Hongwei, Jin Hao, Huang

Yong and Izumi Koga formed the first Chinese jazz fusion band, Golden Buddha (金佛).

Besides, Roberts met in the Rhythm Dogs Zhang Ling(张岭), later the boss of CD

Blues and the “father of Chinese blues.” Zhang Ling was born into a musical family. His parents were musicians in classical and traditional orchestras, an environment that fostered his familiarity with all kinds of instruments. He first studied piano, then changed into electric bass in 1986,187 when he joined Cui Jian’s rock band May Day.

After a brief trip to the United States, Roberts returned to Beijing again and formed the band Ah Q Arkestra in 2003, with Atsushi Ouchi, saxophone, Andy Collier,

Drums, Nathalie Craan, vocals, and Dave Beckstead, guitar.188 As the other players left

Beijing one by one, the Ah Q band-members gradually formed into the current line-up, with David Moser, Scott Silverman, Da Zhong (大中, Jin Dongning, 金东宁, bass), and

Liu Xiaoguang (刘晓光, reeds). Formed in the middle of 2000s, this band remained the same until now, becoming the longest living band in Beijing, with a fifteen-year history.

186 A video of this band’s reunion concert in CD Cafe in 2006 (when Liu Yuan was already moved to East Shore) is on YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4x1eKNXHpPw. 187 Zhang Ling, interview by author, e-mail to author February 10, 2017. 188 “Ah Q Arkestra Portal,” accessed March 22, 2018, http://www.ahqjazz.com/

177

Ah Q currently plays regularly in Eudora restaurant next to the Lidu Garden (丽都花园) every Sunday, in the Chao Hotel and at the Jiang Hu Bar (江湖酒吧) for concerts and jam sessions.

Liu Xiaoguang, born in 1979, in Inner Mongolia (内蒙古自治区), trained as a child in classical guitar. The rich Mongolian musical culture endowed him with lasting inspirations for composition, and at age 15, he was accepted by the Inner Mongolia

School of Arts (内蒙古艺术学院) where he began studying saxophone. In the musical circle of Inner Mongolia, Liu Xiaoguang was introduced to jazz. He moved to Beijing in

1999 and joined the band of the prestigious Mongolian singer, Tenger (腾格尔).189 That year, he met Moser at one of Moser’s concerts. Roberts and Moser praise Liu

Xiaoguang, not only for his talent, but also his personality. He is calm, friendly, and very humorous with close friends, according to Moser.190 His playing is imaginative and philosophical, without any pretentious acting on-stage. His compositions, experimental in terms of style, with a hint of Mongolian influence. For example, in “A Poor Man’s

Poison,” the ostinato of bass sounds like Xoomen (呼麦, the Mongolian throat singing genre), and occasionally exhibits a pentatonic theme, with an ephemeral passage of the long song (长调, a common Mongolian musical genre).

Da Zhong is the protégé of Liu Yue (the bass player in Liu Yuan’s “n-tets”),

189 “Ah Q Arkestra Portal” 190 David Moser, interview by author, February 24, 2017.

178

Huang Yong (the founder of Nine Gate Jazz Festival) and Zhang Ling.191 He currently teaches at the Beijing Contemporary Music Academy (北京音乐研修院, BCMA, or

CMA). Besides jazz, Da Zhong has played in pop and rock bands. He often brings rock vamps on electric bass into the jazz band, which adds a bold experimental manner to the Ah Q’s musical character. Juxtaposed with the sensitive and introspective touch of

Scott Silverman’s drumming, Da Zhong contributes a unique harmony to the rhythm section, building on contrast. As early as 1994, on a train to Shanghai, Roberts met

Silverman who had just come to China. Silverman obtained a degree on anthropology before leaving the United States. Trained in drumming since childhood, he played in local bands. In China, he started a jazz career in Shanghai first, then moved to Beijing and frequents all the jam sessions in the city, besides playing with Ah Q.

Since the 2000s, jazz clubs expanded into more areas of Beijing. In 2005, the construction of the Line 10 underground of Beijing expropriated the property where the

CD Cafe was located, and so it was moved to Ritan West Road (日坛西路). But the club did not last long in the new location. Zhang Ling reopened the club changed the name into CD Blues. Around that time, Liu Yuan left CD Cafe and prepared to open a new club, the East Shore Cafe in 2006. Hence, the center of jazz moved from the embassy district to Shicha Hai (the mid-west section of the city).

191 “Ah Q Arkestra Portal.”

179

In the same year, the Jiang Hu Bar (江湖酒吧) opened in a walkable distance to the East Shore.192 The owner of Jiang Hu, Wang Tianxiao (王天晓), has an eclectic taste in music, and the bar has been host for various styles of music. Jazz musicians started to move their residences to the mid-west area, and Jiang Hu became an ideal place for musicians in East Shore to get extra gigs, or for jamming.

In 2015, Steven Bensusan, the president of Blue Note Entertainment announced his plan to open a club in Beijing.193 The location in the old American embassy is just to the east of Tian’an Men Square, thus, live jazz set foot in the heart of Beijing. Ah Q

Arkestra had their debut on May 4, 2017, a very meaningful day links the histories of

China and the United States: On May 4, 1919, at the peak of the May Fourth

Movements, the student demonstrators crossed Tian’an Men Square and submitted an appeal to the old American embassy. On May 4, 1970, the Kent State University gunshot happened when the students were protesting against the Vietnam War. These past events coincided in place and time when Ah Q Arkestra and its American-Chinese line- up staged at the Blue Note Beijing, as recognition for Roberts and fellow jazzmen’s efforts, which had long been owed by this city.

192 Wang Tianxiao, “Tours for Celebrating the Tenth Anniversary of Jiang Hu,” Douban, accessed March 22, 2018, https://www.douban.com/event/27459087/. 193 Chinen, “Blue Note Jazz Club Plans Expansion to China.”

180

Figure 9. David Moser in the interview by author, February 24, 2017. Photographed by author.

181

4.1.2. David Moser

David Moser (莫大伟) was born in the 1950s and grew up in Oklahoma. He started playing trumpet at age 12—in those days’ school marching bands, as he explained to me, usually boys chose trumpet, trombone or tuba, while girls chose flute.194 While the 1960s’ Oklahoma was mostly isolated from jazz, Moser played primarily classical music, until a “message” from Art Blakey’s band came in his mailbox. Moser’s mother was a pianist and a member of a music-lover’s club sponsored by Columbia Records. His family received records monthly due to a mistaken subscription to a promotion program. The album, Three Blind Men of Art Blakey’s The

Jazz Messengers, thus arrived in the mail. Already started his training in trumpet, the album piqued Moser’s interests. He was so excited by the music that he started jumping around and dancing to it. He remembered that the music he was listening to on the record is called jazz, and the scarcity of jazz records in Oklahoma made this “mistaken” delivery especially precious for him.

In the first year of high school, Moser took a jazz big-band course. But he was unsatisfied with the band, due to its outdated, simplified repertoire from the 1920s. One day his tutor took him aside to show the song, “Compared to What” from Les McCann and Eddie Harris’s album, Swiss Movement. The tutor told Moser that the music was

194 David Moser, interview by author, Beijing, March 13, 2017.

182 great but that the lyrics used slang, and not to tell his parents.195 What impressed Moser was not the slang: aside from the militant words of protest reflecting 1960s Civil Rights, a powerful vamp with sharp hits on the drums brought an edge to the unconventional chords, powerfully accompanying the piano opening. This shook his soul. Hearing this record was a crucial event for Moser, opening the door to a passionate and lasting curiosity for jazz, although “Compare to What” no longer seems striking to him.196

During his college years in Oklahoma, no opportunities were available to study jazz in universities. Moser had to learn himself, until he went to Indiana University for his master’s in 1979, after earning a bachelor’s degree in composition and trumpet.197 At

Indiana, he played his first jazz gig, then gradually, transitioned to piano instead of trumpet. After graduating from Indiana, Moser moved to Boston, and started a career as occupational musician. The hard life on music made him hesitate about his talent and will to succeed as an occupational musician. Simultaneously, his hobby in linguistic studies provided him a job in Beijing. In 1987, Beijing University planned to translate

Douglas Hofstadter’s book, Gödel, Escher, Bach: An Eternal Golden Braid (1979). The author recommended Moser as translator. Thus, Moser arrived in Beijing in 1987, that year, at the same airport and through the same airport highway as had Matt Roberts.

195 Ibid. 196 David Moser, interview by author, Beijing, March 13, 2016. 197 “Staff and Faculty” on MIDI School of Music Official Site, accessed March 26, 2018, http://www.midischool.com.cn/Piano-teacher.htm.

183

Moser did not get involved with the musical scene immediately after arriving in

Beijing. Instead, he found himself more and more immersed in academic life, and enjoyed this city’s day-time. The environment of Beijing University was delightful for him. At that time, the location of the Beijing University, now the digital center of

Beijing, Zhongguan Cun (中关村), was surrounded by several universities. Outside, the university area was still like a huge farm, with country houses, vegetable plots, and orchards. Moser lived in the dorm called Shao Yuan (芍园, “peony garden”), and had his own “vehicle”—a second-hand local-brand bicycle, to explore the city. There were almost no cars on the streets, only a few buses going through the main street to the outskirt areas like Zhongguan Cun, despite a considerable population was living in the small community formed by the universities. But riding bicycle was not safe. He felt the overwhelming challenge by going through “a river of bicycles” in the rush hours.

Although still in poverty, the people he met were optimistic, romantic, and full of curiosity and dreams.198

From 1988, Moser was busily flying between China and the United States for his linguistic degrees at the University of Michigan.199 In 1992, he met the Italian musician

Luca Bonvini, who was learning guqin at Beijing University.200 As a professional

198 David Moser, interview by author, Beijing, February 13, 2018. 199 Ibid, and “Staff and Faculty” on MIDI School of Music Official Site. 200 David Moser, interview by author, Beijing February 24, 2018.

184 trombonist, Bonvini was devoted to jazz. First he formed a quartet, Guang Jiao (广角).

Due to his frequent commuting between China and the United States, Moser did not join the Bonvini’s band until 1993,201 when Bonvini organized a big band for the just founded Beijing Jazz Festival. Bonvini asked Moser to search, arrange, transcribe or compose some pieces for the event.

It was in building this big band that Moser started to cooperate with Bonvini, and later joined Guang Jiao (广角).202 The big band was named Beijing Jazz Unit, which later became a regular at annual Beijing Jazz Festivals. The Beijing Jazz Unit included the efforts of almost all the prominent jazz musicians living in Beijing. Bonvini, the band leader and conductor, was in charge of rehearsing and managing the show, besides playing trombone. In a video of this band at the 1995 Beijing Jazz Festival, Liu Yuan, Jin

Hao, and Du Yinjiao (and one unrecognizable musician) were on saxophone. Cui Jian,

Zhu Hai and Wen Zhiyong on trumpet. Liu Xiaosong and Zhang Yongguang (张永光) were on drums, Liang Heping on piano, Gu Feng (古风) on vocal, Zhang Ling on electric bass and Huang Yong on acoustic bass.

Very few information available for him, Bonvini’s activity in 1990s Beijing jazz scene stayed only in the memories of Moser, who recalled him as a talented, passionate,

201 Luca Bonvini, “Beijing Jazz Unit” (video of International Jazz Festival Beijing, 1995) accessed March 24, 2018, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uRrWE3BPm8c. 202 David Moser, interview by author, Beijing, February 24, 2017.

185 hot-tempered and frank friend. Bonvini’s interest in guqin was often reflected in his jazz projects. As early as 1995, at a concert of the Beijing Jazz Union, one song was composed on a poem, “Your Jazz,” written by an anonymous audience, in which

Huang Yong played bass in a distinctive guqin way.203 And this unique playing contrasted the uniform pursuit in bebop style of local musicians at later times.

Unknown for the jazz community in Beijing, Bonvini released a CD playing John

Coltrane’s album Spiritual (2001) on guqin, an ancient instrument long been considered as the spirit of Chinese literati.204 For this album, Bonvini adopted John Coltrane’s tunes in a thoroughly guqin expression, improbable for many who had tried to infuse Chinese music into jazz.

1993 was the decisive year for jazz’s development in Beijing, and when Moser unfolded his connection with the local music community. Moser recounted his experience in the 1990s Beijing’s jazz scene in his memoir, “The Book of Changes: Jazz with Chinese Characteristics.”205 Book of Changes is the translation given by Moser for the

Daoism classic Yi Jing (易经). Even before came to China, he has an enduring interest in

Daoism.206 In his writing, Moser related the Real Book with Yi Jing, the Book of Changes, as

203 Beijing Jazz Unit, concert in 1995 Beijing Jazz Festival, accessed March 26, 2018, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MeAvDeT_N-M. 204 Luca Bonvini, Spiritual, 2009, CD, accessed March 24, 2018, https://store.cdbaby.com/cd/lucabonvini3. 205 Moser, “The Book of Chang,” 44-55. 206 David Moser, interview by author, Beijing, February 13, 2017.

186 jazz musicians improvise over a succession of chords that underlie the melody, and call it “playing the changes.” 207 In 1993, the Real Book was already a standard companion in

Beijing’s jazz community.208 Moser comments, “ironic, I thought to myself. That the culture that produced the ancient divination classic the Book of Changes had now imported this musical book of changes.”209 Besides the Real Book, Moser was fascinated by the language used in Beijing’s jazz community. “In the middle of fast-paced Chinese they sprinkled English phrases like ‘bossa-nova’, ‘swing feel’, ‘trade fours’ and ‘bass line.’”210 For this reason, he felt released from the urge to learn “Beijing jive.”

The first local jazz musician he met was Liang Heping (the pianist for The Swing

Mandarins), who invited Moser to join a jam session in Maxim’s. Moser recalled Liang’s opening words, “’Welcome,” he said, “We’re absorbing a little of your country’s spiritual pollution here.’”211 Liang Heping had trained as a classical composer from the same institute as Liu Yuan, who Moser described as “more Rachmaninoff than Bill

Evans, but still jazz.”212 Later Liang’s talent and explorations in multiple styles made him a key figure for Chinese music, but mostly unknown by the public. In the 1990s, he became a prolific composer of movie, radio and TV soundtracks, popular songs, and

207 Moser, “The Book of Chang,” 45. 208 Ibid. 209 Ibid, 45-46. 210 Ibid, 46. 211 Ibid, 45. 212 Ibid, 46.

187 played a crucial role in rock music in China. Besides, he was an active critic in the music journalism, advocating for jazz and rock. A car accident in 2012 left him a paraplegic.

Started amusingly with jazz, his story ends in grief and laments as Moser’s recounted.213

On his first jam in Maxim’s, Moser also met Liu Xiaosong (刘效松, the drummer for The Swing Mandarins) and Du Yinjiao (杜银蛟), a saxophonist of the Military Band of the Chinese People’s Liberation Army (中国人民解放军军乐团, PLA). Moser started a lasting friendship with Du, who, although often forgotten by the media, is one of two pioneers of jazz saxophone in Beijing (the other is Liu Yuan). Du was the only professional saxophonist from the earliest Beijing jazz community. He has a perfect articulation with his instrument due to his years in the marching band. Since 1982, he started a self-taught training in jazz only through listening to the Voice of America broadcast.214 However, his perfect articulation, and restrained and honest personality, formed in military life, brought him troubles in conveying the rich expressions of jazz, which sometimes is boldly mocking, sometimes like a helpless gaze through the window.

These troubles have never stopped Du Yinjiao in being a devoted jazz-lover.

