Talking a couple of days ago of the French writer Roland Dorgeles and his 1926 On the Mandarin Road travelogue to French Indo-China, here’s his 1928 novel Departure about a Messagerie Maritime voyage on a liner from Marseille to Saigon. It is largely forgotten now but was, apparently, a classic of the popular genre in the 1920s of la litterature d’escale, or port-of-call novels…
Plenty has been written on the popularity of Jazz in interwar Shanghai and the large number (comparatively) of African-American jazz musicians, singers and bands that passed through the city. I won’t rehash everything here – black musicians had been appearing in Shanghai since the early part of the twentieth century (as chronicled in a number of books including Andrew Field Shanghai’s Dancing World) and this process accelerated as Shanghai, both Chinese and Shanghailander, came to appreciate and want more jazz. The factors attracting African-American musicians and entertainers were multiple of course:
Social – Shanghai was generally perceived as being somewhere with distinctly less prejudice, racism and exclusionary practices than America (mostly true, though racism both formal and informal did exist and was experienced – plenty of Shanghailanders were racist, some clubs and dancehalls operated informal colour bars while some places, like the American Club, operated formal bars; the 4th Marines stationed in the city were a fairly aggressive bunch too);
Market – the growing demand for jazz in the city, the proliferation of venues and the perceived authenticity of black musicians (though obviously there was also a demand for white bands, either American, European or made up of Russians, Italians, Filipinos etc in Shanghai);
Economic – for most of the period wages were pretty good, taxes low to non-existent and the exchange rate in America’s favour (though how you were paid, in what currency, whether you got cheated etc depended on the generosity or otherwise as well as the honesty of the employer).
Reading William A Shack”s Harlem in Montmartre, about the Paris jazz scene and specifically the crucial role of African-American musicians between the wars we can add another “push” factor that encouraged African-American entertainers to travel to Shanghai – the French 10% law…
Paris had of course been a Mecca to black American jazz musicians after World War One – black servicemen that stayed on after the Great War in the more liberal environment of Paris, more that came once word got out, others booked for European tours who found Paris congenial. However, in June 1933 France enacted the so-called 10% law. Enacted in the wake of the onset of the Great Depression in Europe the law restricted the number of foreign musicians employed by an establishment to 10%. This naturally caused a lot of unemployment and, while many stars and band leaders remained in work, many ordinary musicians found themselves unemployed.
Among those who found themselves struggling to make a living in Paris and lit out for Shanghai were:
Bob and Teddy Drinkard – who took their floor show to the Canidrome Ballroom in Frenchtown
Nora Holt Ray – a singer who worked in various Shanghai nightclubs
Al Baldwin – who worked in Shanghai floor shows for six years
Ulysses S (“Slow Kid”) Thompson – the husband of the (recently deceased) Florence Mills who got a gig at Shanghai’s Little Club
Thompson with Florence Mills
Of course after 1933, and things got tougher in Paris, American bands circumvented Europe and went straight to Shanghai with greater regularity. But it seems France’s decision to enact the 10% law saw a lot head straight to Marseilles and jump the Messagerie Maritime boat to Shanghai.
And so finally the long awaited (dreaded!) Shanghai EXPO is upon us and officially opens this Saturday- how to mark it’s arrival? Well, back in 1937 Shanghai people were all agog at the prospect of an EXPO too – the Paris Exposition of 1937. Adverts ran all year in the Shanghai newspapers, Chinese and English (and French obviously) courtesy of the French Cultural Attache in Shanghai. As in 2010 ticketing was a key issue and transport laid on courtesy of the Messagerie Maritime ocean liners (which beats a crowded ride on the Shanghai subway). Note that the French, rather wisely I think, dispensed with the later tradition of an EXPO mascot as dumb as Haibao and just used the Eiffel Tower – well done them.
I blogged back in September 2014 about the announcement that Shanghai’s Dongtai Road, its much-loved tat (and the odd antique) street, was coming down, as all old roads must eventually in Shanghai. There was nothing amazingly historic about the Dongtai Road market – it had only been around since the 1980s. However, the street itself had a longer history – Dongtai Lu was once Rue Tai Chan in the French Concession and constructed around 1902. The street was originally named after Taishan in Guangdong Province and well-known by many at the time as it is estimated that over 75% of all overseas Chinese in North America until the mid- to late-twentieth century could claim origin from Taishan. It was   renamed in 1906 after A. Hennequin, a member of the Conseil Municipalde Changhai and an agent of the Messageries Maritimes shipping line. Though French he was elected Chairman of the British dominated Shanghai Club in 1878. The road was a popular location for street entertainers long before it became a market.
The point about Dongtai Road’s destruction is that it leaves another swath of land with nothing planned but tower blocks, car parks and malls extending across from Xintiandi effectively. With Jingling Road (formerly Rue du Consulat) being destroyed at the moment that could leave the entire stretch from the river at Zhongshan No.2 Road (often called the Bund by people, but formerly the Quai de France as it was Frenchtown) as far west as the North-South Elevated Road completely flattened and rebuilt. That is a substantial section of the former French Concession and remember that the destruction of the old town, to the south of this area, is already substantial too.
