Art

In fantasy-themed TV dramas, immortals are often depicted wearing pristine white robes that flutter in the wind, sometimes blending Eastern and Western styles. But is this historically accurate? While modern interpretations mix ancient Chinese aesthetics with European influences, the dominance of white or light-colored costumes has led to the saying: Elegance comes from simplicity. However, a closer look at ancient murals reveals a far more colorful wardrobe for these celestial beings. Historically, immortal attire drew inspiration from real-life clothing of specific dynasties, adorned with intricate accessories. For example, Dunhuang murals heavily influenced the costumes in The Long Ballad, incorporating Buddhist-inspired designs and vibrant color palettes. Authentic Chinese immortal garments trace their roots to Taoist art, such as Gu Kaizhi's Nymph of the Luo River or Wu Daozi's Eighty-Seven Immortals. The Chaoyuan Tu murals in Yongle Palace showcase lavish robes with wide sleeves, adorned with jade pendants and ornate headpieces—far removed from today's minimalist portrayals. These outfits followed Hanfu's foundational structure, layered with accessories like feathered capes and tasseled sashes. Modern xianfu (immortal-style costumes) blend traditional elements with theatrical flair—think sheer fabrics, ribbons, or even lace—to create a fairy-tale aesthetic. While visually striking, they differ markedly from historical references. Ultimately, whether…

Do you think ancient Chinese people didn't carry bags just because you rarely see them in TV dramas? Historical records clearly show that carrying bags has been a long-standing practice in China. In Liu Shishi's new period drama Kill My Sins, her character sports various bags with each outfit. Some netizens even counted one bag per costume! Where do you think ancient people kept their money? Did they really not carry bags? Don't get too obsessed with Liu Shishi's large and small bags in the show. In fact, we've had our own bags since ancient times, and many would be considered trendy even today. Archaeological discoveries repeatedly prove that fashion's ultimate inspiration comes from Huaxia (华夏) culture. A leather bag unearthed from Niya in Xinjiang, dating back to the Han-Jin period, stunned the world when it was revealed. It looked exactly like a modern saddle bag from a luxury brand - proving that this fashion trend existed over 1,600 years ago. This isn't an isolated case. Ancient Chinese had all kinds of bags: saddle bags, handbags, crossbody bags, waist bags, box evening bags, backpacks, net bags, underarm bags... These discoveries show remarkable similarities between ancient and modern fashion across a…

In the TV series Kill My Sins, Chen Jin portrays a sage inspired by Wu Zetian, but with minimal makeup and no elaborate hairstyles. Netizens have commented: So even emperors had no appearance anxiety! Traditionally, Wu Zetian has been depicted as a glamorous and noble figure in films and TV shows. Actresses like Liu Xiaoqing, Gui Yalei, Lü Zhong, Liu Jialing, and Fan Bingbing have all played her, either with towering hairdos adorned with ornate hairpins or, like Chen Jin, in simple round-collared robes and futou hats, exuding authority without effort. The Historical Appearance of Wu Zetian Wu Zetian was known for her beauty, but historical records describe her as having a square forehead and broad cheeks (fang e guang yi). According to the New Book of Tang, her daughter Princess Taiping shared these features, leading Wu Zetian to remark that her daughter resembled her. This look, sometimes exaggerated with sharp-angled sideburns, resembles what we now call a square-round face. Her image remains enigmatic. Most later depictions show her in cross-collared or round-collared robes, typical of the Tang Dynasty, paired with a fangxin quling neckpiece and a diguang crown. However, these portrayals often mix contemporary fashion elements, making them unreliable.…

