Mulan’s phoenix is actually the Vermillion Bird

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While the biggest event in Fashion x History has just concluded, judging from the turnout at the Met Gala, one can conclude that dressing to the theme isn’t quite a forte of A-listers. In the name of greater good, this series will demonstrate how one can be fashionably historically-inspired, while still adhering to certain themes.

AUSPICIOUS BIRDS AND US

Birds have had a long history of being seen as auspicious creatures and totems in Chinese culture. The Sun, for example, was represented by a three-legged bird. And of course, we are all very familiar with the phoenix, which at some point became synonymous with the bird in question I’m discussing today.

It has been known by many names in the Eastern part of the world, Zhu Que by the Chinese, Suzaku by the Japanese, Jujak by the Korean and Chu Tước by the Vietnamese. It symbolised the southern constellations of the night sky, and the element Fire.

Because of its association with fire, the vermillion bird is often thought to be the phoenixes by the West. And yes, plural because the Chinese Phoenixes fenghuang had gender (Feng was the male, and Huang was the female, and they combined into a singular identity somewhere down the road later on), while the Vermillion Bird did not.

The phoenix was believed to have the colours of the rainbow while the Vermillion Bird took its colour from the fire. Was that a phoenix or a vermillion bird that we spotted in Mulan? hmmm…..

Mulan (2020) live action movie featured a ‘phoenix’ which actually looks more like the Vermillion Bird of the South. Disney probably got confused between the Chinese and the Western phoenix.

Although some sources said that the ancient Chinese thought the stars in the southern night sky resembled the vermillion bird, thus the assignment of this symbol, it is unlikely so as the Vermillion Bird of the South as well as the Black Warrior of the North did not come into existence in the constellation assignment until much later (about 2,000 years ago) while the ancient Chinese were already very familiar with the constellations for far longer and had assigned the Dragon and Tiger to them first.

THE STYLING

Since Tang and Qing dynasty has the most fun and daring make-up trends ands styles, our styles were mainly based on these two periods, jazzed it up for modern taste.

The vermillion bird wears vintage Thierry Mugler jacket, with big exaggerated shoulders but sleek silhouette to emphasize it being an animal of the skies. A single red feather nose piece is the only thing to hint at it being a bird.

This styling was designed in collaboration with Aaron Han (@aharw) assisted by gabby @ga.bae.be
Makeup assisted by Danny @chenlingx0 and Silas @operatang
Photo by Aaron and I

The styling was done in a manner to represent the animals but also not in a literal sense. The traits that are used are symbolic, just like the animal themselves are symbolic.

The Vermillion Bird obscures half of its face with a Bian Mian fan which is a half-oval type of fan with a history of over 2,000 years. Originally made of bamboo, it evolved to other materials overtime and the one in the shoot was made with an emerald green silk gauze with weaved patterns. Very understated, and quintessentially Chinese. Its subtletly is juxtaposed with the red feather nose piece of The House of Malakai styled by Aaron (@aharw) to suggest its avian nature. Of course, the collar design and the Tang style (circa 8th century) wing-like eyebrows are also suggestive of that.

Section of the reference brow from Tang. This is a painting on silk screen uncovered from the Astana tombs.

Underneath the nose piece, were rouge blushers across the cheeks which some might recall seeing on famous 90s Chinese singer Faye Wong, or more recently, singer Rainie Yang. Except that it’s a lot more intense, as it would’ve been how the Tang people of the 10th century were copying the Tibetans during that time in this style of make-up.

Who wore it better? Left Faye Wong, Middle a Tibetan lady, Right Rainie Yang.

Obviously celebrities typically don’t do much research when they try on different make-up styles, pretty sure the socialites of Tang didn’t either, it was probably just cool or fun for them to experiment with a different styles because this style of blusher was deemed barbaric by the early Tang rulers, and had requested for the Tibetans to stop this practice. Who’d knew that a few hundred years later, it would become vogue at the end of Tang!

And just in case you thought the hair looks non-Chinese (like the typical long hair at the back in Chinese period dramas), I’d like to point you towards the Dunhuang murals from the Tang dynasty (same period), and look at the blushers and the hairstyle and accessories, it’s really quite Over The Top:

Section of Dunhuang Mural in Mogao Cave no. 61 with a noble lady of late Tang accessoried with many large and elaborate hair pins, haircombs, and the Tibetan style brick-red rouge on her cheeks.

The lip was also historically based on the last dynasty of China—Qing dynasty. Similar to the Tang rulers, the Qing were not of the Han ethnic group although they have adopted a great deal of the Han practices after ruling over this Han-majority land for centuries. The Qing lip would typically be just a red dot on the bottom lip, but there were instances where the top lip was also painted fully.

Picture of Imperial Consort Pearl (Zhen Fei), who was rumoured to have been drowned in a well in the Forbidden City by the Empress Dowager Cixi. She has the Qing style lip with a dot an her bottom lipi in this picture.

The Modern Vermillion Bird wears vintage Thierry Mugler jacket, with big exaggerated shoulders but sleek silhouette to emphasize it being an animal of the skies.

The fringe skirt by Raf Simon for Calvin Klein is a reference to its long tail feathers.

Unlike the Phoenix, the Red Bird is just red, while phoenixes were said to be of rainbow colours.

The vermillion bird wears vintage Thierry Mugler jacket, with big exaggerated shoulders but sleek silhouette to emphasize it being an animal of the skies. A single red feather nose piece is the only thing to hint at it being a bird with its front skirt is a reference to its long tail feathers.

The broad shoulder look was never really a Chinese thing, as sloping shoulder would look better in the traditional Chinese garment that has no shoulder seams. But that changed in the 40s with women adding shoulder-pads to their Cheongsams to accentuate the shoulder. This look is exemplified by the Japanese Singer in China Yoshiko Yamaguchi, most famously known by her Chinese stage name Li Xiang Lan 李香兰:

Left: Famous American-Chinese writer Eileen Chang
Right: Yshiko Yamaguchi/Li Xiang Lan in broad shoulder Cheongsam

QUINTESSENTIALLY CHINESE CRAFT, ACCESSORIES AND AESTHETICS

The Western fashion is very big on silhouettes of the dress, while the Chinese has always been about the hair, the craftsmanship, and the understated luxury where one needs to be close enough and in the ‘right circle of knowledge’ to appreciate the weave, the texture, the material, the motif etc. There’s a lot of secrecy behind many of the crafts, and that made them exclusive, therefore a sign of prestige for those who recognise them. Yet, in Chinese culture (quite unlike the Japanese), the craftsmen are anonymous, and undervalued in the grander scheme of things because the Chinese aesthetics has always been literati-led and the craftsmen were more of the ‘technicians’ to the literati’s ‘artistic vision’. Not unlike the many craftsmen working anonymously behind designer brands that bore the mark of the big name designers who most likely did not make those items themselves.

Another style with hair full of Chineseness. Velvet silk flower of bird motif, Chinese-Hakka style wound silk flowers, and purple jade flower.
Bodysuit by Richard Quinn, Nose piece by Ricardo Tisci for Givenchy, styled by Aaron han (@aharw)
Hair and accessories by me, make-up by Silas and I.

And just to transition into the more purely Chinese look, we did another look with more Chinese accessories, and also a Tang style hair and make-up with Qing lips. You probably think that it is a copycat of Frida Kahlo, honestly we didn’t realise it until it’s been done, and I immediately recalled a stranger getting in touch to borrow from me my silk flowers for her dressed-up costume party (she stopped responding the moment I told her the price of the flowers. I know, the value of these things aren’t very apparent to those who are not familiar with them).

I use a lot of lacquer and silk flowers because they are so, so, archetypically Chinese but most people just think of Chinese = gold. When in actuality, Chinese didn’t really use much gold in the ancient past. Or Green Jade (Jadeite) for that matter.

I love the emerald green silk scarve that has the auspicious clouds motif done in silver and gold couching technique.

Notice the green bangle? That is a vintage carved lacquer bangle (very rare to come by as typically it would be in red/cinnabar). Carved lacquer came about sometime during the Tang dynasty as well (circa 8th century or so) and became quite a thing later on so even though lacquer was used in many Asian cultures, carve lacquer can be said to be quintessentially Chinese. It is an extremely tedious process, as you would require hundreds of layers of paint, painted and dried, and painted and dried, before you can reach just a few centimetres of thickness for carving.

The Met (HAH!) had an exhibition on lacquer/cinnabar in 2009, you can read the synopsis HERE.

For the Traditional Chinese Vermillion Bird, I’ve decided to go with a wedding look because we often think of phoenixes for Chinese weddings, yet the colour that brides often wear for that occasion would be Red which is actually the colour of the Vermilion Bird. And since the Vermillion bird is often confused with the Phoenix, and more often than not used interchangeably with it, might as well throw the two into the same mix. If you can’t beat them, join them!

Styled, shot, accessories by me.

And you don’t say, Silas certainly looks a bit like Gemma Chan here don’t you think?

For this time round, she’s wearing cinnabar carved lacquer bangles. One is red-on-red, one is red-on-black. Both are vintage pieces.

Now, I shall introduce you to the real Chinese filigree and cloisonné craft for hair accessories. Not the fashion jewelry type worn on the red carpet at the Met by Chef Melissa King for her nail protector. Apparently it was supposed to be inspired by Empress Dowager Cixi (who is, by the way, NOT the last empress of China, contrary to what the Chef wrote on her insta).

