DEDICATION

Nestled against the mountainous edge of the Chengdu plains in southwest China,

the rural township of Mianzhu 􀫥􁇰, Sichuan lies roughly 150 kilometers north of

Chengdu, the provincial capital. Reflecting about thirty years of steady urbanization,

Mianzhu is a work in progress, with small farming communities interspersed with hightech

factories, unfinished development projects, and scattered billboards announcing

future construction. The urban core is a complex web of historic cobblestone alleys

pressed against wide boulevards and sleek shopping centers (fig. 1). I visited Mianzhu

several times in 2006 and 2007 to study its historic nianhua woodblock printing and

painting industry, which has thrived there since the Song dynasty period (960-1279 CE).

Although the existing literature on the topic tends to characterize nianhua as a thing of

the past, I soon discovered that Mianzhu’s nianhua industry is very much alive and

growing rapidly. Reflecting the thick palimpsest of old and new spaces in the region,

Mianzhu’s nianhua now appear in variety of rather incongruous contexts - as ritual

ephemera displayed on the doors and walls of local households but also as folk art objects

found in gift shops, museums, or touristic heritage attractions.

The term nianhua 􀭍􀟂, commonly translated as “New Year Pictures,” refers to a

broad range of popular prints and paintings produced in the many historic woodblockprinting

centers across China. The works are most visible during the Lunar New Year

season, when mass quantities of nianhua circulate through markets and households.

Inexpensive and ephemeral, these are annually renewed on household doorways, walls,

and windows, a widespread act of renewal that coincides with a rich repertoire of ritual

practices tied to the “passing of the year” 􀝖􀭍􀀏 However, the term nianhua also

encompasses many temporary and permanent works consumed throughout the year for

seasonal festivals, life-cycle rituals, gift giving, and popular religion.

Making and using nianhua has made a tremendous comeback all across China

since the early 1980s, yet the existing scholarship has characterized it as a tradition that

has disappeared or is on the verge of disappearing. Art historians Wang Shucun 􀺦􀶎􀕨

and Bo Songnian 􀐊􀶾􀭍, the foremost authorities on the topic, have each written a

comprehensive history of Chinese nianhua, which they define as a type of “folk art” 􀫶􀡗

􁁜􀶌 produced in regional woodblock printing centers. The notion of “folk” refers to the

non-official realm, so that “folk art” is distinguished from official art. In both texts, the

authors recount the “golden age” of nianhua in the late nineteenth century and its rapid

decline in the early twentieth century. The decline is attributed to mechanized printing

technologies introduced from the West and a slew of state-led print reforms carried out

by the Republican state in the 1910s and 1920s, and again by the Communist government

during the 1950s and early 1960s.1 For Wang and Bo, the state’s rigorous circumscription

of local printing activities in the 1950s marked “the end of nianhua as a folk custom,” as

it is no longer possible to distinguish between the non-official and official realms.2 If

there were any surviving vestiges of traditional nianhua, the Cultural Revolution (1966-

1976) dealt the final blow, with the official ban on nianhua as a form of “feudal

superstition.” This narrative of nianhua’s spectacular rise and fall from roughly the mid-

1 Wang Shucun 􀺦􀶎􀕨, Zhongguo nianhua shi 􁇏􀝓􀭍􀟂􀵎 [Chinese nianhua history] (Beijing: Beijing

gongyi meishu chubanshe, 2002), and Bo Songnian 􀐊􀶾􀭍, Zhongguo nianhua shi 􁇏􀝓􀭍􀟂􀵎 [Chinese

nianhua history] (Shenyang: Liaoning meishu chubanshe, 1986).

2 Wang, Chinese Nianhua History, 290.

nineteenth to the mid-twentieth centuries is also widely repeated in the Western

scholarship, which builds on the foundational writings by Wang and Bo.3

A key problem here is that the existing scholarship has relied primarily on the

historic nianhua archives collected in the north and east, near the urban centers of Beijing

and Shanghai. Prior to the early twentieth century, there were very few efforts to collect

and preserve nianhua, which were mostly designed for temporary use in a variety of

ritual practices. Early twentieth-century Christian missionary scholars and Sinologists

were among the first to collect large quantities of popular prints and paintings.4 These

pioneering Orientalists brought their own ideological agendas to the task and collected

many works from the street markets of Beijing and Shanghai, where they had access to

the everyday objects of the common people. During the 1950s print reforms, state

supported research activities spurred more collection activities, with many nianhua

entering into state archives around the nation.5 At this time, Wang Shucun and Bo

Songnian established their careers as leading folk art historians based in Beijing and put

together some of the most extensive collections of Chinese nianhua. As both scholars are

3 Key examples that deal specifically with this timeframe include Tanya McIntyre, Chinese New Year

Pictures: The Process of Modernization, 1842-1942, (PhD diss., University of Melbourne, 1997), and

James Flath, The Cult of Happiness: Nianhua, Art, and History in Rural North China (Vancouver:

University of British Columbia Press, 2004).

4 The earliest efforts to collect nianhua include studies by French Sinologist Eduoard Chavannes and his

student V. M. Alekseev, a Russian Sinologist whose research on nianhua have been published in V. M.

Alekseev, The Chinese Gods of Wealth: a lecture delivered at the School of Oriental Studies, University of

London, 26th of March 1926 (London: School of Oriental Studies and The China Society, 1928), and V.M.

Alekseev, Maria Rudova, and L.N Menshikov, Chinese Popular Prints (Aurora Art Publishers, 1988).

These works were soon followed by the writings of missionary scholars interested in printed depictions of

Chinese popular religion, including Henri Dore’s Researches in Chinese Superstition (1914-38), Clarence

Burton Day’s Chinese Peasant Cults (Shanghai, 1940; repr., Taipei: Ch’eng Wen Publishing Co., 1974),

and Anne Goodrich’s Peking Paper Gods: A Look at Home Worship (Nettetal: Steyler Verlag, 1991). The

German-American Sinologist Berthold Laufer also collected a significant number of nianhua during his

1901-1904 China Expedition; these works are now held in the American Museum of Natural History in

New York.

5 For in-depth discussions of the Communist’s 1950s print reform activities see Chang-tai Hung,

“Repainting China: New Year Prints (Nianhua) and Peasant Resistance in the Early Years of the People's

Republic,” Comparative Studies in Society and History 42, no.4 (2000): 779-810.

based in northern China, their nianhua collections and writings also tend to reflect the

historical developments of that region.