According to Moser, Du was his most frequent band member. Into the 2010s, Du reduced his activity on the jazz stage, but still dedicated himself to inviting foreign jazz

213 David Moser, interview by author, Beijing, February 24, 2017. 214 Moser, “The Book of Chang,” 45.

188 musicians for concerts and master-classes in China.215 He compiled textbooks and has had many students come from all over China to study with him in Beijing due to his fame as a prominent saxophonist.

Immediately after meeting Moser in 1993, Du showed him around Beijing’s jazz stages. He brought him to Sanwei Shuwu where Moser met Matt Roberts for the first time. Bonvini was also there and later he, Moser, Du Yinjiao and Liang Heping became the line-up for the Guang Jiao jazz band. The German businessman Udo Hoffmann was another frequent attendee to the jam sessions held in Sanwei Shuwu. He never joined the stage, but kept attending the shows.216 Hoffmann was planning a big event for

Beijing jazz, the first jazz festival in China.

In 1993, just when David Moser had set foot in the local musical community, the

Beijing Jazz Festival inaugurated. Bands and musicians from all over the world were invited. By his outstanding competence in socializing and managing, Hoffmann collected funds and participants from various tunnels and supported the annual jazz festival until 1996. Before its inauguration, the news about the first jazz festival spread like wildfire. Recalled by Moser, no one knows who was the first one brought this information. Somehow in the small world of Beijing jazz, without internet and television advertisements, everyone knew it almost at once the recruitment for

215 David Moser, interview by author, February 24, 2017. 216 Ibid.

189 musicians and bands was released.217

The festival was held in the Poly Theatre (保利剧院), were the most exciting events for the Beijing jazz community. This was not only the first platform for bringing international jazz bands to play with local musicians, but also a broadcasting the Beijing jazz scene to the world. Udo Hoffmann alerted the international musical community that there was a new market with great potential for jazz in Beijing.

However, the eclectic musical styles of this festival attracted doubt those who insisted on “real jazz.” Ranging from U.S. fusion bands to European variants, like the flamenco jazz of Jorge Pardo,218 the new faces were not recognizable to some as jazz.

While it had branched out into multiple styles worldwide, in China, jazz was suspended from its half-century gap and, in the early 1990s, still viewed simply as imported music. This situation made the recognition and definitions of jazz more urgent than further stylistic development based on jazz. But we might ask if it is ever clear, anywhere in the world, what jazz is exactly? Since pop singers have been routinely invited to current American Jazz Festivals, simply to attract larger audiences, we might also ask: could any musical genre live in a vacuum of popular and commercial culture?

217 Ibid. 218 Program of 1995 Beijing Jazz Festival, accessed March 24, 2018, http://www.avantart.com/china/peking96.htm

190

Still, developing since the 1980s, out of the disdain to Old Shanghai jazz, questing for “real jazz” became the norm in the Beijing Jazz community. And this norm served as a crucial assessment standard for this community’s competitions. By the middle 1990s, jazz recordings, which had been the only “textbook” for jazz training since the 1980s, were very scarce. Thus, the possession of this resource was key for advancement in the competition. Unlike Du Yinjiao, who could access Voice of America from the military channel, most musicians relied on buying the music abroad, or from the black market, or through sharing with others. Moser captured the intense competition under the friendly surface of the jazz community, noting:

In fact, one of the most common complaints I heard was that musicians refused to share their precious stash with anyone else, for fear that others would benefit from the musical “secrets” therein and get an edge on them.219

This substantial competition signified the importance of knowing what was “real jazz.” Moser’s accounts of the 1990s (and my fieldwork from 2016 to 2017), reflects that bebop was the most frequently performed style in the center of the local jazz community. And a shared admiration of Miles Davis, in the 1990s and now, revealed that the 1960s and 1970s styles, especially modal jazz, were also viewed as “real,” although not often performed. In the 1980s and 1990s China, the lack of an ultimate judge on the authenticity of jazz performance made recordings imported from the

United States, the birth place of jazz, the final authority for what is real jazz.

219 Moser, “The Book of Chang,” 49.

191

Some musicians, like Liu Yuan, had more opportunities to travel abroad with the institutions they were affiliated with, or were supported by affluent families. These advantages including accessing recordings or even live performances. In the 1990s, Liu

Yuan traveled sporadically to New York City to study jazz. At that time in China it was impossible for a family “of no background” to support children traveling just to study music. Not mentioning the formidable procedure for applying for an U.S. Visa in a still conservative era in China.

Or like Cui Jian, his fame as a protester against the communist dictatorship and promoter of Western musical culture made him very welcome to the Western World.

Banned as a performer in Mainland China, he could tour with his band freely in Hong

Kong or abroad, and thus easily get the recordings he wanted. Those musicians who could not leave Beijing relied on friendships with someone with such advantages, or, they could resort to foreigners like Moser and Roberts for help. Before study opportunities became adequate, recordings were still the ultimate textbook, and if not shared, jam sessions became the only opportunities to learn “real jazz” from others.

Thus, a tendency to play a common style was formed, also reflected in the performances of the Beijing jazz musicians in the earliest jazz festivals. And the notion of real jazz established authority, norms and a hierarchy inside of the Beijing jazz community.

The international jazz festival also brought more perspectives on interpreting jazz, meanwhile, diluting the only standard, the real jazz authorized for competitions

192 within the Beijing jazz community. Growth since this time, diverging stylistic ideals were encouraged by ambition to be the funder of a style, which derived various camps competing inside of the community. Liu Yuan became the quintessential figure for the

“traditional” camp. Jin Hao and Kong Hongwei, later of the Golden Buddha jazz band, led the fusion camp. Liang Heping, with his eclectic musical taste, had no camp and, like many others, operated within a “pan-musical” career. Besides Liang, the “non- camp” musicians formed the main body of the Beijing jazz community, playing with all camps. Later the experimental style players emerged in the 2000s. Xia Jia, Nathaniel

Gao and Xiao Dou, for example, are stayed mainly with the traditional camp for available venues, but never lost their sense of exploration and innovation. Cui Jian, although played jazz with Liu Yuan occasionally, stayed in rock.

Growing up in a family of both traditional and official musical institutions, Liu

Yuan had a better understanding about the cultural environment of China, thus, a better ability to navigate business in the musical circles of Beijing. Musicians with a background in military bands or classical conservatoires, like Du Yinjiao, were from an

“air-delivered” culture, which was not rooted in traditional Chinese society, and landed with Westernization into the enclosed institutions. Experience in the traditional musical community endowed Liu Yuan deeper insight into the entertainment business and social media. Therefore, “real jazz” survived among others and became the mainstream of the current jazz scene of Beijing.

193

Around the time of the first Beijing Jazz Festival, the band Guang Jiao played at the Beijing Hong Kang Macau Center (港澳中心 HKMC). After Bonvini returned to Italy in the middle of 1990s, three members remained, Moser, Du Yinjiao, and Huang Yong, performing with no fixed drummer.220 In Guang Jiao, Moser became pianist and composer. His band members, especially Du, always supported his works, but not did the audiences of the HKMC, which were mainly comprised of Chinese businessmen from Hong Kang, Guangdong and Shenzhen, or foreigners not really interested in jazz.

What the audiences needed was probably the smooth “jazz” from Old Shanghai or pop music and folk songs covered by pop stars like Deng Lijun (邓丽君, 1953-1995).

Discussed previously, the mass import of audio products made jazz recordings more available, but also diluted the market share of jazz with other style recordings. A “Hong

Kong fever” dominated trends in Mainland cities, through which the entertainment business mode, with its super-stars and scandals prevailed in Mainland popular media of the 1990s. Incompatible in terms of marketing strategies, rock, and jazz in Mainland were declining. Additionally, jazz market was also crushed by the rapid urbanization in which holding onto a fixed venue for performance and jam session became impossible.

Meanwhile, the increasing commodity price since the mid-1990s made the payment for

220 David Moser, interview by author, Beijing, February 24, 2017.

194 gigs, comparatively unchanged, less affluent than what Robert had in the late 1980s and the first half of the 1990s.

From the second half of the 1990s to the 2000s, there were fewer and fewer job opportunities for jazz to grow in the Mainland. Jazz musicians had to find spare time to play for pop-stars’ shows. Commercial recordings for TV programs or advertisements.

Many musicians in the jazz-rock community turned to pop or other commercial music groups. Except in Decembers, the needs of the increasing amount of international hotels brought more “Christmas party needs” for combos, which promoted a “Christmas peak” for jazz to survive.221 In spite of this, occupational jazz musician had very hard life, although the restraints on commercial performance had loosened. Most of the musicians in the Beijing jazz community had other jobs. Like Du Yinjiao, Huang Yong, and Liang Heping, they all worked within other institutions providing stable income and warfare. Or like Zhang Longyun, graduated from CCM, the best music conservatoire in China, he earned a livelihood through selling antique furniture.222

In 1996, Du Yinjiao invited Moser to be a guest instructor in a jazz band secretly held for the PLA by the young officers of the marching band. Moser recorded an interesting event in his memoir as he crossed the gate of the PLA institute in Du’s car,

221 Ibid. 222 Johnathan Ansfield, “Marsalis Shows China that Jazz Isn’t Just a Word,” The New York Times, February 23, 2000, accessed March 24, 2018, https://www.nytimes.com/2000/02/23/arts/arts- abroad-marsalis-shows-china-that-jazz-isn-t-just-a-word.html.

195 he had to “duck down in the car so the guard at the checkpoint wouldn’t see me. This subterfuge was met with great mirth by the band.”223 Upon which, the band members joked with Moser: “‘What military secrets are you going to steal,’ they teased me, ‘the chords to the Chinese national anthem?’”224

Contrary to the cheerful environment inside the rehearsing room, Du’s cadre refused his proposal to build a jazz big band in the PLA. No matter how he stressed the artistic and symbolic value of jazz for the suppressed African American, “the army brass was unbending.”225 But nothing stopped Du and his deviant comrades from building the band, which they gave the name Jin Haojiao (金号角, the Golden Horns).

When the band became fluent in getting gigs, the band officials turned their amazed gaze on jazz and took over the band from Du.226

After the opening of CD Cafe, Moser and Du Yinjiao, like all other jazz musicians in Beijing, had become frequent visitors. There, Moser met Izumi Koga, Xia Jia, Liu Yue, and a younger generation of jazz musicians, like Bei Bei. Later in 2000, Moser and Koga formed a band called Inside Out, with Du Yinjiao and bassist Long Long (隆龙), whom he met in 1999 on a gig for the opening of the first Starbucks in Beijing. Liu Xiaoguang

223 Moser, “The Book of Chang,” 53. 224 Ibid. 225 Ibid. 226 Ibid.

196

(the current saxophonist in Ah Q), who just moved to Beijing, was a frequent audience at Inside Out concerts.

Since 1993, Koga and Liu Yuan had been teaching at the new music school,

Beijing MIDI School of Music (北京迷笛音乐学校, MIDI). Moser was introduced to MIDI in 1997.227 He found the school an interesting place with most of the students wearing long, hippie hair, and learning guitar, whereas the jazz program was scarcely populated. Still, since the founding of MIDI, the number of young jazz musicians had grown. After the opening of East Shore Cafe in 2006, he moved his activity there, and met Zhang Ke (张柯, bass), Xiao Dou, Nathaniel Gao (saxophone), and more.

Moser considers 2000 a watershed year for jazz’s development in Beijing,228 when younger generations of musicians entered more important roles on the jazz scene, with more specialized training in jazz. The local stylistic features were also more obvious, and bebop, the “real jazz,” prevailing. Comparatively fixed bands were formed, and the number and quality of the musicians greatly increased, with Liu Yuan’s contribution undeniable.

Wynton Marsalis tour in Beijing also heralded the new era, as he was the first top-level jazz virtuoso to come to China. His visit alerted China as a potential market to the core community of jazz music in the United States, and more prominent American

227 “Staff and Faculty” on MIDI School of Music Official Site. 228 David Moser, interview by author, February, 24, 2017.

197 jazz figures ensued. Marsalis held a concert at the Century Theatre (世纪剧场), but unfortunately coincided with the Spring Festival, time for gathering of Chinese families.229 Moser became the interpreter for Marsalis and accompanied him on travels to Shanghai and Guangzhou.

Moser was chosen for his competence in both Chinese and his knowledge of jazz.

There had previously been problems in translating; much of the Harlem jive, like the

“goosebumps” said by Marsalis, were conundrums for academic translators. In one of the Chinese programs Moser found “C Jam Blues” was translated into “C Major

Confiture Blues (C 大调果酱布鲁斯).”230 In the end, the concerts turned out to be successful. And on February 15, Marsalis visited CD Cafe to conduct a workshop for the local musicians there.231

Moser recalls that, Guangzhou left him best impression in this tour.

Arrangement of the show is satisfiable. The attendees seemed more prepared for what was going on. The journalists asked questions politely and appropriately, and the concerts were a big hit. Marsalis was incredibly friendly. On his tour in Guangzhou, he taught a kid to blow his trumpet, after asked by the kid backstage. However, in Beijing

229 Ansfield, “Marsalis Shows China that Jazz Isn’t Just a Word.” 230 David Moser, interview by author, Beijing, Feb 13, 2017. 231 “JSCO with Wynton Marsalis in Beijing,” Wynton Marsalis Official Site, accessed March 25, 2018, http://wyntonmarsalis.org/tour/detail/11933.

198 and Shanghai, the journalists and theatre staff were very disappointing. They were rude, cold and bureaucratic.

Figure 10. David Moser at Ah Q Arkestra Concert. At the Jiang Hu club. From right front, Matt Roberts, Liu Xiaoguang, from right back, David Moser, Da Zhong, Scott Silverman. Photographed by author.

4.2. Music Schools and the New Generations

4.2.1. MIDI

The Beijing MIDI School of Music was built in 1993, which became the cradle for institutional jazz education in China. It was built for the excluded musical genres in conservatoires. Rock was the most applied major at this school, and Cui Jian and his

199 band members (like Zhang Ling) were instructors there. The MIDI Music Festival (迷笛

音乐节) began at this school in 1997, and later held almost annually, touring around

China after 2008. Jazz bands were also invited to the MIDI festival, although fewer in number. In 1993, Liu Yuan introduced Izumi Koga to MIDI, where Koga started his career as the founder for jazz drums education in China. His two students in the 1990s,

Bei Bei and Xiao Dou, became the most important of their generation. After graduation,

Bei Bei stayed in MIDI as faculty. Huang Yong was the bass instructor at MIDI. Hence, institutionalized education for jazz in China was prepared for quartets.

4.2.2. Xia Jia

In 1995, the CCM composer and pianist Xia Jia, originated from Ningxia Province

(宁夏), started his jazz career in Beijing, and joined the teaching faculty of MIDI.

Stepping out into the Beijing jazz community from there, he soon became a prominent jazz pianist in China. He moved with Koga from the MIDI school to the BCMA in 1999.

The next year Xia Jia moved to Rochester, New York to attend the Eastman School of music. He joined in the Eastman Jazz Ensemble upon arrival, and studied jazz piano with Harold Danko. In June 2001, Down Beat named the Eastman Jazz Ensemble “the best collegiate-level jazz big band in the country” and invited a quartet (Xia Jia was on piano) of Harold Danko’s students to play for a noon-hour program at the 18th JVC Jazz

200

Festival.232 In 2004, Xia Jia obtained a bachelor degree in Jazz Studies and Contemporary

Media from Eastman,233 and came back to Beijing the same year.

