By Suvendrini Kakuchi
BEIJING, Apr 20 1999 (IPS)

Chairman Mao smiles benevolently at well- dressed young Chinese men and women sipping cocktails and munching popcorn at Public Space, one of several trendy drinking places that dot Sanliun, or bar street, in Beijing’s chic diplomatic area.

Except for the portrait of China’s communist leader, who frowned upon all personal indulgence as corrupt and bourgeois practise, there is nothing to remind bar patrons of Mao’s old socialist ideology that dominated the country until 20 years ago.

As the small groups of well-heeled Chinese strolling down bar street indicate, China’s commitment to market reforms and the “decadent” ideas of the West is thriving.

This is perhaps better observed among the richer sectors of the public, but still a way of life that indicates a dramatic transformation of not too long ago in mainland China.

“During the communist days, late nights were unthinkable,” says a young Chinese waitress in one bar. Donned in a deep red silk Chinese blouse, she says she works here to improve her English and to earn more money than she would at a regular restaurant.

Even the small drawing of Mao, which serves as a discreet accent piece on one of the buttercup yellow walls of dimly-lit Public Space, has gotten quite a sprucing up.

Rather than a plain simple portrait, the picture glistens because it is mounted against a backdrop of metallic green and silver paper, a design copied no doubt to keep up with the bar’s fashionable interior — windows painted a vivid blue and the ceiling, a fashionably subtle grey.

“I love working here,” says Michael, 23, a Chinese youth dressed in sophisticated black, who joined when the bar opened in 1995. He spends his evenings as a disc jockey at the bar catering to the varied musical tastes of the clientele: “I get lost listening to the latest jazz,

Down the road is another well-patronised bar, Jazz Ya, run by a Japanese musician and his Chinese partner who poured in around 54,000 U.S. dollars for its interiors and don’t regret a penny.

The place opened five years ago and Japanese owner Hideaki Yasuda, 31, says, the business turnover is around 180,000 dollars annually. “Our clients consist of 40 percent local Chinese who are usually young people who work in joint ventures and some who just come to listen to the music,” he explains.

Zang Tran Shuo, who drives an American Cherokee jeep and drinks Glen Fiddenish whisky, is a rock musician and frequent customer who says he values today’s freedoms.

In the old days, “rock music was something you only listened to at home because it was forbidden to be played on the radio or television. Now its the total opposite,” he says.

At the same time, Shuo says young Chinese are keen to learn from the West but are aware of the dangers of blind imitation. “We want the good things from the West, like good music and coffee. After that, we will do it our way,” he grins.

Bar owners also vouch for Beijing’s capitalist reforms. “Really, there is absolutely no problem to set-up a business in Beijing,” says Yasuda. “We rarely have the police call and believe it or not, import taxes on foreign liquor is cheaper here than in Tokyo.”

Henry Lee, the 38-year-old owner of Public Space, returned to China after migrating to Australia in 1985. “I was manager of Hyatt Hotel over there, but decided, especially because I missed my country so much, to return and take advantage of the new business climate at home,” he says.

He believes his business is doing well because the younger generation is eager to get to know the West and meet foreigners for an exchange of ideas. “Public Space, for instance, is not a seedy bar for pick-ups, but a place where youth can meet to talk and discuss new ideas with each other and their foreign friends,” he says.

Indeed, while the bars epitomise Beijing’s rapidly changing lifestyles, they have also become invaluable exhibition venues for China’s emerging artists.

Under Communist rule artists seeking individual expression suffocated under strict censorship rules that only gave the green light to pieces that lionised revolutionary martyrs. But as the ever-changing exhibits at Forbidden Tree, another pub-style bar, attests, China’s reform movement has encouraged daring new artists who are now coming out in droves.

Large oil canvases, combining dramatic slashes of red, blue and other colours, represent the work of Hei Yang, a young abstract painter whose works are exhibited at the bar.

Each painting is sold for around 100 dollars and Forbidden Tree’s Belgium-born co-owner Katrien Costenoble says the buyers are mostly foreign.

“Most young artists cannot afford the usual galleries, so bars down the street offer them space and foreign customers,” she says.

Costenoble started the bar in June 1996 with a Chinese scriptwriter who convinced her of the need for such a place for Chinese artists.

“The authorities turn a blind eye despite what the bars symbolise – loud music, late evenings, and drink – everything that represents the wicked West,” she explains. “The logic behind this is the taxes we pay, which has become an important source of revenue for the Chinese government.”

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