SHANGHAI has seen high temperatures for weeks in succession, but this has not meant improved business for fan makers.

"The business has been becoming increasingly hard in recent years. Annual profits plummeted from 2 million yuan (US$241,800) in the early 1980s to 100,000 yuan (US$12,100) today," said Ye Jiaming, manager of Shanghai Wangxingji Fan Production House.

With a history of over 100 years, Wangxingji's products boast exquisite craftsmanship, delicate fan-cover paintings and hand calligraphy as well as multifunction uses, for instance as artistic props in plays, dances and story-telling. The company has witnessed the vicissitudes of the traditional Chinese fan. Now it is in a critical state awaiting help to pull it out of its predicament.

Heritage at risk

Lou Weiping, a 49-year-old technician employed by the fan house, has been working there for most of her life. "Every day, I match fan-heads and fan-covers for customers and repair minor breakages to their fans. Though the work isn't technically demanding, it needs to be skilled and patient." Next year, she will retire from the position. However, no successor has yet been found.

"I am worried about who will take over my work after my retirement," Lou said, before explaining the practical reason for this embarrassing situation. "Before the 1990s, our fans were exported to other countries, and comparatively speaking, we were better paid at that time. Now, things are different. Just like other State-owned enterprises, Wangxingji is finding it hard to survive amid keen competition."

She is paid the city's monthly minimum salary of 635 yuan (US$77). "The fan house can't afford the higher salary required to attract young people."

Lack of funds is at the root of Wangxingji's difficulties, depriving the fan house of the conspicuous location needed to draw the attention of potential customers.

"Since we moved out of Nanjing Lu in 1994, our shops have undergone four further moves before arriving at the current location. Every move resulted in a loss of customers. This present address on Hankou Lu has only a few sales counters and its frontage fails to attract people," Ye said. Publicity, the key to boosting sales volume, has also been overlooked due to financial woes.

"It's hard for us to obtain financial support from the government, even though it is concerned about our condition. The supporting funds dedicated to protecting traditional handicraft is limited."

As a regular customer and a top-level painter at a local painting and calligraphy institute, 52-year-old Zhang Zhiqian felt distressed to see the traditional art of Chinese fan-making in such a difficult situation. "I have been painting Wangxingji's fan-covers ever since the age of 17. I am deeply fascinated with the special character of Chinese fans. I hate to see it reaching such an impasse," Zhang said.

Yet how to bring about a renaissance in the art of Chinese fan-making is an extremely challenging question, especially since government support is far from enough to preserve it. "The declining importance of fans in daily life and in the market makes the revival of fans and an increase in their value as a commodity very difficult," said Gu Xiaoming, a sociologist at Fudan University. Even though it has become fashionable for people to use traditional Chinese artifacts, that fad is fragile and does little to promote traditional Chinese handicrafts.

Professor Gu believes there is a necessity for some kind of "CRM" (Cultural Resource Management), not simply maintaining the traditional ways of manufacturing, selling and using the fans, but also encouraging the return of traditional features embedded in the old or archaic objects - renovating traditional culture.

"With the shortage of electric power and consequent 'unplugging' this summer, the gradually growing number of Chinese fans in use shows the possibility of a resurgence of this cultural heritage. Chinese fans may have many happy returns."

However, Gu said their fate still remains in doubt and in the minds and hands of the personnel concerned. An astute observer and designer plus a smart businessperson could extract Chinese fans from their dire straits.

Unconventional tradition

Chinese fans flourished through most of Chinese history, until the emergence of modern appliances - air-conditioners and electric fans in particular - in the late-20th century. Shanghai alone had at least 100 fan production houses during the Qing Dynasty (1644-1911), among which only a few still exist today.

The traditional fan has long been elevated to the status of art, integrated with the traditional aesthetic realms of painting and calligraphy. China was the first country to manufacture the fan. Its origin can be traced back to the time of Emperor Shun, about 4,000 years ago.

Early fans were made exclusively for the loyal court. It was not until the Han Dynasty (206 BC-220) that fans became wildly available among ordinary people. The round silk fan with a handle, also called the Tuan Shan, was already in use among affluent ladies during the Jin Dynasty (265-420). Graphics usually painted on Tuan Shan included beautiful scenery, human portraits, flowers and birds. The most popular form of the fan was still the folding fan, or zheshan, which came into use during the Song Dynasty (960-1279) and was often engraved with figures of birds, landscapes and even poems. Later, increasing numbers of literati acknowledged the folding fan as a medium for showing off their expertise in writing and painting. From then on, the value of fans increased as people began to collect them for their artistic value.

With the social status of traditional fans steadily rising, they began to be exported to Europe during the Qing Dynasty. Ivory fans soon became popular with European women, marking the beginning of an era in which Chinese fans were widely accepted in the Western Hemisphere.

"Today, in our Oriental world, there is still something special about holding a fan, since it triggers thoughts about the fan's inherent cultural meaning," said Wu Zude, a folklorist from the Shanghai Literature and Artistic Association.

"The Chinese fans reflect the essence of our long-standing folk culture," Wu said.

As a connoisseur with 30 years of fan-collecting experience, Zhang had one fan that had been made in the Yuan Dynasty (1271-1368). Its fan-head was chased with ancient lyric lines.

"However, these lines couldn't be seen cleanly unless shown against a strong light. Rather than revealing the inferior techniques of the time, this shows the temperament of the ancient literati - brilliant but self-effacing and unassuming. And that is a virtue we are still observing," Zhang said.