The Court Ladies Adorning Their Hair with Flowers painting has inspired numerous costume dramas, including Dream of Splendor, National Beauty and Fragrance, and Peaceful Year. But how accurate are these adaptations? Let's delve into the authentic portrayal of court ladies from the Five Dynasties period. The Iconic Hairstyle and Its Origins The hairstyle seen in these dramas is inspired by the noblewomen depicted in Zhou Fang's (disputed authorship) Court Ladies Adorning Their Hair with Flowers. Characterized by towering buns adorned with hairpins and floral decorations, it exudes elegance. However, the clothing patterns and styles suggest a late Tang or Five Dynasties origin rather than the Tang Dynasty. Floral Patterns: Tang vs. Five Dynasties There's a noticeable difference between the floral patterns of the High Tang and late Tang/Five Dynasties. High Tang designs feature clustered, cohesive flowers, while late Tang/Five Dynasties styles are more scattered with paired flowers and leaves. This distinction helps date the painting to the late Tang or later. The Hairpin Flower Controversy Shen Congwen speculated that the prominent hairpin flowers might have been added by Song Dynasty artists. The painting shows women with loose, cloud - like hair adorned with golden hairpins, making the addition of large…

Recently, the lead actress's look in Princess Agents 2 was revealed, featuring Huang Yangdiantian wearing a double-loop hairstyle known as Shuang Huan Wang Xian Ji, adorned with golden Buyao (步摇) hairpins. Netizens commented that this might be the only look in the series that closely resembles the historical setting of the story. Although Princess Agents is a fictional tale, its backdrop is closest to the Northern Zhou Dynasty of the Northern and Southern Dynasties period, given the prominence of aristocratic families like the Yu Wen clan. During this era, Buyao hairpins were a symbol of status and nobility, which explains why fans are praising this particular look. Buyao is a general term for hair ornaments that sway with movement. It gained popularity among the upper class during the Han and Jin Dynasties, becoming a signature accessory for noblewomen. Historical texts like Shi Ming · Shi Shou Shi from the Han Dynasty describe Buyao as "hairpins with dangling pearls that sway with each step." The Hou Han Shu · Yu Fu Zhi also mentions Buyao as part of the empress's ceremonial attire. These ornaments varied in design, from standalone hairpins to elaborate crowns, often decorated with motifs like trees, flowers, leaves,…

Across the globe, gemstones are often valued for their beauty and rarity. However, in Chinese culture, certain gemstones hold an additional layer of significance, deeply rooted in the philosophy of the Five Elements. These elements – Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water – are fundamental to understanding Chinese cosmology and traditions. This article will explore the unique significance of the five gemstones associated with these elements. The Five Elements and Their Corresponding Gemstones The Wu Xing theory represents a complex web of relationships where elements generate and control one another in specific sequences. Each element corresponds to particular gemstones that channel its distinctive qualities and energies. These associations weren't arbitrary but developed through centuries of observation regarding the stones' physical properties, colors, and perceived energetic effects. 1. Wood Element and Green Stone In Chinese tradition, the Wood element symbolizes growth, vitality, and renewal, much like the energy of spring. It represents expansion, flexibility, and resilience, making it essential for fostering new beginnings. Green jade is the most revered gemstone associated with this element, often called the "stone of heaven." More valuable than gold in ancient China, jade’s smooth and durable nature embodies the Wood element’s strength and adaptability. It is…

Have you ever been puzzled by scenes in historical dramas like 'The Willow Boat' where characters debate whether 'Twelve Hairpins' are appropriate for a certain rank? Today, let's delve into the significance of these 'Twelve Hairpins'. A key term here is 'Huashu' (花树), which refers to floral hair ornaments. The practice of using the number of Huashu to denote rank began in the Sui and Tang dynasties, with the quantity corresponding to the wearer's status. Similarly, 'Dianchai' (钿钗), or jeweled hairpins, followed this system but were worn with different ceremonial attire. For example, the Tang Empress wore twelve Huashu (小花如大花之数，并两博鬓), while the Crown Princess wore nine. Noblewomen of various ranks wore between five and nine Huashu, adorned with precious jewels. These ornaments, made of delicate gold and silver petals, were prone to damage, which is why archaeological finds often reveal only fragments. Contrary to expectations, these 'flowers' sometimes included tiny figurines. One might wonder how noblewomen managed the weight and complexity of wearing so many ornaments. The ingenious solution was the 'Bijì' (蔽髻), a crown-like frame that could hold multiple Huashu clusters, simplifying the process of adorning one's hair. To secure the Bijì, two elaborately decorated long hairpins were inserted…

