Arriving on his Gulfstream private jet on April 28th, Elon Musk landed in Beijing, having postponed plans for a trip to India to take care of “very heavy Tesla obligations.” Musk’s visit to China didn’t last more than 24 hours, but may prove to have a major impact on Telsa’s business around the world.
Indian Tesla fans who were highly anticipating Musk’s visit to their country may wonder why he canceled his plans at the last minute. Chinese military and political analyst Shao Yongling theorized that beyond general concerns about the investment environment in the South Asian nation, Musk may have wanted to avoid overlapping with India’s ongoing general election.
Upon landing in China, Musk dove into a discussion with Premier Li Qiang. The most heated topic was Tesla’s groundbreaking “Full Self-Driving” (FSD) software. China makes for an ideal market for Tesla’s FSD cars. As part of its “863 Project,” China has increasingly normalized the use of electric vehicles and is moving towards autonomous vehicles. It is no wonder why Musk sought to obtain permission to launch his FSD software in China and utilize data obtained in China for abroad.
As part of his strategy to garner Chinese interest in his businesses, Musk announced, “If I have many Chinese fans, then the feelings are mutual. I am a super fan of China.” Chinese netizens have welcomed him and expressed their hopes that he would visit the 2024 Beijing International Automotive Exhibition. However, others criticized China’s embrace of Musk and what they saw as his superficial attempts to gain business in China. Nonetheless, Musk’s visit to China proved to be a success. On April 29th, Tesla’s stock price rose by 15% with a stock price of $194.05 as he concluded his trip to China. The market value of the corporate giant now stands at $615.8 billion. However, in light of falling Tesla sales in the first quarter of 2024, Musk still plans to cut 10% of the company’s global workforce.
Ever shared some snacks with friends on a blanket in a park? Or taken a sandwich on a hike? Well, without realizing it you’ve participated in one of the latest trends for Chinese youth, complete with its own new name: “wildeat.” But whether the hashtag is just giving picnics a Xiaohongshu makeover or offering an entirely new way to connect food and nature remains to be seen.
The new concept involves consuming food in natural settings. Some Xiaohongshu influencers say they’re aiming to reconnect with the wild state of early human ancestors by using unaltered ingredients and simple tools like branches and hands. However, for others, “wildeat” is simply about having a picnic in a natural setting. No matter what their approach, netizens feel that “wildeats” provide a sense of freedom and relaxation.
On Xiaohongshu, posts tagged with “wildeat” have garnered over 39 million views, with thousands of users engaging with the topic. A post about staying overnight at a rest area in an RV received around 13,000 likes, while a typical post about going to Moganshan (a hill getaway not far from Shanghai) with a pet also gathered over 3,000 likes.
Image via Red 美美酱是只赛博猪.
For many, a “wildeat” offers a temporary escape from urban life, relieving them from anxiety and pressure.
One Xiaohongshu user shared, “I used to feel pressured by the delicate lifestyles portrayed online. As an ordinary person, I’m tempted to follow trends, but since discovering wildeat, I’ve found joy in life’s simplicity. For those who don’t understand this happiness, you’re missing out.”
A Xiaohongshu user with the account name Cici. [sic] raved about her “wildeat” experience at a local park, writing, “Just spending 20 minutes doing nothing at the park made me very happy! I enjoyed eating chestnut toast at dawn, reading, and forgetting all my worries. That’s my date with Earth.” The simple post received 110,000 likes.
Readers following Chinese Gen Z slang might be reminded of “citywalk,” a Chinglish term that describes exploring a city on foot, which went viral early in 2023. The two lifestyle concepts speak in different ways to the younger generation’s desire to slow down and relax, as well as avoid certain kinds of conspicuous consumption.
However, not everyone has embraced the new concept, which like “citywalk” uses an awkward portmanteau to describe an activity that could be easily captured by pre-existing English terms.
As one Weibo user commented, “Creating words like ‘citywalk’ and ‘wildeat’ may indicate a desire to be unconventional and innovative but it simply reflects a lack of cultural literacy.”
Sports are growing more popular with Chinese white-collar workers, but perhaps not how you would expect — they are neither sitting down to watch the World Cup, nor shooting hoops in pick-up basketball. According to the 2024 Douyin Sport Trend Report, a collaboration between CBN Data and Ocean Engine, 2023 witnessed a substantial increase of 38% in the average monthly engagement within Douyin live streams dedicated to the purchase of sport-related goods. This surge encompasses a wide array of products, ranging from apparel and equipment to event tickets and classes, all reflecting a growing enthusiasm for sports-related consumption among Chinese consumers.
In addition to mainstream sporting events, high-income white-collar workers in major cities are showing a growing interest in niche sports. Activities such as indoor rock climbing, skateboarding, and flying disk sports like ultimate frisbee are gaining popularity among urban professionals, offering a departure from traditional leisure pursuits.
