Anacostia Community Museum – Reclaiming the Edge: Urban Waterways and Civic Engagement

A quick mention for an exhibition – Reclaiming the Edge: Urban Waterways and Civic Engagement – currently running at the Anacostia Community Museum in Washington DC until next September 2013. Urban waterways are of course fascinating and essential and can be done well (think Paris of course with its urban beaches, the revitalised Thames, the rebirth of Manchester’s Ship Canal, Suzhou shady canal-side lanes etc) or not so good (think the mostly dreary canals of Beijing, the lost opportunities in LA etc).

Shanghai is included in this exhibtiion and is, as ever, a tale of two cities – there’s no doubt that Suzhou (Soochow) Creek is a great improvement environmentally on its condition a decade ago (trash, filth, dead dogs etc), yet too much of the creek-side path is blocked, controlled as private land by developers or concreted off for mysterious reasons. Meanwhile Sawgin and other creeks that are essential to Shanghai’s urban waterway system are largely ignored despite their history (Hongkou’s waterways were once major places of commerce and homes for boat dwellers).

Anyway, if you’re near Anacostia pop along – I think they’re exhibiting a fairly rare postcard I had of dragon boats on the Soochow Creek early in the twentieth century which shows that the Creek was, as well as a home for some and a commercial thoroughfare, also a place of fun, tradition and entertainment.

Soochow Creek in its glory days…

Reclaiming the Edge: Urban Waterways and Civic Engagement

October 15, 2012 – September 15, 2013

Location: Main Gallery

Based on research by the museum on the history, public use, and attitudes toward the Anacostia River and its watershed and on review of urban waterway developments in Los Angeles, Pittsburgh, Louisville, London, and Shanghai, Reclaiming the Edge explores various issues regarding human interaction with natural resources in an urban setting. It looks at densely populated watersheds and at rivers as barriers to racial and ethnic integration. The exhibition also examines civic attempts to recover, clean up, re-imagine, or engineer urban rivers for community access and use. The opening of this exhibition kicks off the museum’s 45th anniversary.

Anna May’s These Foolish Things

Talking of Anna May in a couple of posts recently (on the actor Ley On and on her  French-English movie Hai-Tang) and listening to some favourite songs on New Year’s Eve I was reminded that Eric Maschwitz, the song writer, around 1936 wrote These Foolish Things for Anna May Wong (lyrics below). What I’d forgotten, much as I love that song, is that Maschwitz wrote the song after having worked in America, had had a rather romantic and deep felt affair with Anna May Wong and then, after it broke up, returned to England to be Head of Variety at the BBC. He missed Anna May terribly (as you would) and it inspired him, in a melancholy moment, to write These Foolish Things.

The song was recently re-recorded and has become well known again thanks to Rod Stewart and I note this version is online with a collage of Anna May images – so as it’s the end of the holidays and its back to wage slavery soon – relax with a little Rod and Anna May Wong…

A cigarette that bears a lipstick’s traces
An airline ticket to romantic places
And still my heart has wings
These foolish things remind me of you

A tinkling piano in the next apartment
Those stumblin’ words that told you what my heart meant
A fairground’s painted swings
These foolish things remind me of you

You came, you saw, you conquered me
When you did that to me
I knew somehow this had to be

The winds of March that make my heart a dancer
A telephone that rings but who’s to answer?
Oh, how the ghost of you clings
These foolish things remind me of you

The scent of smouldering leaves the wail of steamers
Two lovers on the street who walk like dreamers
Oh how the ghost of you clings
These foolish things
Remind me of you

How strange, how sweet, to find you still
These things are dear to me
They seem to bring you so near to me

The sigh of midnight trains in empty stations
Silk stockings thrown aside dance invitations
Oh how the ghost of you clings
These foolish things
Remind me of you
Remind me of you
Remind me of you

Anna May Wong as Hai-Tang

Browsing around film posters the other day for a post on the largely forgotten Chinese-British actor Ley On I noted he had first appeared in 1930 in a Anna May Wong German film Der Weg Zur Schande. I found that Anna May was also in another German film, one I was not aware of, called Hai-Tang, directed by Richard Eichberg, a prolific German film maker, and Jean Kemm, an equally prolific French actor and director. The film was one of those common cross-production (at least until the mid-1930s) between the French and Germans and the film was issued in both a French and English language version. As well as Anna May is starred the French actor Marcel Vibert (a good idea as Vibert spoke excellent English so could work in both languages and had worked in Britain previously, so could talk easily with Anna May).