China's ancient murals tell stories beyond words—tales of gods and mortals, of cultural exchange along the Silk Road, and of imperial artistry at its finest. While these masterpieces are scattered across distant temples and caves, Beijing is now hosting an unprecedented convergence of the nation's most treasured mural art. For anyone with a love of history, color, and storytelling, this is an exhibition season not to be missed. When it comes to Chinese mural art, three sites stand above all others. The Dunhuang murals, covering the walls of the Mogao Caves (莫高窟), present a thousand-year visual chronicle of the Silk Road, where Buddhist, Persian, and Chinese influences intertwine in dazzling hues. The Yongle Palace (永乐宫) murals in Shanxi, home to the legendary Chaoyuan Tu (Pilgrimage of the Celestial Worthies诸神朝元图), represent the pinnacle of Daoist artistic expression, their figures alive with movement and grandeur. Finally, Fahai Temple (法海寺) in Beijing, though lesser-known, holds some of the most refined Ming Dynasty murals, created with the highest level of palace artistry. This year, for the first time, all three converge in Beijing through major exhibitions, offering a rare chance to appreciate these artistic treasures side by side. Fahai Temple: The Hidden Gem of…

Subverting Celestial Authority in Song Dynasty Art In the flickering candlelight of a 12th-century Song Dynasty workshop, an anonymous painter dipped his brush into vermilion pigment to depict a scene that would unsettle imperial censors for centuries. The resulting Soushan Tu (搜山图, Demon-Quelling Scroll), now preserved in the Palace Museum, Beijing, presents a cosmic paradox: heavenly soldiers with bulging eyes and twisted faces hunt down fox spirits wearing scholar robes, while weeping deer-women clutch their half-human infants. This 6-meter-long visual rebellion dismantles the myth of divine benevolence through deliberate symbolic inversion—a coded critique of power that still resonates today. The scroll's genius lies in its grotesque ambiguity. A boar-headed soldier drags a tree spirit by its roots, the latter's branches clawing at the air like skeletal hands. Nearby, a pheasant-winged celestial general raises a spiked mace over a cowering family of rabbit spirits, their human-like faces frozen in terror. These are not the clean moral binaries of temple murals, but a murky world where pursuer and prey mirror each other's monstrosity. The Yuan Dynasty zaju (杂剧, poetic drama) Erlang Shen Zui She Suomo Jing (二郎神醉射锁魔镜, The Drunken Erlang Shen Shoots the Demon-Sealing Mirror) provides textual counterparts to these haunting images.…

In the midst of London's bustling underground, commuters may stumble upon something unexpected—Chinese poetry. Among the verses that quietly accompany passengers through their daily commutes is a piece by the renowned poet Bei Dao (北岛): I am you a stranger on the sidetracks Waiting for the season to harvest blades of light Sending letters though tomorrow has no address This excerpt comes from Bei Dao's latest autobiographical long poem, The Crossroads Journey (歧路行). It has recently been selected for Poems on the Underground, a project founded by writer Judith Chernaik at University College London. The initiative places poetry—both classic and contemporary, from poets worldwide—inside the city's subway carriages, offering a moment of reflection amid the urban rush. Poetry Beneath the Streets According to the Transport for London website, displaying poetry in the Underground aims to make commutes more uplifting and inspiring. Over the years, the project has featured works from well-known literary figures and emerging voices alike. The selected poems are not just displayed on trains but have also been compiled into a published collection, Poems on the Underground. Bei Dao's presence in the Underground is not new. In the 1980s, his poem Drawing (画), written for his daughter, Tian…

When Xu Tiantian (徐甜甜) became the first Chinese architect to win the Wolf Prize in Arts in 2025, the global architecture community turned its gaze eastward. Her triumph, closely following Liu Jiakun's (刘家琨) 2025 Pritzker Prize win, marks a watershed moment: China's "site-specific architecture" movement is no longer a regional phenomenon but a blueprint for global architectural paradigms Xu's transformation of a 1,500-year-old Zhejiang quarry into the ethereal Huangyan Grotto Theater (黄岩窟艺术剧场)—where visitors now traverse suspended walkways past Ming Dynasty carvings to attend avant-garde performances—epitomizes this shift. Similarly, Liu's West Village Complex in Chengdu, a labyrinthine concrete ecosystem buzzing with street food vendors, skateboarders, and pop-up galleries, reimagines urban space as a living organism rather than a static monument. These projects defy the starchitect era's obsession with iconic silhouettes, instead prioritizing what Liu calls “architecture as social acupuncture”—a philosophy now resonating from Burkina Faso to Buenos Aires. The Three Codes of "Genius Loci" Design Cultural Palimpsests, Not Copy-Paste Heritage The duo's work transcends superficial "Chinoiserie." At Liu's Suzhou Imperial Kiln Museum, Ming Dynasty ruins emerge like fossilized dragons from cast-concrete walls. Xu's Zhejiang Shicheng Music Hall, carved into a cliffside where dynastic stonemasons once labored, uses algorithmically optimized steel frames…