One significant driving force is the desire for novel experiences among Chinese white-collar workers, who seek unconventional ways to unwind from demanding work schedules. These innovative sports offer adventure and physical challenge, breaking the monotony of daily life and fostering community. Take ultimate frisbee for instance, which has minimal physical contact, breaks gender boundaries, and can enhance social connections. According to 2022 research by 36Kr, over 60% of frisbee players surveyed cited making new friends as their main goal.
Cultural influences, amplified by platforms like Xiaohongshu and Douyin, glamorize these activities as symbols of modern lifestyles and identities. Jia Ling’s recent hit film YOLO, for which the actress/director lost weight through boxing, resonated with viewers. Young white-collar women have signed up for boxing classes not only for the health benefits, but also due to ideas of persistence and empowerment represented by the sport.
Ultimately, the rise of niche sports among Chinese white-collar workers reflects a broader cultural shift towards a more dynamic and adventurous lifestyle. As these activities continue to gain traction, they represent more than just passing fads —they embody a fundamental change in how urban professionals choose to spend their leisure time, seeking fulfillment through physical challenges, community, and the pursuit of new experiences.
For many young Chinese drifters and dreamers, Jingdezhen, a small city in Jiangxi province known for its porcelain industry, is practically utopia. Often called the porcelain capital, it is a city built upon the relics of history and art, centered on a yearning for freedom and the search for a laid-back lifestyle. Young people have relocated from big cities like Beijing and Guangzhou to the ceramics hub, shedding their old selves to build something new. They call themselves “Jing Drifters,” emulating the term “Beijing Drifters” (北漂, Bei Piao), which refers to young people who head to the national capital for professional opportunities. Yet, instead of moving to an economic powerhouse, they’re doing the precise opposite.
Located in Jingdezhen’s East City Area, Sculpture Factory is a porcelain arts district where
tranquility reigns. Newly opened cafés, graffiti walls, ceramic workshops, designer ceramic stores, and street vendors selling porcelain products have replaced the historic porcelain-production center, dotting the tree-lined streets. The soft afternoon sunshine filters through the lush trees, casting a gentle glow on porcelain vendors and the wandering tourists who have come here for a peaceful getaway.
Tourists take photos of a graffiti mural at Sculpture Factory.
To many, discarding a full-time job at age 30 would seem like an extreme decision. But to Meng Meng, who quit a corporate job and opened a café in Sculpture Factory to reconnect with her true self, it was a necessity. For five years, she worked in internet marketing in Beijing. Overtime became the norm, leaving her nerves perpetually on edge, as she stood ready around the clock for any emergency work demands. As she approached 30, anxiety over her age ate her up. In China, once you’re past 30, it can be hard to make a career breakthrough. She recalls how the mental stress accumulated, and finally manifested in physical symptoms: her limbs would go numb when dealing with work.
Street vendors selling ceramic products in Sculpture Factory.
Now, in her café, leaning against the window facing the outdoor ground through Sculpture Factory, she greeted the passerby with a warm “Hi,” her short, bleached blonde hair gleaming in the sunlight. Located down an alley in Sculpture Factory and housed in a renovated old brick bungalow, the café has become a landmark that draws a steady stream of tourists. People come by the café to chitchat, pet her dog McDull, and take photos outside, where a rainbow flag hangs against the green bungalow wall.
Meng Meng leans against the window at her café.
Like many Jing Drifters, before moving here Meng Meng had heard life was different in Jingdezhen. With low-rise buildings and no skyscrapers, the city, positioned at 199th place out of 291 Chinese cities in terms of economic competitiveness, presents a clear difference from major cities such as Beijing and Shanghai. In recent years, this city has emerged as a haven for free spirits. The atmosphere is brimming with artistic energy, enabled by low rents. The sluggish economy infuses the city with a slow rhythm of life, soothing artists, ceramic enthusiasts, and other young Chinese exhausted from fierce competition at work — that is, if they’re lucky enough to have a job amidst record-high unemployment. As Meng Meng has learned, to live here is to rediscover the romance in life.
“In big cities, age determines your future. But here, no one cares about how old you are. Everyone at any age lives a life that makes the most sense to them. Everyone has their unique stories. Every time I talk to new people, I see a different world,” Meng Meng said, emphasizing the inclusivity and acceptance she has found in Jingdezhen.
Sculpture Factory has become a popular spot for tourists to take photos.
Over the past few years, Jingdezhen has exploded on Chinese social media platforms like Xiaohongshu. Viral posts like “No one could leave Jingdezhen empty-handed” and “All I want is to play with clay in Jingdezhen” point to the delicate handmade ceramic products and ceramic-making classes that draw tourists to the city. According to Jiangxi Department of Culture and Tourism, over 8 million touristsvisited Jingdezhen during China’s week-long National Day holiday in 2023, and in a city of 417,687 there are over 30,000 Jing Drifters. However, this influx of newcomers has caused local prices to rise, increasingly pricing out long-standing residents.