The thing about traditional craftsmanship that came from a lineage of thousands of years, is that they get finer and finer, and they are often consumed by the imperial family so the demand for finesse is extremely high. Also, they are all about understated luxury. If it’s that big a bling, it’s probably too crass for them.

Filigree nailguard with ruby, pearl and kingfisher feather inlay. Collection of the Palace Museum in Beijing.

Close-up details of the nailguard

The Palace Museum collection has quite a number of nail guards made from the Imperial Chinese filigree craft, completed with gems, pearls and kingfisher feathers on many occasions. You can zoom in to see the fine details of these nailguards, and they are extremely intricate —as fine as the kingfisher feathers.

In order to give you a bit more context on the scale of these intricacies, I shall zoom in a little bit on the filigree and cloisonné of the phoenix hairpiece in my photo which has similar craftsmanship as the palace museum nail guard above.

It is made with tiny grains of freshwater pearls and ruby (I think, I can’t remember the stones cos I have too many of these accessories.. lol). Her earrings are also filigree and cloisonné phoenix. SUPER AUSPICIOUS I KNOW!

I did an apprenticeship a couple of years back on filigree, cloisonné and kingfisher feather craft in Beijing, and it was through this process that I came to fully appreciate just how intricate this craft is. It’s not the type that you can see on photos or videos, that’s why celebrities wouldn’t really wear them because they don’t show up on screen that well cos they’re too tiny.

Extremely close up view of the phoenix filigree and cloisonné hairpin.

If you zoom in close enough, you can see that the edges of the wings is made up of tiny dots of gold. It’s actually very very fine silver threads gilded in gold, twisted into like a braid-like structure and welded onto the base. When I did my apprenticeship, the first thing to do was to learn how to pull the thick silver threads into fine strands, finger than human hair. And how to twist them in shape without breaking them. Sorry about the resolution, it’s just too fine for my camera. I will do better next time.

Our vermillion bird bride with a hair full of intangible cultural heritage craft—silk flowers based on Palace Museum collection, and a fan of another type of intangible cultural heritage craft—Kesi, also based on Palace Museum collection.

Since this set is all about intangible cultural heritage and fine Chinese crafts, I threw in the Kesi (literally translated to carved silk) fan. This is a replica of the Qing dynasty fan in the collection of the Palace Museum in Beijing.

The side profile you can see butterfly hair pieces made of dyed silk using the wound silk flowers craft, and also dyed goose feather accessories to replace the kingfisher craft. This hairpiece is based on the Qing dynasty item in the collection of the National Palace Museum in Taipei.

The topic on Kingfisher feather is contentious, and there are many modern attempts to replicate the effect of kingfisher feather without the cruelty of it. Even the Qing dynasty rulers implemented a ban on using kingfisher feathers for accessories (with limited success obviously).

The cloisonné was one of the historical ways during the Qing period which middle class women could get a pseudo kingfisher feather colour accessory while the aristocrats continued with theirs.

These days, wound silk accessories, dyed goose feather, or peacock feathers are all reasonable substitutes. If you’re wondering (as I did), goose and peacock shed feathers quite readily and their feathers are abundant so it’s not like the case of the kingfisher where you need to kill many to get a tiny bit (disclaimer: goose and peacocks are not harmed since you just gather their shed feathers).

I’m actually making a series of accessories with these type of feathers and vintage lacquer pieces, and will be sharing them later half of the year! So stay tuned!

Meanwhile, if you’re planning to have a Chinese wedding shoot, please don’t go red + gold. It’s so cliché and nouveau riche. At least try to add some finesse like turquoise, blue, green, cyan, pearl, aquamarine, lapis lazuli, lacquer… They are going to add a lot more texture and colours to your otherwise crass look. We do, after all, have at least 5000 years of material culture and history to tap on, don’t behave like we only have 50.

Oh no, I was totally not referring to the billionaire daughter’s wedding (which one? so many huh.. :P).

POP CULTURE REFERENCE

The four guardians were first brought to my attention when I was a young latchkey child watching Japanese anime on my couch after school with my sister. Fushigi Yuugi was the name of the anime, and it started with the chapter of the Vermillion Bird of the South—Suzaku (in Japanese). It had all the characters with special abilities, each representing one of the 7 constellations of the southern nightsky under the charge of the Vermilion Bird.

So it is fitting that we start off this series with the Vermillion Bird.

DRAG IN CHINESE CONTEXT & AFTERTHOUGHTS

In the anime, the king of the southern kingdom Hotohori was a man who was as beautiful as a woman, probably very ahead of its time in the 90s.

And in this series, I have worked with Silas (@operatang) to portray this beautiful feminine side of a man. Drag is not new to Chinese traditional culture, except that it was not politicised like the West. The archetypical Chinese Opera look was a result of men trying to hide their masculine facial features in order to look more feminine. And beautiful men were a thing and even recorded in historical texts for thousands of years.

Hotohori in Fushigi Yuugi

When I approached Silas for this project, I also intended to try to re-interpret drag as we know it today in a traditional Chinese manner—from the perspective of someone who wants to look as much like a woman in representation according to a male perspective. This is historically related to the oppression of women in public for about 500 years where images and representation of women were manifested through male bodies in public performances, through their ideas of what a woman is like, how we walk, how we talk, or by male painters.

So as a result, as it is today, men could be more ‘feminine’ than we are (small sample size, but the 2 women involved this shoot can attest to that!). Maybe femininity has often been depicted through the male gaze, so what we see is often a man’s ideal woman image (not how we actually behave, but how they fantasize us to be). So a man could possibly represent very well this ‘ideal femininity’ if they are in touch with their feminine side. Silas showed me some Asian drag queens who are absolutely gorgeous and live up to the ideal female archetype upheld by society (we’re all fellow subjects of the male gaze in this instance!).

I also wondered about the concept of ‘womanface‘ in western drag practices, where features of what it meant to be a woman were used as content for jokes, as part of the overall ‘ridiculous’ look. I’m not sure if I prefer that, or the over-romanticisation of female body during our oppression (as in the Chinese context). Two extremes of the male take on femininity.

Food for thought I guess!

AND because you lasted till the end of this article, you are rewarded with a Vermillion Bird Instagram/facebook selfie make-up filter! Click on the hyperlinked text to claim them:

INSTAGRAM
Vermillion Bird (without frame)
Vermillion Bird (with 5 choices of Chinese motif frames)

FACEBOOK

Vermillion Bird (without frame)
Vermillion Bird (with 5 choices of Chinese motif frames)

From Hanfu to Cheongsam: Fashion, Gender and Body Politics

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Because of Fashion’s close associations with consumption, it has often been dismissed as frivolous in modern context. However, fashion, in its fundamental form, has all along been a highly politicised matter. A woman’s body is never her own, and how she dresses, the shape of her body parts, and her fashion choices were more than just superficial indulgences. Fashion has often been, especially in the context of ancient Chinese societies, a highly controversial political and moral signifier.

But you would be mistaken to think that Chinese women were way more repressed than their western counterparts. For one, if you’ve heard of the ‘bra-burning feminist‘ term (which didn’t really happen btw), you might be surprised to know that while this call for liberation from the constraints of bras happened in the late 60s America, Chinese women have been calling for liberation of their boobs in the name of female empowerment way back in the early 1910s! That’s 50 years before!

The next time you see an old photo of Chinese women, or an antique Chinese dress/Cheongsam, notice the chest area. It should be rather flat.

Most people are familiar with the done-to-death use of the bound feet as a mark of female oppression in ancient Chinese societies. But it was believed to be an influence from the West. In their initial stages, it wasn’t even all that small. Rather, it was more of a narrow feet aesthetic. Subsequently, as with everything, it lots its original sense and became festishcised into the form that we recognise today.

Early 1910s was the onset of a huge wave of Western influence in Chinese society. With the fall of the Qing empire, and return of many western-educated Chinese, the concept of “Westernisation” was exceptionally attractive to the Chinese literati. The flapper style in the 20s also caught on its run in China.

While we all know about foot-binding, very few know of the equally long-standing chest-binding practice which coincidentally fitted the flapper fashion in the early 20th century in the West. The irony is that while the women of the West embraced flapper fashion with flattened chest as a symbol of liberation from their corsets, at the same time, the women of China had flat chests as a result of the same constraints that the corsets imposed on their Western counterparts. So even though the more progressive Chinese literatis (men and women) of that time called for a liberation of their ‘natural breasts’ but it was not until 1927 that it was officially launched by the government. So Chinese women still maintained a very narrow and flat side body profile before that.

A more traditional Chinese woman in the early 20s would have her hair long and neatly combed up, and in two-piece dress as that was the traditional way of dressing for thousands of years. The one-piece robe was not a Han Chinese practice after the Han dynasty. Which is ironic but this little detail became relevant in the debate on the origin of Cheongsam.

And the East and the West met in the middle. The western flapper fashion was a natural fit to the Chinese women’s new feminist consciousness and their (newly-liberated)bound-chest silhouette. Think about it this way, if there is a mom-bod trend in fashion now, I would definitely be the biggest avocate and buy a million of the “mom-bod fashion” dresses. #justsaying. That’s probably what went on in China in those days, with women finding this ‘western’, and ‘modern’ fashionable look easy to transit into with their existing body.

Women who just came out of the Qing dynasty period would still have relatively flat chest, and the practice of chest binding and preference for small chest continued in the consciousness of many as a mark of elegance. I know, even my mom who’s born in the 50s still subscribes to that. This coincides with the aesthetics of the Flapper style in the 20s, which adds to the attractiveness and ease of adoption of the western fashion during that period.