Spring, the most poetic artist of all, wields its brush to paint the earth with vibrant colors. If you step into a museum, you might be surprised to find that the artifacts on display also seem to exude the fresh breath of spring.But how did ancient people preserve the beauty of spring? The Green Glassware with Gold Embellishments This collection of lù bó lí (绿玻璃, green glass) dining ware isn't just for feasts—it's practically a limited-edition "Spring Special" art piece. Each item is exquisitely crafted, blending functionality with aesthetics. Take the small oil bottle, for instance. Its slender, graceful silhouette resembles a lady draped in elegant robes. The translucent material gleams softly under the light, reflecting a harmony of colors—refreshing blue, understated white, and luxurious gold. The color combination is effortlessly sophisticated. The small dish is equally mesmerizing. Delicate floral patterns stretch along the edges like winding vines, intertwining with intricate geometric designs at the center. Holding it in your hands, you can almost feel the refined beauty of ancient lifestyles. And then there's the candle stand—a glowing "jade pillar" that embodies the pinnacle of Qīng Dài (清代, Qing Dynasty) craftsmanship. The large plate has a minimalist base, encircled by…

In the TV series A Love So Beautiful, the "Xian Dian" (仙钿) became the lifelong pursuit of many little fairies. The character played by Cheng Yi even achieved the transformation between immortal and demon identities by switching the marks between his eyebrows of different colors and shapes. Taking a closer look, isn't this "Xian Dian" just the Huadian (花钿) in traditional makeup? In most ancient - costume dramas, the classic "red dot between the eyebrows" often appears. These Huadian between the eyebrows are truly amazing. Not only women, but also more and more male characters in various popular ancient - costume TV dramas are using all kinds of Huadian. Even in many fairy - tale dramas, in order to distinguish status, derivatives such as "Xian Dian" for immortals ascending the immortal rank and "Asura marks" have emerged. In the game Black Myth: Wukong, the forehead of the spider spirit is also decorated with different Huadian. Huadian may also be an inherited mark. Different Huadian can be designed according to personal characteristics. Although the usage of Huadian in movies and TV shows is also strange, the facial makeup decorated with Huadian actually has a bit of classical charm. Where Does Huadian…

As someone deeply passionate about historical clothing and accessories, people often ask me: "Does your knowledge of ancient fashion ruin your enjoyment of period dramas?" The answer is—quite the opposite! In fact, it adds another layer of enjoyment, turning each viewing into a treasure hunt for accurate details (or amusing anachronisms). Take "Nirvana in Fire 2" (琅琊榜之风起长林), for example. The series boasts stunning visuals, but as I watched, I couldn't help but notice a curious detail—the jewelry worn by characters like Empress Xun (荀皇后) and the Grand Lady of Laiyang (莱阳太夫人) bore striking similarities to Ming Dynasty designs. However, their application in the drama was... unconventional, to say the least. It appears that the production team sourced historically inspired pieces but missed the mark on how they were actually worn. Filigree Gold Phoenix Hairpins One of the most eye-catching pieces worn by Empress Xun is a set of three gold phoenix hairpins (累丝嵌宝石金凤簪). These exquisite accessories have a real-life counterpart: they are modeled after jewelry unearthed from Ming Dynasty imperial tombs in the western suburbs of Beijing. These tombs, unfortunately looted and excavated long ago, left behind only fragments of their once-lavish burial artifacts, yet what remains showcases remarkable craftsmanship.…

