-- Artist statement
The construction of Yuan Ming Yuan (The Garden Of Perfect Brightness) and also known as the Old Summer Palace was begun by the Qing emperor Kangxi (r.1662-1723). The complex was built not just as a center from which to rule China but also to replicate the Chinese universe. The natural, political and heavenly elements of that world were all represented in literal form. In addition, to the replication of mythical scenes complete with mountains, seas, the society outside the walls was replicated as well. It was a living tableaux inhabited with an army of eunuchs who played the part of farmers, shopkeepers, sailors and even thieves who, when “caught” were publicly punished, shamed and exiled. As the emperor Qianlong (r.1736-1795) became aware of European palace styles he ordered the Jesuit monks installed at his court to design and build a replica of that world as well, which was known as the Xiyang Lou (Western Palaces). This microcosm of the Qing empire was destroyed in 1860 during the Second Opium War by English and French forces.
Over many decades the site was a source of local building materials, peasant farms, factories, an artist colony and a labor camp where, during the Cultural Revolution, disgraced professors from Peking University were sent to tear down still remaining stone structures. After the government’s violent suppression at Tiananmen Square, Deng Xiaoping declared that “our biggest mistake was in the field of education, primarily in ideological and political education … We didn’t tell them enough about the need for hard struggle, about what China was like in the old days…” Shortly thereafter Yuan Ming Yuan became part of a nation-wide patriotic education program that focused on “bullying and humiliation” from foreign forces. Every student from kindergarten to university age is required to master this material.
On my first visit,I strolled by frozen lakes covered with lively skaters and faux-Qing guards wandering back from their lunch break. The festive air changed dramatically when I reached the gates of the Xi Yang Lou (Western Palaces) area which was thronged with a new queue that required an additional ticket. Unlike almost all of the important Chinese historical sites I visited, visitors were able to freely scramble over and under the ruinscape. People got up close to the stones and caressed and studied their contours. For some it was a perfect backdrop for selfies but other seemed to imagine themselves strolling in an imperial garden. There were also those who were overcome with grave and serious expressions, as if they had just arrived on the still smoldering remains. I felt like I was starting to see the ghosts they were seeing.
James Wasserman is an editorial photographer. From 2006 to 2016 he was based in Beijing working as an editorial and documentary photographer. Now relocated to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania he continues to work in photography and documentary film.