The traditional Chinese dress, which is generically referred to as the Hanfu is done with a flat cutting (Kimono has a similar structure). To put it simply, you can put it on a flat surface, and fold it easily without having a lot of uneven parts such as the seams around the boobs and the butts popping out. It is technically not totally flat but that’s a topic for another day.

For the purpose of the shoot, we had all the models binding their chests (if they are well-endowed) so that the fabric of the dresses would drape nicely down instead of having a bulge at the chest level that’s too vulgar for the cutting of the dress. If you think that having feminine curves is what defines a Cheongsam, then you’re probably referring to the less traditional (relatively so) Cheongsams that were influenced by the Western cutting. Early cheongsams were very comfortable, loose fitting and less sexualised. My personal favourite style to go with my mom bod.

Most people probably have tried on a Yukata or Kimono (probably more likely than a piece of Hanfu). And you would have noticed that the general aesthetic is to have a flat chest waist and butt line, essentially having a special bra that presses your chest down is one of the important accessories. Traditional Hanfu, due to its flatness, has similar aesthetics. The explanation which I found through my own experience, is that you would look bloated if you have big boobs as the excess fabric would drape down your body like you are pregnant since it is not fitted to your body shape.

So an ideal Chinese beauty in the last few hundred years, would have no boobs (and shoulders) essentially.

Because fashion is an important way for women to project their ideological stands, you could tell who were the ‘liberated’ new age women and the traditionalists.

There were two camps of women at the turn of the century:

• The traditionalists who kept their hair long, with bound chests, bound feet and loose-fitting Qing dynasty two-piece top and bottom. They would mostly be home-bound.
• The revolutionists who cut their hair short, campaigned for the liberation of natural boobs as a sign of their intellectuality, and a slightly less baggy dress. It could be a mix of western dresses, early form of cheongsam (one-piece and two-piece). And they loved a good party.

The socialites and women from the big families who were educated overseas started cutting and perming their hair, and they design their dresses by merging traditional Chinese elements with the Western styles, and many of them were inspired by the Art Deco style which worked perfectly in an Asian setting as it was very much influenced by the East with its designs peppered with Chinoiserie amongst its other influences.

I wrote ‘liberated’ because you’d have thought that they would’ve been less more moderate in their approach to women’s dressing identity, as the more ‘woke’ group. However, fashion, as always, is bound to be politicised regardless. Haircutting became a political statement, and more educated women saw it as a physical manifestation of their revolution against the patriarch and it was the true spirit of that time.

Before Cheongsam, there were many different types of dress-robe-vest-top styles resembling the eventual form of Cheongsam. They were influenced by both the Han and Manchurian women fashion of that time and evolved organically into the eventual form we know today. Besides the revolution in dressing, there was also the revolution in hairstyles and the cessation of foot binding and chest binding. It was more of a fashion trend as well as a political move towards a perceived liberation of women of that period.

The ‘liberated women’ saw it as a mission to ensure that all the ‘oppressed’ women who still conformed to tradition have their hair cut and started going about forcing everyone to do so. Little did they realise that hair meant so much to the traditional Chinese, not only as a symbol of filial piety, but also as a symbol of one’s very identity, one that is equally important as their ideal of a liberated female identity. So one of the village woman who had her hair forcefully cut, commited suicide. And in an even more extreme case published in a female magazine, it was said that villagers saw women dressed in military wear going around cutting women’s hair, and a group of over 30 women escaped into the middle of a lake on a tiny boat which eventually capsized (presumably drowning everyone on board).

This was so unnecessary on hindsight because top-down approach never works in meaningful conversion. Eventually, women naturally started cutting their hair as they saw more celebrities, socialites/courtesans and famous people doing so. It became so popular that Beijing even started a female hairdressing school in 1928 with a minimum qualification requirement even.

The importance of soft power.

When you look at the old Chinese posters of the republican era, you’d always find women who permed their already very short hair. And even hair perming, went through a politicised process of being first banned by the government to eventually embraced by everyone. What’s interesting is that the first Chinese woman to have been recorded with a permed hair was in 1926, and she went all the way to the Philippines to do so. The price was about the monthly salary of a professor in China’s top university. So those who could afford it naturally were the celebrities, women from rich families and likes, and that became a highly sought after fashion by the masses before being banned in the mid-30s in the name of prudence and simplicity as a highly valued quality of women (with limited success of course).

So, fast forward 100 years or so, women and how we dress/look are still subject of public interest and debates related to morality and value. And we think that we have come a long way? I guess not really!

Public Service Announcement:

This series of photos were taken in partnership with the Sun Yat Sen Nanyang Memorial Hall to create more visual educational content online. They are currently running a Republica era women’s fashion exhibition (a small scale one–managing expectations here) Modern Women of the Republic: Fashion and Change in China and Singapore from now until 12.12.2021.

I’m also going to do a Facebook live lecture on 25 September 10.30am entitled From Hanfu to Cheongsam: Foreign influences in Traditional Chinese dresses, if you miss it or can’t make it due to time difference, you can always visit the museum’s Facebook page and they’ll post the video there!

Meanwhile, I’m still working on the #Yanzilou immersive online film project, hoping to start sharing more with you in mid September, so stay tuned!

We also appreciate contributions to Hanfugirl to allow us to produce and share more topics which are rarely written in English, and even less represented in images. I have a few projects (besides Yanzilou) that I’m dying to make such as the four guardian mythological creatures of the constellations, Chinese Weddings reinterpreted, Chinese gods and fantastic beasts… We’ll get there some day. Slowly, but surely.

Special thanks to Lin Tong for her knowledge, amazing retro vintage hairstyling, hairpin, and the velvet blue dress. Sharon (Dressed up dreams) for light and the Hanfugirls for modelling!

Courtesans – China’s Earliest Poster Girls

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Chinese Courtesans are probably China’s best kept secret and earliest influencers in fashion and lifestyle.The famous horse-face skirts that were popularly amongst Ming dynasty aristocrat ladies were said to be original worn by the courtesans of the previous period (Song dynasty), and the popularisation of Cheongsam, too, were in part due to the singing girls in early Republican era.

Many of the images and paintings of women in casual poses in the past were often that of the Courtesans.

When we mention Poster Girls of China, we probably think of the posters from the 30s with women dressed in Cheongsam gracing the covers of certain magazines or endorsing certain brands. Any earlier, it would have to be the subject of our discussion today–the courtesan of Qing dynasty.

Postcards of famous courtesans of Qing dynasty, some of these photos made their way into the Forbidden City and collected by the imperial family even.

A quick search of early female portrait paintings, before the onset of photography, you would realise that they are predominantly depictions of noble women. And most of the times, these paintings were kept in private collections with only the formal looking ones available for public display. This is in line with the predominant idea in the last few centuries that women should be as private as possible. Courtesans, on the other hand, obey a totally different set of rules.

The Qing dynasty women featured in this entire article were probably very different from the typical ones you watch on TV. Those wearing a one-piece long robe were the Manchurian women, whereas these are the Han women who retained their two-piece (blouse and skirt) way of dressing despite the Qing government’s call to standardise the Hans’ with that of the Manchurians’.

Unlike what poorly researched and cheaply produced TV shows would have you believe, courtesans of the past were more classy than trashy. They were better educated than the majority of Chinese women and were admired as celebrities since over 1,000 years ago.

The bottom caption indicates that this lady is the Top scorer of the courtesan contest, which isn’t at all like your beauty pageant today–they’re much more focused on virtues and talents instead of sex appeal.

Beauty Pageants amongst courtesans have existed for at least 1,000 years in China, but in 1897, such a contest was formalised and made public through a newspaper in Shanghai. The Courtesan pageant was divided into 3 titles:

• Flower pageant
  Top courtesans who were well-read, educated and knowledgeable. This mirrors the Imperial Exam system which only men could participate in.
  
• Talent pageant
  Taking inspiration from the Tang dynasty Pear Garden arts institution (The first Arts school in Chinese history, set up by the Emperor Xuanzong who personally mentored courtesans/artistes and musicians), this category is to award to a courtesan of the highest artistic attainment.
  
• Leaf pageant
  There’s no flower without its leaves. This category is for the attendants of the top courtesans.

There was no reward for winners of these contests, but their contact details alongside with their nomination write-up would be published for those interested to know more 😉

I guess that’s the earliest form of “paid with exposure”.

A top courtesan reading newspaper and posing for the gram.

Taking inspiration from the western voting system for political representatives, the pageant organiser started probably the earliest form of Voting Contests. The entire contest would start with an open nomination, where every single nomination letter detailing the virtues, beauty, merits, talents, knowledge of the courtesans would be published on the newspaper. Every nomination letter counted as one vote, and it was not limited to any nationality.

In a society where a man could have multiple wives (all of whom would be illiterate or less exposed to the world), Courtesans fulfilled more of a man’s need for romance and companionship on an intellectual level. Therefore being well-educated, skilled in arts, intellectually-engaing, were much more important than their looks.
This is an export oil painting depicitng a “famous courtesan” painted in mid-1800s.

An American was said to have participated in the voting and he even wrote a complaint letter to the newspaper for awarding the title to the ugly ones instead of the good looking ones. Oh, the superficiality!

Little did he know, one of the critical scoring criteria was how many books, and how widely the courtesan read. Oh, the ignorance!

The Courtesan in this photo is entirely decked with silk wounded accessories (very Southern Chinese craft, Hakka in origin) which I commissioned a craftsperson to make based on the paintings. She was also wearing a mock Kingfisher feather earring with dangling pearls. Lace, although not usually seen in Chinese garment of this period, was already used in China in the 1900s.

