How Han Bing Captures the Anonymous Poetry of Urban Landscapes

As China’s stature in the world of contemporary art has grown, the international journeys made by its artists have also evolved. Many of the pioneering artists who got a chance to study overseas in the 1980s put down roots in their newly adopted homes, at least for a few years. Meanwhile, other artists honed their practices inside China, only starting to travel abroad as international exhibition opportunities grew from the 1990s onwards. Artists like Han Bing (b. 1986, Shandong province), on the other hand, represent a new, more mobile generation: one that confidently moves and works in between East and West. Nor is time spent overseas simply a brief sojourn without much impact on their art — in the case of Han, her approach to painting has been deeply shaped by the visual culture of each of the cities she has lived in.


Han undertook her undergraduate studies at the Central Academy of Fine Arts in Beijing, before obtaining an MFA at Parsons School of Design in New York. After her time in New York, she lived and worked between Los Angeles and Shanghai, before relocating to Paris, her current home base. She channels these vibrant cosmopolitan metropolises’ constantly evolving urban landscapes into her paintings, creating work that she has called “organic”: often abstracted, yet also hinting at figurative forms or depicting human faces and figures.


Han Bing Broome IV

Broome IV, 2018. Image courtesy the artist and Night Gallery, Los Angeles. East West Bank Collection.


For example, the ripped posters that are pasted and then carelessly removed from subway stations, walls, and temporary façades are a reoccurring motif in her practice. Looking out for these unintentional, anonymous compositions, she then carefully recreates and reimagines their torn edges and layers of unexpected juxtaposition using materials like oil stick and spray paint. The resulting pieces can be quite large, reaching heights of up to two meters as Han revels in the poetry of alien textures and graffiti-like scribbles. As the artist has commented, “I’ve always been very taken by the fragility and ephemerality of certain compositions that I encounter on the street. They’re there and invisible to some, but the moment I discover them, they are mine.”


Elsewhere, Han takes a different approach to bring everyday reality into her works. For smaller pieces, she sometimes directly paints on pages taken from newspapers and magazines. In Sutra X and Sutra XIV (both 2023), blotches of color cover images and text from The New York Times. Sometimes fungus-like, the acrylic paint both contrasts and resonates with the underlying color schemes. The addition of a collage element brings a sense of time and place rarely found in abstract painting to these compelling compositions. Though Han doesn’t necessarily choose to paint over the biggest news stories, her use of found materials gives a sense of the context in which these pieces were made, echoing how her larger paintings offer unexpected snapshots of cityscapes in flux.


Han Bing portrait

Han Bing. Photograph by Charles Duprat, courtesy Thaddaeus Ropac, London · Paris · Salzburg · Seoul.


However, the painter’s influences stretch beyond news media and the scenes she encounters on city streets, reaching into theater, science, and literature. Works in “A Labile Boundary at Best,” a 2020 exhibition at Antenna Space in Shanghai, also spoke to her interest in frescoes. These murals have decayed and fragmented since the Renaissance, creating compositions defined by absence — much like Han’s poster-inspired paintings. More recently, forms reminiscent of classical European architecture have surfaced in her work, from the pavilion of An apartment (2022) to the vaulted seating sections of a theater in A Very Lucky Man’s Melancholy (2023). As Han continues to work from Paris, it will be fascinating to observe how she transforms new influences gleaned there into captivating, globally-minded art that blurs the distinction between abstraction and representation.


Banner image shows installation view of “Han Bing: territory to be tamed,” Night Gallery, 2018. Courtesy Night Gallery.



Chinese High School Seniors Celebrate Completing the Gaokao with Makeovers

After this year’s gaokao (China’s notoriously difficult college entrance exam), which took place on June 7th and 8th, many high school seniors have been enjoying a well-deserved break from intense study. Their first stop for some relaxation? For many, beauty salons.


Due to their busy schedules as well as school policies, many high school students in China don’t have a chance to experiment with their style or appearance, for example by changing their hair color and trying out different nail art. Finishing the gaokao hence is not only a significant milestone in students’ academic paths, but also an opportunity for them to change their looks.


On Xiaohongshu, the hashtag “Having a Great Transformation after the Gaokao” (#高考完了来一场巨大的爆改) has started to trend, with current high school students and older graduates sharing their post-test makeover experiences.