It seems the Germans and French sought to exploit Anna May’s image created by EA Dupont in the terrific movie Piccadilly in 1929, shot in London. I’ve posted a lot previously on Piccadilly (here and here). Anna May is exoticised to the max and the trick is repeated in the movie posters for Hai-Tang – particularly the third one below which is an almost direct copy of the most famous Piccadilly. Exotic melodrama would be the best way to describe the film.

Anyway, I like the art work – especially the first poster shown here below…

Nanjing’s Soong Mei Ling Palace to be Restored

The China Daily (so hold your nose on this one obviously) reports that plans are afoot to restore the so-called Soong Mei-Ling (Madame Chiang) Palace in Nanjing. The project should be completed by next October and then the palace will reopen to the public. The building lies in a leafy suburb of Nanjing and was home to Chiang and Mei Ling during the time of the Republican capital being located at Nanking. The building was begun in 1931 and completed in 1934. Though it managed to survive the Japanese occupation the post-49 administration has been less than kind to the building – thoughtless conversions to provide offices for Party functionaries and bureaucrats in part of the compound, a rather awful state-run hotel in another part. Maintenance was minimal, oversight non-existant. However, it was a well built originally to a higher standard than most post-49 structures so has weathered well.

Now, of course, the tricky question – just what damage will the “renovation” do? We’re used of course to renovations not always being overly helpful in China!! However, I’d venture to suggest that Nanjing has done and can do a slightly better job than either Shanghai (pretty awful generally) or Beijing (nothing less than an architectural and historical holocaust to be honest) – the large number of universities and academics there seems to help as well as being somewhat out of the political and investment spotlight. We shall see – a while back I did a round up in a few posts of notable and interesting Nanjing preservation if anyone’s interested (here, here, here, here, here and here The restorers say – “Renovation will faithfully adhere to blueprint of mansion from 1931-34.” but, as ever we’ll have to wait and see.

Who was Ley On?

Who was Ley On? – the actor mentioned in my post the other day on 1930s London Chinese restaurants. At some point he was famous in London – formally opening the Chop Suey restaurant on Shaftesbury Avenue and Meard Street. He was said to have been in a film with Anna May Wong – and indeed the lucky bugger was!.

Ley On did exist – he’s on IMDB and listed as having been in at least eight films starting with a German film – Der Weg Zur Schande – in 1930. That was one of Anna May Wong’s German films where she went to work with the expressionists after having been a success in London in Piccadilly (of which no more as I’ve gone on about that film and Anna May’s role in it many times on this blog!!). Anna liked pre-Nazi Weimar Germany and, so rumour had it, got it on with both Marlene Dietrich (well who wouldn’t and many references to her and Shanghai Express on this blog over the years too) and Leni Riefenstahl (before she went all Nazi torch parades bonkers!). The film did come out in the UK as The Flame of Love, so audiences would have seen him in London.

Ley On was apparently born in Canton (Guangzhou if you must) in 1890 but settled largely in London – in 1931 he appeared in the film The Boat from Shanghai (a forgettable romance on the high seas pic), a movie also known as Chin China Chinaman.He then appeared in a British vehicle for Charles Laughton called The Beachcomber (1938) from the Somerset Maugham novel. During the war he was obviously in London and did his bit appearing in the Powell & Pressburger patriotic movie 49th Parallel, a movie aimed at getting the reluctant yanks to come and fight fascism – Ley On played an Eskimo!!I’m not sure but I think the only photograph of Ley On I can find is the one below – a still from 49th Parallel with an eskimo in the background, possibly Ley On (but I can’t be sure – he’s not credited in the photo).

In 1942’s forgettable Banana Ridge he played a Chinese “boy” though he’d have been 52 by that point! He carried on appearing in Brit-flicks after the war – in 1947 heading to North Wales (aka the Himalayas!) with Deborah Kerr and Flora Robson for Black Narcissus, another Powell and Pressburger flick and a big hit – certainly his biggest. His last credited film appears to have been in 1950 – The Black Rose – absolute nonsense about Norman archers going to China with an embarrassed looking Orson Welles, Tyrone Power and Jack Hawkins.

I’m sure Ley On must have done other work over his career – theatre I expect. Anyone with any leads please do let me know. Seems to me we have lots more information on Chinese-American actors – major and minor – than those who worked exclusively or largely in the UK. Would be nice to build up a rounder profile.

A Final Post on 1930s London Chinese Restaurants – The Shanghai Restaurant’s Cookery Book

And a final post about London’s Chinese restaurants in the 1930s after the last two (here and here) this week. Mentioning the famous Shanghai Restaurant I am amazed to find they published a recipe book in 1936 (a sort of River Cafe type operation for the 1930s!!) – the Shanghai Restaurant Chinese Cookery Book, edited by Mr SK Cheng and The Proprietors of the Shanghai Restaurant, “a cookbook based on recipes from London’s Shanghai Restaurant, adapted for the home kitchen.” There’s a surprising amount of second hand copies knocking around on the internet at various prices.