Now that we’re on the topic of foreign men and their superficial appreciation of the exotic Chinese beauty, we have to mention the oil paintings of Qing courtesans which were sold as souvenir paintings for overseas market.

In the 1800s, Guangzhou was a thriving port for international trade. With that, emerged a popular trade of portrait painting for the general masses, as well as the souvenir paintings. One of the most popular term for painters and shops selling western-style paintings (usually painted by locals in the western style), would have the name “Gua/qua” attached to it, so painters and shops would call themselves [insert name]-Qua. The Qua reference originated from the Portuguese term Quadro (which means frame).

Many of the portraits of women were entitled “Famous Courtesan”, and they looked really quite similar. Most likely a very popular style and design which painters of that period would copy from each other and reproduce at rapid speed for quick sale. It is also because most people would not have access to meet graceful women willing to pose for them regularly, so courtesans would be the easiest to paint.

Of course, we would be naïve to believe that Andy Warhol started the whole Warhol Factory with production lines of artworks in the 1960s. The Chinese, being the production house for many artistic wares (i.e. Chinaware) had been at it for centuries and oil painting was no exception. The well-known Quas of Guangzhou would have many assistants paintings in their workshops and selling them off cheaply to earn quick profit. Most of the times, the export paintings would bear no signatures–nobody cares, unless the painters were well-known in which case they would sign those pieces.

Export painting in progress.

There were many interesting stories of rivalry between fellow painters, foreign painters and local painters, foreign teachers and their more commercially successful student all in the name of profit. And after China lost the first Opium War, it opened up more of its ports, and the exclusivity of Chinese content and imagery in Guangzhou was greatly reduced. The foreign market in the West with their China Mania in the mid 18th century were also increasingly more exposed to Chinese imagery, and were more discerning consumers of such ‘exotic’ souvenir paintings. Eventually, the painters didn’t end up earning much, and some went to Hong Kong, or Shanghai to seek alternative patronage and market.

The type of skirts worn by women of Qing were rather varied and colourful. They were so daring and good with their colour matching, that their rainbow coloured skirts (yes that’s right, I will come to that in the next article) and rainbow stripes were quite something.

While we’re at the topic of foreign influence in Chinese art, I would like to bring your attention to the Qing dynasty Madonna and Child paintings. Jesuits have been in China for centuries since the Ming dynasty, and we could find traces of these localised imagery of Madonna and China since the Ming period. I love how these Madonna and child were obviously Chinese, and shows the importance of remaining relevant to the target audience through decontextualisation. So I thought of doing one of my own (diaper included–Pampers should totally sponsor me :P).

From Hanfu to Cheongsam: The Missing Link

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While Hanfu is the ‘woke/vogue’ Chinese idea of a traditional dress, Cheongsam is the conventional idea of one. Somewhere between these two, lies the missing link of the late Qing dynasty/early Republican Han women fashion like the invisible middle child.

So I’ve introduced the Manchurian Qing dressing with all its hair, accessories and hierarchies, which is what 90% of us are familiar with through TV series and of course the latest craze Yanxi Palace and Legend of Ruyi. Since most TV shows are more obsessed with the royalties and imperial family, naturally not much is shown on the Han Chinese dressing even though they form the majority.

For men, there’s no difference between the Manchurian and Han Chinese because it was the law for all to convert their way of dressing to the Manchurian style. This was supposed to be for the women and children as well, but rumour had it that during the implementation process, the Han Chinese felt very strongly about their traditional way of dressing as part of their cultural identity (and rightfully so), that they had several bloodshed protests! Eventually, there was an unspoken agreement that the men had to adopt (the Manchurians probably felt that once you emasculate the Han Chinese men with their cultural identity, you controlled the women and children naturally anyway), but left the women and children (and a few other exceptions) alone.

Han women and children continued wearing the traditional Han way without the need to adopt the Manchurian style of dressing.

As such, the Han Chinese women had different sartorial choices from the Manchurian women, and they continued binding their feet according to their own/parents’ aesthetic beliefs while Manchurian women were forbidden to do so by law even though they were drawn to such aesthetics at some point.

Women’s body were and are never our own it seems, and how we wish to treat our body has all along been politicised and moralised by society and the ruling class.

Eurocentric scholars and writers at the turn of last century liked to dismiss the Chinese as devoid of fashion, as if Chinese women were so oppressed by their rulers and system that they were accorded with little means nor awareness of beauty and dressing up.

[The] variations in Chinese dress from dynasty to dynasty… [occur] at the speed of a rather hesitant glacier.

Quentin Bell, 1910–1996, English art historian and author

A visual summary of Chinese fashion in the last 2,000 years. It’s definitely not comprehensive because it depends on how much items from those periods were uncovered through archeological digs, and it did not cover all the different regions in China with their individual practices and habits of dressing. Also, it did not cover the different hierarchies, seasons, and occasions.

[The mandarin’s robes] Scarcely changed in the course of centuries, but then Chinese society itself scarcely moved at all.

Fernand Braudel, 1902-1985, French historian

Left one and two are probably what is considered Classical period dress, and Right is the 19th Century one. I find them very different! Could it just be me?! How can they be seen as looking very much alike!??!

[T]he Chinese family of the last [i.e. 19th] century looked very much like a Chinese family of the Classical age.

Quentin Bell, 1910–1996, English art historian and author

In reality, all these quotes were really fashion historian’s equivalent of saying “All Asians look the same”–All Chinese dresses look the same.

But they’re not alone in that view. The Eurocentric Chinese novelist Eileen Chang also lamented in 1943 that “Generation after generation of women wore the same sorts of clothes without feeling in the least perturbed.” Yikes.

While the general form of top blouse and bottom skirt is maintained from the Ming (left) to the Qing (right) dynasty, the weaving, decorative techniques, colours, embroideries, cutting, and collars have completely changed. In fact, the Ming dynasty (14th-17th Century) alone was known at its time for over 100 styles of dresses, and that is taking into consideration the slow pace of production and consumption compared to the later periods.

Because a Chinese literati said so, it must be right? Were there just the same old Hanfu vs the new Cheongsam, these 2 types of existence and form?

I’m not comfortable with that assumption. Would you assume that quantitative change is more important than qualitative change? Or that the type of change that is more visually apparent is more valuable/legit than the subtle, fine and nuanced change?

To me, it is really the difference in culture. Just the other day, I was reading our friend Eustacia’s post on the different types of Kimono and what to wear for various occasions. And it struck me the Western eyes or the Modern eyes were so overstimulated by their own visual differences that they were unable to appreciate or identify the subtlties in the Chinese or Japanese culture. And which also explains the success of designers like Guo Pei in capturing their attention with the loud and archetypically Chinese designs.

While the most common style was the Mamian skirts (horse face skirts), there were tonnes of variations either within that category, or different styles altogether. They go by the names of “Hundred Pleats Skirt”, “Lunar Corona Skirt” (rainbow pleated skirts, like the rainbow around the moon), “Railing Skirt” (then solid colour stripes at each pleat look like railings), “Phoenix tail skirt” etc.

Fashion, to the ancient Chinese, was more of an exercise of artistic creativity within the appropriate boundaries that ensure that they adhere to the changing seasons, occasions, and hierarchies. Constraints are necessary to create meaningful and artful end products. And that, was what the ancient Chinese women were really capable of as they innovated on the types of weaving, motif, embroidery, dyeing techniques, decorative methods of the dresses.

A large part of this could be due to Chinese women’s training in embroidery. As Professor Marsha Weidner, a modern-day Chinese art historian noted, that through embroidery “women trained their hands and eyes, became attentive the smallest details, refined their colour sense, and mastered a large repertoire of motifs and compositional formulas.”

Qing Han fashion was definitely not the invisible middle child you’d imagine. It was bold, dramatic, yet intricate and sophisticated. It’s hard to pull off those complementary colour matchings but they did. Effortlessly.

If you look unclose at any of the apparels, you would realise that instead of just clothes, they were really works of art. Just like kimono. And while the form remained similar, the embroidery work, colour matching, even the direction of the thread made a lot of difference. Images really don’t do them justice–I just went to the Sun Yat-Sen Nanyang Memorial Hall to see actual pieces and you could really see how intricate the needleworks were, and how each of those dots in black in the images below were made up of hundreds of strands of silk, and which went through hundreds if not thousands of manhours to be extracted, spung, dyed, designed, and finally emboidered in accordance to considerations like occasion, hierarchy, season, aspirations and symbolic meanings.

I know I’m very Asian in my consumption of fashion when I buy all the different colours of the same design if I really liked it, because even just a change in colour, meant a big change for me, especially if it’s the design I like. Whereas I wouldn’t look twice at an ‘ugly’ design even if there were 1,000,000 dramatic variations of that design.

Quality over Quantity, anytime.

If you’d just zoom in to one small part of their dresses–the edges of their sleeves, you would notice a small band of embroidered motif, which usually would’ve be just about 5cm by 30cm or so, and the amount of details in embroidery they put into that is just incredible:

I went to the Modern Women of The Republic: Fashion and Change in China and Singapore exhibition today, at the Sun Yat Sen Nanyang Memorial Hall in Singapore (not Taiwan!). And came across this intricately embroidered pink Cheongsam in early 20th century (should be circa 1910s-1920s), and photos really do not do these embroidery justice:

If you ever get to see them in person, do take note of the size of the forbidden knot/stitch, the uniformity of them all, and also the uniformity of the spacing between the knots, and the gradient of colours in the flowers and leaves. All so effortlessly elegant.