“[After the gaokao] the desire to become beautiful that I had suppressed in high school exploded instantly. After the college entrance examination, I immediately started a huge makeover from scratch,” posted Qijiang (琦酱), a high school senior from Sichuan Province. She posted her first-ever vlog right after the gaokao, documenting her experience with manicures, eyebrow tattoos, and hair dye. The video has received 1,400 likes so far.


“After finishing the college entrance examination, I didn’t have the excitement and sense of freedom I imagined. Instead, it felt more like a trance or dream-like state. How has my senior year of high school already ended?” she further shared in another post. “But the fact is that we have indeed gone through and completed a very important journey in life, and we will definitely grow and meet a better version of ourselves.”


In a survey following her post, 513 of 709 participants indicated a similar willingness to transform themselves after the gaokao.


However, some voices of disagreement also emerged.


In one post, which received around 6,000 upvotes, a Xiaohongshu user complained that the trend of makeovers essentially pressured the next generation of women into beauty practices, which, as argued by feminist Sheila Jeffreys in her book Beauty and Misogyny, are a significant aspect of women’s oppression rather than a reflection of individual female choice or creative expression.


“Studying for years is hard enough. Do these recent graduates mean to keep making it hard? Although I haven’t entirely left beauty practices behind, it is undeniable that maintaining beauty is very hard and tiring,” the user commented.


Despite the occasional disapproving comment, the common view online nevertheless remained that it was natural for people to transform themselves after suppressing their desire to do so for so long.


“Disenchantment stems from previous experiences. You have to go through it and feel it. When you feel uncomfortable, you will naturally abandon it,” another netizen commented, receiving around 4,700 upvotes.


Aside from beauty transformations, many graduating high schoolers are making travel plans or looking for part-time jobs for the summer.


Banner image via Yyyocheved on Xiaohongshu.

Blokette Meets Anime-inspired Styles in China

Blokette (a portmanteau of Blokecore and Coquette), known as Shaonüyundongfeng (少女运动风) in Chinese, is the combination of hyper-feminine clothing with more typically masculine pieces that often find their origins in British lad culture and American streetwear. A classic example of the style would be the combination of a football shirt with a mini-skirt. Coined as a term by the podcast Nymphet Alumni in 2022, blokette has been celebrated in the West as a style that encourages an open approach towards gender identity. And since the beginning of this year, the trend has been attracting attention in the Chinese mainland, with fashion aficionados embracing its casualness and potential for self-expression.


In China, blokette has found unexpected synergy with the ACG (Animation, Comics, and Games) subculture, which is local to Greater China but rooted in fandom for Japanese cultural production. ACG-inspired clothing such as the “JK uniform” (JK制服), a pastiche of Japanese high school uniforms for girls, is a massive hit with Chinese Gen Zers. A typical ACG outfit would feature high socks or stockings with a mini-skirt, paired with a traditionally more masculine blazer or sailor uniform on top.


A Classic JK Uniform

A classic JK Uniform look. Image via The Paper.


In spite of emerging from different cultural contexts, blokette and ACG fashion share key similarities, both mixing feminine and masculine within women’s fashion. However, before blokette’s arrival in China, the two styles had not interacted extensively. There are obvious visual similarities between the two looks, and their collision could be an opportunity for China to create something even more aesthetically innovative. As China’s streetwear scene grows, this might be the beginning of a uniquely Chinese, yet global, urban fashion trend.


Banner image by Haedi Yue.

The New Documentary “The Bridge” Highlights East West Bank’s Role in the Asian American Community

Directed by Evan Leong, the 2024 documentary The Bridge tells the history and growth of the Asian American and Pacific Islander (AAPI) community through the lens of East West Bank, a financial institution established in 1973 by leaders in the Los Angeles Chinatown to serve Asian Americans neglected by mainstream banks. The film takes us through various pivotal moments for the Asian American community over the past 50 years. It shows how East West Bank has made a difference on a local and international scale, serving the community while forming a closer bond and deeper understanding between East and West.



Released in May as part of Asian Pacific American Heritage Month, The Bridge explores the multiple personal truths of generations of Asian Americans. It highlights the struggles, but also the successes, of individuals and communities in face of these challenges, whether they be lack of legal banking available to Asian immigrants in the 1960s, or the rise of anti-Asian hate in today’s post-pandemic era.


The documentary also features a collaboration between award-winning musical artists JJ Lin and Anderson .Paak. Their new single “In the Joy,” a great example of East-West musical collaboration, serves as the film’s theme song.



The Bridge is now streaming on Apple TV, Google Play, and Amazon Prime.


Banner image via The Bridge.

