"A glittering new museum for China (Shanghai)," The Art Newspaper, Oct. 1996, p. 8.

The New Shanghai Museum

by Jason Edward Kaufman

Will a fully modern showcase for a great Chinese collection set new standards for the underdeveloped nation’s museum world?

SHANGHAI. Americans and Europeans imagine museums in the People’s Republic of China as third-world hovels, dilapidated repositories strewn with neglected treasures still unilluminated by the light of Western scholarship and science. Unfortunately, such bleak conditions too frequently correspond with reality, but with the grand showcase that opens here on October 12, at least one major institution belies the stereotype. Newly constructed in People’s Square, the earthquake-proof Shanghai Museum is the most modern exhibition facility in China, replete with climate controlled galleries featuring the latest lighting and display techniques, a conservation laboratory, an auditorium, tea house, gift shops, and a cafe. The museum promises not only to bring greater recognition to one of the world’s finest collections of Chinese art, a synoptic trove of some 120,000 objects, but also to introduce the art of the West to millions of culturally isolated Chinese. The inaugural installation offers nearly 5,000 works in all media, providing a pan-historical survey of China’s four-millennia history. And in a groundbreaking demonstration of the museum’s fledgling internationalism, a temporary exhibition presents 70 European old master paintings from the Thyssen Bornemisza Collection in Madrid

The institution gives every indication of becoming an island of openness furthering bonds between this increasingly cosmopolitan port and the democratic world. Already it is the city’s cultural centerpiece. Designed by Xing Tonghe of the Shanghai Architectural Institute, the $70-million building sprawls along one end of the city’s principal plaza, directly opposite City Hall. Sheathed in pink granite imported from Spain, the massive five-storey structure consists of a circular disc floating horizontally above a rectangular block. Four handle-like arches rise from the roof, creating a composition unmistakably reminiscent of an ancient Chinese bronze, an impression reinforced by the glyph that appears on the rounded wall above the main entrance.

The interior has a marble-paved central atrium surrounded by 14 carpeted galleries, most with low-ceilings to accommodate modest-scaled objects. The halls are filled with rotating displays of bronzes, ceramics, paintings, calligraphies, coins, jades, statues, lacquers and seals, furniture, and books, grouped by medium and arrayed chronologically. Object labels provide information in both Chinese and English, supplemented by interactive computers as well as audio guides available in eight languages. One observer familiar with East Asian museums says the new Shanghai Museum surpasses the older Taipei Palace Museum in the breadth of its displays, and in certain areas -- notably bronzes, coins, Ming- and Qing-dynasty paintings -- rivals even the Palace Museum in Beijing. Its collections do not, however, share those repositories’ imperial lineage.

Founded in 1952, the Shanghai Museum arose in the turbulent aftermath of the 1949 Communist Revolution, when many were fleeing and selling their possessions at bargain prices. The financial hub of the region, Shanghai was home to important collectors and dealers, and the center for export of Chinese art to the West. It was a propitious moment and place to establish a museum, and mayor Chen Yi decided to take advantage of it. The project was completed in less than two years, largely owing to laws that channeled private property into the hands of the government. "In 1952, it was a closed market," recalls George Fan, a Shanghai-born New York businessman and patron of the museum. "The law said only the government could buy art, and collectors had to take whatever the government offered, which was far below value. Every object in the museum was paid for," he says, "but looking back, the prices they paid were ridiculous. Many people feel this was a form of confiscation, though that is a matter of perception."

Several years ago, having outgrown its quarters in an art-deco bank building on Henan Road, the museum secured the prestigious site on People’s Square. The old building was sold and the city and central governments contributed part of the construction costs. Another $10 million came from private donors, mainly Chinese expatriots in Hong Kong, many of whose fortunes had ties to pre-Communist Shanghai. Many have galleries dedicated in their honor.

Director Ma Chengyuan, an authority on Chinese bronzes, joined the museum soon after it was founded and has been director since 1985 [CHECK DATE]. Like his Western counterparts, he sees his mission as a mix of showmanship, education, and conservation. He has high hopes that he can bring significant international exhibitions to a broader Chinese audience. But despite his cosmopolitanism he must operate within the still repressive orbit of communist totalitarianism. During the Cultural Revolution in the early 1970s, when Mao’s Red Guard had targeted cultural institutions, Mr Ma and others were tortured. Since then, the political climate has eased, allowing the museum to send exhibitions throughout the world, particularly to Japan, the United States, Europe, and recently to Taiwan. But communist ideology continues to rear its intrusive head.

Asked if the government seeks to influence museum programs for propagandistic, diplomatic, or other purposes, Mr Ma laughs. "Never," he replies. But his mirth is more mocking than merry. A close associate remarks, "I am sure there is always influence exerted on them. But [Mr Ma and his vice director, ceramics expert Wang Qingzheng] are very smart and they are expert in ducking it. As a result the government has no effect on them. Now and then they are told to attend indoctrination class and told the museum must support communist doctrine. They say, ‘We will do exactly what we are told.’ But then they interpret it in such a way that they go about their own business."

Take Mr Ma’s dealings in smuggled Chinese artifacts. "There is a very big problem with things stolen from Chinese tombs smuggled to Hong Kong," says Mr Fan, who estimates that 95% of the works in shops in Hollywood Road come out of China illegally. "The government executed at least 30 people this year for smuggling," he notes, "but because it is so profitable it keeps going on." At the risk of being accused of collaborating with smugglers, Mr Ma began buying the contraband and repatriating it to the museum. "He feels they are important to Chinese heritage and would otherwise be lost," explains Mr Fan. The government has recently acquiesced and granted him permission to buy abroad for the museum.

Another example of Mr Ma’s maverick management of the museum is his struggle to win permission to show international and contemporary art. The fruits of this victory are the Thyssen show. Mr Fan had put out word that the Shanghai Museum was interested in proposals for temporary exhibitions from the West. Among those he contacted was Julian Thompson, vice chairman of Sotheby’s in NY, who, at a Sotheby’s board meeting mentioned the possibility to his fellow trustee Baron Thyssen who agreed to underwrite the entire affair, though it is not clear how he hopes to profit from doing so.

The museum staff has grown to 330 employees, with scores of curators and conservators whose research is the last word in many areas of Chinese art. Because salaries are nowhere near those for similar posts in the West, many have left for museums such as the Freer Gallery, The British Museum, and Seattle Art Museum. According to one observer, "When Chinese art is concerned, no one comes close to them. The Palace Museum in Beijing has some outstanding people, but it is totally disorganised. By comparison it is a very sleepy place."

For information about the American Friends of the Shanghai Museum, now in formation, call 212.535.6333.

Jason Edward Kaufman ©