My companion asked me why was it called the Forbidden Knot/Stitch. This romanticised name is given by western marketeers/sellers of Chinese goods to link it to the Orient/Forbidden city (sounds exotic right?) and, to make this craft sound really exclusive for the luxury market— claiming that because it would make embroiders blind with the tiny knots and details (sounds like they could command a super high price with this), it was forbidden in China by orders of the imperial court. But it’s nonsense. You can still go blind from doing many of the other embroidery works if done in poor lighting and the emperor wouldn’t care less!

At the turn of the 20th century, men were cutting their cues and adopting western fashion while the more traditional/good wives would continue their Qing era Han style dressing while the more progressive ones would adopt the western dresses as well.

Because there has been so little attention paid to the Qing dynasty Han women fashion until recent years, this part of Chinese female fashion history has been an extremely underrated invisible middle child despite it being the bridge between the Hanfu of Ming period and the Cheongsam of the 20th century.

Next up, I will look at the early eras of Cheongsam, before it became the Cheongsam we are familiar with today.

Till then, have a think about what is your definition of Fashion, and let me know your thoughts!

Kids in Folk Art & Year of the Ox

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Many years ago I curated an exhibition in Melbourne’s Brunswick Street Gallery, exploring the boundaries between Folk Art as Fine Art pieces in the setting of a gallery. This remains one of my favourite topics–the breaking of artificial (and pretentious) barrier between what is considered folk (therefore kitschy and low-class) vs fine art. So we have come of the time of the year when folk art and traditions rule our celebrations, and you can never be too kitsch for it–THE CHINESE NEW YEAR! And since today’s the 7th day of the Chinese New Year, also known as the day of the Human/People (we were believed to be created by the mythical goddess on the 7th day), there’s nothing more suitable than to talk about birth and tiny human in this edition!

There is no end to the cliches and stereotypes related to this Chinese festival, but the best part about it is, I’m learning and starting to enjoy these cliches and stereotypes simply because they do reflect the very folk and down-to-earth part about my culture. As a traditionally agrarian society for thousands of years, the farmers were only second to the officials and literati (technically), and their art and customs should be equally celebrated as that of the literati even if they seemed really simplistic and unrefined to our modern consumeristic eyes.

Being an agrarian society means that the folks were deeply atuned to the changing seasons, and the crossing of one entire year to another meant the greatest of all seasonal celebrations. The Nian Hua (CNY folk woodblock prints) were visual representation and expressions of these simple folks’ well wishes for the family, friends, and nation in the coming year, and they were carved onto woodblocks for mass printing so that everyone could have a piece of the well wishes in their household. China is the inventor of woodblock (and later on movable) printing and paper (yes, Gutenberg didn’t invent the printing press), so the practice of printed posters for new year was widespread from as early as the Song dynasty (11th century).

The prints which started out as prints of deities for protection and blessings became increasingly popular in the Ming dynasty that followed, and took on a lot of different subject matters that are much more relatable to the everyday folks by the mid Qing dynasty.

I think for many of us, when we think about the woodblock prints would think of the image of a child with a carp (at least that’s the case for me anyway). So I took the opportunity to dress my tiny new model for a shoot, exploring the different aspects of children’s attire and the symbolism of auspiciousness in the process! It isn’t Chinese New Year Woodblock Print for the folks if it isn’t filled with contrasting colours and auspicious imageries!

One of the most symbolic children’s apparel would be the belly wrap–earliest finding dated to about Tang dynasty in the 7th to 10th century. Although probably not necessarily in the current form as we recognise it to be today, the practice of covering the front area and exposing the back definitely went way back.

Left bottom in red rectangle: children with belly wrap from Dunhuang Grottoes; Right: Children in different forms of red belly wraps from the Song dynasty

It was believed that when you cover the belly area of the child, you are protecting his overall wellbeing and health as the stomach was seen as the master of all 5 major organs, and that it prefers a warmer environment. Basically most of the common illnesses related to kids would/could be attributed to having cold air going through the stomach.

If you noticed the shape of the belly wrap, you would notice that its base is somewhat rounded, instead of the corner of a sharp lozenge shape, and the other 2 corners at the two sides would be sharp edged. Apparently it was to echo the Chinese believe that the sky is round and the earth is flat–the harmony between heaven and earth and that the human is connected with such natural order even for a child. In the more elaborate forms, the belly wrap would be embroidered with all kinds of auspicious motifs such as the “5 vernomous creatures” (snake, toad, scorpion, lizard and centipete). In a society back in those days where infant deaths were abundant, it was hoped that these vernomous creatures would drive away the evil spirit and real

Kids would also always wear what is known as the Longevity Lock necklace, which acts like a goodluck charm. The necklace is in the shape of a Ruyi (Everything goes according to one’s wishes) wish well wishes carved onto them and usually made of gold of silver although there were also those made of jade, silk, fabric and other materials. The origin of it is was due to the fact that in the ancient past especially in the Ming dynasty when the government was trying to push for the use of paper currencies, gold and silver were not permitted to be used for transactions, so the rich would then use whatever gold or silver they had to make into accessories instead. Yes, the TV shows probably had us all fooled into thinking the rich could just take out one of the gold ingots in exchange for things, but the reality is gold was only reserved for high officials and royalties, and in the Tang dynasty it was usually gifted by the emperor so you couldn’t just simply give away or use something the emperor bestowed upon you, could you?

The image of young child in red belly wrap with a longevity neck ring on a lotus might remind you of Thumbelina (Chinese version), but these element make up an iconic auspicious image in Chinese tradition, occasionally with an added frog at the bottom of the painting. It was believed that such image would bless you with many sons as lotus is the homophone of “continuous” and its many seeds symbolises fertility–童锁带莲，贵子连连(Child with longevity lock and a lotus, brings you son one after another).

You would probably think of Nezha, or Hong Hai’er (Red Boy of the Bull Demon King from the Journey to the West), now that we put a lotus, the neck rings and the red belly wrap together.

Left: one of the many images of Nezha; Right: then iconic look of the Red Boy

The original idea of Nezha was actually a Zoroastrian god from the Persian culture–Nowzar, a great warrior and hero. Zoroastrian was very openly accepted and practised by Persian migrants to the Tang empire in the 8th to 10th century. Many deities in Chinese Buddhist and Taoist traditions as we know today are absorbed from different cultures outside of China and Nezha is one of them. Buddhism absorbed Nowzar and then Chinese Taoism followed suit in adopting its story, and somewhere down the road we have a fusion of all these different cultural beliefs and many versions of the story.

The Chinese story of Nezha was that of a righteous and impulsive child born into a noble family in the Tang dynasty with superb combat abilities (despite his young age). He got into a fight with one of the dragon kings (there were different dragon kings governing different parts of the seas), and killed him. In order not to implicate his parents for what he did, Nezha stood before the gods and shaved his own flesh and bones, and severed his own limbs as a form of self punishment. Buddha then reassembled and restored his broken body using the lotus roots for his limbs, and revived him.

The image of the Red Boy is somewhat similar, but often depicted with 2 horns or partially shaved head with islands of long hair tied up/braided up. The greatest difference is, Nezha was seen as a hero, a symbol of filial piety and redemption while the red child was seen as a rebellious demon child. I kind of suspect that this is the Chinese’s way of judging a child by their parents–one is of noble blood, another is of demon blood. The Red Boy is simply another fierce and powerful child, who inherited superb combat skills and power from the combination of his parents–the Iron Fan Princess, and Bull Demon King:

The Bull Demon King was originally a white ox, which managed to obtain supernatural powers. His official wife (haha there’s a mistress somewhere down the road) holds the mythical Iron Fan that could extinguish any fire, and notedly the fire from the Flaming Mountain (Xinjiang region today). The Flaming Mountain is supposedly the hottest place in China, with a temperature of 47.8 degrees Celsius during summer and surface heat of up to 89 degrees Celsius! The Tang dynasty people gave it its name–Fire Mountain.

It was unacceptable for grown adults back then to cut their hair due to a Confucian classic on filial piety stating that your hair were gifts from your parents, and you should take good care of it and not harm/damage/destroy it in any way as acts of filial piety. One of the most insulting punishment in those days was to shave their head off, so you can imagine how serious the ancient Chinese took this matter.

But children, they are exceptions to this rule. In fact, they are supposed to have their head shaved within their first month of birth because of the belief that the delivery process has tainted their body with dirty blood and its associated bad luck, so you have to shave them off in order to not offend the deities when the child get out of the dedicated confinement room. And for girls whose dark straight long locks were symbols of beauty, it was believed that shaving the head meant that the baby hair will grow to darker, thicker strands.

To strike a middle ground (very Chinese, this dedication to maintaining the middle ground), their heads were not to be shaved completely. In fact, they should always have a areas of hair that’s left unshaved. And you can imagine the many different styles of such–the ancients surely exercised lots of creativity in styling their children’s hair. In a painting from the Southern Song dynasty in the 12th century (傀儡婴戏图 Children playing with puppets, below), you could see that each of the 4 children had a different hairstyle. Those who tied them up, used a red string for fastening.

傀儡婴戏图 Children playing with puppets by Southern Song artist Liu Song Nian in the 12th century

There are a lot of other symbolism related to the Nian Hua (Chinese woodblock print), children’s apparels (embroideries, shapes, colours) and children’s accessories (the longevity lock’s motif and word engravings, shapes, material) which I won’t go into detail yet (too heavy for the holiday period). I hope that this entry kind of just open up certain understanding of how important dressing up was to the ancient people, and the rich symbolism and meanings that they embed into even the most mundane of things!