No matter from which camp, insisting on which style, Xia Jia possesses the shared admiration of the entire Chinese jazz community. His CCM trained instrumental skills, gentle and amiable manner, and his heartfelt passion disclosed when he plays piano, all of these, made him a magnet on any stage. Xia Jia has characterized one of the most important features of the second-generation Beijing jazz community—a broader view on styles. But Xia Jia’s broadness is based on a training in traditional jazz. As one of the denizens at the East Shore, Xia Jia Trio, with various cast, is often a return to jazz’s history. From “Caravan” to “Anthropology,” he uses his tranquil piano tone to delineate the mania of the past.234 Furthermore, his interest in Chick Corea made him accumulated a considerable repertoire of Corea’s music, like “Spain,” which he played on his solo concert in the Forbidden City Concert Hall (中山音乐堂) at December 29,

2008.235 It was in the decades of 2000s, that his interest in experimental jazz attracted future band members of the Red Hand jazz band (红手).

232 Ray Rickier and Harold Danko, “Down Beat Honors Jazz at Eastman,” Eastman News 20, no. 24 (Fall 2001): pp. 36-37, accessed March 29, 2018, https://www.esm.rochester.edu/pdf/notes/NotesFall2001.pdf. 233 “Bachelor of Music Degree Candidates,” Eastman School of Music: 79th Commencement, Sunday May 16, 2004, 11: 15 a.m., accessed March 29, 2018, https://www.esm.rochester.edu/registrar/files/2014/05/Commencement2004.pdf. 234 Xia Jia Trio in East Shore Cafe, Beijing, February 22, 2017, recorded by author. 235 Xia Jia at the Forbidden City Concert Hall, accessed YouTube, March 26, 2018, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wj-sqJMRnCg.

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Figure 11. Xia Jia on the 18th JVC Jazz Festival, in the acritical by Ray Rickier and Harold Danko, “Down Beat Honors Jazz at Eastman,” Eastman News 20, no. 24 (Fall 2001), 36-37.

202

Figure 12. BCMA main building Tong Zhou, Beijing. Photographed by author, March 15, 2017

Figure 13. J. Kyle Gregory’s big band class, BCMA, Beijing. Photographed by author, March 13, 2017.

203

4.2.3. BCMA and Gao Kao

Again in 1993, the Beijing Contemporary Music School was founded in Zhiqiang

Yuan of the Haidian District.236 Initially as a privately owned instructional organization, the school did not provide full-time courses, and due to various problems in licensing and contracts, had been moving around the city. In 1996, it was renamed as the Beijing

Contemporary Music Academy (BCMA).237 In 1999, the school was finally settled down, with a vocational school was divided from the BCMA, and jazz courses offered at the original academy. Around this time, jazz musicians gradually moved from MIDI to

BCMA. Xia Jia, Italian pianist Moreno Donadel, and Koga, were among the earliest faculty of the jazz courses at BCMA. Since 1999, they have recruit new members of the

Beijing jazz community continuously to this school. The recruitment enlarged the jazz portion of BCMA into a substantial department. Henceforth, jazz musicians were and remain the core staff of the academy.

Now the jazz department became has most internationalized community of

BCMA, with complete sections for jazz music. Solo classes are held by individual instructors in practice rooms. A big band and various sizes of ensembles are held in classes. Besides the prominent local musicians, guest artists are invited frequently to

236 “History of BCMA,” Beijing Contemporary Music Academy, accessed March 27, 2018, http://bjcma.com/xyjj/xycj/9516.html. 237 Beijing Contemporary Music Academy Portal, accessed March 26, 2018, http://www.bjcma.com/college/jslxy/xyjj/5750.html

204 give master classes. Harmony, instrumentation, improvisation and other theory courses are held in public classrooms. And a course for jazz history, mandatory for the jazz major, is open to all majors as a means to promote jazz to a broader young public.

The current location of BCMA is in Tong Zhou (通州) District, where was yet a remote suburban area of Beijing in 1999. Far from the densely populated downtown, this school obtained a large parcel of land at a very low cost. Its campus thus became the biggest for music school in Beijing, even larger than the best music academy of

China, the CCM. In the following decades, the roaring estate prices extended into suburban areas of Beijing, even till the adjacent Hebei Province, while BCMA owned the land bought before the price went up, which granted this school huge advantages and potential.

Figure 14. Vacant land around BCMA, Tong Zhou District, Beijing. Photographed by author, March 13, 2017.

205

Additionally, since 2010s, the more severe conditions of over-population and air- pollution forced the central government to decide, in 2016, to move the center of the local administration to the Tong Zhou District, for which the bureau of Beijing planned to build close to the BCMA. A dramatic increase of investment thus ensued and infrastructure came under construction. With the underground line, Batong (八通), transportation web and residentials are expanding around BCMA. The future seems promising.

Besides these prospects for a good future, in an interview, Song Junguang (宋军

光), the dean of jazz department, also disclosed his concerns about the development of the jazz program. Unlike state-funded conservatoires, BCMA faces more financial problems as a private school. To attract students, they make almost no conditions for the acceptance, as long as parents pay the tuition fee.238 Although the tuition fee is comparatively high, BCMA attract abundant students every year. This is because a considerable portion of students nationally are filtered by the Gao Kao. Pressed by increasing job scarcity, especially fewer opportunities in urban areas, parents are often desperate to find a school for their children to further their education after high school.

To survive, BCMA has to accept all applicants, sacrificing the quality of the source of students.

238 Song Junguang, interview by author, Tong Zhou, Beijing, March 13, 2017.

206

Nevertheless, there are many talented students, especially in the jazz department. A faculty of prominent jazz players in Beijing, and the guest artists frequently invited from abroad, make BCMA attractive for young jazz aficionados.

Song also actively promotes the programs of his department by, for example, inviting

American college bands or holding the China Drum Summit (鼓手节).239 But for the rest of this school, the average quality of students left a miserable impression on the public, even reducing the chances of good students wanting to apply. People would think that schools like BCMA, as well as MIDI, or private schools in general, are for bad students who cannot pass the Gao Kao. And jazz students who come from BCMA are underestimated. Especially in 2015, a drug-use scandal at MIDI caused a crisis of its credibility,240 which added more evidence for stereotyping private music schools.

Seeing jazz’s rising reputation in the media, the traditional conservatoires sensed the potential revenue increase they could obtain from those once excluded genres, and began to include jazz majors or minors into their curriculums. In 2000, Nanjing

University of the Arts (南京艺术学院) opened a jazz major in their performing program

(音乐表演系) in the School of Popular Music (流行音乐学院).241 In 2003, Shanghai

239 “2013 China Drum Summit Program,” BCMA News, April 3, 2013, accessed March 27, 2018, http://news.bjcma.com/xgxw/zhxx/2013/04/03/9032.html. 240 Anonymous, “MIDI Music School’s Drug Case,” Legal China, November 28, 2015, accessed March 26, 2018, http://www.china.com.cn/legal/2015-11/28/content_37184058.htm. 241 “Musical Performing Program for Popular Music,” School of Popular Music, in Nanjing University of the Arts Official Site, accessed March 27, 2018, http://pop.nua.edu.cn/2010/1202/c1678a25856/page.htm.

207

Conservatoire of Music (上海音乐学院) established the Contemporary Instrumental and

Percussion Department (现代器乐与打击乐), 242 under which a jazz major was offered starting in 2005.243 In 2006, Sichuan Conservatoire also offer a jazz minor under their saxophone program in the Contemporary Instrumental Department (现在器乐系).244

Later at the Central Conservatoire of Music (CCM), a jazz minor was offered in the piano department.245 Around 2010, Wuhan Conservatoire offers a jazz major in its

School of Performance (演艺学院).246

This appearance of jazz majors and minors in authorized institutions has denoted the recognition of jazz’s value in the academic realm, which also confirmed jazz musicians as a justified occupation in the public. This is very important for the growth of the Chinese jazz community: it encouraged parents to consider jazz an option as their children’s future career; the recruitment of young musicians into jazz community would go smoother and jazz musicians could benefit more financially from tutoring pupils. Conservatoire trained jazz musicians began to appear, like Bai Tian (白

242 “Contemporary Instrumental and Percussion Program,” in Shanghai Conservatoire of Music Official Site, accessed March 27, 2018, http://www.shcmusic.edu.cn/info_22.aspx?cid=33&ppid=33. 243 Du Shasha, “Jazz New Development Inquiry in Shanghai Contemporary Urban Music Culture: JZ Brand for Example 2004—2014,” (master’s thesis, Shanghai Conservatoire of Music, 2015), 10. 244 “Contemporary Instrumental Program,” in Sichuan Conservatoire of Music Official Site, accessed March 27, 2018, http://www.sccm.cn/department/about.asp?id=10. 245 “Piano Department,” in Central Conservatoire of Music Official Site, accessed March 27, 2018, http://www.ccom.edu.cn/jxyx/gqx/. 246 “School of Performing Program,” in Wuhan Conservatoire of Music Official Site, accessed March 27, 2018, http://yyxy.whcm.edu.cn/xbgk.htm.

208

天) from Nanjing University of the Arts. However, in general, these jazz majors or minors remain of little importance in the conservatoires, and the best jazz musicians of

China had remained mostly outside the state funded institutions, but primarily on faculty at BCMA.

Due to their important role at BCMA, as they brought for the school’s considerable income and most talented students, jazz musicians have more freedom at

BCMA than those in the state-owned music schools, especially in curriculum setting and faculty recruitment. They arrange the courses and necessary activities, like master- classes, concerts, even encourage the students to attending jam sessions at jazz clubs, without tedious administrative paper works, or risks of potential recusal from officials for bringing young people to nightlife areas. They invite their band-members or musicians from New York City to hold master-classes, as new faculty appointments, or to perform for concerts, without having to wait in a long queue for program funds or the positions offered. The founding of MIDI and BCMA has thus been crucial for the development of jazz in Beijing, providing affiliations to the Chinese jazz community, who may obtain stable income and respect in teaching in institutions, as well as normalized recruitment rates.

Moreover, the success of the jazz department at BCMA offers a potential remedy to the long been ignored dimensions of competition, by providing alternative choices for success. In the past, the only way to get formal post-high-school education was to

209 pass Gao Kao, which generalized the criteria of evaluating students only through scores on their papers. In resent criticisms, Gao Kao was often associated with keju, the imperial exam in ancient China. Before keju was implemented in the Sui Dynasty (581-

618 AD), both bureaucratic system and the higher education were occupied purely by aristocratic cliques, or the shi jia (世家, the clan), whose control over educational and bureaucratic institutions became an obstacle for the emperor to centralize the power.

Thus, the emperor enacted keju, offering administrative positions through the evaluation of talent, rather than lineage.

The resumption of Gao Kao in 1977 terminated the age of gongnongbing xueyuan

(工农兵学员, “students from the worker-peasant-soldier union”), who were students with a pure proletarian background. During the Cultural Revolution, a pure proletarian background was described as genzhang miaohong (根正苗红), “with upright root and red sprout,” which became the ultimate criterion for universities to accept students, in the end reserved the higher education for the “red aristocrats.” Since 1977, Gao Kao replaced the former standards based on class backgrounds with examination scores, to a considerable measurement, ensuring more fairness in competition.

On the other hand, keju and Gao Kao eventually sustained an occupational hierarchy. Under the influence of the morality and hierarchy established in the Han

Dynasty (206 BC-220 AD), wen ren (文人, literati) became the only well regarded occupation; merchants and musicians were especially discriminated. Thus, keju, as the

210 only way for civilians to step into upper-class, gradually turned into a royal sanction on talents, by which interests of the emperors and their authorized ideologies became the foremost concern for the Chinese intellectuals. The monotonous test in literature made literary talent and calligraphy the paramount standards for competition.

Like keju, Gao Kao limited the criterion for intellectuals into a unified set of nine subjects: Chinese literature, mathematics, English, geography, political theory, history, biology, physics and chemistry. As most of the resources were concentrated in the top universities in major cities, vocational colleges and lower-rank universities were almost abandoned. Competition for getting into the top universities was intensified by the monotonous standards and the insufficient and unbalanced distribution of educational resources, which also defined talent in the public view simply by scores in the nine subjects. Besides, job opportunities are often tied to the name of the university on the degree, which has in turn, strengthened this public view and formed a hierarchy among graduates.

Professional music education had its own course in China. Distained as the bottom of the social categories in the traditional society, musicians had their own set of standards for talents and norms in competition. The reputation of musical talent was forged in musical sub-societies, whose norms and skills were transmitted through lineage or between tutors and apprentices. There was one exception in guqin music, which has always been considered as the spirit of Chinese literati, thus transmitted

211 broadly among elites, and rarely entering in competitions. Modern musical institutions were established in the early modernization period (discussed in Chapter 3) which brought students with no “musical lineage” into the professional education arena.

However, the breakdown of public education during the Cultural Revolution confined the music transmission back to the musical sub-societies again.

Unlike other knowledge, musical virtuosity requires uninterrupted training from childhood. Especially in instrumental music and Beijing opera, the high demand for training ruled out almost all adult learners from the stage. But ten years of Cultural

Revolution deprived the opportunity for outsiders to gain serious musical training steadily. The advantage of being children of professional musicians emerged in the

1980s. When the country gradually set out to make opportunities for everyone on the normal track, job opportunities in musical institutions were in practice prepared for the candidates with a “good musical lineage.” This explains why the earliest jazz and rock musicians all came from professional musical communities. For example, the father of

Chinese jazz, Liu Yuan was from a suona family, and joined the Beijing Musical Troops in 1979.

Before the mid-2000s, major musical conservatoires were practically monopolized by students from the “musical clans,” although this monopoly was a result of the conventional ignoring of talent outside of the nine subjects in Gao Kao.

And the humble income of musicians caused many of the children from musical

212 families to take Gao Kao instead of attending conservatoires. Thus, music, as their children’s future career, was not favored even among the parents of the music communities. Since the 2000s, the advocation in “quality education (素质教育)” resulted in a policy to add from five to fifty points to the Gao Kao score if the student has a

“special talent” (特长) in music, sports, or fine art. Music training was promoted by this policy and the parents started to bring their kids to training schools or private tutors.

This brought great improvement to the income of music majors.

Conservatoires attempted to grasp this opportunity for a long been suspended development. A previously enlarged quota for the acceptance in high school, and the more efficient strategies of examination developed by schools, adding intensity to the competition in Gao Kao. Around 2005, the need of a degree from desperate students, who were overwhelmed by the formidable competition of Gao Kao, met the need for funds of conservatoires, bringing a dramatic application boom for conservatoires.

However, in general the view that musician is less preferred occupation had not changed immediately.

In the 2010s when talented graduates from the application boom for conservatoires became well-known figures in media, music as an occupation was taken more seriously. This was good news for parents and students who now had many alternatives in higher education and future careers, rather than only Gao Kao. But the exposure on corruption scandals in accepting applicants was growing with the

213 application boom which damaged greatly the authority of conservatoires.

Jazz, from African American tradition, demands continuous practice and thorough studies in repertoires. However, in China, it has long been ignored in formal musical education. The rise of new music schools like BCMA has probably aided in changing the conventional view on occupations, and to normalize the education and competition of jazz music in institutions. If normalized, the new majors in jazz would offer even more alternative choices for young people, allowing them to develop their talents, and to achieve expertise and recognitions.