Thus far, no in-depth studies have been conducted on the rapid recovery of the

nianhua industry after the Cultural Revolution, although there have been official

campaigns to “revive” and “rescue” nianhua as part of China’s “folk art heritage”􀫶􀡗􁁜

􀶌􁁌􀓁􀀏 Relaxed policies around cultural production coupled with the state-led revival of

the industry has spurred the revitalization of several well-known nianhua centers in

China, including Mianzhu in Sichuan, Yangliuqing near Tianjin, Wuqiang in Shandong,

and Zhuxianzhen in Henan.6 While many have dismissed these developments as another

round of state restrictions tied to the reinvention of tradition, I will argue that the situation

is far more complicated than a restaging of traditional practices.7

The rise of Mianzhu’s nianhua industry departs dramatically from the

development of the print centers of the north and east, lending significance to this case

study. The historic records and contemporary print practices in Mianzhu debunk the

notion that nianhua is a dead or dying tradition completely overtaken by official activities.

The evidence points to a vibrant and thriving body of printing and painting activities that

did not simply disappear, but continue to evolve in tandem with the changing conditions

of everyday life, adapting and developing alongside the prolonged periods of print reform

as well as the outright ban on nianhua. This is documented in the interviews, photos, and

collected nianhua archives held in state institutions and collected during the 1950s and

6 State-funded nianhua museums have been spreading across China, with the first built in Wuqiang, Hebei

in 1985, followed by Mianzhu’s Nianhua Museum in 1996, the Tianjin Yangliuqing Nianhua Museum

renovation in 2011, and shortly thereafter the Zhuxianzhen Nianhua Museum in Henan.

7 A recent essay by Bo Songnian reiterates the demise of nianhua at the hands of failed state-led revival

activities and commercial printing practices since the early 1980s. Bo Songnian, “Xingshuai cunwang

zhongde nianhua yishu” 􀾖􀶚􀕩􀺧􁇏􀖥􀭍􀟂􁁜􀶌􀀁[The Rise, Fall, Preservation, and Loss of Nianhua Art] Art

Observation 􀫅􀶌􀜴􀒳 2 (2005): 8-10.

early 1960s print reform movements. In reading against the grain of this material, I found

compelling evidence that Mianzhu’s nianhua industry was not completely stifled under

state controls. In this study, I draw on firsthand observations and interviews with

contemporary nianhua makers and users to reveal the close ties between the nianhua

industry and the “living history” of the region including such customs as theatrical

storytelling, the sharing of auspicious speech, fengshui activities, and lineage-making

practices.

While the scholarly literature on nianhua focuses on archived materials of the

mid-nineteenth to mid-twentieth centuries, this study makes its contribution by

examining contemporary nianhua as they appear in situ, seamlessly integrated with

cycles of production, circulation, and consumption. Thus far, the methodology for

archival research has focused predominantly on issues of production and representation.

In the influential nianhua history by Bo Songnian for instance, a central unifying feature

of nianhua is its attributed power “to attract the auspicious, repel the portentous” (􀱴􀠝􀑅

􀾢 or 􀱺􀽻􀬬􀚞), a concept that is visually conveyed through “artistic” and “aesthetic”

means.8 Bo accordingly interprets a wide variety of works by decoding the representation

of auspicious signs, symbols, or motifs. In treating nianhua as the visual texts of a shared

iconographic system, the tendency has been to characterize nianhua as a rather rigid and

unchanging tradition with timeless designs. In a joint study, Bo Songnian and Sinologist

David Johnson have stressed a community’s rigid adherence to established nianhua

iconographies: “presumably once a god’s iconography had been fixed, some devotees

rejected any but the smallest changes in it, much as village women balked at changes in

8 Bo,􀀁 Chinese Nianhua History, 1-5.

funeral rituals.”9 They go on to explain how print shops had little motivation to introduce

change because of “perennial favorites” in the marketplace and the costly price of making

new designs that might be rejected by customers. Furthermore, the collective production

process itself is framed as conformist in nature: “ when block carvers did have to make a

new design, they frequently relied on pattern books, which by definition preserved older

styles.”10

An important departure from the folk art paradigm is a recent study by historian

James Flath, who focuses on the popular prints of rural north China of the late nineteenth

and early twentieth centuries. 11 Flath situates nianhua as “print culture,” which he

summarily defines as “a means of understanding the world through print” that includes

the physical dimension of “producing, disseminating, obtaining, displaying, and reading

print” as well as a social dimension where “print culture is the abstraction of the world

created by the repeated and systematic application of ink to paper, and the penetration

and transformation of social relations by print.”12 In his effort to write a “cultural history”

of rural northern China, Flath draws attention to the active role of nianhua within various

social and political discourses tied to modernity, domesticity, nation building, and

gender. In short, Flath resituates nianhua as a historical text rather than a distinctly visual

one, to examine how “perceptions of the social and physical world were put into print,

and how print, in turn, configured perceptions of the social and ethical world.”13

Flath’s approach provides an important foundation for this present study,

9 Bo Songnian and David Johnson, Domesticated Deities and Auspicious Emblems (Berkeley: University of

California Press, 1993), 17.

10 Ibid., 18.

11 James Flath’s Cult of Happiness: Nianhua Art, and History in Rural North China focuses on the print

centers in Shandong, Hebei, and Henan provinces.

12 Ibid., 2.

13 Ibid., 4.

especially in pushing beyond the purely aesthetic or artistic aspects of nianhua and in

acknowledging the regional specificities of the industry. However, in focusing on issues

of production and representation, Flath makes the central argument that “the single most

important aspect of the village-based print industry was that it engaged in prescriptive

mass production–a process by which a uniform object was collectively produced using a

defined set of tools and techniques and in deference to collectively defined social

values.”14 Flath expands this view to include the realm of consumption as well, where the

“prescriptive ethic was carried by nianhua through markets and into the homes of their

consumers.”15 Picking up on Bo and Johnson’s argument, this prescriptive view reflects

the widely held consensus that nianhua are the mass produced products of a traditional

social system that resisted creative agency and change.

This study will press for an alternate perspective that acknowledges the

innovative aspects of the nianhua industry, which has continuously developed and

adapted to the changing conditions of the marketplace. Existing studies have focused on

the print centers in the north, where multi-block printing techniques prevailed as a

common method for applying multiple layers of color to a print.16 In Mianzhu however,

the colors and finishing details of a print are all applied by hand with a brush (fig. 2).