Here’s wishing everyone a Happy Chinese New Year of the Ox from #hanfugirl and #hanfubaby! May your year be filled with Auspiciousness like how I’m filling the remaining of this entry with auspicious imageries!

Disclaimer: No child was harmed in the process of the shoot. No make up was applied on her either! It’s all post production 😉

Empress Dowager Cixi’s greatest love rival–Noble Consort Mei

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There were only 3 women who bore a child for Emperor Xianfeng, and out of the 3 children, 2 were male heirs. One was the son of Empress Dowager Cixi (then Royal Consort Yi), and the other, son of Noble Consort Mei (then Concubine Mei). In many online articles, it was said that Empress Dowager Cixi was mother to the emperor’s only son, but truth is, one of his favourite concubines–Noble Consort Mei, also bore him a son who was written out of history as he passed away just hours after birth. Emperor Tongzhi, who succeeded Emperor Xianfeng, posthumously gave his deceased brother a title–Lord Min.

The life of Noble Consort Mei in the palace was like the most stereotypical storyline in every Qing palace drama. Born to the Manchurian Booi Aha status, she entered the palace as a palace attendant and rose through the ranks (jumping 2 ranks in 1 year). I don’t know about where you work, but such progression in any civil service is probably quite unimaginable and likely so in the Qing harem unless you are very much favoured by the emperor. Yes, the system of the imperial consort was very much like the civil service where there were protocols on their behaviour, progressions, and monthly pay/remuneration. And the Empress is supposed to be the one who oversaw all these, but her decisions could be overwritten by the Emperor.

Trivia time: Most people thought Plain Yellow banner would be the most prestigious, considering it sounded imperial and official. However, the emperor’s banner is actually Bordered Yellow banner.

The Manchurian system of banners and hierarchy is an interesting one and I think it’s important to explain it a little since we watch so much of the Qing imperial drama. In Yanxi Palace, we were introduced to the Booi Aha status which Er Qing the supervillain was born into, and the emperor mentioned multiple times that he would ‘raise the banner’ for some of the concubines. So what are all these about?

The Manchurians are also known as “People of the banners旗人” in Chinese. Initially the Manchurians were divided into 4 banners–the plain red, blue, yellow and white banners. Subsequently, it was further divided into the 4 bordered banners, forming a total of 8 banners with the emperor heading 3 of them–Plain yellow, Plain white, and Bordered yellow (indicated in yellows above) and the other 5 were deemed to be more inferior.

Royal Consort Mei was born in to the Plain Yellow Banner status, and although her family weren’t the leaders in the clan (they could be the followers/servants in the clan, or they could be relatives with different surnames from the clan leaders), the very fact that she was born into the more prestigious banner (the 3 indicated in yellow above), meant that she was born a free person and not belonging to any household (like an item/belonging of the master). In ancient times, if you were a servant, then typically you are registered as possession of your master’s family instead of a free person.

So when they mentioned “raise the banner” of the clan, it meant to raise someone’s family status from that of belonging to the lower 5 banners to that of the 3 directly under the emperor’s charge. In her case, her family was already part of the 3 more prestigious banners.

There is some element of sensationalism when we read accounts of her being born as a palace attendant and rising through the ranks to a Noble Consort because it sounded as if she broke the glass ceiling when the actual context is something quite different. Although she was a “palace attendant”, she was not of the slave caste or anything inferior (anyway the slave caste was supposedly abolished by her time), it was just that she was born into a less prestigious family as compared to the rest of the other concubines who are direct descendants of aristocrats (kinda like Princess Diana’s lineage compared to that of Prince Charles’).  Bearing in mind that her clan was one of the prestigious 3 banners under the direct charge of the emperor, so she was perfectly eligible to be a concubine. Sorry, no glass was shattered in the process.

Possibly Noble Consort Mei got too arrogant, and offended the emperor and she was then caught abusing her attendant, and laughed and joked with her eunuch in a manner that was unbefitting of her status. As a result, the emperor downgraded her rank by 3 to that of a ‘chosen maid’ which meant that she was not even considered part of the emperor’s harem at that point. This demotion was way lower than her starting mark as palace attendant, and was definitely a huge insult and an extremely humbling experience for her.

One would’ve thought that it’s the end of her good life as we know it, but she bounced back stronger in just half a year. Before you know it, she had regained her original status and was gave birth to a boy shortly after! That would have been the emperor’s second son (the eldest one was from the Empress Dowager). In those days, if you could bear a son for the emperor, your life was set. However, her child passed away just 4 hours or so after birth.

The emperor attempted to console her by promoting her status by yet another rank, but we all know that this was the end of any ambition that she might have to becoming an empress. Emperor Xianfeng passed away 2 years later when she was just 25 years old, and the new emperor promoted her to Royal Consort out of respect and she spent her remaining 28 years in peace. Even when Empress Dowager was getting rid of her all rivals, she was benevolent to the harmless Royal Consort Mei and left her alone.

I had a discussion with a Qing history researcher as to whether it was a blessing or a curse to have lost her son. From a mother’s point of view, it’s definitely a curse because I believe most of us would readily give up our own lives for our child. But from a very pragmatic point of view, her son might not have survived the tactics of Empress Dowager, and she might die alongside with him at some point instead of a more peaceful retirement. In the worst case scenario, their fight for the throne (or their perceived threat by the Empress Dowager) might have gotten her entire clan killed even.

A painting of Royal Consort Mei was done when she was in her retirement mode:

玫贵妃春贵人行乐图轴 Scroll painting of Royal Consort Mei (Middle) and Noble Lady Chun (Left)  having a day out. I think they conveniently left out High Rank Attendant Xin (Right) in the title.

And because that is the only painting of her that we have, I have edited my photo to try to look like her:

Notice that in this painting, only the bottom lip is painted. This style of lip makeup was one of the most popular style in Qing dynasty, and you can spot them in many other official imperial portraits of the period. I have also removed her swallowtail in this photo-painting to be more period-accurate. The buttons are most likely detachable metal buttons which is something quite unique to the period. Buttons in the Qing robes are very much like the cufflinks of today, and you could vary and switch around different sets of buttons as you wish, so they were not sewn on but hooked on.

THE END

NOTE: While I was researching on Royal Consort Mei, I realised that different records recorded her title differently: 玫贵妃 vs 玟贵妃. It is likely due to recording error (kinda like typo in today’s context), and I choose to call use the word Mei because it was what was indicated in the official record of her title conferment and it is also the word used by the Palace Museum in its caption for the artwork above.

I also found another painting, painted about 20 years apart which bore an uncanny resemblance to the portrait with Royal Consort Mei. We had a long discussion amongst the hanfugirls on whether it was a mistaken identity, or was it some kind of ‘uniform’ they wore for a particular rank, or was it just the laziness of the court artist who might not have seen them in real life and just painted from some template. Because the lotus on the hair, the ring they wore, and the type of dress they were wearing seemed really too similar to be a coincidence.

Well, the discussion is open if you wish to join in! But unfortunately, nobody has an answer to that for now.

孝慎成皇后观莲图 Painting of Empress Xiaoshencheng admiring lotuses (Detail)
Empress xiaoshencheng was the Royal Consort Mei’s mother-in-law, but this painting was painted post-humously. I kinda like the orchid in the fan she’s holding.

Special thanks to Qing History Society (Singapore) for fact checking on this article and to clarify some of my queries.

Greatest modern Chinese innovation now–The face mask

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This morning I woke up to the glorious news that the WHO finally encourages the wearing of face masks as an added measure to limit the spread of Covid. For the longest time, the media outside of East Asia generally credit the wearing of masks to ‘cultural differences’ instead of real “effectiveness” in stopping the virus from spreading. Of course, the virus clearly doesn’t care what the media narrative is, and would just destroy everything in its way as long as there isn’t any barrier.

Amidst all the fear, panic, drama, of course, history fails to deliver interesting insights, and this time, it is about face masks. Our story of facemasks began just over 100 years ago in 1911 with an origin not unlike the current covid–a plague in Manchuria China, and extending to the world-wide Spanish Flu in 1918. It is a story about human hubris, prejudice and how sound reasoning prevails eventually regardless of culture and race.

WESTERN DOCTORS AND THEIR REASON FOR MASKING UP IN THE 1700s

Copper engraving of Dr. Schnabel, a plague doctor in 17th century Rome. [Image: Wiki Commons]

In the West, people thought that diseases that caused plagues were in the air, so they wore bird-like masks with nostril ports at the edge which could be loaded with incense to drive away the disease. They largely believed that by stopping the smell, they would protect themselves from the plague itself.

The plague during that period was spread by fleas that traveled on rats, so clearly it wasn’t very useful for that purpose.

WESTERN IDEAS OF MASKS IN THE LATE 1800s

Image from the web for illustration purposes

With the development of Western scientific and medical knowledge in the 1870s, the West were aware of the existence of bacteria. But that, was not the same as viruses as we know today. So they started wearing handkerchief-like things around their faces not so much to protect themselves against viruses and infections, but to prevent the bacteria from doctors’ coughs from infecting patients’ wounds during a surgery. Very much like the purpose of surgical masks today.

THE MANCHURIAN CHINESE PLAGUE IN 1911 & THE SOUTHEAST ASIAN CHINESE STORY

Something similar to the Black Death in northern China broke out in late 1910, which is also towards the end of the fall of the last dynasty of China the Qing dynasty, governed by the Manchurians. It killed 100% of those infected within 24-48 hours of display of symptoms.

