THOMAS PODVIN’S FREELANCE WORK
Freelance writer - translator - Editor

This column is a part of a monthly contribution to the national daily China Youth Daily. It was published on August 8, 2006 in the paper and in the China Youth Daily Website. Originally written in English, it was translated into simplified Chinese by Joy Shao Jie.

English version:

Spices are very common components of the Chinese cuisine. Most westerners are not used to the hot spicy dishes though. Let’s see how foreign friends react to the red spices when they arrive in China while Chinese are so accustomed to them.

From Xinjiang to Yunnan, passing by Hunan or Sichuan, Chinese food is very spicy. Actually abroad, the name “Sichuan” is synonymous with spicy food. It’ very famous and you can order a special “Sichuan spicy dish” from a Chinese restaurant when you are in England or in France. Yet the Sichuan spices there taste like candy floss compared to the real thing! Us foreigners, we are not very used to this kind of hot food.

Maybe the closest we have to spices in our dishes are black paper, garlic and a bit of curry. In France we have “moutarde” or mustard, a kind of paste made out of seeds comparable to the Japan’s wasabi and which is extra strong. It’s often eaten in small quantity with meat. Yet, it’s different from the dozens of pepper varieties from Xinjiang to Yunnan. Besides, in the UK and the US some exotic foods are very popular, like Indian curry of the Tex Mex cuisine. Yet all these are peanuts. They cannot really compare to a Sichuan style spicy tofu (Ma po dou fu), spicy pig tripes (fu qi fei pian) or the spicy fish soup (ma la shu zhu yu), all delicious, but deadly for the non-trained foreign tongues.

If like me, before coming to China foreigners have never tried it before, it’s then a mouth torture. For us spice neophytes, hot spices fries our brain, upset our stomach and wet our socks. That was my first experience to spicy food upon arriving in China two years ago. No rice, water or beer can extinguish this fire. The only remedy I found so far was to drink coconut milk. It offers an instant relief. So when you invite foreign friends to a spicy food restaurant, always prepare some spare coconut milk for them.

Foreigners aren’t used to spice, but some can stand it. Until they reach a threshold, and when it tastes very spicy for them, it might be just mildly spicy for some Chinese. Eating spice is in fact a question of practice. From childhood some Chinese, Indian or Thai people get used to a large amount of spices in their food. The more they eat the less they feel it, the same cannot be said for Westerners.

I then realized that despite the fact that many Chinese people smoke, the first national addiction isn’t tobacco but probably spicy food. I have a female friend. Let’s call her Laba. She’s from Kunming, Yunnan. She’s twenty something and her hobby is spices. She always asks her Yunnan folks to send bags of spice (seasoned ground red pepper) to her Shanghai’s home. The last parcel contained more than one hundred of these little bags of fire. It would merely last for two months she told me! She is indeed a spice queen.

Sometimes, when I cook French dishes for friends, they don’t bother to taste the real thing, like Laba, they just add tons of hot spices. They might find it’s too light or to plain. A shame, French dishes are also very delicious. Yet my friend’s French plate must taste like a Sichuan dish.

For Laba, no matter where she goes, she’ll take her little bags of spices with her. She claims she cannot do without it; even if it gives her pimples she needs it. She told me it was like a drug. True, in fact the more spice she eats, the more her mouth and her taste buds are accustomed to spice. So to get the spicy feeling, she always needs more. It’s the “vicious spice circle”. The spicy feeling on the tongue must be very exciting; it must make her feel like she lives dangerously.

But it’s not good for boyfriends, for it’s hard to bear a spicy kiss. Besides, spice food doesn’t give good breath. At all. My friend Laba doesn’t have a boyfriend. She has two dogs. So that solves the problem. She can eat spice as much as she wants.
Yet I wonder, one day, if she goes to a foreign country where there are no spices, what would she do? She’ll be craving after a couple of days. Would she smuggle tons of spice to this country? Would she try some substitutes to titillate her taste buds, like these acid little lemon-flavored candies? Or would she get a sweet tooth and start eating very sweet things? I hope her skin problem will get better though and she could start dating one day.

China Youth Daily

(c) China Youth Daily/Thomas Podvin
August 2006

This column is a part of a monthly contribution to the national daily China Youth Daily. It was published on March 28, 2006 and in the China Youth Daily Website. Originally written in English, it was translated into simplified Chinese by Joy Shao Jie.

English version:

Being romantic is a very blur concept, related to love and sexual desire. We usually believed some people are more romantic than others, like French or Italian. What about China? Are Chinese people romantic?