Whereas a prescriptive approach might be an appropriate description of a multi-block

printing process, Mianzhu’s workshops display variation and experimentation in

brushwork, especially in the final stages of painting in the colors, surface outlines, and

facial details. Neither collective nor individual forms of authorship can be easily used to

characterize Mianzhu’s workshops, as both concepts are simultaneously deployed.

14 Ibid.

15 Ibid., 32.

16 For a discussion of the multi-block color printing process, Ibid.,18-20.

Historic records describe the signature traits of individual master designers, carvers,

printers, and painters as well as the unique skills of a workshop as a whole.17

Since Flath’s notion of “print culture” focuses solely on the particular medium of

print, it is perhaps more fitting to describe Mianzhu nianhua as a “print and painting

culture.” In both the past and present, Mianzhu’s printmakers have been motivated to

come up with novel designs and fresh production methods to survive in a competitive and

sometimes hostile marketplace. This has carried forth in Mianzhu’s nianhua industry

today, where experienced and emerging nianhua producers jockey for status and

authority in the marketplace by innovating works on a regular basis. Using a variety of

creative marketing tactics, Mianzhu’s nianhua makers are also continually performing

the auspicious or portentous meanings tied to their products. This involves the strategic

use of propitious sites such as shrines or temples to set up outdoor markets and the

selection of favorable dates of the lunar calendar to conduct business activities.

The processes of experimentation and appropriation are not only aspects of

nianhua production, but also evident in the evolving modes of consumption and display.

The preoccupation with auspicious time and space is evident in the diverse configurations

of household nianhua displays, which are strategically arranged and renewed to protect

vulnerable passageways and to activate positive interactions in the home. The most

widely seen works are protective “door deities” 􀫊􀴪 posted on the exterior of household

doors to guard the home from all negative influences. These are usually balanced with

“spring couplets” 􀔽􀧳 on either side, two vertical strips of paper with auspicious phrases

17 For a list of the established names and workshops in Mianzhu’s historical print trade, see Hou Shiwu 􀞥

􀵗􀻳 and Liu Zhumei 􀨾􁇰􀪼, Mianzhu nianhua gailun 􀀁􀫥􁇰􀭍􀟂􀛀􀪂􀀁[Introduction to Mianzhu’s nianhua]

in Mianzhu nianhua jingpin ji 􀫥􁇰􀭍􀟂􀣚􀯖􀠢 [Selected works of Mianzhu nianhua], ed. Hou Rong 􀞥􀲴

(Chengdu: Sichuan meishu chubanshe, 2005): 11-17.

inscribed on them. A third strip with an auspicious phrase often hangs above the center of

the door as a “lintel hanging” 􀫊􀰦. In this example of an urban household in Mianzhu,

two door deity prints showing the popular demon-queller Zhongkui 􁇒􁉮 are posted up on

either side of a double-leaf doorway, framed by a set spring couplets and lintel hanging

(fig. 3). While the door deity prints are instances of machine-printed nianhua, digitally

designed and produced in mass quantities by the latest computerized technologies in

commercial printing, the spring couplet and lintel hanging are hand-painted works. This

combination of machine-made and handmade nianhua is a common sight in Mianzhu and

across China, reflecting diverse practices of display. Furthermore, an extremely wide

variety of works appears on doorways as door deities and spring couplets, including

advertisements and posters designed for other purposes (fig. 4).

Outdoor nianhua displays often appear faded or torn because they are renewed

only once a year during the Lunar New Year then left undisturbed until the following

year. As works that capture a continuous cycle of timed renewal and decay, these

ephemeral nianhua resist being analyzed as fixed objects outside of their contexts of use.

Thus the different modes of nianhua display push for a rethinking of nianhua’s attributed

power to “attract the auspicious, repel the portentous” in distinctly spatial and temporal

terms.

A major contribution of this study is that it theorizes the larger body of nianhua

that are in perpetual motion beyond the confines of the archive, circulating in markets

and lived spaces as a “living archive,” a term I will unpack as an evolving body of

nianhua radically embedded in a repertoire of embodied practices tied to everyday life

and livelihood. In addition to archival research, this study draws on firsthand

observations and interview sessions with Mianzhu’s nianhua makers and users. The push

to recognize nianhua as a living entity is an urgent issue for the industry. As this study

will show, the valorization of historic archives has legitimized a range of state-led

campaigns to collect, salvage, and rebrand nianhua to suit the interests of official

institutions. In Mianzhu, the official agenda to “rescue nianhua heritage” 􀰽􀣷􀭍􀟂􁁌􀓁 is

bolstered by folk art discourses that relegate nianhua to the remote past, as that which

needs state intervention to be preserved and resuscitated. This has led to the state’s largescale

collection of prints and paintings from the community and the building of nianhua

heritage attractions such as folk art museums and commercialized theme parks. I will

argue that contemporary nianhua activities continue to challenge or destabilize these

activities, including everyday practices that re-appropriate and reclaim the historic

nianhua held in state collections.

In the sections below, I will first situate the regional and historical background of

Mianzhu nianhua within the existing scholarship on nianhua, which has been largely

focused on centers of the north and east. I will then address the need to rethink nianhua

as a living archive, a concept that points to the developing body of objects and practices

that continually perform the significance of nianhua. While philosopher J. L. Austin first

used this term in 1962 to describe performative forms of speech that not only “say

something” but also constitute some form of action, feminist philosophers such as Judith

Butler and Eve Sedgwick have elaborated on it to stress the “performative fluidity” of

gender as embodied acts that are continually rehearsed and recast to achieve specific

results.18 The term has since come to signal a broad paradigmatic shift in anthropology

18 See J. L. Austin, How to Do Things with Words (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1962); Judith Butler,

“Performative Acts and Gender Constitution: An Essay in Phenomenology and Feminist Theory,” Theatre

and art history, where scholars focus less on “ritual systems” or “sign systems” and more

on analyzing specific practices and cultural performances as forms of social action. 19

This study builds on these developments to address the ongoing contestations of meaning

in Mianzhu’s growing nianhua industry, where high stakes are attached to defining and

performing nianhua’s auspicious or portentous significance.