There’s another point too, though one I know the master builders of Shanghai have no interest in. The former French Concession is now (with the exception of a couple of small indoor food markets) completely free of street markets. If, like me, you think street markets an essential part of a city then you should mourn the passing of Dongtai Road. Across Asia street markets have succumbed to the thirst of developers for land – Hong Kong being a prime example. In Shanghai, I think, it’s both a hunger for development/profit opportunities by the philistine combination of the Party-state and property developers, but also a slight distrust of markets, places where people gather, mingle, talk, argue and act as a community in a way far less controllable than in a heavily mediated public square, a shopping mall or an anodyne faux-space such as the Xintiandi development. Street markets have an inherent chaotic vitality and pleasant anarchy to them that is naturally abhorrent to the city authorities.
Imagine a London without Portobello Road, Petticoat Lane or Leather Lane; a Paris without Clignancourt, Port des Vanves or the numerous flea markets; Taipei without its night food markets (a phenomenon almost totally gone now in mainland China and Shanghai – see previous posts on the end of Wujiang Road/Love Lane back in 2010/2011) – most cities of any interest have their street markets. Shanghai now does not and has not really for some time had traditional street markets – Xiangyang Road remains as a street food market I think, but the old push and shove of the Huating Road market (moved up the road, cleaned up, made orderly and then bulldozed to make way for yet another office block) is over 15 years ago now.
The loss of the old Rue Hennequin is sad – now another ghost street that once existed but no longer. The loss of the Dongtai Road market is also a shame, though not in the way of lost architecture or buildings, but more in a loss of a vital ingredient to urban life – a little piece of the chaotic vitality of the people’s market against the blanding, smoothing, antiseptic, air conditioned, controlled city that Shanghai has become.
Thanks to Gary Bowerman of Scribes of the Orient for this picture of Dongtai Lu last week – gone!
I was recently looking at the amazing photographs of Nazi-occupied Paris by Andre Zucca (below) – Les Parisiens sous l’Occupation. They are interesting and have attracted a lot of attention in recent years due to their largely showing a seemingly carefree city despite the occupation. However, I did not know that Zucca had visited China and Hong before the war and taken pictures there too. Zucca was French, began his photographic career in the 1920s and lived in Paris. In 1937, he left on a six month trip on a Messageries Maritimes ship from Le Havre to Japan via the Suez Canal. En route he visited India, Hong Kong and China. His photographs were published inParis-Soir,Match, Life and Picture Post, among others.
His photographs of China and Hong Kong are far harder to find than his now famous images of wartime Paris (which are in colour which adds to their startling nature) but worth seeking out…
The market itself (a bit more tat and fake than curio and antique) has only been on that site since the 1980s. Dongtai Lu was once Rue Tai Chan in the French Concession and constructed around 1902. The street was originally named after Taishan in Guangdong Province and well-known by many at the time as it is estimated that over 75% of all overseas Chinese in North America until the mid- to late-twentieth century could claim origin from Taishan. It was   renamed in 1906 after A. Hennequin, a member of the Conseil Municipal and an agent of the Messageries Maritimes shipping line. Though French he was elected Chairman of the British dominated Shanghai Club in 1878. The road was a popular location for street entertainers long before it became a market.
I expect it’s been a while since anyone scored a real bargain down Dongtai Lu. Going back to the early 90s it was still possible to find old books and old Shanghai signage and I got a few maps there. I’ve heard of wonderous finds at bargain prices but suspect these were truly miracles. Still it had a certain old school charm and such streets (think of New York’s flea markets, London’s Portobello Road or Paris’s Cligancourt) are, I think, essential pieces of a city’s infrastructure. More tower blocks and probably coffee shops and a luxury mall won’t add much I fear. Of course many of these properties are uncomfortable from the point of view of modern conveniences, but not unrecoverable by any means if there’s a will to do so – which there, of course, is not. As ever I doubt any of the current residents will be able to afford, or have the sway, to stay living in the area and the community will go as well as a mixed environment in downtown Shanghai.
The other day I posted a picture of the wonderful old MM Iraquaddy but asked where the picture was taken. A few emailed me and all agreed that the city behind the ship is indeed, and perhaps unsurprisingly, the home port of the Messageries Maritimes line, Marseille (is there an ‘s’ or not? I’m never sure). That indeed does appear to be the splendid Marseille Cathedral and so below some pictures of the same stretch of Marseille waterfront from slightly different angles (just further to the right on the Iraquaddy picture would have been the lighthouse and old fort that would have helped identify the port) and the beautiful cathedral itself. Of course Marseille was France’s main port of embarkation for all points East.
I’ve made a few references over the years to the great French shipping line Messageries Maritimes (MM) who regularly sailed from China to Marseilles and also ran ships around French Indo-China (for instance, here’s an MM related post). So here’s a picture I came across recently of the MM Iraquaddy. And a fine old girl she is too under full steam. I assume Iraquaddy to be a French corruption of the River Irrawaddy in Burma. Here’s what’s driving me crazy though – can anyone tell me which river frontage that is behind the Iraquaddy? It’s not Shanghai sadly. It looks French, or at least the buildings to the far left do and the central building looks like a railway station (also French like I think – at least it reminds me of the old Gare d’Orsay, now the Musee d’Orsay in Paris on the Seine) but I don’t know Marseilles well enough.
Any experts that can tell me where the Iraquaddy was when this picture was taken?