Bringing Ancient Skills Back to Life The inheritor of 'Yu's Floss Flowers', Yu Hui, uses her dexterous hands and passion to revive this millennium - old skill. In the courtyard of Building 25, Xingguo Road, Yongping Road Community, Xinghua Road Sub - district, Licang District, everyone knows Yu Hui. In her home, there are many exquisite floss flower works, each lifelike and full of unique charm. Yu Hui has breathed new life into the ancient art of floss flower making. Family Heritage Yu Hui, 46 years old this year, was introduced to floss flowers in her childhood. Her ancestors were court floss flower craftsmen in the late Qing Dynasty, and the family skill has been passed down for generations. The sight of her grandmother making ornaments made her fall in love with floss flowers. When she grew up, she actively asked the elders to teach her. Although it was tough, she mastered the essence and realized that only by infusing her heart could the floss flowers come alive. During the inheritance process, she found that some traditional techniques were missing and had to figure them out through practice. Adhering to the Craftsmanship With the passage of time, the floss flower…

How a Brush Transforms Glass into Art In the quiet corners of Zibo (淄博) City's Boshan District, Shandong Province, an 81-year-old master named Zhang Guangzhong bends over a worktable, his hands steady as he guides a hair-thin brush through the narrow mouth of a snuff bottle. Inside this "bean-sized" aperture, mythical beasts gallop across miniature landscapes, and 500 arhats (Buddhist saints) gather in silent contemplation—all painted in reverse. This is the elusive craft of Lupai Neihua (鲁派内画), or Shandong-style inner-bottle painting, a national intangible cultural heritage that turns humble glass vessels into portals to China's artistic soul. For Zhang, this ritual is more than a vocation—it's a lifelong meditation. Since 1964, when he joined Boshan Art Glass Factory's inner-bottle painting division, he has spent over 60 years refining his technique under masters like Zhang Wentang and Xue Jingwan. Unlike Western miniature painters who work on flat surfaces, Lupai artists must visualize their compositions backward, their brushstrokes defying gravity as they paint on the inner walls of bottles. The tools themselves are marvels: custom-made brushes with curved bamboo handles and resilient weasel-hair bristles, designed to navigate the glass labyrinth. Zhang's works, such as Hundred Beasts and Five Hundred Arhats, are celebrated…

On March 10, 2024, Beijing's China Craft & Art Museum and China Intangible Cultural Heritage Museum unveiled their most ambitious showcase yet: the 7th China Contemporary Craft Art Biennale. Titled "Epochal Ingenuity", the exhibition spotlights over 720 pieces of contemporary craftsmanship—from intricate jade carvings to avant-garde glass sculptures—crafted by 809 artisans across 31 provinces. Walking through the galleries, visitors encounter a bronze teapot etched with AI-generated fractal patterns, silk embroideries depicting urban skylines, and lacquerware fused with recycled tech components. One standout piece: a ceramic installation by 38-year-old artist Zhang Yue, who reimagined Tang Dynasty tri-color glazes using 3D-printed textures to critique digital-age isolation. Who's Shaping China's Craft Renaissance The biennale's roster reads like a who's who of China's creative vanguard: National Heritage Guardians: Like 72-year-old Su Xiu master Yao Huifen, whose embroidered scroll "A Thousand Threads of the Yangtze" took three years to complete. Provincial Innovators: Such as Yunnan's Li Jia, who blends Bai ethnic tie-dye with neon pigments for psychedelic wall hangings. Academic Pioneers: Tsinghua University's Prof. Wang Lin leads a team experimenting with nanotech-infused cloisonné. Notably, 45% of exhibitors are under 40—a shift from previous editions. Jiangsu-based metalworker Chen Hao, 28, exemplifies this new wave. His series…