4 Chinese Streetwear Brands to Check Out in Shanghai

Over the past decade or so, the Chinese streetwear scene has blossomed into its own, with local designers starting labels to bring their vision to a scene once dominated by overseas brands. And consumers are into it.


The roots of street fashion in China and Shanghai run at least two decades deep. According to Randomevent founder and fashion expert Younker Hong, “As I recall, Flystreetwear was the earliest local streetwear brand, founded right around the turn of the millennium. Then, ACU opened its doors on Changle Lu in 2006 selling all kinds of local and imported labels. In the 2010s a bunch of Chinese brands began to emerge including ANB, MYGE, DOE, Attempt, Roaringwild and, also, [my brand] Randomevent.”


More recently, as trends like guochao have made made-in-China cool again, China’s younger generations have grown increasingly eager to fill their wardrobes with pieces from local labels. Here’s RADII’s guide to four (and a half!) of China’s most interesting streetwear brands, all of whose clothing you can pick up in brick and mortar stores around Shanghai:

Randomevent and Melting Sadness

Founded by Younker Hong in 2012, Randomevent is a Shanghai-based streetwear brand that has ridden the guochao wave to significant renown both in China and abroad. Hong says the brand name alludes to “an anticipation for the random events in life,” reflected in the natural, effortless look that ties the brand together.


Aside from its seasonal drops, the brand has done collaborations with a number of established fashion staples such as New Balance, Reebok, Herschel, and Gramicci. Randomevent’s appeal as a partner stems from it being “cool” and having a strong presence in the local scene, explains Hong.


According to Hong, “The inspiration for my designs comes from life. It’s the changes in my environment that most stimulate my creativity. I think the brand and our designs are expressions of emotion and aesthetics that reflect different feelings at each stage of life.”


One stage of life that seems to play a particularly big role in Randomevent’s designs is 90s and early 00s pop culture. Pieces boast an amalgamation of visual references taken from hip hop culture, the surf and skate fashion crazes of the late 90s/early 00s, and luxury houses, all done up in Randomevent’s “clean look” style and the blue-green hues that pervade Hong’s creative vision.

Running parallel to Randomevent but in a category all its own is Melting Sadness. The newer brand was created by Zhang Quan and Randomevent in 2016, based on Zhang’s art project of the same name — meant to evoke the idea of sadness melting away. Though probably best known for its apparel lines with Randomevent, the Melting Sadness universe encompasses various forms of artistic output, from sculpture to drawing and installation.


Design themes are based on Zhang Quan’s world of childlike technicolor whimsy, and are centered around a cohort of characters, the most iconic of which is Karoro — a boy in a rabbit costume.


Melting Sadness has continually played with a cute and childish sense of fun and experimented with styles that employ cartoon-like reimaginings of 70s-sitcom-esque motifs and soft, kidcore pastels. Zhang Quan’s designs also haven’t escaped the notice of international brands like Adidas, with whom he’s created Adidas Originals sneakers.


Randomevent, Melting Sadness, and the two brains behind the brands have received a significant amount of international attention from the likes of Hypebeast and Highsnobiety — and we think they deserve it.

You can find Randomevent and Melting Sadness here:


Randomevent and Slab Town Space

C Park Haisu, 618-666 Zhaohua Rd., Changning District, Shanghai


Randomevent + Melting Sadness Store

1385 Yuyuan Rd., Changning District, Shanghai

Monday Sleeping Club

Monday Sleeping Club, aka 周一睡觉俱乐部, is a boutique street fashion brand that leans into the luxury side of “lying flat” culture. And that makes sense, because Monday Sleeping Club is a newer addition to Shanghai and China’s rapidly expanding homegrown fashion scene, which opened its doors in the wake of the tangping and bailan discourse in 2022.


The vibe hits you as soon as you walk into Monday Sleeping Club’s flagship store. It’s like dropping into the soft embrace of a plush pillow. Clean designs employ a palette of muted pastels that invoke an immediate sense of dreamy nostalgia. The curvy, serifed logo only ups this factor.


Some of the designs curated by brand director Zhao Mo play with a 90s computer room aesthetic and act as a tongue-in-cheek nod to China’s now-passé shanzhai culture. The hats and shirts feature not-quite-correct versions of the classic Microsoft Windows, IBM, and Apple logos, and even the iconic Macintosh “Picasso” logo, complete with a woman sleeping head-down on the desk in front of the computer.