4.2.4. Xiao Dou

Xiao Dou (小豆), literally “little bean,” is the nick name for drummer Liu Xingyu

(刘兴宇), who was born in 1979, in Beijing. The dramatic changes of the 1980s accompanied his childhood. He recalled that, “The 1980s were very open to music; it was my parents age, when you could hear whatever you wanted in Beijing.”247 As a teenager in the 1990s, the entertainment business attracted considerable local people to the bars. “There was a term called hun par (混拍儿, “hung out in parties”). People called the ones out at night to “hun” (混, “muddle”).248 This term hints at a more or less negative connotation, but was used by nightlife denizens sarcastically to describe their

247 Xiao Dou, interview by author, Beijing, January 20, 2017. 248 Xiao Dou, interview by author, Beijing, March 30, 2016.

214 frequenting clubs. There were many kinds of clubs, some with music called in the

Beijing accent “rock par,” “electric par” or “folk par.” But there was only one “jazz par”—the CD Cafe. According to Xiao Dou, around 1995 the owner of CD Cafe wanted to book some jazz. He found Liu Yuan and invited him for a collaboration.249 Famous for insisting on “real jazz,” CD Cafe turned into CD Jazz Cafe under Liu Yuan’s influence, and jazz became the only music supported on stage there.

By 1997, Xiao Dou had decided to study music and set his future career. His neighbor and friend, Bei Bei, brought him to CD Cafe one night, to see Izumi Koga play drums. That night they saw Liu Yuan’s concert, with Xia Jia and Izumi Koga. The bar was full of people who looked “wise and academic;”250 standing, or sitting, and very concentratedly listening. “I’m not sure what they got from the stage, but they were just listening in peace”251 Impressed by the atmosphere, and motivated by Izumi Koga’s performance, Xiao Dou started to come every week, especially for the big-band sessions every Friday and Sunday. Thus, he was noticed by Koga and Liu Yuan. Both natives of

Beijing, Xiao Dou became familiar with Liu Yuan soon. After meeting Koga, Xiao Dou decided to study drums with him, and attended the MIDI in 1998, where Liu Yuan,

Koga and Xia Jia taught.

249 Ibid. 250 Ibid. 251 Ibid.

215

Figure 15. Xiao Dou at the Blue Note Beijing, January 6, 2017. Photographed by author.

216

Around 2002, Xiao Dou graduated from MIDI and kept a schedule going to CD

Cafe, sometimes to gigs, the rest of his time practicing at home. During this period, he rapidly improved his drumming. Coinciding with Liu Yuan’s attempt to form a new big band, Xiao Dou was recruited as drummer. Soon he got familiar with trumpet player

Wen Zhiyong (文智勇), who played with Roberts in Left Hand jazz band (1994), and was Xia Jia’s collegemate at the CCM. The two later became members of the Red Hand band. Xiao Dou thus became a notable member of the Beijing jazz community, and Liu

Yuan often shared with him his collection of jazz records. Xiao Dou recalled that Liu

Yuan kept those CDs in very good condition, always with the plastic cover over the box.

He would open the cover carefully, and blow the dust of the box, and the CD player, and clean the box with his hand. He used these CDs to educate me. He would tell me to listen to John Coltrane, and some others, perhaps still too early for me, I should listen to them later.252

As Xiao Dou recalls, there were always up and downs at CD Cafe. Sometimes, when it was closed for long stretches, Xiao Dou and his band members went to play at the Zang Ku (藏酷) bar on Gongti North Street (工体北路), returning to CD Cafe when it reopened. From the late 1990s, Beijing was in rapid urbanization until the beginning of the 2010s. During this urbanization, the city’s endless construction significantly influenced the ordinary activities in the jazz community. Sadly, the 2000s saw many members of the Beijing jazz community move into other occupations, but also brought a

252 Xiao Dou, interview by author, Beijing, March 30, 2016.

217 peak of young local musicians to study abroad.

Xia Jia left Beijing to the United States in 2000. When he came back around 2004, he already had a considerable reputation in China. That year, an American-Chinese musician, Nathaniel Gao, came into CD Cafe and saw Xia Jia was play piano there. Gao was amazed by Xia Jia’s playing, and when he returned two years later, they formed a band together.253

Before Liu Yuan moved to East Shore in 2006, Xiao Dou left the big band to

Shenzhen (深圳), where he played with all kinds of musicians, in all styles and with all nationalities. Around 2006, Xiao Dou came back to Beijing and met Xia Jia and Wen

Zhiyong again. He also met Nathaniel Gao, who had just arrived in China when Xiao

Dou went to Shenzhen. The three told him they had decided to form a band. While talking about the plans, Wen Zhiyong was driving his second-or-more-hand red Xiali (a local car brand, mainly used for taxis) with the future bandmembers. The phrase “red hand” came out of Gao’s comment of on Wen Zhiyong’s red car, and became the name of the band. The Red Hand (红手) jazz band was then in need of a bass player. The only bass student in BCMA’s jazz major, Da Huai (大淮, a nickname for Wang Chenhuai, 王

晨淮), was recruited at once.254

253 Nathaniel Gao, interview by author, BCMA, Tong Zhou, Beijing, March 15, 2017. 254 Ibid.

218

Da Huai, born in Tianjin (天津), an adjacent city to Beijing, started learning guitar as a child, and played in bands with his collegemates. Before attending BCMA, Da Huai majored in lighting design. When he accompanied his friend to Beijing to apply to

BCMA, he was also accepted, and changed his major to bass soon after.255 Having practiced bass only a few years, Da Huai’s playing was seen as having great potential by his bandmates. For a period of time, Red Hand was mostly in rehearsals. “Our music couldn’t fall in to the mainstream,” said Xiao Dou, “some famous jazz players had many places where they could perform, but this was not the case for us.”256 Even though Xia Jia and Wen Zhiyong were well-known within the jazz community, Red

Hand’s music was not received very warmly. Although a talented musician, Nathaniel

Gao had just come to Beijing, and had not yet achieved recognition from the jazz community. Being experimental jazz, Red Hand’s music was “hard bread” for the live music market of Beijing.

Nevertheless, Nathaniel Gao found someone who wanted to schedule regular dates with the band: Mikel, who owned a club in the university circle of Beijing.257 The club was called D22, located in Wudao Kou (五道口), where they played every Sunday night. Wudao Kou is the district where Kent State University China Center is now

255 Yu Jiaxiong, “Correct and Wrong: Interview with Bassist Wang Chenhuai,” Chinese Jazz Writing Collective, June 30, 2011, accessed March 29, 2018, http://www.chinese-jazz-writing- collective.info/2013/06/30/chenhuai_wang_interview/. 256 Xiao Dou, interview by author, Beijing, March 30, 2016. 257 Ibid.

219 located. Surrounded by Beijing University, Qinghua University (清华大学), Beijing

Foreign Language and Culture University (北京语言大学), and the China Geosciences

University (中国地质大学), the once outskirt area experienced a population boom in the

2000s. In 2002, the newly opened underground 13 Line attracted more attention from investors for building shopping malls or residentials. Just to the east of Beijing

University, where David Moser once lived, a new expatriate community rose up around

Wudao Kou with the influx of international students in this area. By mid-2000s, the district became another site for live performances.

Red Hand was the first jazz band performing in Wudao Kou, and the only band that played experimental jazz in China. D22, the host, was a well-known rock club in the area, and which Xiao Dou joked about in the “mis-location” of this band. “We are a jazz band in a rock bar, and we are playing experimental jazz in China.”258 But the owner, Mikel, who had very broad taste in music, hired them anyway. D22 was located on Cheng Fu Road (成府路) between the east gate of Beijing University and Wudao Kou underground station.

Students from the surrounding universities supplied their main audiences. In

2000s China, most students listened to Chinese pop, Japanese pop, the hip-hop pop of

Jay Chou (周杰伦), or foreign punk bands like the Backstreet Boys. The abundance of

258 Ibid.

220 international students offered more opportunity for rock musicians in the Wudao Kou district. Besides Red Hand, Mikel “sheltered” many other experimental rock bands.

“Interestingly, our band, the Red Hand, was sensed by the jazz community as odd,”

Xiao Dou commented, “the same as how the rock bands in D22 were considered by the rock main stream in China.”259 But jazz, especially experimental jazz, was still a cold corner for any audiences. According to Xia Dou, their only audience were the waiters and bartenders, and even these people were frowning on the music. Gradually, the staff in the bar applauded for them, and audiences started to appear. The reception for Red

Hand went “from no one at the beginning, to very hot Sundays in the end.”260

During their time at the D22, the band members were happy and detached from the concern of earning an income. They improved greatly, and formed tacit bonds with each other in music. Xiao Dou described that period as a “utopia,” where they played the music at will and obtained recognition in the end. However, the recognition did not result in more income. The bar was operated for college students, so drinks were very cheap and the sets were free. This brought problems for Mikel, who already struggled to maintain the bar. Bands were paid at a fixed rate of 100 yuan per person ($12 around

2007) for each night, while the average payment was 400. Despite of this, Red Hand insisted on playing at D22 for some two years. Finally, around 2008, they moved to

259 Xiao Dou, interview by author, Beijing, March 30, 2016. 260 Ibid.

221

CGW where they could get 600 yuan per person. The improved income helped the band to develop better, and members of Red Hand reluctantly left the D22 after lingering for a long period. Once they left, old audiences often to ask Michel why Red Hand was not there anymore.

However, Xiao Dou soon regretted his decision to leave. He found the utopia they formed in D22 was ruined by the commercial taste of the manager at CGW.

The boss told me he wanted to do jazz, but wasn’t the same jazz as we understood…. I talked with you about this topic, there are different perspectives in looking at the arts in this world. Sometimes our music was interfered [by the boss]. Of course, the suggestion wouldn’t be too excessive, he wanted us to play something more like pop, catering to the taste of the audiences. Sometimes he required the customs. I wouldn’t say it was wrong, but it was too far from the Utopia we experienced before, when we had more space and freedom in music, for arts’ sake. But then we felt like a routine job there. 261

After half a year playing there, Red Hand left CGW, and started playing around the city. But the mood and the utopia were gone. In 2008, Da Huai was accepted by the

Prince Clause Conservatoire (PCC) in the Netherlands, and Red Hand officially disbanded upon his departure. The memories of the band, especially their times at D22, are still cherished by all its members. They kept contact with each other, but their frequent traveling made reassembling the band impossible. In 2009, Xiao Dou also applied to PCC and was accepted. In the next year, Nathaniel Gao left Beijing, returning to the United State for his master’s in jazz at the City University of New York. Only Xia

261 Xiao Dou, interview by author, Beijing, March 30, 2016.

222

Jia and Wen Zhiyong stayed in Beijing. Soon, Wen Zhiyong quit his music career to study environmental design. During the last year in PCC, Xiao Dou was sent by the conservatoire to New York City, where he frequented the jazz bars. When he was studying abroad, Xiao Dou realized the importance of the jazz traditions in its innovations. While still holding great interests in experimenting, Xiao Dou paid more attention in exploring the traditional repertoires.

In the same year Da Huai left Beijing, a new jazz bar called OT Lounge (大班) opened on Ritan Lu (日坛路). The manager of the bar, Leon, was a friend of Nathaniel

Gao, and invited him to plan a jazz program there. Hence, OT Lounge became a place for the members of Red Hand to gather. Besides, new jazz clubs, like Jiang Hu and DDC had opened one after another since the second half of the 2000s. When Xiao Dou came back to Beijing, there were many more stages for gigs. Besides touring around all major jazz bars in the city, or all over China, he still plays regular gigs at East Shore, often with Zhang Ke, Moreno Donadel and Nathaniel Gao. He also substitutes for Scott

Silverman in Ah Q from time to time, and teaches individual classes at BCMA in jazz drumming, and signing with Zildjian as an advertising endorser. In 2016, the opening of

Blue Note Beijing became a new site for Xiao Dou’s activity.

Although a prominent jazz drummer in China, Xiao Dou is rarely seen in the media. Even recently, when the musical journalism has paid more and more attention to the jazz community, as this scarce occupation in China (jazz drumming), Xiao Dou’s

223 fame is still limited to local music circles. The reasons could involve his lack of self- marketing strategies, or the persisting impact of the utopia left by memories of Red

Hand. Suppressed by efforts long unrecognized by society, an inner conflict between this memory of utopia and the current obligations for survival, in a commercializing world promoted by the musical media, is intensified, typical outcome of the shared dilemma for members of the jazz community in Beijing.

4.2.5. Moreno Donadel

Moreno Donadel was born into a musical family in Conegliano, Italy. He started learning piano and accordion in childhood, and went to the Corelli Institute and the

Pollini Music Conservatoire of Padova.262 Moreno was trained in a classical conservatoire, while playing all kinds of styles with local bands. Besides music, he has trained in martial art since he was a child. He came to Beijing in 1998, attending the

Beijing Sports University to learn Chinese martial arts. Fascinated by the still ancient city, he decided to stay there.263

More the recent developments of Beijing, however, have upset Moreno. He complained about the too-rapid growth of the city and commented, politely, but with an ironic tone:

262 “Moreno Donadel Music Bio” October 20, 2016, accessed March 24, 2018, http://www.morenodonadel.com/music-bio-01/ 263 Moreno Donadel, interview by author, Beijing, March 16, 2016.

224

No one knows what is going to happen tomorrow. Today you open your window, there was nothing, but tomorrow there could be a new building. Today there was a building behind yours, and tomorrow it could disappear, or they turn it into a school or a park. That’s very exciting for me.264 Common knowledge among foreigners living in 1990s’ Beijing, the existence of

CD Cafe was soon noticed by Moreno. He went there, played there, and found his future band members there. In 1999, Moreno started his own band, the Moreno Donadel

Trio, with Liu Yue and Izumi Koga.265 Like other bands in Beijing, the line-up has continuously changed, and sometimes became a quartet. That year, Moreno also started teaching at BCMA. After Liu Yuan moved to East Shore Cafe, Moreno also moved his activity there, for wherever Liu Yuan is in charge, there will be a grand piano on the stage. Soon Moreno found the beautiful view of Shicha Hai through the window of East

Shore and was amazed by it.

This is China, not like some other places, like Europe. Here, with the lake, the bridge and the houses, is very Chinese. Every time when I am playing, there is a big window in front of me, and this view is the old part of Beijing. I like it very much.266 Starting with the Moreno Donadel Trio, Moreno became a member of the Beijing jazz community, and gradually well-known in Chinese jazz circles. Musicians from

Tianjin, came by train to study with Moreno. In 2009, Feng Wei, a pianist from Harbin

(the capital of Heilongjiang, China’s northernmost province) came to Tianjin.

264 Ibid. 265 “Moreno Donadel Profile” in Faculty and Staff on BCMA. 266 Ibid.

225

Figure 16. Moreno Donadel, photographed by his private photographer in his home in Beijing.

226

Introduced by a musician (a former student of Moreno) in Tianjin, he met Moreno and often consulted with him after moving to Beijing. Feng recalled that,

He (Moreno) is very kindhearted, I can schedule [a lesson] with him as long as I have problems. He would always explain to me patiently, and insist on not having a tuition fee from me. I consider him as Norman Bethune [a Canadian physician, famous for helpfulness in China] in the musical world, a Bethune from Italy. 267

Occupied by his many roles as model, actor, piano instructor and full-time musician, Moreno has still not fully experienced the traditional culture of Beijing except its architecture. In an international community around Beijing’s jazz scene, Moreno often unconsciously stresses his Italian nationality through music. “An Italian flavor” flits out in his improvisational references. Sometimes, he might respond in trade with themes of classical jazz repertoire, or develop cues from others with an Italian melodic passage. Asked about the Italian style, he recounted that jazz came into Italy before

World War II, and greatly influenced the popular music there. However, he disclosed, he became more Italian once he was a foreigner.

