by Cook, James A. ,Goldstein, Joshua,Johnson, Matthew D. ,Schmalzer, Sigrid
Daily life was affected by rebellion as well. Communities played host to thousands of troops as they passed through town on their way to battle. Grain shipments multiplied to meet the increased demand occasioned by the military presence. Ships carrying wealthy merchants fled regions threatened by the rebels, compelling the state to commandeer other vessels to ensure the prompt delivery of men, grain, and materiel to convenient ports.45 Even in those cities not immediately affected by rebellion, the effects of an uprising were palpable: soldiers and mercenaries crowded ports and teahouses, local trade and transport were disrupted, and prices for necessities like grain and salt rose steadily. In reporting these circumstances, local officials fleshed out a picture of rebellion in its quotidian aspects, illuminating the repercussions of distant violence on the social order.
The emperor was naturally pleased by official reports of victory in the field: tales of righteous violence exercised against a heterodox foe. Less welcome were those letters which explained setbacks and delays: stories of foggy days and impenetrable forests. Routine correspondence informing the court of relief measures for refugees, the arrival of military transports, and the rising price of grain were phrased in bureaucratic language but contained the most significant messages of them all. Although scant on detail, these reports represented the extent to which a local revolt could disrupt an empire, affecting commerce, agriculture, and everyday life. Rebel movements were referred to as “disorder” in court documents; taken in toto, the official view suggests that the rebels lived up to their moniker.
Conclusion
A focus on the visual experience of rebellion inevitably highlights that last observation. Rebels may have valued the community and belief structures undergirding their movement but they were not immune to violence. Elite observers bewailed the fate of civilians caught between rapacious rebels and murderous militia. Officials itemized casualties as they filed requisitions for more troops, more money, more grain. Viewed in human terms, rebellion engendered disorder and chaos, even if the rebels themselves did not fit that mold. When viewed from the human-eye perspective, it is the disruption of daily life and routine that is most significant. The fact that the rebels failed in their quest matters less than the fact that they began, setting off a chain of events which, with the aid of select sources, we can begin to imagine in visual terms.
Abbreviations used in notes:
GZDJQ Gongzhongdang Jiaqing chao zouzhe [Palace memorials of the Jiaqing period], National Palace Museum, Taipei, Taiwan.
GZDGX Gongzhongdang Guangxu chao zouzhe Secret Palace Memorials of the Kuang-hsu period (Taipei: Guoli gugong bowuyuan, 1973–1975).
QDNM Zhongguo renmin daxue lishixi, Zhongguo diyi lishi dang’anguan, Qingdai nongmin zhanzheng shi ziliao xuanbian [Selected historical materials on peasant rebellion in the Qing dynasty] (Beijing: Zhongguo renmin daxue chubanshe, 1984).
QZQWS Zhongguo shehui kexueyuan Qingshi yanjiushi, Zhongguo shehui kexueyuan lishi yanjiusuo ziliaoshi, Qing zhongqi wusheng bailianjiao qiyi ziliao [Materials on the five-province White Lotus Uprising of the mid-Qing] (Nanjing: Jiangsu renmin chubanshe, 1981).
notes
1. Paul Cohen’s treatment of the Boxer Uprising is a notable exception to this trend. Paul Cohen, History in Three Keys: The Boxers as Event, Experience, and Myth (New York: Columbia University Press, 1997).
2. See Hongxing Zhang, “Studies in Late Qing Dynasty Battle Paintings” Artibus Asiae 60.2 (2000): 265–296; The Illustrated London News, February 7, 1863.
3. See Kwang-ching Liu, ed., Orthodoxy in Late Imperial China (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1990); Kwang-ching Liu and Richard Shek, eds., Heterodoxy in Late Imperial China (Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 2004).
4. QZQWS, vol. 5, 35–36.
5. See, for example, QZQWS, vol. 5, 1–3; 35–36.
6. QZQWS, vol. 5, 35–36.
7. QZQWS, vol. 5, 32–33.
8. QDNM, vol. 5, 87–89.
9. Susan Naquin, Millenarian Rebellion in China: The Eight Trigrams Uprising of 1813 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1976), 113–114.