Dali in Yunnan province is another tourist destination that is getting more and more popular with urban youth looking for an escape. While the main draws there are unspoiled nature and breathtaking landscapes, Jingdezhen captivates outsiders with its rich tapestry of culture and the arts. People have realized that coolness permeates this small yet vibrant city, where it’s easy to get lost in Instagram-worthy cafés, ceramic museums, shops selling porcelain souvenirs, and creative communities like Sanbao Ceramic Village, a center for international ceramicists, studios, galleries, and workshops.
In 2022 RADII visited Jingdezhen to learn about how technology was revitalizing traditional ceramic-making in the city.
“In Jingdezhen, you can just be yourself. No matter what you wear, people won’t judge,” says Yongyi Tan, a 32-year-old illustrator who moved to Jingdezhen from Guangzhou in 2023.
Tan stood beside shelves of glassware in her glass-making workshop. To her, making glassware leads her into a trance, allowing her to immerse herself in the process of creation. She first came here last year for a pottery class and was inspired to open her own glass workshop. She was mesmerized by the artsy atmosphere, less overwhelming life, and more genuine connections she found here. Unlike in Guangzhou, where everyone is busy, people are closer-knit in Jingdezhen.
Yongyi Tan inside her glass-making workshop.
“People I met here are simple. A friend hung this curtain for me, another friend helped me paint the walls. On the grand opening day, they sent me flowers and brought their friends over.” She pointed at the curtain, a beaming smile on her face.
The city has long been a hub for ceramic artists. Inside a ceramic sculpture loft studio in Taoxichuan Wenchuang Block, Miaochun Chen glanced at a batch of her latest sculptures — a series of dogs inspired by her childhood pet. The studio, spanning two floors, serves as her home base, with the first floor dedicated to ceramic-making and the second floor designated for living.
Jingdezhen’s artistic atmosphere is especially noticeable in Taoxichuan. Much like 798 Art District in Beijing, it’s a cultural enclave repurposed from old industrial buildings, in this case porcelain factories. Starting in 2018, architect David Chipperfield converted the neighborhood’s buildings into a museum, a ceramics market, porcelain shops, Taoxichuan Grand Theatre, and a hotel complex. Since then, the district has become a center for exhibitions, art conferences, and ceramic courses. Though Chen had only been here for a month, she appreciated the easy access to art in this district. Her husband Lin Zhao, a renowned ceramic artist, had been going back and forth between Jingdezhen and Foshan for years. A month ago, the family finally decided to relocate here, joining Zhao as he took up a post as artist-in-residence in Taoxichuan.
Miaochun Chen’s latest batch of ceramic dogs.
Crafting ceramic sculptures has infused her life as a full-time mom with a newfound passion. After her daughter arrives at kindergarten for the day, she spends her time in a creative state. In this city of art, Chen and Zhao have found themselves welcomed into a community of kindred spirits, engaging in enriching conversations about art and attending exhibitions that fuel their shared passion.
“We meet and talk to people from all over the place. I’m happy my kid can grow up in this more open-minded and liberal environment,” Chen said.
Chen’s husband, ceramic artist Lin Zhao, working on a sculpture.
However, the porcelain capital’s boom has come at a price. As the sprawling city has become one of the most popular domestic destinations for artists and free spirits, living costs have skyrocketed, pricing out locals. During the Chinese New Year holiday, hotels were fully booked ahead of time, and prices for a one-night stay rose from hundreds of RMB to thousands. In Sculpture Factory, landlords have taken the surge of new cafés and stores as a signal to raise rents, squeezing out elderly local porcelain artisans who can no longer afford spaces in the area.
A newly-opened designer ceramic shop in Sculpture Factory.
Pan, a graduate student in Jingdezhen, came here for college in 2018, before the city’s gentrification had dramatically accelerated. She started a street vending business in 2019, but the escalating fees soon became a source of exasperation. In four years, the monthly fees for street vending increased from 200 RMB to 1,200 RMB in Taoxichuan and 320 RMB to 560 RMB in Su Space, two popular sites for vendors.
“I stay in Jingdezhen to avoid involuted life in the big cities, but the competition is getting more fierce here. I don’t know how long I can hold on,” she said.
On a Wednesday afternoon, friends showed up at Meng Meng’s café to play with her dog McDull, a half-Maltese, half-Teddy who welcomed them with playful licks. Meanwhile, Meng Meng acknowledged that, even as a Jing Drifter, she had noticed the inflation of local prices and was worried about her rent for the next year. Her lunch that day had just cost her as much as a meal in Beijing.