I found out the more I stay in China, the more I found my Italian roots. In Italy I’d like to play American jazz, but here I want to be more Italian, and am more inclined to play some Italian style of music.268

Although facing many challenges in developing jazz music in China, Moreno is still optimistic about Beijing. Having a broad interest in musical styles, he is especially

267 Feng Wei, interview by author, Beijing, February 13, 2017. 268 Moreno Donadel, interview by author, Beijing, March 16, 2016.

227 into jazz for its freedom in expression, and the challenges of knowledge and response.

These characteristics of jazz bond him with endlessly practicing and innovating, which he believes eventually bring the audiences enjoyment and curiosity. He views Beijing as an open and inclusive culture, and expects a bright future for jazz there. Recently,

Moreno has played at East Shore, Chao, and often travels to New York City to take lessons with masters like Fred Hersch. His quartet at East Shore now includes Zhang

Ke, Xiao Dou and Nathaniel Gao, also his colleagues at BCMA. And his Moreno

Donadel Trio is with Zhang Ke and Xiao Dou.

4.2.6. Nathaniel Gao

Nathaniel Gao (高太行) was born in 1983, California. When he was 3, he went to see one of his mother’s relatives playing a contrabass saxophone in a saxophone quartet called “Nuclear Whales.” Gao’s mother told him that he felt in love with saxophone at that moment.269 He remembered the word jazz when listening to his grandfather’s old records of Benny Goodman and Billy Holliday. His grandfather was an amateur clarinet player. Every time he visited his grandparents, he could hear jazz records playing.

However, when he was still in a very young age, the voice of Billy Holliday was

“haunting” for him.270 As he grew up, he found himself more and more into jazz. He

269 Nathaniel Gao, interview by author, BCMA, Tong Zhou, Beijing, March 15, 2017. 270 Ibid.

228 was encouraged by his parents to play various instruments and he played classical guitar for some time. When he was in grade four in primary school, he could learn a string instrument according to the school requirement, so he played cello for a year.

And in the next year, when he could finally pick up a wind instrument, he immediately chose saxophone. His grandfather bought him the first saxophone, which was made in

Taiwan.

By getting into junior high, his mother found a teaching position in the

University of Iowa. His family thus moved into Iowa City, and he started to learn jazz saxophone with a graduate student in the university, and joined in the middle school band later. In high school he attended the school big band and started to form bands with older students. They rehearsed in the house of the drummer, but did not have many gigs.

The first gig of him coincided with a graduation ceremony of his high school.

Although he was not about to graduate, Gao had to attend the march for the ceremony as one of the members of the school band. The task in the marching band was tedious for him comparing to playing in his jazz combos. Anxious about being late for his first gig, he slipped away from the parade with his “remarkable” green custom and ran into the bar, Sanctuary, the only jazz club in Iowa City.

229

Figure 17. Nathaniel Gao at the Blue Note Beijing. Photographed by author, January 6, 2017.

230

The marching band was always a reluctant obligation for him, as he had been serious in jazz. He went to college in the University of Northern Iowa, where he postponed joining the marching band until the last year. Even while attending the band, he tried various strategies to get out from it as soon as possible. In the end, he got a D minor in the marching band score, and the next year the university revoked the requirement on marching band for wind majors.

After graduating from University of Northern Iowa, Gao went to a state school in a small town in Iowa. The school had a great jazz program, but the culture of the town was typical “pure white” of the Midwest. With a biracial background and a long experience in multi-cultural places, Nathaniel Gao felt very uncomfortable in his second college. And this stressful environment of the small town worn out the passion of him on music. He did not want to do anything related to music anymore. At this moment, questing for his Chinese roots became more and more attractive for him. Born to an

American mother and a Chinese father, Gao remembered that he always tried to integrate into the American culture. The Chinese roots of him had been neglected in his growing up. The experience in a small town of the Midwest made him more and more curious about the “unknown part” in his blood.

Thus, Gao decided to come to China for learning Chinese even before he finished college. He had been to China many times in his childhood before he finally decided to come as an adult. The first memory he had about China was in age 3, when he came to

231

Beijing with his parents. He remembers seeing people in the streets wearing similar clothes, in green or in blue in general. He found a big hole on the floor of the bus. He remembered his uncle beheading a chicken just in front of him, for cooking some cuisine for the guests. These scary experiences faded as he grew up.

In 2004 he went to Laiyuan of Hebei Province (河北省涞源县), where his father grew up. He heard about many times the story of his ancestors from his father. In ancient times, one of his father’s ancestors was a pharmacist who collected herbs in Tai

Hang Mountain, where Gao’s Chinese name (Gao Tai Hang, 高太行) came from. And one day he got lost in the mountain while collecting herbs and never came back. It was a sad story, but for Gao this story, which happened in Tai Hang Mountain, is part of who he is.

After he arrived in Beijing, some friends of Gao’s mother told her about CD Cafe.

He thus went there with his saxophone, and saw Xia Jia, who had just came back from the United States, playing piano on the stage. Recalled by Nathaniel Gao, Xia Jia was an amazing musician. Upon this trip, Gao decided to start again his musical career, but in

Beijing.

In 2005, during his second trip to China, he met Laurence Ku (顾忠山), an

American-Chinese guitarist who has similar background as Gao. Through Ku, he contacted with Xia Jia, and played the first gig with Wen Zhiyong. Since then, he

232 became familiar with Wen Zhiyong and Xia Jia, and these three were planning to form a band when Gao came back to Beijing next year. Now the band needed a drummer and a bass. Gao had no idea where to find a bass player in Beijing yet, but he knew Xiao Dou already in gigs in a bar called Yugong Yishan (愚公移山). He appreciated Xiao Dou’s playing and asked him if he would like to join his band with Xia Jia and Wen Zhiyong.

Xiao Dou happily agreed at once. At that time, Wen Zhiyong was teaching in BCMA, and told Nathaniel Gao that “there is one kid playing double bass in the entire music school, only one, nobody else.”271 Then Da Huai joined in the band, and Red Hand founded.

In 2006, when the new formed Red Hand was still not finding a gig, a German class mate in the Chinese class introduced Gao to a famous rock bar, D22, in Wudao

Kou. The owner of the bar was American-Spanish and he was inclusive in terms of musical taste. But the problem was that he could only pay 100 yuan per person. But the band went there anyway. Gao was surprised that even Xia Jia, with his fame in the jazz community, agreed with such a low payment, just for having a place for his musical experiments. And Da Huai, recalled by Gao, “was sitting hours in the underground with his double bass, from Tong Zhou to Wudao Kou, for 100 yuan.” After Da Huai went to the Netherlands in 2008, the band members found it hard to gather at once due

271 Nathaniel Gao, interview by author, BCMA, Beijing, March 15, 2017.

233 to frequent travels. But due to their fixed affiliation with Beijing, they could meet frequently with each other in the jazz scenes of this city, though not all together. Red

Hand became the tie in their musical careers.

Now a prominent saxophonist, Nathaniel Gao is playing in all venues of jazz.

Since Blue Note Beijing opened in 2016, he staged there frequently. Besides, he is teaching in BCMA, and has become an important figure for helping international musicians to get familiar with the community and get a stable income from the school.

By his perpetuate efforts planted in Beijing’s jazz scenes, Gao has achieved a great fame in the local jazz community. With this fame, he not only actively explores new styles and experiments, but also helps to improve the inclusiveness of the community. Thanks to the endeavors of musicians like Nathaniel Gao, the membership of Beijing jazz community is detached from nationality. No matter foreign nor Chinese, jazz musicians formed their own recognition on who is Beijing jazzman.

4.2.7. Zhang Ke

Zhang Ke (张柯) is now the prominent jazz bassist in China, and a denizen on the stage of East Shore. Born in Xi’an, the capital of Shanxi Province (陕西省), he grew up in a classical musicians’ community, called Wenyi Dayuan (文艺大院) in Chinese. Wenyi

Dayuan was the kind of residentials for artists belongs to a performing organization formed during 1950s to 1980s. Zhang Ke’s community was affiliated with the state-

234 owned Dance and Opera Theatre (歌剧舞剧院), and his parents and neighbors were all working for the same theatre. In a very young age, his father held a high expectation on him to be a violin virtuoso. Thus, he started as a child a professional training in classical violin under the tutoring of father’s colleagues. However, as a well-trained violinist until his high school, Zhang Ke was not positive at all in his violinist future. Instead, he grew a great interest in fine arts, something he felt refreshing for his history with a pure musical environment. When his family let him to choose for his future, whether music or fine arts, he had chosen the later. Thus, he attended the conservatoire entrance examination (or art gao kao, 艺术高考) and was accepted by one of the top fine art institute in China, Xi’an Academy of Fine Arts (西安美术学院).

During the college years, Zhang Ke grew an increasing interest in music, but in rock instead of classical violin. Meanwhile in his community, a trend of jazz music developed since 1990s among the young generation of musicians. In this trend, Zhang

Ke’s childhood friends started to learn jazz styles based on their classical training, and formed bands with each other. Zhang Ke was originally fond of rock guitar. But his childhood friend, whose jazz band was in need of a bass player, persuaded him to learn and play bass for them. For which he joked that, “I was almost forced to play jazz at the beginning, because they said that if I don’t play bass they couldn’t form a band.”272

272 Zhang Ke, interview by author, Beijing, March 23, 2016.

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Figure 18. Zhang Ke at the Blue Note Beijing, January 6, 2017. Photographed by author.

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Around 2000, Zhang Ke reluctantly joined in his friend jazz band as a bass player, and moved with them to Shanghai. “I still preferred rock, and I didn’t like jazz at that time,” said Zhang Ke, “but we were young boys, we needed each other to be members of something.”273 From then on, Zhang Ke started his training in jazz bass in Shanghai, by listening to records and playing gigs for all kinds of stages.

Experienced all kinds of music he had to play for livelihood, in hotel, bars or restaurants, he got tired of pop and even rock. Soon after life started in Shanghai, he introspected into the monotonous things he was playing on various stages. “Did I play something outstanding, or had I ever concentrated all my energy in something I was playing?” Zhang Ke criticized on himself.274 At this moment, a jazz concert introduced by one of his friends inspired him in getting out of the mundane. He described the style of the jazz performance he saw as passion and energy sincerely flowing out under a manner with natural elegancy.275 “That kind of elegancy,” he commented, “was not from pretending or force. It was from training and talent.”276 Since that time, Zhang Ke found himself into jazz.

Neither had a tutor or an opportunity to study abroad, he put forward the study in jazz from foreign players who toured or lived in Shanghai, like now he is learning

273 Ibid. 274 Ibid. 275 Ibid. 276 Ibid.

237 from other musicians co-staged with him in Beijing. By 2008, he achieved a surprising improvement and got to know many figures from Beijing’s jazz community who toured

Shanghai frequently, including Liu Yuan. Revived with the Old Shanghai jazz in Peace

Hotel Jazz Band talked at the beginning of this chapter, Shanghai’s jazz scene experienced a turning point in 2000s. In 2002, 23 years old Ren Yuqing (任宇清) came back to China from Singapore, where he just graduated from Lasalle College of the

Arts.277 Instead of Beijing, where he was born, he turned to Shanghai for more opportunities. In the early 2000s, there were only two jazz bars in Shanghai, House of

Blues & Jazz and Cotton Club. He found a job in House of Blues & Jazz (founded

1995),278 which was owned by Lin Dongpu (林栋甫), a TV program host and an Old

Shanghai style actor.

Ambitious to establish his own jazz brand, Ren Yuqing built JZ Club in 2004.

And in 2005, he inaugurated the first jazz festival in Shanghai, JZ Festival. In 2006, JZ

School ensued. Ren Yuqing’s activity brought a gathering sit for musicians from Beijing, due to his tie with the jazz-rock community of Beijing. Born in 1975 Beijing, Ren Yuqing started his musical training in bass from 15. In 1993, he founded his first band, a rock band called Shitou (石头, rock, or stone). By 1997, he obtained the attention of the major

277 Du Shasha, “Jazz New Development Inquiry in Shanghai Contemporary Urban Music Culture: JZ Brand for Example 2004—2014,” (master’s thesis, Shanghai Conservatoire of Music, 2015), 14. 278 House of Blues & Jazz Portal, accessed March 30, 2018, www.bluesandjazzshanghai.com/.

238 rock stars in Beijing like He Yong (何勇), Dou Wei (窦唯), and participated in the recording of Cui Jian’s new album, Power of the Powerless (无能的力量, 1998), in 1998. In the cooperation with Cui Jian, Ren Yuqing cultivated a musical tacit and friendship with Liu Yuan. Often felt overshadowed by Cui Jian, Ren Yuqing decided to study abroad and come back to play the real jazz.279

Since 2004, the founding of JZ Club attracted musicians from Beijing frequently touring Shanghai, which encouraged the communication between the musicians from both city, and formed a tie between the jazz communities of Beijing and Shanghai. It was around that time, Zhang Ke met Liu Yuan, who later invited Zhang to play bass in his band in Beijing. “Yes, everywhere needs bass,”280 said Zhang Ke with a relaxed smile. In 2008, he came to Beijing with Liu Yuan, and stayed as a permanent bass player on the stage of East Shore.

4.3. Beijing Style

In 2015, Irish drummer Fiach Ó Briain met his collegemate, bass player Daniel

Callaghan, who had just arrived in Dublin from Beijing for a vacation. Influenced by the economic crisis in Europe, Ó Briain was stressfully seeking opportunities abroad at that

279 Gu Liguo, “22 Years Old withought Music, What the Hell are You Living: Interview with Ren Yuqing” Moppo, August 26, 2013. 280 Zhang Ke, interview by author, Beijing, March 23, 2016.

239 moment. Already three or four years living as a jazz musician in Beijing, Callaghan thus suggested him to go and have a look at his working place. In April, Ó Briain arrived in

Beijing, and started his exploration in the scenes and community of jazz there. The first challenge he met was something non-musical. Born in Zimbabwe, the Dublin originated

Fiach Ó Briain has kept traveling frequently hitherto. Rarely contacted with East Asia,

China, with a totally unrecognizable written system for the West, is the first place he had encountered where English is often vain in communication.

When I arrived at the bar, there was still thirty minutes, or twenty minutes to the jam session. Zhang Ke speaks English, but the other two don’t speak English at all. (When Zhang Ke got on stage) We just smiled to each other, and nodded to each other. Then, somebody said (gesturing for drinking, and thumb up for agree.) I mean, yeah. We can drink.281

This awkward moment happened in the first time Ó Briain attended a jam session in Jiang Hu, where he was introduced by Daniel Callaghan to three local musicians. Although already an international community, there is a unique feature in

Beijing’s jazz scene. The fluent Chinese uniformly spoked by foreign musicians, especially the one arrived more than 10 years, like Matt Roberts, David Moser and

Nathaniel Gao, made learning Chinese a necessity to living even with the jazz community in Beijing. This is totally different in case of Shanghai, where all the Chinese musicians are capable of communicating in English, and the langue environment of the whole city is much easier for English speakers. Many foreign musicians living in

281 Fiach Ó Briain, interview by author, Beijing, March 26, 2016.

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Shanghai affluently without having to learn Chinese. While in Beijing, the new arrivals have to struggle with the gestures and Chinese courses for a considerable time. But when the jam session started, communication turned much easier. Ó Briain recalled that the musicians co-staged with him negotiated with him by music sheets, American jazz terms with Chinese accent or directly by playing. Communication was suddenly unfolding on the stage with jazz music, their shared end in Beijing.