“Little Chengdu” and the Historic Print Trade

The term nianhua did not come into regular use until the late nineteenth century,

when it first gained widespread popularity with a new print format emerging from

Shanghai, the yuefenpai nianhua 􁄅􀙺􀮇􀭍􀟂.20 These mass-produced “calendar posters”

combined auspicious portraits of beautiful women to market a variety of urban

commodities, including foreign products, lottery announcements, and theater

advertisements 21 (fig. 5). These works were primarily produced using the newly

introduced technology of lithography although woodblock printed versions also

circulated. With the fall of the Qing dynasty and the establishment of the Republican

state in 1912, the term nianhua gained even wider currency in reference to the first

printing of the state calendar. Commemorating the first year of the Republic of China, a

Journal, 40, no. 4 (1988): 519-531; and Eve K. Sedgwick, Touching Feeling: Affect, Pedagogy,

Performativity (Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 2003).

19 The “performative turn” in anthropology has been advanced in Jeffrey C. Alexander, Bernhard Giesen

and Jason L. Mast, Social Performance: Symbolic Action, Cultural Pragmatics and Ritual (Cambridge:

Cambridge University Press, 2006). For a view of how performativity theory has shaped recent studies in

art history and visual culture, see Mieke Bal, “Performance and Performativity," in Travelling Concepts in

the Humanities: A Rough Guide (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2002).

20 According to Wang Shucun, the earliest documented use of the term nianhua appears in the biji 􀐳􀠺

writings of the mid-nineteenth century that discuss the ritual activities of the Lunar New Year. It later

appears in greater frequency in urban periodicals such as the Beijing Daily Journal 􀣘􀟅􀲰􀐑 and in

reference to Shanghai’s lithographed calendar posters. Wang, Zhongguo, 9-12.

21 Ellen J. Laing, Selling Happiness: Calendar Posters and Visual Culture in Early Twentieth Century

China (Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 2004), 29.

state-sponsored yuefenpai poster bears the nation’s “five colored flag,” a portrait of the

founding president Sun Yat-sen, and the newly adopted Gregorian calendar alongside the

traditional luni-solar calendar (fig. 6).22

With the rise to power of the Communist Party in 1949, the term nianhua was

again tied to nation-building activities as the state set in motion a series of print reforms

during the 1950s and early 1960s. These reforms sought to mobilize cultural agencies and

rural communities across the nation to produce “new nianhua” 􀾍􀭍􀟂, a revised version

of popular woodblock prints that conveyed the messages of the new nation, including

“the grand victory of Chinese people’s war for liberation and the people’s great

revolution, the establishment of the People’s Republic, the Common program [for China],

and the recovery and progress of industrial and agricultural production.”23 Against this

backdrop of ideological reform, the term nianhua was used as a blanket category to unify

a wide range of print formats produced across China. These diverse works were

collectively labeled “old nianhua” and relegated to the past to make way for the state

sponsored “new nianhua” that sought to capture the revolutionary patriotism of the

working classes and the rural peasants. In Mianzhu, the new nianhua often displayed

anonymous and patriotic laborers such as peasants or factory workers in the place of door

deities (fig. 7). This new category of works set forth the national character of nianhua by

subsuming the local and regional into the national. As Sue Tuohy noted in her study of

Chinese folklore scholarship, “the notion of traditions is used to help explain the overall

22 For a discussion of the role of nianhua in disseminating the newly adopted Gregorian calendar during the

early twentieth century, see Zhang Shaoqian, “The Supremacy of Modern Time: Reshaping the Image of

China in Early Twentieth Century Calendar Posters,” Modern Art Asia 6 (March 2011),

http://art.okstate.edu/faculty/zhang.pdf.

23 From Chang-tai Hung’s translated excerpt of the November 26, 1949 directive on nianhua reform

released by the PRC Ministry of Culture: Chang-tai Hung, “Repainting China,” 779.

unity of the apparent diversity” and “thus, the unity of China is explained through

processes of assimilation, amalgamation, and melting of peoples, and its greatness, as the

crystallization of the best contributions of each.”24

In his comprehensive history of Chinese nianhua, Bo Songnian also defines

nianhua as a form of “traditional folk art” 􀔮􀹤􀫶􀡗􁁜􀶌, a category that replaces the

reactionary “old nianhua” with the notion of “tradition.” For Bo, the notion of “folk” is

also explicitly expanded beyond the worker or rural peasant to include the vast realm of

non-official cultural production. Bo also explain that nianhua are unified by their

attributed power to “pursue the auspicious, repel the portentous,” an open-ended concept

that encompasses the pursuit of success, prosperity, and harmony in all its forms while

dispelling danger, discord, and sickness. According to Bo, the origins of nianhua can be

traced to ancient times, when pairs of warrior-like door deities were painted on either side

of Han dynasty tomb entrances, serving the apotropaic function of protecting the site

from negative influences while attracting desirable ones through the depiction of virtue

and strength.25 With the spread of inexpensive woodblock printing technology in the

Song dynasty, these tomb guardians appeared in print form on the household doorways of

the common people. As the print trade continued to flourish up to the twentieth century,

different regional print centers developed a variety of prints geared towards pursuing the

auspicious in the various lived spaces of the home, such as fertility prints for the bedroom

or stove deity prints for the kitchen.

24 Sue Tuohy, “Cultural Metaphors and Reasoning: Folklore Scholarship and Ideology in Contemporary

China,” Asian Folklore Studies 50, no. 1 (1991): 199. Tuohy discusses “boundedness,” “continuity,”

“homogeneity encompassing diversity,” as key aspects of the cultural reasoning in Chinese folklore studies

to construct China as an unified cultural and historical entity with diversity. Tuohy argues that these

assumptions merge in the idea of cultural heritage that is at the heart of contemporary folklore studies in

China.

25 Bo, Chinese Nianhua History, 1-7.

Wang Shucun, in his written history of Chinese nianhua, similarly defines

nianhua as “a unique type of ‘traditional Chinese folk painting’ [􁇏􀝓􀫶􀡗􀟻􀟂]” that

encompasses all the works produced in regional printshops, “reflecting their folk customs

and unique production methods.”26 For Wang, nianhua are not limited to works related to

the Lunar New Year because these regional printshops produce works for year-round use,

including printed and painted pictures for “weddings, funerals, acts related to wellwishing,

gift-giving, auspicious customs, ancestral worship, and theater and

entertainment.” Like Bo, Wang argues that these works share a common preoccupation

for attracting positive influences while repelling negative ones so that their regional and

local characteristics are largely relegated to stylistic differences. In the writings of both

Bo and Wang, this unifying feature serves as a powerful rationale for drawing together a

wide range of works across time and space under the blanket category of nianhua.