“Jingdezhen is transitioning into a tourist city. It’s sad that a wave of younger people is squeezing out local artisans, but it’s also inevitable. At least we, as a younger generation, can build something meaningful along the way to shape the future of this amazing city,” she said.
Since the beginning of China’s Reform and Opening Up in the late 1970s, the country’s contemporary artists have expressed themselves in bracing new ways, blurring the boundaries between creative disciplines, traveling across the globe to embrace different perspectives, and melding tradition with technology to reimagine Chinese visual culture.
Founded across the Pacific just a few years before the birth of Chinese contemporary art, East West Bank has in many ways followed an analogous journey. The bank has formed a bridge between the East and the West, drawing upon the best of both cultures; overcome challenges through innovative thinking; and ceaselessly explored new ways of doing business to provide the best for its community. Along the way, East West Bank has itself become a major supporter of Chinese and Asian art in America, underscoring its belief in the power of art to open us up to new perspectives.
The East West Bank Collection
The East West Bank Collection is just one of the bank’s artistic initiatives, along with the East West Bank Art Terrace at San Francisco’s Asian Art Museum, East West Bank Plaza at the Broad in Los Angeles, and support for major exhibitions at the Museum of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles (MOCA), Los Angeles County Museum of Art (LACMA), and other leading art institutions. Founded 18 years ago, the collection brings together a myriad of artists who come from a wide variety of backgrounds and work in vastly different styles and mediums. Diverse in terms of their generations, genders, and geographies, these artists are united in their creative drive and dedication to inspiring us to see the world with fresh eyes. Though originally focused on Chinese artists, the collection has since expanded to incorporate artists of other ethnic backgrounds, reflecting the rich tapestry of East West Bank’s community.
From Cai Guo-Qiang’s ecstatic use of gunpowder to create paintings, to Tidawhitney Lek’s resplendent, surrealistic explorations of Cambodian-American identity, Cui Jie’s utopian depictions of stark, 1980s architecture and beyond, the work of the collection’s artists offers viewers countless new possibilities and ways of seeing the world. Taken together, the East West Bank Collection furthers the bank’s mission to foster deeper social, cultural, and political understanding across borders.
Introducing “Stories on Canvas”
These are the same values that the bank has stood firmly behind since its early days. When East West Bank opened its first branch in Los Angeles in 1973, its principal aim was to serve Chinese Americans, a demographic often neglected by mainstream banks. Over the next few decades, the bank would expand throughout the U.S., and into China and the rest of Asia. East West Bank is not only the financial bridge between the East and the West, but also a cultural bridge connecting people and celebrating diverse perspectives, using art as one of its platforms.
Considering East West Bank’s inspiring mission and commitment towards supporting the arts, RADII is proud to once again collaborate with the pioneering financial institution. As part of the special project “Stories on Canvas,” over the coming months we’ll be sharing videos and writing that take a close look at the shape of contemporary painting and Asian identity. Stay tuned as we spotlight Asian artists who are making their voices heard and connecting cultures!
As of March 1st, newly revised “Regulations on the Management of the Express Delivery Market” have come into effect in China. These regulations mandate that express delivery companies may be fined up to 30,000 RMB (4,167 USD) for unauthorized use of intelligent parcel lockers or delivery service stations without user consent, with severe cases facing the maximum penalty.
New rules mandate couriers to deliver every package direct to recipients’ doors. Image via China National Radio.
However, the enforcement of these regulations presents a dilemma. Within the first week of the new rules being introduced, interviews with residents and delivery staff in Wenzhoushowed that they weren’t being enforced. Now, almost two months later, reporting in Changsha has revealed ongoing challenges, mostly due to residents’ unawareness of the updated regulations or preference for delivery station safety. Inconsistent enforcement has led to frustration among delivery personnel who are already grappling with overwhelming workloads.
Despite the mounting workload, courier payments haven’t kept pace, as major delivery firms compete with each other by lowering prices, neglecting pay for regular delivery staff. This imbalance has sparked a wave of resignations among delivery personnel in China. Since the new rules were introduced two months ago, some Cainiao Package Locker managers have even resorted to delivering packages themselves to alleviate the mounting package backlog at their stations.
Workers at a Cainiao Intelligent Package Locker. Image via Weibo.
For consumers, the plight of delivery workers might prompt reflection on our shopping habits. Is it necessary to make so many online purchases, or should we consider supporting offline businesses to boost the local economies?
While online shopping has become an unavoidable part of daily life in China (and indeed, much of the rest of the world), it’s essential to acknowledge the strain it places on couriers. Rather than transferring the burden to them, there’s a call to calculate the true cost of logistics and ensure fair treatment for those on the frontline of delivery services. As China navigates its delivery landscape, finding solutions that balance regulatory compliance, consumer convenience, and worker well-being is imperative.