A question of perspective
One day, I saw a wedding ceremony in the garden of a posh Shanghai hotel. The Chinese bride wore a magnificent virginal western gown and was holding the arm of the Chinese groom in tuxedo. In the background, we could hear a French song called "Helene, Je m'appelle Helene" by Helene Rolles. It surely is a hit in China, as we keep hearing it anywhere. Many Chinese probably think it sounds romantic and perfect for the wedding. For any francophone, however, it hardly sounds romantic but probably cheesy, schmaltzy, sad and hopeless. Basically the song talks about a lonely girl longing for love and desperate to be taken for whom she is. The point is being romantic is a question of individual viewpoint as well as of cultural perspective. What is romantic for Chinese won't necessarily be romantic for French or British. Everybody in China sees Paris as the world capital of romanticism for instance. But what's really romantic about Paris? Ask a Parisian and he won't be able to answer.

Gesture of love
Everybody cherishes different ideas of romanticism, love and desirability. In the streets of China, love and romanticism are hardly perceptible. Men and women holding hands in public can be considered as bold in a society known for being prude. Chinese couples would hold hands as an indication of commitment whereas in the West, it's simply a sign of deep affection but not necessarily a pledge for long-lasting love.

In some places very much influenced by the West (in some chic districts of Shanghai for instance), you might as well spot two Chinese lovers intensively kissing and hugging. This sight is casual for foreigners, as love and affection are more openly expressed in western countries where girls are emancipated at an early age, men bolder to seduce them, and the sexual revolution took place decades ago. As a foreigner, I can see that the Chinese society has evolved rapidly; in two decades traditional morals have been diluted into global morals. Some women on street have adopted the western fashion; they wear tighter cloths and sometimes short skirts to appear more seductive. In another hand, men are bolder to show their feelings in public. Younger generations are more prone to follow the social behaviors of the Western world.

In subway stations and city centers I was half surprised to see so many advertisement posters for foreign designer underwear with models in sensual poses exposing a great deal of flesh. The ads aim at local customers already open to an occidental vision of love and sex. A bra isn't only an undergarment, but a seduction tool. But these models are all Westerners; you cannot expect too much too quickly. Chinese cannot see yet their peers showing some extra bits of skin in public. People unconsciously tend to stick to an image of a pure Chinese girl who perhaps should be asexualized, or at least never be the object of sexual desire.

But what you see is probably the tip of the iceberg. A female Hong-Kong filmmaker who's lived in New York once told me that American women are proud to be considered as sexy sometimes free-spirited or libertine. But when it comes to act they¡¯re in fact very much prudish. On the contrary, Chinese women are discreet and hide their sex appeal, but can become wild romantic partners. The TV-series "I Am Really Desperate for Love," a Chinese equivalent of "Sex and the City" directed by Liu Xin Gang offers a fair example of what modern Chinese women are capable of.

Gesture from the heart
More and more Chinese tend to adopt the Western conception of romanticism. Valentine's Day has been fashionable in Shanghai lately. It's a European Christian holiday to exchange tokens of affection. But do you only think of your partner on February 14th (or for qi xi)? Is it really romantic? As a Frenchman I think it's not so original to do as many other people do, like buying flowers and chocolate on Valentine's Day. You can celebrate your love any other day of the year. If one hasn't taken care of his lover the remaining 364 days of the year, chocolate and flowers are more indications of guilt than tokens of love.

Love should fuel the imagination: Partners ought to be creative to find a genuine gesture from the bottom of the heart. Being romantic is also being original. It's to offer something unique to be cherished by the other. Romanticism is an unselfish expression of the heart to prove your feelings to the other. This is also what Love is all about.

China Youth Daily

(c) China Youth Daily/Thomas Podvin
March 28, 2006

Cent ans après sa création, le cinéma chinois tire son épingle du jeu

Cette année, le cinéma chinois a fêté son centième anniversaire. L’industrie cinématographique a connu des hauts et des bas au cours de son siècle d’existence. Des bas avec l’invasion japonaise dans les années 1940 qui a considérablement diminué le nombre de productions, ou la « révolution culturelle » dans les année 1960-1970 pendant lesquelles bon nombre de studios étaient en « pause ».

Après cette période tumultueuse pour le septième art, l’Académie Cinématographique de Pékin a ré-ouvert ses portes en 1978 accueillant des étudiants pour la première fois depuis 10 ans. Et quels étudiants ! On compte parmi eux Zhang Yimou et Chen Kaige. Cette promotion est aujourd’hui connue comme la « cinquième génération ».