10. QZQWS, vol. 5, 9–12.
11. QZQWS, vol. 5, 1–3.
12. QZQWS, vol. 5, 59–60.
13. Zhang Dejian “Zeiqing huizuan” [Accounts of the (Taiping) rebels] in Zhongguo shixuehui eds., Zhongguo jindaishi ziliao congkan, II: Taiping Tianguo [Collection of Historical Materials of Modern China, II: The Taiping Heavenly Kingdom] vol. III (Shanghai: Shenzhou guoguang chubanshe, 1952), 143.
14. QZQWS, vol. 4, 269.
15. QZQWS, vol. 5, 36–41.
16. Cf. Donald Sutton, “Shamanism in the Eyes of Ming and Qing Elites” in Liu and Shek, 209–237.
17. QZQWS, vol. 4, 260.
18. The Taiping rebels sought to convert all of the residents to their faith, an amalgamation of Chinese beliefs and Christianity which centered on Hong Xiuquan, the self-proclaimed Heavenly King, son of God, and brother of Christ. The practice of “preaching” was common in the occupied areas and served to complement the institutional changes made in the Taiping “kingdom.”
19. The Five Relationships are an integral part of Confucian teachings, delineating the fundamental distinctions in society. They are ruler and minister, father and son, husband and wife, elder brother and younger brother, and friend and friend. With the exception of the last, all of the relationships emphasize the respect of the latter for the former, and the protection of the former for the latter.
20. This charge refers to one of the most unpopular Taiping policies, mandating that men and women remain separate and celibate until the establishment of the “Heavenly Kingdom” on earth. The Taiping rulers ultimately allowed marriage among their followers following the occupation of Nanjing later that year (1853).
21. Ma refers here to the concept of “brotherhood” borrowed from the Christian tradition by the Taiping ideologues.
22. Zhang, 312.
23. QZQWS, vol. 4, 261–262.
24. During the late imperial period, the “ideal” female remained within the confines of the home. This arrangement signified the chastity of the woman concerned as well as the wealth of the family. As a gender ideal, the seclusion of women was practised predominately among the upper and middle classes; families of lesser means needed to rely on the labor of every member of the household, whether male or female. On the lives of elite women during the Qing, see Susan Mann, Precious Records: Women in China’s Long Eighteenth Century (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1997); on the presence of women and family in religious movements see Susan Naquin, Millenarian Rebellion in China and Cecily McCaffrey, “Living through Rebellion: A Local History of the White Lotus Uprising in Hubei, China,” Doctoral dissertation, University of California, San Diego, 2003.
25. QZQWS, vol. 4, 264.
26. Zhang, 313.
27. Xie Jiehe, “Jinling guijia jishi lue” [Record of events in Jinling (Nanjing) in the guijia year] as quoted in John Withers, “The Heavenly Capital: Nanjing under the Taiping, 1853–1864” Doctoral dissertation, Yale University, 1983, 77. Translation by Withers.
28. QZQWS, vol. 4, 263–264.
29. Mercenaries in the service of the state often wore red to distinguish themselves; presumably this explains why those wearing red were killed by the rebels.
30. QZQWS, vol. 4, 264.
31. Zhang, 127.
32. Zhang, 127–137.
33. Other formations include “pulling thread,” where the soldiers line up in single file; “one hundred birds,” where the soldiers disperse in small groups; and “crouching tiger,” where the soldiers crawl through the undergrowth. Zhang, 127–130.