As it happened at an area of dispute between China and Russia, it became a race for both nations to find solutions and cause of the disease (kinda like the Cold War, and also the situation now).

Healthcare workers in “anti-plague masks” during the 1911 Manchurian plague. [Photo: courtesy University of Cambridge/Centre for Research in the Arts, Humanities and Social Sciences (CRASSH, The University of Cambridge)/The University of Hong Kong Libraries] Photo from the web.

The Chinese Imperial Court brought in a doctor named Lien-teh Wu who was born and bred in Penang (Malaysia today) and studied in Cambridge. He figured out that it’s not spread by fleas as in the 1700s, but through the air (very much like Covid-19!). So he took inspiration from the idea of masks that already existed to prevent bacterial infection in the West, added gauze and cotton and several layers of cloth in an attempt to filter, filter and filter the inhalations, and VOILA! A Chinese mask for a Chinese plague was created!

Singaporeans might be familiar with early pioneers such as Dr Lim Boon Keng and Song Ong Siang. It might interest you to know that Dr Lien-teh Wu are friends with them, and like them, was also a recipient of Queen’s Scholarship to Cambridge for his studies.

RACISM AND HUMILIATION ENSUES FOR THE CHINESE INNOVATION

As usual, success stories are never complete without some struggles on the side of the protagonist. When this Chinese mask was innovated/invented, obviously it was met with Western skepticism (mind you it was at a period when Manchuria China was falling apart, and the West generally regarded Chinese as an old and dying empire).

Image from the web. Dr Lien-teh Wu, the Penang doctor educated in Cambridge and spoke very little Chinese, was tasked by the Manchurian Chinese government to find solution for the plague in 1911.

A French doctor Gérald Mesny was said to have humiliated Dr Wu after hearing his explanations and reasoning, and famously exclaimed “What can we expect from a Chinaman?” And in all willfulness and pride, Dr Mesny went ahead to attend to patients in a hospital without wearing Dr Wu’s mask. Dr Mesny died in 2 days with the plague. RIP.

SOUND REASONING PREVAILS AGAINST RACISM AND PREJUDICE

Because sound reasoning and science would always prove themselves right eventually against hubristic pride, Dr Wu’s mask won out in empirical testings against bacterial transmissions (still not viruses yet). Plus, it could easily be made from cheaply available materials, and it has a nice seal around the face. So in the early 1911 (just before the fall of the Manchurian Qing government of China), the production of such masks were in full speed. Medical staff, soldiers, even some men on the street started wearing them.

It was a resounding success against the spread of the plague, and the masks became an icon of modern medical science’s triumph over epidemic. It made international news and Wu’s mask became a poster boy. Wu was also nominated for the Nobel Prize in Medicine in 1935.

A streetcar conductor and passenger in Seattle wearing masks during the 1918 pandemic. [Photo: Wiki Commons]

SPANISH FLU OF 1918 & USE OF MASKS TO LIMIT SPREAD

Most of the media today would compare the current Covid-19 pandemic to the Spanish Flu in 1918, and rightfully so. By this time, the Dr Wu mask was already a household design and item amongst the general public and companies around the world increased production of it for public use to limit the spread.

Of course, it is definitely not 100% effective against the spread since we saw from history that still a large portion of the world were infected. But it could have been worse.

Trumbull’s sketch for a surgical mask, stemming from her 3M bra design. [Image: © Center for Design Institute]

This mask also served as a prototype for the 3M design of N95 mask, which, by the way, has its current shape and design from that of a bra! So don’t laugh at those innovative people out there who really used a bra as a mask!

If you wish to know more about the history of N95 mask, HERE is a more detailed article that I based most of my information in this article on.

TRIVIA: CHINESE IDEA OF INFECTION AND MASKS

A modern surgical mask with Taoist amulet drawn

Of course, the traditional Chinese idea of diseases was very much misguided like the West in the past. So you would see Taoist priests drawing amulets and blessings on items as an attempt to ward off the evil in households.

It might be interesting for you to learn that many Taoist priests practised medicines in the past as well, and there were some well known personalities who were recognised as great physicians. And there is an irony that pure physicians and doctors in ancient Chinese societies were actually regarded very lowly in the social hierarchy. They belonged to the Slave caste, very much like the courtesans and entertainers. Perhaps this is also why medical knowledge in ancient Chinese societies has always been treated with more Taoist principles (such as their link to the I-Ching divinition book of Changes, and the 5 elements).

COVID-19 AND MASKS

Fast forward about 100 years from 1911, or even 1918, we find ourselves again in the middle of a pandemic, and with China as the centre of all kinds of discussions and debates again. And you realise the ever importance of sound reasoning over and above prejudices and racism in fighting against the plague/pandemic. This is a virus that doesn’t care if you are Chinese, or non-Chinese, and it might come from the Chinese (as in the 1911 case) or elsewhere (as in the 1918 Spanish flu), the entire humanity is interconnected anyway.

Masks, even if it is not the N95, could help in limiting certain spread as its best. If it doesn’t, at least it could limit other infections and transmissions so less people are sick (maybe from other flu, or infections), and there is less strain on the healthcare system to treat those people thereby dedicating more resources to fighting covid-19 patients.

It is especially if we go by the first principles of “What’s the harm/trade-off if we wear masks?”. If the cost is low, and we are educated properly on other aspects of hygiene, this would be the icing on the cake. Of course, social distancing or STAY AT HOME would still be the best solution (kinda like the abstinence vs condom discussion). But if you can’t abstain, then at least try to wear a mask!

Isn’t History fascinating? And what I find even more fascinating, is that humanity never learns from it.

Yanxi Palace II–Historically speaking

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Yanxi Palace sequel’s going to be out on Netflix on 31 Dec 2019! Trailer HERE.

So the news is out that there’s going to be a Yanxi Palace sequel released via Netflix last day of the year, which basically covers the second gen stories in the original online novel. I have to say I’m not a big fan of the story, seems a little too dramatic (not that the original one wasn’t). However, what intrigued me is the Mongolian prince in the sequel and also in history.

Lavan/Lhawang Dorji, the Mongolian prince in Yanxi Palace sequel. He exists in history as the 7th son/prince of a Mongolian tribe, hugely favoured/adored by Emperor Qianlong as if he were Qianlong’s own.

Before you call them out on cultural appropriation of the braids (cough), I would like to reiterate that braiding has existed across cultures as the most no brainer way of securing and decorating your hair, and it has thousands of years of history across the world. Africans, Mongolians, Tibetans and many ethnic groups all do that.

I have to admit my bias towards the Mongolian prince over the Manchurian prince in the story, and even over the Manchurian princess whom he got married to. He seems like a much more interesting person to talk about (also cos he lived a ripe old age compared to the princess). So will spend a little bit more of this entry on this (sorry for the misleadingly female-dominated cover picture).

Appointed/Arranged “Child-marriage”

There is an old Chinese custom where parents had the right to decide between the two families that their children will be married to each other when they grow up. My own great greatparents’ marriage was determined that way even before they were born, and when they became of marriageable age, the two families honoured the agreement and they got married to each other.

This was kind of the case for the Mongolian 7th Prince of the Borjigin clan and the Manchurian 7th Princess (Gurun Princess Hejing) of Emperor Qianlong. Kind of because Lavan Dorji was just about 2 years old and the 7th Gurun Princess was only 3 months old when this marriage was arranged by Emperor Qianlong. But their marriage ceremony was only officially performed 14 years later (yea, people used to marry really young and the coming of age ceremony for girls were conducted when they were 15 years old). You might want to say, hey she’s only 14, not 15 yet! well, if we bear in mind that the Chinese considered the 40 weeks in mother’s womb as part of your age, so generally we would add 1 to our modern-calculated age to get our ‘Chinese age’, and that makes her 15 and of marriageable age!

Fast-tracked royal status

Clearly Emperor Qianlong is bias towards this 7th prince, and ordered for him to be brought to the capital to study with the other Manchurian princes in the palace when Lavan Dorji was just 3 years old. Qianlong was concerned that the educational environment isn’t as robust as the ones in his palace (but of course). And when Lavan Dorji was only 4 years old (and the 7th Princess was only 2), Emperor Qianlong brought him to meet the little Princess. Awww… how cute.

In principle, the 4th son of the Mongolian Prince of First Rank (complicated system which I won’t delve into too much at this point) is the rightful successor to the title of the Prince of First Rank (He Shuo prince). However, due to Qianlong’s favouritism, he removed the 4th prince and instated the 7th prince as the successor of this title. Not the most diplomatic thing to do if one were to establish friendly ties with the Mongolian tribe, but I guess it worked out fine thereafter.

If you were the princess in the Yanxi Palace sequel, after reading this article, I guess choosing the Mongolian prince over the Manchurian one would’ve been a no-brainer.

In addition, all of the properties and wealth belonging to his father, the original Mongolian Prince of First Rank, were to be passed to the 7th prince thereafter. Emperor Qianlong made it a point to give out an imperial edict to all of his 6 other brothers on reasons why each one of them did not deserve any inheritance. And because the Mongolian Prince of First Rank’s tribe was extremely wealthy, the 7th prince also inherited a huge fortune from his father.

What’s more! Emperor Qianlong even opened a pawn shop in the capital and got his officers from the Internal Affairs Bureau to manage it with profits all going to the 7th prince!