Ce sont ces réalisateurs qui dans les années 90 ont permis au cinéma chinois de traverser les frontières et de recevoir les récompenses les plus illustres. On pense à ces premiers films montrés à l’Ouest, Adieu, ma concubine de Chen Kaige qui reçu la palme d’or en 1993 à Cannes, ou Épouses et concubines de Zhang Yimou auréolé par la critique internationale.

Cette dernière décennie a en effet était favorable au cinéma chinois et à ses réalisateurs. Sa créativité et réactivité ont attiré bon nombre d’investisseurs d’Asie et d’occident. Ce qui a permis de produire de meilleurs films, plus internationaux et donc de séduire un nombre plus large de spectateurs.

Si les films de Chine continentale sont particulièrement appréciés pour leur peinture judicieuse de la société chinoise, ceux de Hong-Kong attirent le spectateur grâce aux arts martiaux et scènes d’action spectaculaires. Ces films étaient auparavant distribuées dans un nombre de salle restreint, principalement dans les Chinatown, et n’ont jamais réellement atteint une distribution grand public.

La vitalité du cinéma de HongKong a cependant montré des signes d’essoufflement dans les années 1990, et notamment suite à la rétrocession de l’île à la Chine en 1997. Ce qui est surprenant de constater est que cette diminution de la productivité (de 200 films/ans à environ 60 films/an) a eu un impact positif et conséquent sur les relations entre les trois principaux centres cinématographiques, Shanghai, Pékin et Hong-Kong.

On a commencé à s’unir pour produire des films bénéficiant l’industrie entière, avec une qualité hollywoodienne comme Kung-Fu Hustle de Stephen Chow ou Seven Swords de Tsui Hark.

Ce dynamisme n’est évidemment pas resté sans réponse à l’Ouest et Hollywood a tenté de recruter des acteurs, réalisateurs et techniciens confirmés pour des projets américains. Michelle Yeoh et Zhang Ziyi ont terminé Memoirs of a Geisha à Los Angeles, Gong Li travaille sur une séquelle du Silence des agneaux appelé Lector Variation.

Ce succès et cette qualité de production croissante ont aussi donné suite à des co-productions Est/Ouest et autres deals de distribution avec Columbia Tristar-Asia ou Miramax. En 2000, Ang Lee réalise son Tigre et Dragon, révélant au monde, et avec succès, le premier film de sabre chinois (wuxiapian) « internationale ». Zhang Yimou suivra plus tard avec Hero, puis Le Secret des poignards volants.

Ces films, qui ont rencontré un succès planétaire, prouvent que si goût et passion sont de mise, une histoire typiquement chinoise peut traverser toutes les frontières.

(c) Shanghai Scene
Chief editor: Dave Taylor
November 2005 issue

Shanghai, PRC, monthly
Lifestyle magazine
Art, food, fashion, entertainment, travel


Pages: 66
Managing Editor: Dave Taylor
Publisher: Wu Weihua, Yvonne Zhang, Joe Zhou
Distribution copies: 20,000 copies
Description: A monthly lifestyle magazine targetting the rich expatriates and travellers to China.

My contribution (monthly):
-column: (in French) 500-600 words

Contact:
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8 Fuyou Rd, Suite 6G
200010 Shanghai, PRC
(86) 21 63306627
editors@sceneshanghai.com
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Find all Shanghai Scene articles

Zhouzhuang, « première ville d’eau en Chine », accueille aujourd’hui plus de 2,5 millions de touristes par an alors qu’elle était absente des dépliants touristiques il y a 25 ans.

Il est maintenant commun de lire dans ces dépliants que si l’on veut s’écarter un peu des tumultes de la vie citadine, il y a plusieurs solutions qui s’offrent à nous ; que Zhouzhuang est la plus évidente. Que la ville, à 100 Km de Shanghai, est plus pittoresque que Suzhou et moins urbanisée que Hangzhou. Qu’une peinture, du célèbre peintre chinois, Chen Yifei, offerte à Deng Xiaoping contribua à sa renommée. Que la ville contient plus d’une centaine de cours intérieures, de petits ponts de pierres et de passages voûtés datant des dynasties Yuan, Ming et Qing. Qu’elle est appelée la Venise de l’Orient ; car comparable à la ville des amoureux en Italie elle est tailladée par de nombreux canaux, et les transports s’y font en barques et bateaux à moteur. Qu’on n’a rien vu en Chine si on n’a pas visité Zhouzhuang.