In the words of a 9th-century Dunhuang scribe: "The winds of the Silk Road may fade, but the dance of the mural endures." Let Silk Road’s timeless tales stroke you like the Flower Rain. A Dance That Transcends Time When the curtain rises on Silk Road Flower Rain (丝路花雨), audiences are not merely watching a performance—they are stepping into history. For 45 years, this groundbreaking dance drama has enchanted the world, weaving together the artistry of Dunhuang's (敦煌) murals, the spirit of the Silk Road, and the universal language of human connection. As it prepares to grace the stage of Guangzhou's Friendship Theatre on April 18–19, 2024, the production reaffirms its status as a cultural titan, one that breathes life into ancient tales. Since its 1979 debut in Lanzhou, Silk Road Flower Rain has transcended borders, performing over 4,000 times across 40 countries, from the grand theaters of Paris to the historic stages of Kyoto. Its accolades—"the living Dunhuang murals (敦煌壁画)," "China's answer to Swan Lake"—speak to its unparalleled fusion of myth, movement, and music. At its heart lies a story as old as the Silk Road itself: the bond between a Dunhuang painter, Shen Bi Zhang (神笔张); his daughter…

For centuries, studies of Yuan (1271–1368), Ming (1368–1644), and Qing (1644–1912) dynasty art have orbited around Wenrenhua (literati painting), a genre dominated by scholar-officials who fused poetry, calligraphy, and ink landscapes. While masterpieces by iconic figures like Ni Zan or Wang Meng remain celebrated, this narrow focus has flattened our understanding of China's visual culture. How did literati painting ascend to dominance? What role did court commissions or commercial workshops play? And where do female artists and cross-cultural exchanges fit into this narrative? In Chinese Painting: Yuan to Qing (中国绘画：元至清)—the final volume of his groundbreaking trilogy—art historian Wu Hung (巫鸿) dismantles these entrenched hierarchies. By weaving dynastic timelines with layered analyses of materials, regional networks, and social ecosystems, he resurrects a vibrant scene of artistic production. At a recent Beijing forum co-hosted by The Beijing News and Shanghai-based publisher Horizon Media, Wu joined Huang Xiaofeng (黄小峰), a Central Academy of Fine Arts professor, to discuss how this "three-dimensional" approach revives overlooked voices. Below are highlights from their conversation. Rethinking the Grand Narrative The very act of writing a history of Chinese painting is, in itself, a daunting task. As Wu points out, the sources available to us today are vastly…

If one could time-travel back to the bustling streets of the Song Dynasty, the most astonishing sight might not be the vibrant marketplaces or the lively entertainment districts, but rather the mesmerizing artistry found in everyday food. Vendors pushed wooden carts filled with lifelike fruit confections), crafting stunning edible illusions. Among these, the smiling face snacks stood out—honey-glazed plum slices carved into smiling female faces, with dried peaches as blushing cheeks and almonds as delicate teeth. These delicate creations often prompted literati to pause and compose verses, likening the treats to well-crafted smiles. At the grand feasts of the capital's famed establishments, culinary creativity reached new heights. The spectacle of pavilion desserts amazed onlookers: dough tinted with locust flower juice formed gray-tiled roofs, malt sugar spun into intricate railings, and date paste molded into miniature rock formations. Green bean jelly shimmered like a pond's surface, while delicate layers of green bean powder mimicked mossy textures. These microcosmic landscapes were not only admired but also eaten with ceremony—at one banquet, guests were instructed to first drink three cups of wine before disassembling the meandering stream pavilion by consuming its sugar pillars. Poetic Bites: Where Literature Meets Cuisine The rise of symbolic…

The Art of Tea Reimagined In the misty foothills of China's Sichuan province, a father-daughter duo is rewriting the rules of cultural preservation—one bamboo-wrapped teacup at a time. At Chongzhou's Intangible Cultural Heritage Park, a groundbreaking fusion of Daoming bamboo weaving (a 1,200-year-old craft) and Dehua porcelain (from Fujian's "China White" ceramic tradition) has birthed the viral "Panda Embracing Bamboo" tea set . Bai Jingbo, 52, the mastermind behind the design, explains: "The challenge was to make a 1,200-year-old tea ritual resonate with Gen-Z." His solution? A porcelain core fired at 1,320°C, sheathed in bamboo strips from 2-3-year-old ci bamboos—chosen for their flexibility and 120MPa tensile strength . Each cup undergoes 32 precise weaving steps, transforming rigid bamboo into undulating "water ripple" patterns that cradle the porcelain like a second skin. The pièce de résistance is the panda motif: traditional ink-wash paintings of pandas clutching bamboo stalks are kiln-fired onto the porcelain, creating a dialogue between Sichuan's ecological identity and its craft heritage . Three Generations, One Vision This project thrives on a cross-generational alliance: - Yang Yong, 68, a Chongzhou shadow puppet master, sketches initial panda designs using centuries-old ink techniques . - Bai Jingbo translates these into ceramic…