Playing music helps me to get to know all those people without having to speak actually any language. I got very clear idea about those people’s personality just from playing music with them. And they had the same to me.282

When asked about if there is anything special in jazz music played in Beijing,

Fiach Ó Briain said, “one of the things that I noticed when I came here is that the scene, especially in the jam session scene, I think is quite traditional compare to Ireland.”283 Ó

Briain went further to explain what he mean by “traditional.” The repertoire played were mostly from 1950s to 1960s bebop style. And the form of the performance is often started with a theme in song form. Then solos ensued in an order of saxophone firstly, then the piano, bass and drum. He did not realize this is a kind of norm when he just arrived, and tried to add “something new” in the trading part by trading with the bass player a second round. But others on the stage felt strange. This did not create any bad effect: he did something new for the others; and they accepted it.

282 Fiach Ó Briain, interview by author, Beijing, March 26, 2016. 283 Ibid.

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Surprising for him, the local musicians he met tend to adhere more to the traditions from 1950s and 1960s United States. He gave two possible reasons he had been thinking about. Since jazz has been popularized in Europe for a much longer time, there are already many music schools provide jazz course. Whereas, in China, there aren’t many music schools for jazz, and people are still learning jazz in a traditional way, listening to the old recordings and spend time on transcriptions and imitation. But

Ó Briain does not see it as a negative thing, regarding the good quality musicians whom he had met in jam sessions, or the ones he had cooperated. He thinks by this traditional way, although takes longer time, entails great musicians, if keeping it perpetuate.

Another reason he gave in a half joking way is that, “Maybe people here just prefer the more traditional sense, you know here, in China”284

The two reasons provided by Ó Briain are all confirmed in Liu Yuan’s musical ideology, under which, he considered traditional jazz as the first step for developing this musical genre in China. He raised this idea that “traditional jazz is the real jazz”285 as early as 1996 in an interview after the Beijing Jazz Festival. “I try my best to adhere on traditional jazz,” he said, “so that the audiences would obtain a basic knowledge about what is jazz.”286 Based on this opinion, Liu Yuan criticized a trend of fusion and

284 Fiach Ó Briain, interview by author, Beijing, March 26, 2016. 285 Ling Yun and Shi Er, “The Development of Jazz Should Start with the Tradition: Liu Yuan on Jazz,” News of Musical Lives, December 6, 1996. 286 Ibid.

242 the creation of “Chinese jazz” as too early for the level of this African-American musical knowledge being grasped by Chinese people.287 Subtly expecting the birth of the real

Chinese style in the future, Liu Yuan stressed the importance in the study of traditions as the first stage of jazz’s development in China. He argued that firstly, “Jazz tradition is different from ordinary tradition.”288 Seen from this perspective, the integration of

Chinese music and jazz requires the thorough knowledge and trainings in both traditions.

Secondly, when asked about the meaning conveyed in his two compositions presented in 1996 Beijing Jazz Festival, “Who is in the Blue Tone (谁在蓝调中)” and

“Back and Forth (退与进),” he scorned, “Chinese people always want to find semantics from music. I think that is unnecessary.”289 Had Chinese people been always seek semantics in music? Or had this critique been raised already in Chinese history? As early as Jin Dynasty (265—420 AD), the prestigious literati and guqin musician, Ji Kang

(嵇康, ca. 223—ca.263 AD) refuted the semantic quest oriented by Confucianism prevailed in the official musical ideology at that time. In his breaking discourse, Music does not Speak Sorrow nor Happiness (声无哀乐论), in denying the function of music in expressing specific emotions in the surface, Ji Kang was, in a form of debate, negating

287 Ibid. 288 Ibid. 289 Ibid.

243 the impose of semantics in music by the authorities for establishing morality as the ultimate interpretation for music.

After his execution in around 263 AD, Ji Kang’s musical polemic was submerged by wars and the succeeding dynasties, and was forgotten by the official transmission of literature. But his view was inherited in the “sub-tradition” among musicians, in a form of seeking the “pure beauty” of music. This sub-tradition floated to the surface in the prosperity of un-official literature in the late Ming Dynasty (1368—1644 AD), and was manifested in the increasing publications on training and repertoires in various musical genres. Like the blossom of the “queen of the night,” this prosperity of un-official literature and the sub-traditions it illuminated were soon under the flood of the wars happened around 1644, when Ming Dynasty was conquered by a stronger and more disciplined military power, the Manchu Qing Dynasty (1644—1912 AD). Discussed in

Part I, the oppressive ruling of the early Qing government pushed the musical sub- tradition into immorality, and into the ambiguous margin between the ordinary civil life and the outlaw sub-society. Liu Yuan, as a descendant from a suona family, which was located in the core of the civil needs in musical functions (regarding its main use in ceremonies), inherited the pursue of the non-semantic, or the purity, of musical tradition.

Interestingly, this sub-tradition is perplexed now as Liu Yuan expresses his prospect on the development of jazz in China. On one hand, he believed in an idea of

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Confucianism, which is a manifest tradition in China, that “nothing better than music to change a culture (移风易俗, 莫善与乐).” He interprets this idea in a compound of mysticism from Daoism and his own interpretations towards the ancient texts. He asked me in one interview, “have you heard about which country is the first to work out the 12-tone equal temperament?” “Ming China,” I said, sensed that he knows the answers, but just testing me. “Do you know why China did that, and why China kept trying to do it?” “For they believe that the accuracy of the tuning would entail the rise or fall of a dynasty,” I answered. “Exactly!” He said, “that’s why I’m doing jazz, and developing it. Because music is the trigger for the condition of a society, to be in order

(治), or in chaos (乱).”290

On the other hand, the sub-tradition in seeking the “pure beauty” of music is projected in his further explanation on this musical ideology. Liu Yuan believed that the

“music” in the Confucianism idea of “nothing better than music to change a culture” represents for popular music. This view reversed the moral constrain on entertainment music which was often held by the manifest musical ideology in Chinese history. His assertion has its credential in the ancient history of Chinese music, since the term “feng

(风)” used in this sentence to indicate music was referring to folk songs in the time of

Confucius. Thereon, he made the conclusion that Chinese culture was in a declining

290 Liu Yuan, interview by author, Beijing, April 6, 2016.

245 condition due to the ignorance in the popular music world now. Jazz, due to its beauty and complexity could be the foundation for a new Chinese popular music, which would bring a revival of Chinese culture.291

In explaining what is the real jazz, Liu Yuan provided a two-fold answer. In the first layer, he clarified in 1996 that “jazz is not composing, is how you treat compositions,”292 which he later specified as “using the jazz law to improvise.”293

Requested by me, he explained further what he means by “jazz law.” “There are vocabularies of jazz,” he said, “and when you use jazz language to express yourself, the grammar is the jazz law.”294 The second layer is unfolded when he enters into presenting what are the jazz vocabularies and jazz language. He considered the

“linguistics” of jazz as derived from “standards.” And he uses a term, “standard jazz

(标准爵士)” to stress the core of the real jazz is to play standards in a jazz way. And bebop style, he claimed, is the quintessential jazz style, and the foundation to learn the jazz way.

Due to the tradition of improvisation, there are as many versions of performing on the same standard as the times it has been played. Driven further by the divergent styles, the differences between versions enlarged. This situation made jazz standards

291 Liu Yuan, interview by author, Beijing, April 6, 2016. 292 Ling and Shi, “The Development of Jazz Should Start with the Tradition.” 293 Liu Yuan, interview by author, Beijing, April 6, 2016. 294 Ibid.

246 the “ships of Theseus,” since the elements written in the same standard are all changeable. Bobby Selvaggio, the director of Kent State University Jazz Program, told me in his jazz improvisation class that the 1939 recording of Coleman Hawkins’ “Body and Soul” heralded for the start of bebop, since in this recording, melody was only hinted, not articulated.295 Therefore, the title “Body and Soul” here is an unchanged impression, over which the changes was played, and this is the starting of bebop.

What kind of change could maintain the original impression of standards, of bebop, or of jazz? By the end of 2017, I had struggle in two semesters of Jazz

Improvisation course of Bobby Selvaggio. I wrote every note according to the theory taught in class, got from internet, tutoring books, but the results just not sound like jazz.

Why the leisure looking jazz musicians playing something randomly is always considered as no wrong, but my works after the scrutiny on theory are not correct? I found the answer through doing transcription assignments of the class. Theories are all from the conclusion of the repertoires of transcription. From the accumulation of transcription and imitation, jazz players learn how to interpret standards from the authorized interpreters of this genre. Indeed, this process is like to learn language, and the vocabulary of jazz is obtained from the accumulation of “reading.” And the “jazz law,” or grammar, like the theory, is not the core for maintain the impression of jazz,

295 Bobby Selvaggio, “Jazz Improvisation I,” (lecture, Kent State University, October 25, 2017).

247 instead, based on the accent, or as dialect, people recognize jazz.

Reflection on standards, the American-Chinese vocalist Nancy Zhang (张南漪) started with a question “What do you think about standards?”296 “I guess, it could be played in bebop, or other styles, like modal. And something, related to tradition perhaps, like Great American Song Book,” I made up my answer by delving into the already blurred memory about Chris Cole’s history class in Kent State University.

“Exactly,” she went further after my answer, “Great American Song Book can be considered as a set of standards.”297 She went further to list other standards from the

Real Book. By doing so, she reveals that the standards becoming standards due to the musicians need something to play together in jam session, without the lead sheets.

Furthermore, she regards standards as a cultural thing, since it was formed in the shared repertoires of the musicians in a certain community. In the United States, the repertoires called standards borrowed largely from popular music.

“But you don’t have that kind of culture here, as in the United States.” In mentioning that she observed a common disdain on the Old Shanghai jazz and the popular music in Beijing jazz community, she questioned the understanding of the term standards here. “You have folk music, and you have Old Shanghai jazz. Why not just use them as your own standards?” Enlightened by her questioning, I noticed that no

296 Nancy Zhang, interview by author, Beijing, February 21, 2017. 297 Ibid.

248 matter the insist on standards or bebop, the root is not in the music itself, but in culture.

In other words, it is from the interaction of the jazz community with Beijing’s society.

About this community, Nancy Zhang captured another feature, that a main population is comprised of male instrumentalists, with vocalists, especially female vocalists are the minority.

Another singer Nuo Mi (糯米) told me that once she asked if she could have a gig in East Shore. But then she was told, there is no vocal gig for East Shore. If she would like to sing there, she could come in jam session, but no payment.298 Additionally, singing in East Shore often results in an awkward situation for the singers. The instrumentalists often keep their solos over course after course, and the singers would have to stand on the stage throughout the piece but singing only the theme in the beginning and at the end. This situation is not limited in East Shore, but extended into the active zones of the community. Concerning the fact that vocal is the only part in

Beijing’s jazz scene where the population of women largely exceeded men, the overlook on singers factually lead to a discrimination on women in the center of the jazz community.

Is the discrimination on women exists in Beijing’s jazz scene? In February 21,

2017. Two famous singers from the popular media, Lv Shuchun (吕抒春) and Bin Junjie

298 Nuo Mi, interview by author, Beijing, February 20, 2017.

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(宾俊杰) came into the jam session of Jiang Hu. They were talking loudly, and kept asking the piano player Feng Wei for a chance to get on the stage. This chance was delayed until it was about to be the end of the jam session. When Lv Shuchun got on the stage, a couple of players suddenly left the stage. The rhythm section was thus left without bass and drum players. Waited from a while, another bass player and a drummer came onto the stage reluctantly.

The saxophonist was left on the stage. When the song started, Lv finished only her theme. The saxophone solo lasted until the recapitulation of the theme. During the saxophone solo, many times when it was about to be the last cadence, Lv held up the microphone and prepared to join in for next course, but the saxophone solo was roaring towards the end. Lv was very awkward. In the end, when she finally got the chance to finish a theme, she had already standing on the stage a long time. Her fellow singer Bin

Junjie would reduce the suspect of a gender discrimination. He was put to the end to get on the stage, when the audiences were all left, and the musicians started to collect the instruments. Only the rhythm section stayed on the stage, even a worse situation than Lv. This is not a proof for that there is definitely no gender discrimination in

Beijing jazz community, but to reveal that there are more social impacts to be studied in perceiving the behaviors of the community.

Regarding the background of Lv Shuchun and Bin Junjie, they were rising from the TV program called xuanxiu (选秀, pop star draft), which is a symbol for the popular

250 media in China. In this popular media, jazz is often ignored. Even when mentioned, the names from the jazz community would not be on the list. Singers who are often criticized for their smooth or pop musical style by the community, in turn are the recognized “jazz figures” in the popular media. These pop jazz singers are rewarded not only in fame, but also in great fortune gained through their concerts. In Beijing, the income of jazz musician is far from enough for survival in this city. Forced by livelihood, jazz musicians have to often attend the recordings and the shows of pop stars. But the huge disparity between the income of jazz musicians and pop stars, even for the same show, enraged the former.

Either for the efforts dedicated in musical training, or the time dedicated in working, the income of jazz musicians is seriously unproportioned. Recalled by Xiao

Dou, when they were playing in D22, the bass player, Da Huai, was living in Tong

Zhou. Besides of attending the rehearsal, he had to carry a double bass every week into the underground for 3 hours, and play until 1:00 am for only 100 yuan.299 Of course, they must have other jobs to maintain their musical career. In daytime, Xiao Dou is teaching in BCMA. He concentrates all the classes on Monday and Wednesday when he keeps working from 11:45 am until 7:00 pm. After that, are the gigs. On March 4, 2017, I saw Nathaniel Gao performing in Blue Note Beijing. The concert end at 11:00 pm. After

299 Xiao Dou, interview by author, Beijing, March 30, 2016.

251 that, I moved to East Shore for watching the jam session. Gao came soon after my arrival, and stayed until around 2:00 am. However, this kind of life brought jazz musicians just sufficient income for a livelihood.

Ignored by the popular media and the cultural industry it served, jazz musicians formed a front in resisting popular music. This front brought back jazz musicians since

2010s who were previously in various stylistic camps to the center of the community.

They use open lessons, concert seasons, online posters to share and to promote their knowledge of jazz music, in facing the popular characterizing of this genre by the new

“Chinese smooth jazz.” Under this circumstance, the retro trend in the Old Shanghai jazz recently sprang from the popular world became one of the target for refusal. This situation reminds me of the jazz musicians in the 1960s and 1970s’s United States. When

African-American trying to interpret the term jazz themselves in denying the definition on jazz music by the music business.

Around 2:10 pm on March 16, 2017, New Jersey originated drummer, Anthony

Vanacore went out of the practice room to the building across a narrow aisle, as he did on every Thursday. He walked deep down through trains of stairs to a shabby classroom at the basement of the well-looking main building of BCMA. This shabby classroom was one of his cherished spaces to share the knowledge of jazz’s history with the Chinese students. On that particular day, Vanacore presented his yearly research on jazz standards. From the time of Chick Webb’s competition with Benny Goodman in

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Savoy Ballroom, to the various versions of “I Got the Rhythm,” he’s fluent Chinese speech had never been interrupted by the chats and clicks on the cellphones of his young audiences.