Ce qu’on omet de mentionner, c’est que la ville est un exemple de développement économique et touristique, soutenu par son patrimoine historique et architectural, une situation géographique avantageuse et des ressources exceptionnelles. La ville, connectée au grand canal Beijing-Hangzhou, est comme un lotus sur l’eau belle et fragile à la fois. Pour développer le tourisme et l’industrie tout en gardant un environnement propre, on a marché sur des œufs.

Au milieu des années 1980, une population et une activité touristique toujours plus croissante ont exercé une forte pression sur l’équilibre trop fragile des systèmes aquatiques. Ce qui valu à la ville de perdre sa chance d’être inscrite sur la Liste du patrimoine mondial de l’UNESCO en 1997. « Une ville d’eau sans eau propre » fut la principale raison de cette déconvenue. Etudes et travaux se succédèrent pour rétablir une qualité d’eau correcte. Pari risqué et difficile à gagner. Il ne fallait ni perturber les habitants et touristes ni toucher aux fragiles constructions centenaires.

Les touristes qui vinrent en nombre dans ce nouveau paradis propre subirent à leur tour une pression commerciale intense. Pour y remédier, l’office du tourisme décida de déplacer 60% des commerces et industries de loisirs hors du centre de la vieille ville.

Non seulement Zhouzhuang a développé son tourisme avec succès, mais a également favorisé une économie capable d’attirer des investissements étrangers. La zone industrielle et scientifique du CGS Kunshan, véritable Silicon Valley, exploite la high-tech. L’aire de loisir de Taishidian étend la zone touristique de la vieille ville sur 6 Km2. Enfin, la zone d’agriculture moderne met en valeur les terres et eaux fertiles.

Zhouzhuang est un lieu historique, une réussite industrielle mais aussi culturelle. Cerise sur le gâteau, c’est aussi la ville du cinéma. 60 films furent tournés dans ce décor naturel. En 2001, le réalisateur hongkongais Yim Ho tourna Pavilion of Women, une histoire d’amour dans la Chine des années 1930, avec Willem Dafoe et Yan Luo.


(c) Shanghai Scene
Chief editor: Adam Bradford
October 2005 issue

Après la guerre de l’opium Shanghai est devenue un port stratégique en Chine et en Asie. Les occidentaux y installent des comptoirs et aident au développement du petit port en métropole puissante.
En 1849, la concession française est officiellement établie. Après la révolution de 1911, la seconde guerre mondiale, l’occupation japonaise et la libération par les nationalistes, un traité sino-français scelle la fin de la concession en 1946.
Pendant près d’un siècle, l’enclave française, de concert avec la concession internationale, montrera l’exemple d’une modernisation urbaine, avec des travaux de voirie et d’urbanisme (financés par les fumeries d’opium et salles de jeu). Mais elle contribuera aussi à créer ce style local unique, un mélange d’architecture occidental et chinois.
Que reste-il aujourd’hui de l’ancienne concession ? Un résidu d’histoire, des allées de platanes, des reliques architecturales et des façades art déco ? La concession française était limitée au nord par la Rue Ratard (Julu Lu) au sud par la Route Hervé de Sieyès (Yongjia Lu). La voie principale, Huaihai Zhong Lu (Avenue Joffre) est aujourd’hui une rue commerçante très en vogue tandis qu’Henshan Lu (Avenue Pétain) abrite encore des appartements luxueux.
Au nord, l'ancien Cercle sportif français, Rue du Cardinal Mercier (Maoming Lu), constitue désormais l’entrée du somptueux Hôtel japonais Okura Garden. Dans les années 20, c’est dans ces jardins qu’on jouait à la pétanque. Au lendemain de la révolution le club devint le «palais du peuple».
Un milliardaire de Hongkong, Vincent Lau, rénova un quartier des « shikumen » (maisons construites fin XIXème pour héberger la classe moyenne chinoise dans la concession), et en fit le quartier le plus chic de la ville : Xintiandi, Fuxing Zhong Lu (Rue La Fayette). Désormais remplacé par de vagues répliques de « shikumen », Xintiandi abrite des bars, boutiques et restaurants de luxe.
Les démolitions successives ont échaudé les artistes locaux qui ont toujours connu la « Frenchtown ». Effectivement, la moitié des constructions existantes en 1949, dont 39 bâtiments supposés protégés, furent rasées. Et la destruction continue. Léon Cheng, réalisateur-écrivain, intègre le plus possible à son oeuvre l’architecture de la concession dans un souci de conservation de l’éphémérité du lieu.
Le dernier film de la réalisatrice Peng Xiaolang, Shanghai Story (présenté à Cannes en 2005), fut tourné dans un immeuble du quartier.
Deke Erh, un photographe/journaliste de Shanghai, et l’Américaine Tess Johnston ont publié plusieurs livres sur la vieille ville et la concession française, alertant les pouvoirs publics des dangers d’un manque de rénovation de ce qui n’a pas été détruit. Après avoir obtenu gain de cause, la situation semble être pire : “Shanghai n’est pas encore à même de faire ce type de travail, merci de stopper les rénovations!” proteste Johnston.
Le danger est imminent et tangible, ces artistes ont soufferts directement des destructions et reconstructions à outrance. Deke et Johnston ont déménagé plusieurs fois pour céder la place. Peng a imprimé à jamais sur pellicule les derniers instants de l’immeuble du tournage détruit après la production du film.