…And so we get, for instance: “prawn rolls, sharks’ fins in soup, fried duck, lobster omelette, fried rice with crab, pork cubes with sour sweet sauce, chicken chop suey” or how about Birds Nest in Whole Chicken which requires 1 oz birds nests, which are sewn into a whole boned chicken (which is first rinsed out with gin!) and steamed in ‘Primary Soup’ (essentially chicken stock).

And everything you needed could be purchased from The Shanghai Emporium (adjacent to the Shanghai Restaurant) on 6 Greek Street in Soho.

A nice link to London 1930s Chinese culture and also an early example of a restaurant cleverly cashing in on its fame with branded books and products.

William Empson and a little more on London’s Chinese Restaurants in the 1930s

Following on from my post about the London Chinese restaurant scene of the 1930s yesterday. Post two looks at some bohemian types out for a Chinese in the London of the 1930s.

The poet, academic and long time China sojourner William Empson (who sadly often gets left of the roll call of prominent foreigners to have resided in Beijing though is still remembered in some places – see my post on his blue plaque in London) reveals a little of London’s 1930s Chinese restaurant culture in his diaries and letters. In February 1936, the artist Julian Trevelyan and his wife Ursula, TS Eliot, and William Empson dined out at the Shanghai Restaurant in Greek Street, Soho – a favourite of literary types apparently. Eliot was vivacious and loquacious that evening remembers Trevelyan.

Trevelyan

Now the Shanghai Restaurant is interesting and a bit of a mystery. The notorious London Chinese Brilliant Chang (no time to discuss him in detail here but his life is summarised here or in Anne Witchard’s Lao She in London or Marek Kohn’s excellent short book Dope Girls) did, for at least a while, run a restaurant called the Shanghai that (I thought) was on Piccadilly or on Regent Street in the 1920s.

So here’s the mystery – it seems Empson (above) might have recalled the restaurant as on Greek where the Shanghai Restaurant was opposite the Canton Restaurant, as the newspaper article below indicates. The same article had a restaurant called “Chinese” in Piccadilly run by a Mr Chang Choy since 1909 (too early and not the right Chang to be Brilliant Chang I think). Can anyone clear this up – have we confused Brilliant Chang’s Shanghai Restaurant with the Greek Street one (hardly far from Piccadilly)? And when did Chang’s restaurant close?

The Queenslander newspaper noted in 1932:

Returning, we take the narrows of Meard Street, across Frith Street into Greek Street, where we come out by the Canton Restaurant, a ground floor with windows full of Chinese delicacies. Almost opposite is the Shanghai, which shares with the “Chinese” in Piccadilly the honour of having been one of the first to open on this foreign shore. The “Shanghai” is much frequented by literary folk, and has been “mentioned more than once in the public prints.” Only the old archway of the Manette Street hostelry divides the Shanghai restau rant from the large provision shop recently opened under the same management.

( LONDON’S CHINESE RESTAURANTS. The Queenslander July 21^st 1932)

London’s Chinese Restaurant Scene in the 1930s (one of three posts)

The first of three posts over the next few days on what London’s Chinese restaurant scene was like in the 1930s and the bohemian crowd that opted for Chinese food back before the war.We start with a round up of the Chinese restaurant scene in the early thirties…

What was London’s Chinese restaurant scene like in the 1930s? Of course Chinese restaurants had been around since the late nineteenth century but how mainstream or otherwise was Chinese food by the eve of the War? Who ate at these places in the West End of London? Chinese restaurants were becoming common enough among bohemians, arty and media types to get referenced in novels of the time – see my post about Eric Ambler’s 1930s novel Cause for Alarm.

Here though is a nice round up of what the West End had to offer in terms of Chinese food – from an article entitled LONDON’S CHINESE RESTAURANTS in The Queenslander from July 21^st 1932