The need for regional perspectives beyond nianhua’s stylistic differences reflects

a broader problem in Sinological studies, as pointed out by historian Prasenjit Duara:

“The power and impact of the centralized imperial state on Chinese historiography has

been such that there have been few studies conducted of regional or provincial identity

through the long history of China.”27 A map of key historic printing sites across China

reveals the diversity of nianhua across space and time (fig. 8). A few of the lost names

subsumed under nianhua include the “dispelling cold pictures” 􀽨􀝥􀹭􀀁of the Yuan era

and the “pasted pictures” 􀟂􀹌 or “double-nine cold dispelling poetry pictures” 􀣴􀣴􀽨􀝥

26 Wang, Chinese Nianhua History, 12.

27 In calling for regional perspectives, however, Duara argues against any form of intrinsic or fixed identity

in provincial communities and examines instead how the elite intelligentsia used provincial traditions as

materials to construct and assert alternative political identities within the existing national discourses.

Prasenjit Duara, Rescuing History from the Nation: Questioning Narratives of Modern China (Chicago

University Press, Chicago, 1995), 179.

􀵂􀹭 of the Ming era.28 During the Qing period, the markets circulated Tianjin’s “wei

pictures” 􀻏􀟂, named after the historic name for the Fort of Tianjin, or “Tianjinwei” 􀸿􀣃

􀻏. Other well-known print traditions include Hangzhou’s “joyful pictures” 􀟋􀧁􀹭,

Suzhou’s “picture leaves” 􀟂􁅦, and Mianzhu’s “square prints” 􀗶􀙚. Each center had its

own unique repertoire of works that reflected its regional history, climate, architecture,

theater, and cultural make-up. 29 Scholars such as Wang Shucun and Bo Songnian have

acknowledged these differences, but their emphasis on nianhua as a unified category

tends to downplay the role of regional discourses as vital sources of meaning making.

While this study seeks to recuperate the regional and local histories that have

shaped Mianzhu’s nianhua industry, I do not mean to characterize the industry as a

totally unique or isolated phenomenon. In comparing Mianzhu with other print centers

across China, one finds many common themes and subjects tied to the seasonal round of

lunar calendar festivals and major lifecycle events such as birthdays and weddings. Door

deities, spring couplets, and lintel hangings, to name just a few widespread formats, are

produced in virtually every nianhua center across China. Keeping these shared qualities

in mind, this study will draw forth the regional and local aspects of Mianzhu nianhua,

especially the vibrant ritual and oral practices that bring nianhua to life in the home and

marketplace.

To a certain extent, the print centers in Sichuan have a unique place in Chinese

printing history because they are among the oldest in China and in the world. In the

Chengdu region, evidence of papermaking dates to the 3rd cent. BCE, and the earliest

28 Maggie Bickford, “The Symbolic Seasonal Round in House and Palace: Counting the Auspicious Nines

in Traditional China,” in House Home Family: Living and Being Chinese, ed. Ronald Knapp and Kai-Yin

Lo (Honolulu: University of Hawai‘i Press, 2005), 349-372.

29 Wang, Chinese Nianhua History, 10.

extant prints of Buddhist prayers and charms date to the Tang dynasty (618-907), when

Chengdu was among the most prosperous cities in China. By the end of the tenth century,

Chengdu was undoubtedly one of the most developed printing centers in China, as the

Song court commissioned Chengdu’s woodcarvers to print many important historical and

religious compendiums, including the first edition of the Kaibao Tripitaka in 971, a

famous set of Buddhist scriptures comprised of some 130,000 woodblocks that took ten

years to cut.30

Several early documents give a glimpse of the various types of printed matter that

appeared in Chengdu’s markets. In the preface to Liu Family Rules, the Tang Dynasty

author Liu Bi recounts his visits to Chengdu’s vibrant book markets, which were full of

miscellaneous literature tied to Yin-Yang theory, geomancy, and divination.31 In The

Ancient and Present Records of Chengdu, an imperial censor of the Northern Song lists

the seasonal round of markets in Chengdu, including “the lantern market of the first

month, the flower market of the second month, the liquor market of the tenth month, the

plum market of the eleventh month, and the print market of the twelfth month.”32 The

term used for the print markets is taofu shi 􀸥􀚘􀵧, where taofu may refer to either the

protective door deity prints or spring couplets that were annually renewed on household

doorways during the Lunar New Year. The term derives from the practices of engraving

and/or painting peachwood planks with auspicious phrases or the names and images of

30 Endymion Porter Wilkinson, Chinese History: A Manual, (Cambridge, MA: Havard University Press,

2000), 450. Other major volumes printed in Chengdu during the Song period include the Thirteen Classics

and Seventeen Histories, along with many other kinds of literature. The earliest known example of printing

in the world is a printed Buddhist spell in the form of a miniature scroll in Sanskrit, found in a tomb in Xian,

and dated to 650-70.

31 Wang Shucun 􀺦􀶎􀕨, Zhongguo menshen hua 􁇏􀝓􀫊􀴪􀟂 [Chinese door deity pictures], (Tianjin:

Tianjin renmin chubanshe, 2004), 35.

32 Cited in Hou and Liu, “Introduction to Mianzhu’s Nianhua,” 11.

protective door deities.33 With the invention of printing, the peachwood planks were

replaced by inexpensive paper ephemera, allowing a much larger portion of the lower

classes to participate in the annual rite.

The Chengdu region underwent a period of warfare and disintegration during the

transition from the Ming to the Qing dynasty, with Zhang Xianzhong’s 􁅦􀽄􁇑(1605-47)

rebellion in the late Ming and the subsequent Manchu invasion. However, as the Qing

state provided economic incentives to encourage mass migration to Sichuan, the

provincial population grew dramatically from approximately 100,000 in 1685 to

3,250,000 in 1736 and to an impressive 21,400,000 recorded in the 1812 state census.34

The influx of permanent settlers from Hunan, Hubei, Shaanxi, Fujian, Guangdong,

Jiangxi, and other surrounding areas boosted the regional economy and brought a fresh

wave of skilled artisans. By the early eighteenth century, Chengdu regained its status as a

major printing center, with at least ten large publishing houses to rival the top printing

centers in the nation.35 While Chengdu’s publishers specialized in printing books, the

outlying print centers specialized in the wholesale production of paper and single sheet

prints, including Mianzhu, Jiajiang 􀡃􀡾, and Liangping 􀨃􀯜. These centers where linked

together by waterways and well-established trade routes for the export of goods to

surrounding provinces (fig. 9).

