798: Beijing’s Art Community

A discarded Soviet-era industrial complex, now housing Beijing’s trendiest artists, is in danger of foreclosure

By TANG YUANKAI

At the end of April, several hundred folks gathered to watch as performance artist He Yunchang climbed into a wooden box, letting two others cement it shut and leaving only two metal pipes—each 10 cm in diameter—for ventilation. He would stay inside for 24 hours.

UNDER WHERE?: Triumph, an international women’s underwear brand, holds a show of its new products at the 798

This was one of a slew of performances at the opening of the one-month First Beijing Dashanzi International Art Festival, taking place at what used to be the No.798 electronics factory. Located in suburban Beijing’s Dashanzi area, it is now a citadel for independent artists in the city.

As a performance artist, He does “experiments” on his own body, like cementing his hands together for 24 hours at a time.

“I intend to test my body with these ‘almost brutal’ experiments. What I want to express is that the willpower of human beings can be stronger than steel and cement.” He explains, “In a new century with increasingly sophisticated technology, people have to depend on their will for power.”

Bending the Mold

To some extent, He’s philosophy embodies the spiritual essence of the art festival: Holding fast to its artistic position while generating a peculiar new subculture in a largely conformist, status quo culture.

Now, an active artistic community, factory 798 used to be an important electronic production site some 50 years ago, making some key components of China’s first atomic bomb and man-made satellite. But by the end of the 1980s the factory stopped most production, cutting loose more than 60 percent of its workers. The “dead “ factory was resurrected several years later by a group of local artists.

They rented the vacant buildings and transformed them into an artist community, which includes galleries, restaurants bars, art workshops and designing and advertising companies. Art, business and intellectuals mingle frequently here, with events ranging from painting and photo exhibitions to theater productions, concerts and fashion shows. It is indeed a showcase of contemporary Chinese art.

Xu Yong, a photographer famous for his images of Beijing’s hutong lanes, rents the largest workshop—1,200 square meters—for a hefty 960 yuan ($115.94) a day. He named it “798 Space,” commonly referred to just as “798.”

ANOTHER ANGLE: Sculptures in the 798 Space compel a photographer to lie on the ground to take a picture

The 798 Space has sponsored several large art exhibitions since April last year, sometimes attracting 2,000 to 3,000 visitors in a single day. Organizers do not need to pay for the space, according to Xu Yong, “as long as we are well suited to each other temperamentally.” Visitors do not need to pay either, policies that he described as the “customs” of the 798 art community.

To make ends meet, Xu said, “We have to rent out buildings for some big time business activities such as promotion shows for Dior, Shell, Toyota and Omega. We have welcomed artists and superstars like renowned Chinese painter Chen Yifei and fashion model Cindy Crawford.”

As for the reasons why these big brands chose the 798, Xu explained, “It suits the goals and personalities of these brands better than any other modern site. Beijing has got many luxurious places, but none of them can give quite the impression like the 798 does.”

In Xu’s opinion, the 798 is part of the history of the People’s Republic of China, simultaneously embodying the People’s Republic’s past, presence and future. In this deregulated economic area, companies are at liberty to create an environment that suits their needs and tastes, rather than adhering to mere popular convention of style or government protocol.

Just next to the 798 Space is a French restaurant, whose manager, Liu Dan, insists that it is the uniqueness of the 798 community that has attracted so many international companies. “You have to form judgment before you buy things. There are a number of reasons for clients to decide whether a purchase is worth the money or not,” he said. “They don’t pick a place on impulse. I have asked many people and they have made up their minds about the value of this place.”

For example, Liu added, Omega, the world famous watch-maker, chose the 798 because it thought a large part of its customers were young people or middle-aged business-types who have a taste for fashion. It carried out a thorough investigation, listing several candidate sites. After the preliminary decision was made, the president of the company came in person to check out the space.

Operating the restaurant is only part of Liu Dan’s work. He is also the chairman of a French international trade company and the secretary general of an East-West cultural exchange association in Paris. During his dozen years in France, he had always wanted to build a place back in China where people could exchange, exhibit and appreciate artistic products while enjoying food in a chic environment. His dream was realized at the 798.

“This community is special in its artistic and fashionable atmosphere,” Liu Dan comments. “It is both a museum and an industrial zone. These are not ordinary 1950s engineering constructions. They are of artistic value and people can touch history here—it relates to both China’s contemporary and future society.” In his opinion, the art community has just started to realize its value, the full meaning of which has yet to be revealed.

What’s the Fate of Beijing’s Art Mecca?

Professor Li Xiangqun of the Academy of Arts and Design, Tsinghua University, has built a workshop of his own here. Li is particularly keen on pointing out the community spirit, indeed, the sense of mission of the place. There seems to be a palpable sense among the resident artists involved in the 798 that the space can function as a beacon to China’s nascent art scene for years to come. “This area makes one feel connected with the outside world. It can lead the cultural advance of Beijing in the future.”

THE 798 SPACE: An exhibition of paintings is one part of the Dashanzi International Art Festival

Li has done a thorough investigation into the architectural features of this area. According to him, the factory was built with the aid of the former Soviet Union, and designed and constructed by more than 50 experts from the former German Democratic Republic (East Germany). With a sickly pale cement facade, red bricks and glass windows, it actually integrated the most advanced architecture of the time. Though technically pragmatic, the spacious workshops, arched roofs, tilted windows bring the bygone era of Soviet-intuited industry kicking back to life.

The space has witnessed the golden era of Chinese modern industry, Professor Li pointed out, and many state leaders have visited the place. Revolutionary slogans and pictures from over 50 years ago now garnish contemporary paintings on the wall, which reflect much of what modern China has come to exude: historical grandiosity and ultra-modernity all at once. “Working here always makes you feel as though you’re living in the past and future at the same time. It is really amazing,” said Li.

His words were echoed by Luo Qing, a painter who has yet to move to the community. “The 798 has an intense scholarly atmosphere. Exhibitions here demonstrate the lucid thoughts and attitudes of painters. This place is not standardized. It is unique and open,” said Luo.

Up and coming painters see the facility as both a venue and an inspiration. “The 798 has also given opportunities to young people. Art college graduates are able to display their works here. This encourages painters to devote themselves to artistic pursuits and promotes communication among artists,” Luo added.

All the people in the 798 area live in decommissioned factory workshops. Most wish to be long-term residents rather than temporary lodgers. Many rent contracts, however, will expire next year. And the owners have disclosed their plan to turn the area into an electronic industry zone and trade area, which has greatly worried the artists.

It is estimated that the area’s real estate is valued at more than at least 1 billion yuan ($120.77 million). Given the economic lure of the land, it is too early to say whether the art community can avoid the fate of one of the few artistic havens in Beijing: being bought out.