(c) Shanghai Scene
Chief editor: Dave Taylor
September 2005 issue

French fashion-design houses have always been ruled by strong-minded and creative individuals including Coco Chanel, Jean-Paul Gaultier, Karl Lagerfeld and the likes. Nelly Biche de Bere is no exception and may soon find her name among this prestigious list. Combining artistic aptitude and a strong entrepreneurship spirit, Biche de Bere's designs are creating an international roar that is currently rumbling through the Middle Kingdom.

"China is a bit like the US 30 years ago" says Biche de Bere. "At that time, there was this same kind of energy, which I find here to be 10 times stronger." In 2003, she set up a fashion boutique in Shanghai and a workshop in Xinzhuang. "I always have been fascinated by Shanghai. There is an incredible energy."

Biche de Bere's own energy has been her primary strength in making a name for herself. After 10 years in the US and another 10 in Europe to develop her business, Biche de Bere is now in Asia for yet another decade, with Shanghai as her headquarters. Her company has set a foot in four continents and reports a current world-sales turnover of US$19 millions. In late 2004, she received the Pierre Cardin "Best French Designer in China" award in Beijing and currently dresses Chinese stars Mimi Sun, Anna Wang, Lu Yi and Jane Zhang. For another feather in her oh-so-fashionable cap, this year the French business magazine L'Expansion named Biche de Bere one of France's five most influential business owners.

"She is full of energy" says Shanghai-based communication assistant Vivian Dong. "[Biche de Bere] is a woman with a strong character, if she has a goal, she will simply do it."
But achievement isn't possible without a tad of luck and loads of talent and ambition. After graduation, Biche de Bere left France for New York to pursue the American dream. Already pragmatic and business orientated, Biche de Bere sold her "anti-atomic shelters" thesis to the France Ministry of Defense to finance her departure in 1985. She fought her way up the New York fashion ladder by creating evening jewelry from recycled materials, which led to a surprise 30,000 piece order and a full-time career.

Returning to Europe in 1993 with her husband and associate Christophe Cais, she launched the Biche de Bere Company, specializing in jewelry and ready-to-wear collections for women. They've since diversified into kids, men and couture lines, as well as sportswear, house linens and general design. The company currently employs 350 personal, owns two factories in France and delivers 15 collections a year. This is what you'd call productive, creative and successful. Born in Brittany, a French region where traditions are highly valued, Biche de Bere graduated in industrial design. This influence is clearly seen in her creations which combine traditional style with modern techniques. Such concepts have successfully attracted American and European women in the past and are whipping Chinese into a frenzy since the move to Shanghai a year and a half ago. "I am fascinated by China, because it is a place so different, with a huge history" she says. "But despite this, the country has a strong desire to come into the third millennium at full speed."

Dressing women of the new millennium - to enhance each female's individuality - is her prime motivation. "There is certainly a common point between all women," explains Biche de Bere. "They want to feel pretty, to satisfy themselves and others when dressing." But the Biche de Bere brand aims to take fashion past the basics by using unique fabric, color and style combinations, leading to their motto: "Difference is that wonderful thing that we all have in common."

Weekly cocktail parties are held every Friday at the Xintiandi boutique, among displays of Biche de Bere's new collections. For those not lucky enough to live in mainland China's fashion mecca, check out Biche de Bere's line at www.bichedebere.com.

(c) City Weekend, national edition
Editor: Lydia Holden
Photo courtesy Biche de Bere
September 1-15, 2005 issue