33 The origins of the term taofu appear in Han dynasty records as a legal contract between two parties who

would each take one half of an engraved document. For a discussion on early taofu and other auspicious

objects, see Tiziana Lippiello, Auspicious Omens and Miracles in Ancient China: Han, Three Kingdoms

and Six Dynasties, Monumenta Serica Monograph Series (Nettetal: Steyler Verlag, 2001).

34 Sun Xiaofen 􀷤􀽫􀙯􀀍 Qingdai qianqi de yimin tian Sichuan 􀀁􀱢􀕽􀰭􀯹􀖥􁁍􀫶􀹁􀶹􀔫 [The populating of

Sichuan by migrants in the early Qing period], (Chengdu: Sichuan daxue, 1997), 9.􀀁

35 Cynthia J. Brokaw and Kai-Wing Chow, eds. Printing and Book Culture in Late Imperial China,

(Berkeley: University of California Press, 2005), 28.

Chengdu’s success as a printing stronghold over the centuries is largely due to the

region’s abundance of high-quality natural resources for making paper and mineral

pigments. Historic records and archaeological evidence point to Mianzhu as a major

supplier of fine papers to Chengdu since early times. Mianzhu’s paper making industry

began as early as the Eastern and Western Han period, when the site was named after the

“silky bamboo” forests that supplied supple, absorbent, and highly durable bamboo fibers

for paper production.36 During the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, the paper industry

in Mianzhu reached a high level of development, with over one hundred large workshops

producing at least nine different varieties of paper.37 Mianzhu’s printing industry

flourished in tandem with the paper industry, as the nearby mountains provided the

minerals needed for mixing brightly colored pigments.

Although rural Sichuan is often characterized as a remote and inaccessible

hinterland, its various printing centers exported their goods across the nation and abroad.

Mianzhu’s strategic location and proximity to Chengdu afforded it a great advantage in

the industry, along with its production of luxury goods such as its famous sorghum

liquor, tobacco, medicinal herbs, smoked meats, tea, and raw lacquer. Located near the

Min and Tuo rivers, Mianzhu’s traders distributed their wares along waterways that

linked up with the Yangzi river transport networks (fig. 9). Local records document the

transport of prints, papers, and tobacco via wooden boats from the Sheshui tributary near

36 Sichuan Mianzhu County Gazetteer Editing Committee􀀁􀶹􀔫􀫥􁇰􀽅􁆽􀑉􁉈􀺾􁃴􀟶, Mianzhu Gazetteer 􀫥

􁇰􀽅􁆽, (Mianzhu: Sichuan kexue jishu chubanshe, 1992), 27.

37 Details concerning Mianzhu’s early twentieth-century paper industry are based on a 1938 interview with

a local paper maker named Chen Jiru 􀓧􀠿􀳀, recorded by local official Zhou Boqun 􁇛􀑵􀲕. The details

are summarized in Zhao Jiliang 􁅵􀠿􀨅,􀀁“Jiefangqian Mianzhu shangye jingji qingkuang diandi” 􀢳􀙢􀰭􀫥

􁇰􀴅􁀼􀣜􀠶􀱦􀦃􀗄􀖯 [A brief discussion of Mianzhu’s pre-liberation economy]􀀁in Mianzhu wenshi ziliao

xuanji 􀀁􀫥􁇰􀻓􀵎􁈧􀨘􀿊􀠠􀖻􀵅􀳘􀠠 [Anthology of Mianzhu's historical studies vol.13]􀀍 ed. Wang Peisheng

􀺦􀮡􀴳􀀁and Zhang Changlu 􁅦􀓄􀩢, (Mianzhu: Sichuan sheng mianzhu xian zhengxie xuexi wenshi ziliao

weiyuanhui, 1994), 51-55.

Qingdao village as well as the dissemination of paper goods via human carriers who

walked to Chengdu and surrounding villages.38 In an interview, Mianzhu’s renowned

painter and printmaker Zhang Xianfu 􁅦􀼵􀚶 (1919-2000) recounted his early memories

of walking with his father to distant markets every year, carrying their prints and

paintings on their backs to sell in Chengdu and the surrounding temple fairs, sometimes

walking as far as Yunnan province and back during the warm months.39 In mid-summer,

merchants from surrounding provinces also arrived in Mianzhu in large donkey caravans

to trade their silver for fine paper products and other items.40

Affectionately known as “Little Chengdu” during the late Qing period, Mianzhu’s

temples, teahouses, liquor shops, and print shops replicated on a smaller scale the

cosmopolitan street life of the provincial capital and kept apace with its fashions, trends,

and political life. Mianzhu’s bustling markets and scenic walkways have been praised in

“bamboo stick” poems of the nineteenth century and in a verse by the famous poet Du Fu

􀘄􀚡 (712-770), who praised its bamboo-lined rivers during one of his visits in the eighth

century.41 These writings establish Mianzhu as an idealized pastoral getaway for

Chengdu’s wealthy and cultured elites.

38 Zhao, “A brief discussion of Mianzhu’s pre-liberation economy,” 51.

39 Liu Zhumei 􀨾􁇰􀪼, “Re ai nianhua shiye de Zhang Xianfu” 􀲣􀎹􀭍􀟂􀵙􁀼􀖥􁅦􀼵􀚶􀀁[Zhang Xianfu's

passion for the nianhua industry] in Mianzhu nianhua ziliao xuanbian 􀫥􁇰􀭍􀟂􁈧􀨘􀿊􀑉􀶹 [Mianzhu

nianhua selected research documents volume 4] (Mianzhu: Mianzhu nianhua she, 1982), 1-6.

40 A detailed description of the annual nianhua trading schedules during the early twentieth century is

documented in interview records put together in the 1950s by officials in Mianzhu leading the print reform

activities. See Wei Chuanyi 􀻉􀔮􁁬, “Mianzhu nianhua diaocha cailiao" 􀫥􁇰􀭍􀟂􀗘􀒰􀒋􀨘􀀁[Mianzhu

nianhua interview records] in Zhongguo Mianzhu nianhua 􁇏􀝓􀫥􁇰􀭍􀟂􀀼China’s Mianzhu nianhua], ed. Yu

Jundao 􁂿􀤮􀖡􀀁(Beijing: Zhongyang wenxian chubanshe, 2007), 136-140.