White Horse and Prince Charming

Typically, princes who married the emperor’s daughters would be sent to the borders to fight the invading armies and defend the Manchurian empire. But in reality, except for the third princess’s husband, none of his other son-in-laws had to fight battles. Same goes for our white horse prince charming Lavan Dorji while the princess was still alive. Instead of being sent back to Mongolia to watch over the Mongolian borders, Emperor Qianlong built a mansion in the capital for the princess and the prince with no need to risk his life at the frontline or in any warfare.

Alas, many of Emperor Qianlong’s daughters didn’t make it too far in life. About half didn’t survive into adulthood, and the 7th Princess only lived till the age of 20.

Prince Charming apparently didn’t do too badly on the battlefield and survived it all. After all, his grandfather, father and uncle were all very accomplished warriors and generals. But beyond that, the biggest reason is that Emperor Qianlong was looking out for him all the way too. He ensured that the prince was accompanied by capable people, and had secret orders for his officials to ensure the safety and fast return of the prince from the battlefields.

While some claimed that he had two major achievements in battle, but he was mostly quite sheltered from the main dangers. Of course, there were two instances where he protected Emperor Jiaqing (who succeeded Emperor Qianlong) from an assassin and a wild bear attack, but that’s about it. I mean he’s probably a brave man, and I have no doubt he would’ve achieved a lot more if not for the over-protection of his father-in-law.

Well, I’m kinda looking forward to the sequel because of the Mongolian prince to be honest.

And there is another interesting story related to Empress Dowager Cixi and the eldest daughter of Prince Kung which I recently learnt about. It would make a brilliant TV show content, but will write about it in time to come and hopefully one day a show on it will happen!

Mirage of a Chinese Garden 镜花水月

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Tomorrow’s the western Valentine’s day, and in a few days more we’ll be celebrating the Chinese valentine’s day, thus this article.

A while ago we had a lecture by Jonathan Tan, founder and owner of Blanc Studios, on Chinese gardens. Jon learnt Ikebana from young and is extremely knowledgeable in Chinese architecture and gardens and uses a lot of East Asian aesthetics in his floral design and creations. We were all pleasantly surprised by what we learnt about the Chinese philosophy of a garden and how it was a paradigm shift from the West. The Japanese garden, though inspired by the Chinese garden concept took on its own form and trajectory of development as well!

In an ideal Chinese garden, as I’ve learnt from Jonathan, there’re meandering paths which offer you a different perspective of the garden layout every turn you take. The entire point is not to get from point A to B, but to enjoy the entire walk through it and be surprised by the unexpected sights along the way. In certain more elaborate designs, there would be a pavilion which opens up to 4 directions, each offering you a view of a different season. This reminds me of the ancient palaces which were built to mirror the seasons and the emperor would stay in different side of the palace during the changing seasons in alignment with the 5 elements. You can watch an episode on Chinese and Japanese garden HERE, hosted by Monty Don, a British celebrity gardener (of course, the Brits love their gardens too! of a completely different aesthetic philosophy!).

This is the Chinese lantern that most are familiar with, at night we’ll see a totally different style of lantern which was popularised in the Ming dynasty (14th century) around Souther China.

There were also a lot of odd-shape rocks which reminded the Chinese of the peaks and valleys of actual mountains like Huangshan (yellow mountain) and likes. If you have seen a Chinese landscape on a foggy day (or early morning on a cooling day), you would realise just how realistic the Chinese paintings are (contrary to what western art historians like to say about Chinese paintings being abstract).

And it is interesting how everything were in shades of greys. I had the pleasure of travelling to this ancient town in central China a while ago, and the entire town was covered in thick fog in the early morning and late night. You could sit by the wooden stilt balconies by the river at night, and see the fog move past you. In the morning, if you get up early enough, you can catch the ethnic Miao ladies in their traditional wear and baskets around the backcrossing the bridge. One of my most memorable and recouperative experiences.

I did not know anything about the Dahlia flower until this shoot, because it’s non-native to China. But I fell in love with the dinnerplate Dahlia that can grow to as big as one’s face! I wonder if the Tang dynasty women would fall in love with Dahlia as much as they love the Peony!

But I would imagine the imperial court getting ready for the largest lantern/light festival of the year in the day by hanging lanterns. and there would be long walkways built with fancy lanterns and large lantern displays in other more open spaces.

That’s day time at the imperial garden of Qing dynasty (1644-1911). Maybe. 😛

When night fell, I slipped into a Ming dynasty style (1368-1644) for the three reasons below:

1. The Forbidden City, although mostly associated with the Qing dynasty, was actually built in the Ming dynasty and continued to be constructed and resided by the Manchurian rulers of Qing dynasty after conquering and taking over China from the Ming dynasty Han Chinese rulers.
2. Although Manchurian rulers mandated for all Han Chinese to adopt the Manchurian ways of dressing, Han women were exempted from this and women could still wear Ming dynasty dresses.
3. Throughout history, the nomadic tribes have always looked up to Han Chinese culture as a “high culture” and as a result, emperors and concubines would also occasionally “cosplay” by wearing Han Chinese dresses. There were even portraits of emperors and concubines in Han Chinese wear that survived till today. Of course, they wore mainly the late Ming dresses while I was wearing the early Ming one.

NIGHT FALLS

This is a very much fusion design of a Chinese pavilion due to its abundance of colours that filled up most of the spaces. Ancient Han Chinese literatis put a lot of emphasis on the negative spaces, because they believed that the negative space leaves a lot more to viewers’ imagination. An extremely advanced and empowering concept.

The ancient Chinese believed that the sky is round and the earth is square/flat, and so their pavilions were also built with that in mind. Most of the pavilions would have a circular top, and a squarish/angular bottom. Of course, traditional Chinese pavilions are not as decorative and fancy as Chinese aesthetics emphasises the negative space a lot. So having nothing means so much more to the ancient Chinese than having something there–leaves a lot more room for possibilities and projection of ideas from the viewers’ perspective.

The top blouse got longer and longer from Early to Late Ming dynasty, opposite from the development of Korean Hanbok which started similar to the early Ming dynasty style and its blouse got shorter and shorter over time.

If you are familiar with my work, you would realise that I RARELY have women with their hair down. This is because technically, women are supposed to comb their loose hair back after coming of age (15 yrs old) and it would be seen as inappropriate to have loose hair around. That being said, there were also other proofs that occasionally women did let down their hair in history (see what I did there? :P) and in this case, I would also like to allude to the courtesans residing in the Green Mansions (subtle subtext) who were like the geishas and were admired for their artistic and literary talents in the late Ming and early Qing period. The most famous few were the 8 beauties along the Qinhuai River (southern China around Nanjing).

The term Green Mansion was originally used to refer to the grand buildings where kings and nobles lived. Over time, it became a term used to describe the grand places of dwelling of the best courtesans before eventually being loosely used to refer to brothels. It must note that the practice of Geisha was heavily influenced by the courtesans of Tang dynasty China where women were valued for their talents and not so much their looks. Their presence was appreciated by extremely learned or influential men they were brilliant hosts of parties and gatherings. Top scholars in Tang dynasty would be parading around accompanied by the courtesans as part of their celebratory parade. Even the Song dynasty emperor had to beg for the love of the top courtesan, who unfortunately preferred someone else to him.

Of course, there’s nothing more fitting than to pair the Qinhuai lantern (which also started in Ming dynasty) with a Qinhuai courtesan! This entire lantern is handmade from many small pieces of paper folded into shape. Extremely delicate and one of the most beautiful lanterns I’ve ever laid my eyes on! My Chinese friend gifted it to me as she knows how much I love intangible cultural heritage crafts!

There are a few Chinese Valentine’s Day, and the upcoming one which on the 15th day of the first month of the lunar new year (this year it’s on 19 Feb 2019). Traditionally, women were allowed to get out of their house on this date, with lanterns and all, and by Tang dynasty China (about 7th century), people could roam the streets freely to see the majestic lantern displays at night for 3 nights in a row (Yes, there’s a state-imposed curfew otherwise).

More mid-autumn festival than mid-autumn festival. If you know what I mean.

The night comes alive with all the celebrations, performances, firecrackers, and of course, boy meets girls.

Traditional love stories of boy meets girl in ancient China usually happens during this period/on this date. However, in reality, the modern understanding of love rarely existed between married couples and were more prevalent between the courtesans and their patrons. This is an area of great interest because in recent years, Chinese courtesans have been orientalised and eroticised by bad TV shows and it does present a very different perspective of gender equality in ancient Chinese societies.

I am still gearing up for a very intimate, immersive performance which brings to life Tang dynasty courtesan lives and their parties next year (fingers crossed). But so far, the research has been nothing short of fascinating. I’ll reveal more in time to come but it definitely challenges many of our current assumptions of women and courtesans of ancient China. They were like the original geishas.

And since we’re approaching the 15th day of the 1st month of the Lunisolar Chinese calendar AKA The Lantern Festival, thought of just giving you a big moon with some nice reflections to ponder and have some fun playing a Hanfu edition of “Where’s Wally”. I’ve hidden two peonies (one orangy-red and one red) and a butterfly in the picture.

The piece below I’ve decided to call it Mirage of full bloom (镜花水月 jing hua shui yue). The Chinese title is an expression that is often used to refer to things that are beautiful yet unattainable, but its beauty remained in the deepest of our imagination. It literally translates to The flowers’ reflection in a mirror, the moon’s reflection in water.

Have fun!

All original images were taken at the Gardens by the Bay Dahlia Dreams floral showcase by Dressed Up Dreams Photo Studio (aka my good friend Sharon). We edited the images ourselves separately because we have different editing styles. So you can have a look at her edits for variety as well! 🙂