Shanzhai culture, Dafen art, and copyrightsprofessional roles of the people working and living there differ, but the variety of motivations
and aspirations of the gallery owners, framers, and painter–workers in Dafen counter the global
image of an anonymous labor force.
Aesthetics
Dong Ran^1 is a twenty-seven-year-old painter from Guangdong who came to Dafen seven years
ago. When talking about creativity, he articulated, as did most other painters we spoke with, the
discourse that privileges the original over the copy. In his words, original works “are embed-
ded in thinking, one’s own thinking. Hanghua are simply imitations.” Hanghua is the word used
for the commercial paintings produced in Dafen. However, during the same interview he also
muddled that clear distinction claiming, “Our works are actually very close to artworks. We are
just a thin layer away from real art.” Other painters are also critical of the “real” art world, for
example Wei Wei from Guangxi, who was in his twenties. In his view, an exhibition was actually
a kind of “packaging,” and people in 798—the well-known art district in Beijing (also known as
Dashanzi) —“are only chasing after money and fame. It’s rather superficial.”
Wei Wei’s colleague Liu Heping, aged twenty-three, moved to Dafen four months after
finishing his studies at an academy of fine arts. Liu held to the dominant discourse, claiming
Dafen “to be closer to the market. You paint according to what the market demands. It’s different
from the academy.” This narrative, drenched in the global discourse on what counts as creative,
is dominant, even when the painters know they cannot live up to this ideal. Wang Xinping, a
twenty-seven-year-old women from Hubei who moved to Dafen after working in a factory for
three years, claimed that “originality is very important ... [but] it is too hard to insist on doing
original work. The pressure of living is too heavy.”
The global discourse on “real art” thus produces in Dafen a sense of lack and lagging behind,
as we will elaborate when we further discuss the aspirations of these painter–workers. The resil-
ience and hegemony of ideas related to originality and individuality bring into question the ear-
lier discussed notion that in China creativity means something quite different, and that mimetic
practices are considered more acceptable. The Dafen experience also compels us to ponder how
productive the rubric of shanzhai ultimately is. It seems that the global discourse of creativity,
and its moral complicity with the global IPR regime, remains firmly in place.
Circulation
Underwriting Wong’s findings (2014), we want to highlight the diversity we encountered in
Dafen. While visiting the galleries, we experienced an approach to art that we had not faced
anywhere else. The galleries we are more familiar with in the West usually have guards, and
physical barriers—symbolic or not—in order to sustain the sanctified aura of “real art.” By not
showing the prices of the artworks, and by often having to ring a bell in order to even enter the
space, Western galleries further distance the viewer from the work. Dafen galleries struck us as
much more inviting. Their doors were usually open and the price tags clearly visible. The owner
of one gallery, after inquiring about which style we liked and how many rooms our house had,
told us, “Why don’t you go and have a coffee. I’ll select a package of works, one for each room,
as I have an idea of your taste. We can offer you a good price.” Such package deals, the literal
domestication of art for use as an interior item, and the claim to knowledge of the client’s taste,
all undermine dominant notions in the established art world.
The emphasis on valuing the client’s personal taste was further affirmed when we bought
a work from an artist in Dafen. (We should add that we ourselves were victim to the standard