41For a comprehensive collection of bamboo stick poems written in Mianzhu during the Qing period, see

Zhang Zhaoyuan 􁅣􁅹􁃷, A selection of Mianzhu poetry 􀫥􁇰􀵂􀷁, (Chengdu: Sichuan renmin chubanshe,

1998). For Dufu’s poetic dedication to Mianzhu, see Han Chenwu 􀝢􀓮􀻳, Shisheng: huanyou zhong de

Dufu 􀵂􀴼􀀛􀀁􁂬􀟑􁇏􀖥􀘄􀚡􀀁[The Sage-poet: Dufu’s world of adversity and sorrow], (Baoding: Hebei daxue

chubanshe, 2000), 134.

The evolution of Mianzhu’s printing industry is thus characterized by this unique

combination of being both geographically remote yet still connected to the nation’s larger

flows of information and goods. The reasons that have been cited for nianhua’s decline in

the early twentieth-century primarily reflect developments near Beijing and Shanghai.

For instance, the displacement of woodblock printing is often attributed to the

introduction of mechanized printing technologies from the West. The rise of industrial

printing during the early twentieth-century was largely centered in Shanghai, sparking a

“Gutenberg revolution” that transformed the region’s politics and printing industries.

Historian Christopher Reed has documented in detail the dramatic rise of “print

capitalism” in Shanghai, leading to the gradual displacement of traditional block printing

methods that could not keep up with the speed and affordability of mechanized presses.42

Similarly, Leo Ou-fan Lee, Ellen J. Laing, Laikwan Pang, and others have written

extensively on how Shanghai’s changing print culture of the early twentieth century

served as a locus of Chinese modernity, giving rise to an emergent “advertising art” and

an urban visual culture that activated new modes of viewing and consumption.43

At the same time, reform-minded urban intellectuals in Beijing began leading

various print reform movements that further transformed the woodblock printing

practices in the region to support the “Self-Strengthening Movement”. The Republican

leadership institutionalized these print reforms during the 1910s and 1920s as part of their

42 Christopher Reed, Gutenberg in Shanghai: Chinese Print Capitalism, 1876-1937, (Vancouver:

University of British Columbia Press, 2004), 8. Reed uses the term “print capitalism” to draw attention to

the role of technology in a capitalist system, as it developed after the Industrial Revolution. The term also

demarcates a distinct shift from craft-based handmade books and printing to the use of mechanized printing

machines.

43 These studies include: Leo Ou-fan Lee, Shanghai Modern: The Flowering of a New Urban Culture in

China, 1930–1945, (Cambridge: Harvard University Press. 1999); Ellen J. Laing, Selling Happiness:

Calendar Posters and Visual Culture in Early Twentieth Century China (Honolulu: University of Hawai’i,

2004); and Laikwan Pang, Distorting Mirror: Visual Modernity in China, (Honolulu: University of

Hawai’i, 2007).

broader efforts to secularize and modernize the nation. These unevenly enforced

campaigns banned and confiscated certain images of popular religion, such as prints of

the wealth deity, the stove deity, and various minor and demigods. Ellen Johnston Laing

and James Flath have discussed in detail the reformed nianhua of this period, which were

known as gailiang nianhua 􀚿􀨅􀭍􀟂. These reformed nianhua reflected a range of

political themes, including representations of historic wars, current affairs, and the

changing social status of women.44

In the Chengdu region, Shanghai’s commercially printed goods arrived long

before the large mechanized presses infiltrated the region’s printing industry. While Flath

documents the displacement of traditional woodblock printing methods by lithography as

early as 1909 in Hebei, there is no evidence that Mianzhu’s printshops adopted

mechanized printing until after the Cultural Revolution.45 While Japanese incursions of

the 1930s forced Shanghai’s industrialized printing industry to move inland to Sichuan,

records show that the new technology did not immediately replace handmade paper

production and woodblock printing. In his study of Sichuan’s handmade paper industry

based in Jiajiang, historian Jan Eyferth has argued that traditional techniques continued to

dominate because they could be easily expanded at a low cost. In addition, the industrial

44 Flath, Cult of Happiness, 126-149; Ellen J. Laing, “Reform, Revolutionary, Political and Resistance

Themes in Chinese Popular Prints, 1900-1940” Modern Chinese Literature and Culture 12, no. 2 (2000):

123-176.

45 Flath’s study discusses the introduction of manual or electric lithograph presses to the print shops of

Yangjiabu in Hebei and Yangliuqing near Tianjin, where most of the larger workshops were using these

methods by 1927; Flath, Cult, 20. Christopher Reed’s study addresses the destruction of the printing

machinery in Shanghai during the Japanese attacks of the early 1930s and the subsequent transfer of the

industry inland; Reed, Gutenberg, 155-157.

paper mills used wood pulp from soft timber, which was more expensive and not as

readily available as the native grasses and bamboo used for handmade paper.46

The early twentieth-century print reform campaigns were also rarely implemented

in Sichuan, as regional warlords fought amongst themselves and against Republican

forces for control of Chengdu. In 1916, Sichuan declared independence from the

Republic, immediately sparking open fighting in Chengdu. Between 1916 and 1937, there

was frequent warfare and a changing of hands in the Chengdu region. 47 Coerced into

survival mode, local communities formed street militias and the powerful trade guilds

took over many state functions, including the settling of disputes, famine relief, and the

repair of key infrastructure.48 The chaotic upheavals of warlordism and lawlessness

forced many of Mianzhu’s paper and print shops to shut down, although production never

completely ceased.49

During the Japanese occupation of 1937-1945, Mianzhu’s economy actually

received a brief boost as large waves of migrants fled the Japanese from other parts of

China to seek refuge in Sichuan, where the new wartime capital was established in

46 According to Eyferth, in 1943, after the relocation of large paper mills to Sichuan, mechanized

production accounted for less that one-quarter of Sichuan’s paper output. See Jan Eyferth “Socialist

Deskilling: The struggle over skills in a rural craft industry, 1949-1965,” in How China Works: perspective

on the twentieth century industrial workplace, ed. Jan Eyferth (New York: Routledge, 2006), 48.