If you ever find yourself at the National Museum of China and notice a long queue forming, chances are visitors are eagerly waiting to catch a glimpse of one of the most exquisite artifacts of the Ming Dynasty—the Nine-Dragon and Nine-Phoenix Crown. This imperial masterpiece, once adorning the head of Empress Dowager Xiaoduan, has captured the fascination of history enthusiasts and cultural aficionados alike. Recently, the museums exclusive line of merchandise, inspired by this legendary crown, has set the internet abuzz. Among these, a meticulously crafted refrigerator magnet has gained viral status, merging traditional opulence with modern collectibles. Fortunately for admirers, the museum has now opened online reservations for the coveted item, sparing visitors the need for an early morning queue. The Nine-Dragon and Nine-Phoenix Crown was unearthed in 1957 from the underground chambers of the Ming Dingling Mausoleum in Beijing, resting alongside other stunning imperial headpieces. The tomb housed four intricately designed crowns: the Three-Dragon and Two-Phoenix Crown, the Nine-Dragon and Nine-Phoenix Crown, the Twelve-Dragon and Nine-Phoenix Crown, and the Six-Dragon and Three-Phoenix Crown. Among these, the Nine-Dragon and Nine-Phoenix Crown, once worn by Empress Dowager Xiaoduan, stands out as a symbol of regal sophistication. Its significance is so…

In 2024, China's Ministry of Human Resources and Social Security officially recognized Cultural Creative Product Planning and Operations Specialist as a new profession. At the forefront of this movement is Zeng Zhou, a 90s-born visionary transforming ancient artifacts into playful, market-savvy cultural icons. From enigmatic Sanxingdui bronzes to Chengdu's stone rhinos, Zeng's creations bridge millennia-old traditions with today's pop culture, proving that history can be both educational and irresistibly cool. Gaming Designer and Innovator Zeng Zhou's journey began with a passion for pop culture collectibles. Growing up surrounded by anime figurines and movie memorabilia, he noticed a gap in the market: few products celebrated China's own rich history. "I loved Marvel action figures, but I wondered—where are our stories?" he recalls. This realization drove him to pivot from his career in game design to pursue cultural innovation. In 2018, a visit to the Sanxingdui Museum in Sichuan sparked a breakthrough. The museum's enigmatic bronze relics, such as the Sacred Bronze Tree and Zoomorphic Masks, captivated Zeng. "The masks' exaggerated eyes felt almost anime to me," he says. This observation led him to reimagine these artifacts through a contemporary lens. By merging the solemnity of 3,000-year-old bronzes with whimsical "chibi" (super-deformed)…

China's rich cultural history has long been a source of inspiration for the performing arts, with historical figures brought to life on stage through dance, opera, and theater. In recent years, a renewed interest in the stories of legendary Chinese women has sparked the creation of innovative productions that blend traditional aesthetics with modern storytelling techniques. Two recent theatrical masterpieces—the dance drama Eighteen Songs of a Nomad Flute (Hu Jia Shi Ba Pai胡笳十八拍) and the newly adapted Yue opera (越剧) The Wind Rolls Up the Curtain (Lian Juan Xi Feng帘卷西风)—have captivated audiences across China. These productions not only showcase the artistic brilliance of Chinese performance arts but also offer deep insights into the resilience spirit of Chinese literary women. Hu Jia Shi Ba Pai: A Dance Drama of Loss and Longing Few figures in Chinese history evoke as much poetic sorrow as Cai Wenji (177–250 AD), a brilliant poet and musician who lived during the tumultuous late Eastern Han dynasty. Kidnapped by Xiongnu nomads and held in captivity for twelve years, she ultimately returned to China, leaving behind her two children. Her most famous literary work, Eighteen Songs of a Nomad Flute, is a heart-wrenching lament that expresses her grief,…