Indeed, there were a few students listening with great concentration. But one might ask, why he came from New Jersey to Manhattan for jazz, then came from New

York City, the “Mecca of Jazz,” to Beijing, to this shabby classroom on the base floor of

BCMA? What he found in Beijing but not in New York City? He found an empty land outside of the saturated, and slowly shrinking market of the U.S. jazz scene, a yet establishing institution remote from the fierce competition among the best jazz musicians in the world, a hope for the recognition as one of the founders in the education of the historical knowledge of jazz music. His ambitions, like other foreign musicians in Beijing’s jazz scene, reveals one fact that jazz needs a bigger world, therefore jazz needs Beijing.

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Chapter Five: The Identity of Jazz Musicians in Beijing

5.1. Identity

Developed from the discussions on oneness, or sameness, the term identity itself has various definitions over times and in different languages. Gerald Izenberg recounted the multiple adaptations of this term in his Identity: The Necessity of a Modern

Idea, from the Greek conundrum of “the ship of Theseus,” to the publish of the

Encyclopedia of Identity in 2010.300 Izenberg ascertained that, identity, having a root long been planted in history, became a notable term since 1960s. And its social definitions were also commenced around that time, with the rise of civil rights movements in the

United States.301 As a political need, civil rights movements brought this term a tendency to refer to collectivity, leaving along the previous insight and questioning on the existence of identity and self in philosophical or psychological disciplines.

Meanwhile, the advent of collective identity, not only promoted the term identity into many catchphrases used by the public, but also extended the discussions around it, especially into who are to be collected, who are others, and by what.

In the turn of 1960s and 1970s, the significance of identity in Euro-American academic world had been stimulated by a trend in redefining ethnic identity.302 In the

300 Gerald Izenberg, Identity: The Necessity of a Modern Idea (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press 2016), 1-2. 301 Ibid, 138. 302 Ibid, 203-204.

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United States, the chronic racial conflict between the “whites” and the “blacks” was intensified in the surge of African American demands for civil rights, and for a fair society. In facing the “angry counter-assertion of white ethnic identities,”303 militancy was deepened in shaping the new black identity. The modern African American identity was born, as “reclaiming honorific ethnicity from defamatory ‘race.’”304

Meahwhile, culture became an excuse for the whites to refuse the ethnicity of African

American. Izenberg noted on Martin Kilson’s study on ethnicity305 that “for whites, blacks were ‘merely’ a biological race whose inferiority was manifested precisely in the absence of an authentic black culture.” Here, culture and ethnicity were terms used exclusively on the divisions within whites according to their European ancestries.306

This conventional view on culture, as the core of the previous definitions of ethnicity, was thus challenged.

Isn’t jazz one of the evidences for the presence of an African American culture?

Art Blakey asserted that in 1971, by stressing this music’s uniqueness from both white

Americans and from any of the traditions in the African continent.

When we heard the Caucasians playing their instruments, we took the instruments and went somewhere else. If you hear them sing ‘The Star-Spangled Banner’ and then you hear a soul sister sing the same song in church, she’s going to sing it different. This is our contribution to the world, though they want to ignore it and are always trying to connect it to someone else…. It couldn’t come

303 Ibid, 211. 304 Ibid. 305 Ibid. 306 Ibid.

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from the Africans.307

In this remark, Art Blakey depicted the distinctive audio effects between

“Caucasians” and “soul sisters” in singing the same song. This distinctiveness was a result of the divergent traditions in interpreting compositions in America, which uncovered a “soul music culture.” This soul music culture is the manifestation of a broader entity which produced it, thus implied the existence of at least one part of the

African American cultures. However, under the African American ethnicity, there were no shared ancestors which perpetuates particular lineages, provides the same dialect, goals and values to all communities under this title. Back to the African Continent before the arrival of European colonists, people were living in different kingdoms and tribes. They had their own cultures and ethnicities. It was the Atlantic Slave Trade made them faced the same counterpoint, the whites. And it was the Americas where a common fate brewed the sense of African Americans. Like Art Blakey stressed:

If you go to Algeria you’ll see the blue people. All those people are so black that they’re blue. If you go to the Congo, you’ll see that the people are all a certain color and they can relate to each other colorwise. But we American blacks can’t because we are the product of a multiracial society. So what difference does it make?308

This remark revealed a fact that, although observable through biological feature,

“black” was not an intrinsic property for the “black people,” but a concept which was

307 Taylor, Notes and Tones, 242. 308 Ibid.

256 not formed until a racial hierarchy was established based on the color of skin. When the segregation was implemented, the American whites had already recognized a black entity in practice, left along their assertion on the tie between European cultures and ethnicity. Therefore, the multiracial societies cultivated an ethnicity as African

Americans, which signifies that race replaced all ethnic criteria as the new membership code in the intensified racial confrontation.

The unique two decades of 1960s and 1970s provided exactly the arena for previously divergent goals and values of African Americans to meet in the civil right movements, and to brew a shared culture. This shared culture, particular as the front formed in the United States in facing racial discrimination, should be differentiated from “African American cultures,” which is plainly referring to the cultures of various communities with African descendants in the Americas. Could not wait for lengthy theoretical discussions in facing the challenge from the white definition on culture, the social movements attributed this emerging culture to the distinct spiritual world of the blacks to the whites. In 1969, according to Kilson’s study on “black power,” a spiritual core, or a unique soul, replaced the role of a common culture in demonstrating an

African American ethnicity.309

The demonstration of a “black soul” proofed firstly the realization on the same

309 Izenberg, Identity, 212.

257 challenges in front of which the African Americans were pushed by the social forces.

Under this circumstance, a militant solidarity emerged as the challenges intensified. In this solidarity, the needs for holding members together ruled over all inner differences.

But still, if expressed uniformly, address this solidarity would have to be in very abstract words. Since then, what is exactly the word to describe ethnicity became less and less important. Groups in the social movements needed an agreement on why or by what they held each other. Here, identity became a popular term, as something newly realized but kind of intrinsic, to avoid lengthy theoretical debate. Since it was applied by more and more groups to claim their character, the modern definitions of identity altered from “oneness” and started its expanding agenda into political field. Izenberg located the time of this agenda in American history. He claimed, “by the 1970s, the word ‘identity’ had become not only an almost exclusively collective but also a largely political concept in the American public sphere.”310

In the brief but rapid development of identity’s adaptations in 1960s and 1970s

United States, another two issues, discussed by Izenberg, are inspiring for the insight into the Beijing jazz community. Firstly, these two issues drove the abstract expression of African American ethnicity into confirmed identity politics which adapted the term identity as the definition for collectivity or otherness. The Gay Pride movements from

310 Ibid, 135.

258

1971 to 1973 in San Francesco is regarded by Izenberg as “to transform stigma into legitimacy.”311 By this transformation, the stigma rooted in the public impression on homosexuality was removed, and a gay identity was formed as the membership, or

“totality,” for the group in which “gays embrace gayness,” “akin to the call for black embrace of blackness.”312

In 1980s’ Beijing, the musical communities just survived from the Cultural

Revolution. During which, a decade of prosecution on musicians was a combined outlet for anti-capitalism sentiment upon the classical music community and the historical discrimination on musicians’ sub-society for the traditional musical community.

Although reversed in the end of 1970s by the rehearing movements (discussed in

Chapter 3), the musical ideology of the Cultural Revolution preserved a profound impact into 1980s. Musician, viewed as parasitic to the industries who yield “substantial products,” was not considered as a good occupation though not expressed by the public explicitly. Still held by a few even until now, this kind of opinion experienced a brief decline in the middle of 1980s, and gradually in the hierarchy built by urbanization and commercialization it turns into one of the symbols for those old-fashioned views from the remote areas since 2000s.

When this “old-fashioned” view still prevailed in in the 1980s, a humanity

311 Ibid, 198. 312 Ibid.

259 revival burgeoned among the intellectuals which soon confronted with the conservative ideology. At this moment, the entitlement as yellow music, often a sanction from the conservative view on the deviants of the musical ideology, became the stigma for qing yinyue, the light music. Seeking an outlet of individual expression, musicians derived from the qing yinyue community found the carrier in hippie and hipster fashions brought by the importation of rock and jazz music. By especially dedicating into the once “yellow music,” jazz musicians transformed the stigma of the taboo in musical morality into a way of resistance to ideological sanction, and a demonstration for the values of their occupation.

However, into 1990s, when the popular culture of Hong Kong dominated the

Mainland, jazz and rock became old-fashioned. Especially for jazz which is obscure for the public, this musical genre was actually filtered by the media for its refusing to be fully commercialized, and the title of jazz is given to Old Shanghai jazz or modern

Chinese smooth jazz sung by popular singers. Deprived from the recognition of the authorized musical institutes due to historical reasons, jazz and rock could not take shelter in official academies and governmental fund like the traditional genres and

Western classical music. Far from the taste of the public, jazz became the minority of the minority in the Chinese cultural industry. This situation resembled to another identity issue in 1970s’ United States. In 1977, the term identity politics had born in a declaration

260 of African American lesbian feminist movements.313 As one very specific case, identity politics reflected a comparatively cleared up adaptation of the word identity to mean resistance. This was shaped by the interaction between African American lesbians’ interaction and the society of 1960s and 1970s’ United States. Izenberg noted that “as women in a patriarchal society; as blacks in a racist society; as lesbians in a heterosexual culture;” African American lesbians suffered from the condition as “minority within a minority.”314 In this extreme condition, the militant identity emerged.

Discussed in last chapter, a public taste has been forged by the media promotions derived from marketing needs of the current musical industry of China. A prolonged ignorance on any value other than the commercial ones resulted the excessively rewarded pop stars and the far under-sufficient recognition to jazz musicians. This unbalanced distribution of social recognition tied jazz musicians from different stylistic camps together in defining “who are they” in an implied way by their behaviors. An

“anti-popular” sentiment thus grow intensively in the Beijing jazz community, and finally formed a shared disdain towards the public taste and an ambience of exclusiveness. It is in this ambience, the insist on bebop style, or the “real jazz” by some characterized the membership of the jazz community, in which the identity as jazz musician was born.

313 Izenberg, Identity, 144. 314 Ibid, 199.

261

However, neither militant nor pride, some jazz musicians tended to be more realistic in recounting their situation, thus their remarks often ended in disparate conclusions. In the 1960s and 1970s’ United States, the expressions of African American musicians refracted upon their ethnicity and music. Contrary to the claim by Art Blakey of “African-Americanese,” Max Roach said that “we are all blessed with African blood, which is what makes us different from everybody else,”315 and music is part of his ethnicity as an African descent. He went further to delineate the American society as a

“social experiment to see if human beings will be intelligent enough to live together.”316

In his benign, and in some sense religious view, there were no African American, Asian

American or European American, but humankind with various origins to endure the test for an experiment.

On the word jazz, Max Roach offered a cold narrative to the facts that the musical genre under this title was born in the dark side of the American history

(discussed in Chapter 2). This style of narrative was also shared by other jazz musicians at that time like Sonny Rollins and Ron Carter (page 69), which reflects an indifferent acceptance to the past. This acceptance is neither passively nor positively, but from the confidence in their talent to ignore the social axis for their status. By axis I mean a centralized coordinator in the net of standards formed by the intricate links of powers

315 Taylor, Notes and Tones, 109. 316 Ibid.

262 and needs in the society, which provides, often by obligations, the norms for individuals to judge and to value. Jazz musicians formed their own values by living in the margins of norms and anti-norms, like their musical knowledge, comes out of everything but belongs to nothing. Their interdependent relationship with the popular world made their way of expressions, even when showing their identity, often implicit in words, observable in behavior.

5.2. Identity or Not

When I asked Nathanial Gao how he identifies a jazz musician from others, he pointed out of the window of the canteen of BCMA, at the students passing by. “Whom can you tell, among these students, are in jazz major?” I looked outside at those students, found some of them in Gothic or Mohawk hairstyle, dressed either “metal or punk,” while some of them looked as “tame” as college boys either in engineering majors, or from marching band. “I guess those ordinary looking guys could be in jazz major,” I replied. “Yes, I think so,” he smiled and continued, “the most ‘ordinary looking’ guy here are probably jazz major.”317 In Smoke, the famous jazz bar in Upper

West Manhattan, bassist Richie Goods told me that he started his training in jazz for he believed that “jazz musicians are the best of the world,” and the most identifiable style

317 Nathaniel Gao, interview by author, BCMA, Tong Zhou, Beijing, March 15, 2017.

263 as jazz for him in his childhood was bebop. “But later I realized, after played many other styles of music,” he said, “I’m just playing music, that’s all.”318 When I asked

Helen Sun, how distinctive she found in jazz community, she said, “Not very different from classical one. People are people.”319

Are these answers attempting to deny an identity as jazz musicians? Or are they even to deny the existence of identity at all. In the remarks of jazz musicians in the

1960s and 1970s’ United States (like Max Roach and Eddie “lockjaw” Davis), an idea was revealed as denying any conventionalized concept for jazz, including the name, which was incepted far earlier in the beginning of this genre to form. Both the esoteric knowledge and a wayward “tenant” inhabits in the popular world, jazz is the genre sui generis for any attempt to index it. When the African Americans could speak for themselves, and for their own music, a trend of “not” was “co-born with” identity. By a trend of “not,” I mean the deny on all definitions of jazz from the society which is commonly observable from jazz musicians’ remarks. In this trend, the totality of identity is refused, and an impression is illustrated that any language in its present stage is incapable for describing jazz. Like in the time of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

(1756—1791), there was no Classical music, but Vienna style, Mannheim style or the operas of Christoph Willibald Gluck (1714—1787). The conclusion on jazz would have

318 Richie Goods, interview by author, New York, November 25, 2016. 319 Helen Sun, interview by author, New York, November 25, 2016.

264 to wait for a new category to appear in the future, when jazz becomes classical.

Derived from an occupation, rather than race, nor gender, the identity of jazz musicians turns to be an ethic issue covered under the tag of a collective. In this identity, playing jazz music becomes the ethic ideal, at the same time the morality of other genres is denied, or even other styles in terms of the bebop adherents in Beijing jazz community. Without even a concrete definition for what is jazz, the “identity” of jazz musician is merely a big umbrella in China covering various self-made definitions of jazz. Interestingly, while the smooth jazz vocals being denied as jazz musicians by the real jazz advocators, some popular singers are declaring their identity as jazz singers to other popular musicians; smooth jazz singers started to demonstrate the superior of jazz than any other genres, especially to popular and classical music.

However, in the center of the present Beijing’s jazz scene, this kind of quarrels are muted by the detached world some musicians have built upon the busting downtown of the capital. Zhang Ke plainly states that “jazz is an imported genre. I was learned classical music since childhood. When I started to contact with jazz, I felt it just a different style, not too far away from other forms of music. But jazz is more complicated for me.”320 Nathaniel Gao and Xia Jia’s musical experiments have never been stopped by the boundaries of styles. Xiao Dou’s negation on commercialized

320 Zhang Ke, interview by author, Beijing, March 23, 2016.

265 music is more for its attitude and limitation on creativity, rather than specific genre.

Moreno Donadel keeps an eclectic interest in all kinds of music, like bossa nova, classical and various Italian genres. Nancy Zhang even stressed the tie between popular music and jazz by explaining the source of standards. Stayed in the frame of jazz as they played or sung, they insisted the music they liked, without letting it to be an identity for them.