IF we start from the centre of the West-End of London, setting out from Piccadilly Circus, we can take in all the Chinese restaurants of the West-End within half an hour’s walk (writes Townley Searle in his book, “Strange News from China”). The Chinese Restaurant in Piccadilly Circus was one, if not the first, to open in their neighbourhood. It was started in 1909 by Mr. Chang Choy, and has continued for 22 years. The premises are, of cource, the most centrally situated of any, and consist of the upper floors of 4 Glasshouse Street. Each floor is decorated in approved Chinese style, in which the Chinese lantern predominates. The food is excellent, as it is in every Chinese restaurant, and if one knows “what to order” there can be no question of disappointment. From Piccadilly Circus we go up Shaftesbury Avenue as far as Wardour Street, where we come upon restaurants on both sides of the load, that on the left being the older and more imposing. Started in 1918 as the London Maxims, when that concern failed to meet with the success enjoyed by its rival in Paris, the premises were sold and reopened as the Chinese Maxims by one of our Oriental friends, who already had a restaurant in Avenue Chinois. From here, if we drop down to the Strand, we find one of the more recently opened places, the Chop Suey, at the corner of Buckingham Street, which is presided over by Mr. Y. Fugii. This Chop Suey is different from all the others, and is probably the only one of its kind in the world. It is unique, in that it is half Chinese and half Japanese. The ground floor is the Japanese department, and here is set a small gas ring upon every table, so that he who runs, or rather sits, may, if he wishes, be his own cook. I should perhaps at once explain that either the proprietor or one of the waitresses will not only show you how to do it, but will actually cook a meal under your very nose and upon the table at which you sit if you are entirely ignorant as to the proper procedure. The fact that all the food is brought to the table in the raw state precludes any possibility of its being other than fresh and good, while a visit to Mr. Fugii’s restaurant affords the novice a very good and free lesson in Chinese and Japanese cooking. Chop-sticks are provided, either of wood (enclosed with a small tooth pick and hygienically wrapped in paper), or of ivory, and the correct way of eating is to put some rice in your bowl and help yourself with the chop sticks from the pan, carrying the food from pan to bowl and there dipping it in the rice and sauce, or whatever you have. It is not correct to fill your bowl from the main dish, and the bowl, as hereafter explained, should be taken near the mouth and the food thrown in by means of the chop sticks. Chop Suey.

RETRACING our steps and crossing Shaftesbury Avenue at Wardour Street is the first restaurant in London to be called Chop Suey. This was opened by Ley On, a film artist, who has played in pictures with Anna May Wong. The premises consist of two floors at the corner of Meard Street, with entrances in both thoroughfares. Here may be purchased every kind of Chinese food and even delicacies like shark’s fin, while bowls and other crockery, ivory chop-sticks, Chinese pencils, and Chinese gramophone records are on sale, and are exhibited in cases round the walls. The lower room has some very amusing paintings, for when Ley On opened his restaurant he invited his artist friends to roll up and help in the decorating. Strange tales told out of Burmah, Indo-China, Siam, and every corner of the Eastern world may be gathered and conjured from these walls.

Returning, we take the narrows of Meard Street, across Frith Street into Greek Street, where we come out by the Canton Restaurant, a ground floor with windows full of Chinese delicacies. Almost opposite is the Shanghai, which shares with the “Chinese” in Piccadilly the honour of having been one of the first to open on this foreign shore. The “Shanghai” is much frequented by literary types, and has been “mentioned more than once in the public prints.” Only the old archway of the Manette Street hostelry divides the Shanghai restaurant from the large provision shop recently opened under the same management. Taking the very narrow path through the old archway, and turning to the right, we are upon another Canton restaurant, occupying a large first floor in Charing Cross Road. This is the only restaurant in London that reminds us of the hundreds of similar establishments in America, where one has a choice of over 600 Chinese restaurants in New York City alone. Both the Canton restaurants, together with one in Edinburgh, are run by Mr. Wong Gee and his partner, who place a room at the disposal of the Chinese student societies. Continuing on our way, we cross the new “booksellers’ row” (this is one of the very few busy London streets lined with an avenue of trees), and enter Denmark Street, which is now almost wholly given over to Chinese and Japanese restaurants and emporia. Undoubtedly the most amusing of these places is The Nanking, presided over by Mr. Fung Saw. Mr. Fung is some thing of a politician, and to his restaurant come many of the more youthful of the budding Parliamentarians. These, together with composers and song writers, their publishers and film artists, comprise the chief of Mr. Fung’s clientele. The hall of feasting is reached by long, steep steps, which lead to an exceptionally large, light, and lofty basement. There is another and a mere prosaic entrance through a hall door on the ground floor, but somehow no one ever seems to notice it, and so we descend the more picturesque steps. Inside, the decorations are reminiscent of a Chinese junk, and the walls are decorated in vermilion and in greens and yellows, which only a Chinese artist is able to use to Oriental perfection. On the opposite side of the road are two Japanese restaurants, and just round the corner we can enter the banqueting hall of Wah Yeng, who contents himself with catering, to the exclusion of everything else. Mr. Yeng explained that he had a largo back room, which he reserved for Chinese business men, but as Chinese merchants do not so often come to London the hall at the back is usually thrown open to all. Within a stone’s threw is a new-comer, trading as The New Chop-Suey, occupying a ground floor and shop in New Compton Street.

The Queenslander July 21^st 1932

Piccadilly Circus and environs…1930