34. Zhang, 156.
35. Ibid.
36. Zhang, 155.
37. Zhang, 156.
38. See, for example, GZDGX, 616.
39. See, for example, GZDJQ, document 276.
40. QZQWS, vol. 1, 173–175.
41. Ibid.
42. GZDJQ, document 228.
4
3. QDNM, vol. 5, 119–120.
44. See GZDJQ, document 778.
45. See McCaffrey, Ch. 4.
Chapter 4
Yangliuqing New Year’s Picture
The Fortunes of a Folk Tradition
Madeleine Yue Dong
For more than three hundred years, from the sixteenth century to the early twentieth century, colorful woodblock-printed pictures decorated homes, tea houses, wine shops, and restaurants in towns as well as villages in China during the Spring Festival. These pictures bore different names throughout history, but by the nineteenth century, they were called nianhua, New Year’s pictures. The images reached all levels of society, and they were so important to the families that the word mai (to buy) was often not used in discussing the pictures; instead, this crucial part of the annual celebration was called ying nianhua (welcoming or inviting a New Year’s picture). In his mid-nineteenth-century description of “ten things to do for the New Year,” Li Guangting described the custom: after a thorough cleaning of the house, people put up their New Year’s prints on their walls. It was an occasion particularly exciting to children, and it was considered an important part of their education to look at depictions such as “Filial Piety” and “Busy Work in the Field.” In Li’s words, the pictures “cheered up children, and brightened up the house”1 (Figure 4.1, see website). But the audience for these pictures was not limited to children; adults enjoyed talking about them just as much. Because the pictures would stay on the walls for the whole year (unless it was necessary to take them down), only to be covered by new ones at the next New Year, they were examined repeatedly and carefully throughout the year. The images were interpreted in detail; every possible reading was tried out; stories were told from the pictures; and knowledge and value were created, conveyed, and confirmed through this process.
Two types of images were used for New Year’s decorations. One type was of gods and goddesses who were believed to protect people from disasters and bring them good fortune (Figure 1.4, see Introduction). These included the god of wealth with his wife and attendants, the stove god and his wife, the earth god, silkworm goddess, granary god, the insect king, god of the well, the ox king, horse guardian, and the powerful door gods.2 The other type covered a wide range of themes, such as harvest and seasonal celebrations, daily life activities, scenes from historical stories and dramas, and current events such as wars after the mid-nineteenth century. The term “New Year’s pictures” usually referred to this second type.3 The majority of these New Year’s pictures differed from scholars’ paintings in both motifs and colors. They depict narrative stories and figures in bright colors, in contrast to the primary focus on landscape in ink in scholars’ paintings.
New Year’s pictures were deeply rooted in popular cultural beliefs and practices. The artists adopted symbols and codes familiar to the audience to convey the meaning of the pictures, and many of the apparently simple objects in a picture impart special references understandable to the audience. Figure 4.2 from the Kangxi reign (1661–1722), for instance, appears on the surface to be a simple picture of one young woman playing with a girl and two little boys by a fish bowl. The picture carries the title of “A Hall Full of Gold and Jade” (金玉滿堂). At first glance, the image seems to be lacking in copious amounts of either gold or jade, though the two children dancing around the fish bowl are wearing beautiful pendants. The reason for the title, however, lies elsewhere. In Northern mandarin dialect, the two characters for goldfish (金魚 jin yu) are homophonous with the characters meaning “gold”(金) and “jade”(玉). One layer of implied meaning of this picture, thus, is wealth: the house will be filled with gold and jade. But there is still another layer of meaning in the picture. “Jin” (gold) was usually used in combination with the word for boy to make the word “jin tong” (金童 golden boy), and “yu” (jade) with girls as in “yu nu” (玉女 jade girl). Therefore, the picture also expresses a wish for a house full of healthy and happy children. Each little boy, respectively, wears a pendant made of gold or jade on their neck, and the girl’s hair ornament shows a Buddhist symbol for good fortune. New Year’s pictures, in short, expressed people’s wishes for what they considered good fortune and what was important in their lives. By the time of the Qianlong reign (1735–1795), drama scenes had also become popular in New Year’s pictures, and this trend became more apparent and even dominant with the development of Peking Opera in the late nineteenth century (Figure 4.3).
The most important locations for the production of New Year’s pictures were Taohuawu in Suzhou in the lower Yangtze region, Mianzhu in Sichuan, Weifang in Shandong, and Yangliuqing near Tianjin. I focus on Yangliuqing in this chapter because among these locations, it enjoyed the longest history in picture-making and represented the highest achievement of this folk art form.
The production of New Year’s pictures in Yangliuqing started in the sixteenth century (Ming Dynasty), and reached its peak in the second half of the eighteenth century to the early nineteenth century, when thousands of people were involved in year-round production in this small town and the villages surrounding it. The most productive shops turned out more than one million prints per year that reached a large market in north, northeast, and northwest China.4 Yangliuqing’s picture production, however, began to show clear signs of decline in the late nineteenth century, and it almost disappeared by the late 1930s. How did this form of folk art that had enjoyed such a long history nearly disappear within such a short time? Why did its decline and disappearance happen at this historical moment? In order to understand the development and decline of Yangliuqing New Year’s pictures, we need to examine the context of major historical changes: wars, technological developments (railroads, lithography), and economic shifts. The content, quality, and eventually the very existence of these pictures cannot be properly interpreted without understanding the history of the materials used to make them, the labor processes, as well as the distribution and economic networks of the printing business. In this way, Yangliuqing New Year’s pictures are an excellent example for understanding how ways of seeing and looking at images changed over the years, and how comprehending the larger history is crucial to understanding something as small and everyday as a picture on the wall.