You can find Monday Sleeping Club here:


Monday Sleeping Club Flagship Store

72 Yanqing Rd., Xuhui District, Shanghai

Crying Center

Crying Center, China Crying Center (CCC), or simply 哭喊中心, was founded in 2017 by a collective of designers in an effort to give full expression to each member’s unique vision while obscuring the actual faces behind each release. Seasonal drops are the work of an ever-growing rotation of designers, and the brand simultaneously appeals to China’s hipster-like yabi subculture and more mainstream fashion-minded youth.


Crying Center’s stylistically promiscuous, late-capitalist-friendly aesthetic runs the gamut from the almost Carhartt-skewering workwear of the latest SS24 drop, to cyberpunk/cybergoth rave and e-kid, too cool style, then still further to incorporations of anime and children’s artwork. Some of it could almost be called anti-design: self-referential work that sometimes has literal definitions or instructions related to the creation of the garment printed on the fabric. And yet, there’s still something that makes it all unmistakably CCC.


Even though some of CCC’s looks can border on the eccentric, their plain logo tees enjoy wider popularity and aren’t a rare sight on the streets of Shanghai or other major Chinese cities.

You can find CCC and other apparel from Chinese designers here:


China Crying Center

TX Huaihai Fl. 4, 523 Huaihai Middle Rd., Xuhui District, Shanghai

GoodBai Studio

GoodBai Studio is a boutique street lifestyle fashion label founded in 2021 by Bai Jingting. According to the brand’s own “About” statement, its inspiration comes from a “passion for nature and life.” The exact look is hard to place, but it’s clean and incorporates elements of vintage preppy styles, kidcore, and wonky cartoonish fonts and drawings that all mesh together within a cute body of work.


Rather than just a flash-in-the-pan passion project for Bai, the GoodBai brand seems to be a sincere attempt to break into the fashion and lifestyle space. And whether because of Bai Jingting’s pre-existing fame or GoodBai’s own brand chops, it seems to be working. According to the “The 2023 Global Fashion IP List from Fashion Exchange and Alibaba’s CBNData, GoodBai placed second behind Fear of God for the year’s global fashion IPs. The celebrity-owned label has also had a collab with KFC.

You can find GoodBai here:


GoodBai Store

92 Yanqing Rd., Xuhui District, Shanghai


GoodBai Cafe

104 Yanqing Rd., Xuhui District, Shanghai

Shanghai’s Last Newspaper Stand to Close by End of the Year

Tucked away on Wusong Road in Hongkou District sits a relic of 20th-century Shanghai life: the city’s last remaining newspaper stand. Operated by proprietor Jiang Jun, this modest 12-square-meter space has served as a nostalgic touchstone for over three decades. However, the newsstand is now set to close at the end of the year.


Emerging in China at the beginning of the last century, newspaper stands operated under government oversight. After the establishment of the People’s Republic of China, they were incorporated into post offices, improving distribution services. In those years, newsstands played a key social role, offering citizens a place to subscribe to and collect their daily newspapers, fostering a sense of community through casual conversation.


Jiang Jun’s newsstand next to a post office. Image via WeChat.


The decline of newspaper stands in Shanghai reflects broader trends across China. Wuhan, too, is bidding farewell to its last newsstand, owned by an elderly couple and located on 111 Taipei Road. A short documentary by a film student on their newsstand gained traction on Xiaohongshu, highlighting the cultural significance of these humble stalls and the people who run them.


Factors contributing to the demise of newspaper stands are manifold, with the shift towards digital reading habits playing a pivotal role. Between 2008 and 2020, over 20,000 stands were dismantled due to the waning popularity of print media. Additionally, many stand owners have converted their spaces into snack and beverage stalls to increase profits, prompting city administrators to intervene, citing violations of municipal regulations.


The impending closure of Shanghai’s last stand has evoked a sense of nostalgia and loss among residents. Jiang’s three decades of service in some ways represent a microcosm of China’s recent economy history, moving from the dynamism of the 80s and 90s to today’s shift to an ageing society. Rising at 6 AM each day, Jiang sacrificed family time to nurture this communal gathering spot. Yet, with age catching up and no successor in sight, Jiang faces the inevitable decision to close shop. By the end of 2024, at the age of 63, Jiang will surpass China’s mandated retirement age by over three years. For the time being, people of all ages are flocking to the newspaper stand to bid farewell to this piece of cultural history, pondering what spaces might serve as community hubs in the future. Only time will unveil the answer.


Banner image via Xiaohongshu.