In delineating the arguments on identity by the French thinkers Jacques Lacan,

Jacques Derrida and Michel Foucault, Izenberg noted that the deny of identity became a trend in the wake of postmodernism. He attributes the rise of this trend to the 1960s and

1970s France, in which the postmodernists targeted the criticizes on the “master narratives” of both “bourgeois liberalism and orthodox Marxism.”321 On which,

Izenberg underlines, “embedded the subject in an objective scheme of historically predetermined ‘progress,’ a transcendental paradigm inherited from Christian eschatology.”322 In The Post-Modern Condition: A Report on Knowledge, Jean-François

Lyotard uses the meta-narratives as the term to describe the “master narratives” recorded in Izenberg’s, and he defines postmodern “as incredulity toward meta- narratives.”323 These meta-narratives, or master narratives, are described by James

321 Izenberg, Identity, 302. 322 Ibid. 323 Lyotard, the Post-Modern Condition, 435

266

Farganis as a way to imposing an “emancipatory telos” to history.324 The identity of jazz musicians in Beijing is such a telos for imposing an ideal to the end music’s development, like Liu Yuan’s theory of cultural revival through jazz (discussed in

Chapter 4).

Refracted in its diaspora, jazz, one of the African American music has been interpreted into various languages. As a rhetoric introduction by Kyle, in attempting to infuse Chinese pentatonic scale into his ensemble class, “jazz met Brazil, then bossa nova born; jazz met Italy, then the melodic Italian jazz born. What can we do, to add a new chapter of Chinese jazz?”325 However in reality, bebop is the main body for

Beijing’s jazz style. Is this insistence on the real jazz maintained the authenticity as an

African American tradition? African heritage in jazz is still observable on the US scene through its melorhythm, robust percussion (even in piano and bass), and intrinsic approach to the accuracy of the rhythmic interpretation. These features are imprint in the muscles memories of the performer, who, growing up with a tradition of jazz, had cultivated an automatic response in listening and playing. That is why many of them says that there is no “wrong” for jazz.

But in Beijing, this heritage is diluted by the melodic and metric way of the players comprehends the music. In terms of rhythm, I had always heard about jazz

324 Ibid, 424. 325 February 28, 2017. CMA 501. Jazz Ensemble Class of D. J. Kyle Gregory.

267 musicians talking about swing, “everyone swings differently,” they said. Xiao Dou told me to divide one beat in three. “Do not use the metronome for subdivisions, but define them yourself,” he stopped me in thinking to use the “mechanical way” to reach an even and accurate clapping. The next step he told me is to count differently the beat stricken by the metronome as 2 or 3 (usually in classical music the beat stricken by the metronome count as 1, the down beat). After a while attempting, when I could feel the

1, which is absent in the metronome beats, as downbeat, a swinging feeling came to me.

“Theoretically speaking, that is swing,” he said, “but everyone still swings differently.”

I thought it was because of the speed, that when you reach a high speed, the subtle difference between everyone dividing one beat into three turns up more obvious.

The training method of BCMA to swing is to move the beat of metronome into the second eighth of the swing-eighth, that’s mean, count the beat stricken by the metronome as 3 in Xiao Dou’s method. This resulted in a tidy swing in big band training. But in Bobby Selvaggio’s class, he just told the students to try to play off the beat. When I discussed with him about the metric training way in Beijing after class, he asked me in a satire way, “why do they do that?” This is a question I never thought about as an outsider of jazz, and I said, “perhaps, for everyone to swing the same. And do jazz musicians here swing in their own way, no matter slower or faster?” “Yes, sure they do that.” And then I realized, this is the difference of a tradition from an imported genre.

268

Besides, mocking is an observable feature in jazz, which is often expressed by

African American music forms. In stressing the African root of a Brazilian drama,

Bumba-meu-Boi, Kazadi wa Mukuna uses mocking as one of the evidences. “In more precise terms, Bumba-meu-Boi is a retaliatory statement from oppressed members of society to denounce and ridicule their oppressors.”326 However, this feature is also attenuated into a cynic smile in Beijing where jazz tends to be a more serious and rarefied art for the “hermits in metropolis.”327

326 Kazadi wa Mukuna, The Ox and the Slave: A Satirical Music Drama in Brazil, (New York: Diasporic Africa Press 2016), 9. 327 Hermit in secularism is translated from a Chinese proverb, 大隐隐于市, which literarily means the greatest hermit living in downtown. This proverb is originated from the interpretation by poets of classics of Daoism on binary-opposition and Confucianism view on hermit.

269

CONCLUSION

Jazz was first introduced to China in Shanghai, but Beijing was where Chinese people began their acquaintance with jazz. In the 1920s and 1930s’ Shanghai, jazz gained considerable popularity, but within a very limited stratum of the Chinese

Society. The outbreak of World War II deprived China from access to further African

American developments in jazz, but decades for the interpretation of local players out of impression. Derived from the ballroom musical styles of musicians like Whitey Smith and Li Jinhui, the forming of Old Shanghai jazz casted out the concept of jazz for the

Chinese public.

Before this concept had been challenged, in 1945, the coinage of the term yellow music heralded the ideological polarization in China’s art media under the impact of the Cold War. In 1950, just one year after China’s capital moved from Nanjing to

Beijing, jazz, as a symbol of American influence, was condemned as yellow music, facing the breakout of the Korean War. For three decades after 1950, no jazz was played in Mainland China; even its transliteration, jueshi yue, became taboo for the moral codes of the People’s Republic. Thus, jazz’s revival in the 1980s holds great significance to contemporary Chinese society. And Beijing, the capital of the communist regime that had denied jazz since its inauguration, became the cradle of its revival. A contrast of the different fates of jazz before and after the 1980s reveals two issues characterizing its roles—musical morality and identity. These two issues linked past events to the

270 complex formation of Chinese modernization and the inception of postmodernism in post-1980s’ Beijing.

The term, yellow music, an incision into musical morality, led me to investigate jazz’s reception in China. Overlapping with the Cold War, the period when jazz was condemned as yellow music also featured on the politically oriented “moral inquisitions” in both capitalist and communist countries, for example, during the

Second Red Scare in the United States, and the Cultural Revolution in China. However, the Cold War cannot along explain the ties between jazz and yellow music. Part I is introduced by a comparative study between the term yellow music and its American etymology, yellow journalism. This comparative study is summed up in Table 1, delineating the basic line and purpose of the many historical accounts.

271

Both yellow journalism and yellow music were coined by the media, carrying distinct purposes and aftermaths of the coinages, which point to disparate values over time and place—the American Gilded Age and the eve of the Cold War in China, respectively. In the United States, yellow journalism was used for criticizing the sensationalism and scandalization of the newspaper, resulted by the sole pursuit in money. In China, yellow music as a label was used to condemn so-called obscenity expressed in music, thereby fighting against immorality. The emergence of the term yellow journalism in the U.S. heralded the birth of a journalist ethic, which advocated for authenticity of information, that is, without distortion in the pursuit of profit. In

China, the birth of the term yellow music emerged as a fierce contest for absolute power. Under this circumstance, all values, except political ones, were deemed unimportant for people, including values about music.

The Gilded Age, as the United States moved towards its modern configuration, resulted from profound changes at end of 19th century, especially in relationships between distinct components of society, “undermined the values and the aims of the traditional society of America, the needs of urbanization and industrialization bringing a multiethnic base for the further development of the modern United States.”328

In The Division of Labor in Society, Émile Durkheim projected modern society in

328 Buenker eds, Encyclopedia of the Gilded Age and the Progressive Era, 19-20.

272 the frame of organic solidarity, described as intricate divisions and its derived multiple values and ethics. The society is consociated by mutual dependence on diverse social or occupational categories. Thus, looking at America’s modernity through Durkheim’s frame, the birth of the term yellow journalism, is just one segment of the multiple occupational ethics.

Durkheim frames traditional society as “mechanical solidarity,” produced by a social structure with few labor divisions, with likeness tying the society together. Thus, a repressive law punishes so-called deviants against this sameness, and becomes a core ideology. In China, the birth of the term yellow music witnesses the birth of an ideology that also undergirds similarity, and, according to Durkheim’s theory, returns China to a traditional society through modernization. Thus, the exploration of the ancient moral tale behind the term yellow music, mimi zhiyin (靡靡之音, indulgent music), reveals

273 how moral aim imposed on music becomes a metanarrative.

As early as the Zhou Dynasty (1046-256 BC), the concept of immoral music was used as a negation the previous power, the Shang Dynasty (1600-1046 BC). Two main political aims for this: 1) underlines the “music of the others” in shaping the identity as the Zhou people; and 2) helping to form the notion of music morality in establishing a hierarchy based on primogeniture, just after the unification of the feudal kingdom of

Zhou. As a pronoun for immoral music, the term mimi zhiyin was coined during the decline of Zhou’s power, when marquis contested with each other for defining new orders of ancient China (as I discuss in 1.2, “Sensationalism, Moral Persuasion and

Mimi Zhiyin”).

Wrapped in the transmission of literature, mimi zhiyin constitutes the theme of a number of tales (or allegories) that expresses the moral code derived from traditions of

Chinese political culture. In its evolution, it adopted various elements and stances, with social and economic hierarchy always at the core. Confucius’ remark best articulates this core, “King’s music played in a marquis’ hall. If this is tolerable, what else is intolerable.”329

On the other hand, musical morality had long signified the power of beauty latently. Often criticizing excessive beauty in music, the accounts of mimi zhiyin left a

329 Confucius, “Chapter 3: Ba Yi, (八佾第三),” Lun Yu (论语), translated by author, from “八佾舞于庭, 是可忍, 熟不可忍.”

274 deceptive affection for taboos. A concealed and enduring pursuit of “forbidden beauty” formed a “sub-tradition” (or latent tradition in previous discussions) in the musical communities of old Chinese society. By sub-tradition, I mean the transmission of codes of behavior and aesthetic ideals parallel to the manifest tradition found in “serious” literature. Characterized by submission, resistance, or compromise, this sub-tradition’s tangled relationship with the official tone of the serious or written records, is skipped over in traditional historical studies of China.

Since 1990s, these aspects of traditional Chinese music society reincarnated in

Beijing’s jazz scene. From then on, jazz’s fate has reversed in China, indicating that morality no longer adheres to the core in listener and critical evaluation of music. Inside the jazz community, music ethics have gradually replaced morality, and moved into the broader society. In the new ethics code, art became the new “morality” for musicians, and “popular” became a negative description in the identity of jazz musicians.

In interviews and observations within this thesis, questions around “what is jazz?” and “who are jazz musicians?” were devised to illuminate current ethical codes of the jazz community. These codes are defined by musicians themselves, not the public, which reflects the forming of the identity as jazz musicians in Beijing since its sprout in 1990s. Started from Liu Yuan’s advocation on the “real jazz” in 1996, jazz has been defined in various styles of music the musicians claimed as their jazz. This diversity in defining jazz brought fissures to the jazz community.

275

The 1990s also marked the commercializing of Beijing’s social life, during which a cultural industry was imported from Hong Kong, and soon dominated the style of entertainment media of the Mainland. In this media style, the music criticism gave way to sensationalism of private lives of pop stars. The whole jazz community in Beijing was thus ignored by the new media, and jazz music occupied a pitiful margin China’s cultural industry. Resentment for disproportional rewards in society regarding the efforts of paid training and obtaining musical knowledge, jazz musicians formed a line to protest of popular music, despite divisions inside the community.

This situation created a unique phenomenon in Beijing: some jazz musicians insisted on adhering to standards of old American popular music rather than forming a new set of standards from Chinese popular music. Refusing to be popular became a trend in the new front formed by genres, like jazz, rock, and blues (as discussed in

Chapter 4), which were ambiguously included in the category of popular music. And in the confrontation between the popular and the “un-popular” camps, principles on how to play their music became increasingly attached to one or the other category. However, such principles were compromised once a musician needed to earn a livelihood, which influenced the view of jazz musicians on identity. Many roles jazz musicians played in

Beijing society, for example, in their secondary jobs—often the main sources of income—or as participants for concerts and recordings of music other than jazz, infiltrated into their concept of music, and of themselves.

276

Behind this front, reactions from members of the Beijing jazz community refracted. Some ignored the social axis; the rest either followed the trend or took a more assertive rejection toward popular culture. Jazz musicians’ identity thus formed within the influence of bebop adherents, for whom demonstrating “real jazz” was a way to define the boundaries between themselves and pop musicians. While this identity taking form, postmodernism was surging inside the community. A group of musicians in the center of Beijing’s jazz scene refused to define themselves and their music, for that they were reluctant to frame their future by any definition. Nathaniel Gao was one of the core members of this group, his personal background provided a unique perspective in debunking the artificial circumscriptions of race, nationality, and music.

Xiao Dou became the epitome of Beijing locals in an artistic dilemma. His life

277 experience has compelled him to remain “objective” and to accept the rules of competition and survival. But his memory of the Red Hand left a lasting nostalgia for the lost utopia, which still leads him to refuse commercial values and to insist on his own artistic ideals. The missionaries of jazz, Roberts and Moser, have lived a double life in Beijing for about three decades. They are scholars or businessmen in exchanging the goods between China and the United States, they are also witnesses and participants to the flowering of jazz in this city. With their accompaniment, various generations of musicians, from Du Yinjiao to Liu Xiaoguang, have learned to express their personal devotion to jazz.

In reflection on the rarefied ambience of jazz scene in China, Moser remarked that, “here people tend to consider jazz as the entertainment for high ranks. For example, you need to have wine in goblet, fine ladies in evening gowns, and so on. But that is not jazz.”330 He mentioned Wen Zhiyong, whose trumpet articulation possesses a very coarse timbre, but whose unrefined voice is what celebrated by the community.

Moser maintained that jazz is individual and intimate, and in a sense, undefinable. This opinion also influenced his view of Liu Xiaoguang, who has a very distinct style, especially in his improvisations. His rich Mongolian background has lent Liu

Xiaoguang an imaginative take on improvisation, making his voicing unconventional to

330 David Moser, interview by author, Beijing, March 24, 2016.

278 many. But for Moser, Liu Xiaoguang’s musical talent is very appreciated.

These players, their individual interpretations, whether words, behaviors, or the music itself, compose a cloud of narratives of jazz. In contrasting the quest of “real jazz,” and the mission to create a “real Chinese jazz,” this cloud of narratives reflects the postmodern mindset of segment of Beijing jazz community. In this segment, identity and ultimate definitions are refused, leaving jazz in Beijing a future with all kinds of possibilities. Nevertheless, the identity of jazz musicians offers a goal to young musicians ambitious to achieve the recognition denied by the normative track system in

China. In terms of this, identity is still needed for sustaining the growth of the community. Thus, an intriguing shape has emerged from the coexistence of identity and postmodernism behind of the “front” of Beijing jazz community, one that defies popular culture.

With tremendous possibilities under its chaotic appearance, current society in

Beijing is apparently transferring to an unknown destination. The jazz community epitomizes the broader world around it, perhaps merely an episode recording an oft- neglected aspect of city’s development. Two years fieldwork and analysis have captured a precious facet of this transition. This study contributes to future studies in

Chinese jazz, or other research that might broadly conclude on the direction of jazz in

China.

279

There remain unresearched issues, prime among them the Beijing jazz community in the internet era, which I briefly discuss in Chapter 1 (on algorisms). I am mindful that the interaction between the jazz community and the new media epoch resembles “yellow journalism,” as if merely reincarnated in digital form. This is important as it complete the cycle of yellow journalism to yellow music to jazz, back to yellow journalism (now called “fake news”), as the real meaning of yellow journalism, comprehended by Chinese people, after jazz turns out to be an esoteric knowledge of limited popularity in a cold corner of China’s nightlife. However, the tremendous information available with the internet poses an overwhelming challenge to scholars at the moment; thus, I keep it as reminders of the importance of this thesis as a starting place, in hopes of the future researches we might accomplish one day.

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