Figure 4.2 This Kangxi-era New Year’s painting titled “A Hall Full of Gold and Jade” expresses aspirations for both wealth and a happy family full of sons and daughters. The Surroundings include fine furniture, embroidered robes, and a glimpse of an elegant garden through the window, depicting an idealized and comfortably wealthy setting. From: Pan Yuanshi and Wang Lixia, Yangliuqing ban hua [Yangliuqing Prints]. Taipei: Xiongshi tushu gufen youxian gongsi, 1975.
Figure 4.3 This Guangxu era (1871–1908) print captures the exciting climax of the popular Peking opera Chongxiao Lou. Note the play’s name in the top right (the word “Chong” is missing due to damage, but “xiao” and “lou” are clearly visible) and that each character is also labeled by name to aid viewers in identifying the scene. This play and scene are highly martial in content, as were the majority of plays most popular with commoner audiences. In this scene, friends band together to victoriously revenge a sworn brother, thus the image conveys values of loyalty and brotherhood.
The Tradition
A pattern emerges when we examine the geographical locations of the centers of New Year’s picture production: except for Mianzhu in Sichuan, the other three major centers, including Yangliuqing, were located on the Grand Canal, the most important economic artery throughout most of the history of imperial China. This indicates that Yangliuqing’s fortune was closely tied to the imperial economic system. The town was first recorded as Liukou in the Han Dynasty, and its name changed to Yangliuqing (Green poplars and willows) in the Qing Dynasty, following a reputation established by numerous poems praising the scenic view of lush trees along the waters.5 Yangliuqing prospered when Beijing became the imperial capital in the Ming Dynasty in the mid-fifteenth century. When the Ming rulers first moved their c
apital to Beijing, the court used both land and canal transportation for grain shipment from the south, supplemented by shipment via the ocean, just as in the Yuan Dynasty. Later, the land and ocean transportation were both abolished, and the shipment of grain became exclusively dependent on the Grand Canal.6 In the Ming, about 4,000,000 piculs of unhusked rice were being shipped up the canal every year under the supervision of 120,000 soldiers.7 The Grand Canal kept regions along its route prosperous for four hundred years (for map of Grand Canal see Figure 2.1). Grain boats passed through Yangliuqing and brought to this town, in addition to other goods, news and stories from other parts of the country, paper and tinting from Suzhou, the center for New Year’s picture production in south China. Except for the yellow, black, and golden pigments, which the Yangliuqing artists made themselves, all of the other colors came from the Yangzi region, especially Suzhou.8 As a result of the wealth of the region, as well as the pressure of population density on land, Yangliuqing became a hub of mobility for goods and people, and its economic life centered on commerce. Thus, villagers around Yangliuqing made their living not only by growing and selling grain, vegetables, and flowers, but also by making wrapping paper for shops with recycled waste paper or engaging in the picture business. As most people in Yangliuqing were in some way involved in businesses, many of them consequently traveled all over the country, some as far as Xinjiang.9
It is difficult to locate documents that can tell us exactly how New Year’s painting production in Yangliuqing started. But we do know that the earliest practice of posting pictures at New Year’s was recorded in the Ming palace and included Yangliuqing pictures.10 Yangliuqing’s close connection to the outside world was shown in the artistic style of its pictures. Picture production certainly benefited from the development of woodblock book illustrations, which, since its development in the tenth century, had become considerably refined. In addition, the gathering of artists in Beijing, the arrival of Western artists, and the promotion of landscape wood engravings and brass engraved wall maps by the 1700s all appear to have affected the Yangliuqing styles and contributed to the maturity of its pictures.11 The recognition of Yangliuqing pictures was such that in 1867, Yangliuqing artist Gao Xuantong was invited into the palace to paint portraits for the Empress Dowager Cixi (Figure 4.4, see website).12