47 The complex power struggles occurring in Chengdu at this time are documented in Kristen Stapleton,

Civilizing Chengdu: Chinese Urban Reform, 1895-1937, (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2000).

48 Feng Tiren 􀙿􀸸􀲥, “Mianzhu shanghui shihua” 􀫥􁇰􀴅􀟶􀵎􀟅 [Historical accounts of Mianzhu's trade

associations], in Mianzhu wenshi ziliao ji 􀫥􁇰􀻓􀵎􁈧􀨘􀠠􀀁14 [Anthology of Mianzhu's historical studies

vol. 14], ed. Wang Peisheng 􀺦􀮡􀴳 and Zhang Changlu 􁅦􀓄􀩢 (Mianzhu: Sichuan sheng mianzhu xian

zhengxie xuexi wenshi ziliao weiyuanhui, 1995), 112-19.

49 According to the elder printmakers I spoke with for this study (to be discussed in later chapters), nianhua

production never ceased in Mianzhu although the number of shops declined dramatically in the early 20th

century. Production levels reached their lowest point during the Cultural Revolution, yet even in the worst

economic conditions, simple prints were made for the Lunar New Year season. The continuity of

production in Mianzhu over the course of the 20th century is further confirmed by interviews conducted by

print reform officials during the 1950s. A key document is: Wei Chuanyi 􀻉􀔮􁁬, “Mianzhu nianhua

diaocha cailiao" 􀫥􁇰􀭍􀟂􀗘􀒰􀒋􀨘􀀁[Mianzhu nianhua interview records] in Zhongguo Mianzhu nianhua 􁇏

􀝓􀫥􁇰􀭍􀟂􀀼China’s Mianzhu nianhua], ed. Yu Jundao 􁂿􀤮􀖡􀀁(Beijing: Zhongyang wenxian chubanshe,

2007), 136-140.

Chongqing in 1938. The collaboration between rural printmakers and intellectual elites is

a phenomenon that is perhaps best documented in the woodblock print movement led by

the writer Lu Xun in the 1930s, although there is no evidence that Mianzhu’s printmakers

were involved in wartime propaganda.50 Upon the withdrawal of the Japanese in 1945

and the outbreak of a civil war between Nationalist and Communist forces, Mianzhu’s

workshops fell into decline again. When the Communist forces officially declared victory

in 1949, the number of Mianzhu’s surviving paper makers and printmakers had declined

dramatically. According to one count, there were still eighty-four paper shops functioning

in Mianzhu in 1943, a number that dropped to about thirty in 1948. There is no estimate

for the number of printshops that remained open, although it is documented that roughly

seventy printmaking families joined up with the Communist print reform programs that

were launched in 1949. 51

Contrary to the prevailing view of nianhua’s demise, the winter street markets in

Mianzhu never ceased to take place and small quantities of auspicious prints and

paintings continued to circulate during the 1950s print reforms, even during the outright

ban on nianhua. Mianzhu’s print reform officials often complained in their bureau reports

that traditional nianhua prints continued to be produced and circulated in the community

despite the reform efforts of 1950s and 1960s.52 This was often cited as a reason for

increased efforts in “reeducation” and “training” so that local printmakers were properly

equipped to make reformed prints. Photographs taken by officials in the 1960s also show

50 For in-depth discussions of the Lu Xun woodblock print movement, see Shirley Hsiao-ling Sun, “Lu

Hsun and the Chinese Woodcut Movement, 1929-1936” (PhD dissertation, Stanford University, 1974) and

Julia Andrews, Painters and Politics in the People’s Republic of China, 1949-1979, (Berkeley: University

of California Press, 1994), 11-27.

51 Zhao, “A brief discussion of Mianzhu’s pre-liberation economy,” 54-55.

52 In his 1957 report, Wei Chuanyi cited the continued production of traditional nianhua in Mianzhu’s

workshops as a sign that local printmakers lacked the ability to conceive and produced the desired forms of

reformed nianhua. Wei Chuanyi, “Mianzhu nianhua interview records,” 139.

traditional prints being sold alongside reformed ones (fig. 10). Interview accounts also

point to the continuous circulation of simple mimeographs of household deities in the

winter street markets throughout the years of the Cultural Revolution. This is

corroborated by studies that document how a number of state-sanctioned prints were

regularly appropriated for ritual use as door deities or as other household divinities during

the Cultural Revolution.53 In short, ritual print activities did not cease but continued to

adapt to the changing conditions of life before, during, and after the Cultural Revolution.

Not long after the Cultural Revolution drew to a close in 1976, there were signs of

a return to ritual industries in Sichuan. By 1978, nianhua were widely available in the

street markets and state-led efforts were already underway to revitalize woodblock

printing to launch a folk art export industry. All over Sichuan, a broad resurgence of

ritual goods and services sprang forth to support lunar calendar festivals, processions,

pilgrimage, geomancy, divination, temple building, ancestral worship, life-cycle rituals,

and lineage rituals. Under Deng Xiaoping’s programs for “reform and opening,” liberal

economic reforms and relaxed policies around cultural production led to the

decollectivization of land and the decentralization of economic decision-making power

that increased the influence of local and provincial governments.54 It is likely that

Sichuan’s distance to the capital allowed these reforms to take hold sooner, as it was

among the first provinces in China to begin dismantling communal farms in favor of

53 Anthropologist Stefan Landesberger has studied how printed images tied to the “Mao cult” of the

Cultural Revolution were ritually displayed and used in ways that combined the powers of “the many

protective and auspicious deities that were traditionally revered in the household.” Stefan R. Landesberger,

“The Deification of Mao: Religious Imagery and Practices During the Cultural Revolution and Beyond,” in

China's Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution: Master Narratives and Post-Mao Counternarratives, ed.

Woei Lien Chong (New York: Rowman and Littlefield, 2002), 155. These issues are also discussed in

Daniel Leese, Mao Cult: Rhetoric and Ritual in China’s Cultural Revolution (Cambridge University Press,

2011): 128-148.

54 Him Chung, China’s Rural Market Development in the Reform Era (Burlington: Ashgate Publishing,

2004), 35-45.

contracting land to individual households or groups of households, a process that would

later take shape as the “household responsibility system.”55 Launched on a national scale

in 1981, the policy implemented a series of free-market reforms that led to a rapid growth

in home-based handicrafts and the peddling of specialty goods such as nianhua during

the seasonal festivals of the lunar calendar.

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