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Culture

Crafting the Future

Former CCTV anchor turned cultural advocate argues that the longevity of traditional crafts lies not only in commerce and creativity, but also in their power as mindful,everyday practices that elevate the human experience

By Yi Ziyi Updated Sept.1

Zhao Pu (Photo courtesy of the interviewee)

For most Chinese audiences, Zhao Pu is remembered as one of the country's most recognizable television news anchors. But after leaving China Central Television (CCTV) in 2015, he turned his attention to a lifelong passion: protecting and revitalizing China's traditional handicrafts and intangible cultural heritage (ICH). 

Zhao has founded organizations promoting traditional crafts, produced documentaries and written extensively on artisans. This year, he founded the World Craft Forum, an online platform that promotes ICH academic and cultural exchange worldwide. 

In an interview with NewsChina, Zhao discusses the forces that are reshaping the future of traditional craftsmanship, and why crafts survive by being used, not by being preserved in museums or through subsidies alone. 

NewsChina: What first sparked your interest in traditional handicrafts? 

Zhao Pu: This passion did not emerge out of nowhere. Its origins lie in my birthplace and upbringing. I was born in Anhui Province and raised in Huizhou (in southern Anhui), a uniquely fertile cultural region. 

In old Huizhou, even ordinary farmers farmed the land by day and practiced calligraphy at night. People's reverence for learning was ingrained in the local identity. Huizhou is known for its heritage of the "Four Treasures of the Study": Hui ink, Xuan paper, Xuan brushes and She inkstones (Xuan and She come from ancient prefecture names in southern Anhui). They were the heart of every ancient scholar's study. 

Raised in this calligraphic culture, I naturally became familiar with traditional handicrafts. The drive to revisit history and engage with traditional culture is invariably tied to one's formative background. This is undeniable, and it explains my decades-long commitment to the protection and promotion of ICH. 

NC: When did preserving ICH become more than a personal interest? 

ZP: It was back in 2003 when I was working at Beijing Television. I produced and directed a short documentary series titled Inheritors. The documentary centers on two core themes: ICH inheritors and the challenges many traditional practices face today. 

Take Yangliuqing New Year woodblock prints (Yangliuqing is a town in Tianjin). They were once an indispensable part of Chinese New Year rituals. In the old days, setting off firecrackers, gathering the whole family to eat dumplings and pasting door gods on gateways were household traditions. As these agrarian New Year customs gradually faded from daily life, the paintings struggled to survive. Without the cultural soil that once sustained them, the craft lost its foundation, leaving no successors to carry it forward. 

Another example is movable-type printing in Rui'an, Zhejiang Province. Today, movable-type printing has long lost its practical function as a means of transmitting information and retains only cultural value. Information has gone fully digital, rendering physical printing blocks obsolete. 

NC: How did your work in television help you promote traditional crafts and ICH? 

ZP: Once I joined television, especially after becoming a CCTV host with considerable public influence, I clearly recognized the immense power of modern media for cultural preservation. 

In the early days, Sina Weibo did not exist, and blogs dominated online platforms. I maintained a blog on 163. com and published two widely discussed articles. The first exposed the neglected and filthy state of Qi Baishi's (1864-1957) tomb (in western Beijing), disgracing the master painter's legacy and exposing failures in cultural relic protection. 

The second article had an even greater impact. Titled "Preserve the Soul of Old Beijing," it focused on the former residence of renowned architects Liang Sicheng (1901-1972) and Lin Huiyin (1904-1955) on East Zongbu Hutong. Real estate developers planned to demolish the couple's previous home, coining the phrase "protective demolition." But how can demolition coexist with preservation? 

The article drew the attention of (artist and cultural scholar) Feng Jicai. He rallied multiple members of the Chinese People's Political Consultative Conference to campaign for the residence's preservation, yet it could not be saved. (It was demolished in 2012.) 
Back then, I lacked the authority to use official media resources for cultural preservation, so my personal blog worked as an early form of social media. 

NC: You often place traditional crafts in a broader historical and cultural context. Why is that perspective important? 

ZP: Yes indeed. For decades, I have made a habit of evaluating each phase of my work against a broader historical timeline. 

My long-standing dedication to ICH stems from a process of cultural self-reflection: What cultural influences shaped our generation of Chinese people, and where do our civilizational roots lie? That is only the first layer of my reflection. A deeper question remains: Where will Chinese people, carrying this legacy of traditional culture, go in the future? 

Although my work appears to document the past, my gaze is firmly fixed on the future, as I continually examine how traditional culture can coexist with modern society. 

Ten years ago, I formulated three guiding principles for ICH preservation. First, trade is the best form of protection. For craftsmen to sustain their livelihoods and pass down their skills, their work must sell. Second, use is the best form of inheritance. Crafts endure only when they are integrated into daily life, and those disconnected from practical life will eventually disappear. Third, sharing is the best form of dissemination. People willingly share the beauty of traditional crafts only when they truly value them. 

NC: You've argued that the market offers the best protection for traditional crafts. What do you mean by that? 

ZP: Crafts isolated from market feedback cannot endure in the long term. Market feedback has two forms: one is positive consumer recognition, a willingness to purchase that incentivizes craftspeople, while critical feedback on flawed materials or design pushes artisans to refine their work. This creates a positive feedback loop. 

Relying solely on government subsidies is akin to raising seedlings in a greenhouse: Once funding ceases, the project collapses. Revitalization does not rely on one-sided government financial support. It requires deep market integration and self-sustaining commercial cycles. 

The internet and livestreaming are the most accessible channels for promotion and sales today. I have hosted livestreams myself, selling kesi (cut-silk tapestries), cloud gauze and agarwood (a rare resinous wood used for carving and fragrances) and silk handicrafts. Nevertheless, during economic downturns, consumers cut spending on such ornamental items first. 

Online promotion carries inherent drawbacks: Most skilled artisans excel at crafts but lack the skills for livestream sales. Established artisans now form specialized teams to do livestreams. For instance, master sculptor Zhu Bingren (inventor of the molten copper art technique with a museum in Hangzhou, Zhejiang Province) lets his son handle the commercial side of his work. Short videos and livestreaming are the essential communication tools which have become impossible for artisans to avoid. 

Offline cultural events serve as another key commercial channel, with Suzhou Bense Fair and Wenzhou Qingdeng Fair as industry benchmarks. Nevertheless, the commercial influence of fairs is limited and, in the meantime, is on the decline, affected by the current economic situation. 

Digital platforms boast lower barriers to entry: Anyone with a smartphone can film craft production processes and share them on the internet. A rural craftsman who goes by Shanbai, a 25-year-old man from rural Hunan Province, went viral for videos of him making pipa (traditional stringed instruments) and stoneware. 

NC: What does the Guochao trend - Chinese fashion that blends traditional culture with modern style - tell us about young people's relationship with traditional culture? 

ZP: From my perspective, Guochao is a cultural and commercial movement in which young consumers make purchases based on historical narratives disseminated through mass media. 

For instance, the surge of tourists wearing Hanfu (traditional Han clothing) at the Palace Museum (in Beijing) stems not from young people studying history, but from television dramas set in the Qing Dynasty (1644-1911) that have sparked audiences' imagination. Consumer demand for Hanfu and traditional cultural and creative products reflects young people's desire to seek out their cultural roots. Young people embracing traditional culture is a positive and encouraging trend, far preferable to cultural indifference and disconnection. 

NC: China's ICH catalogue has expanded rapidly in recent years, even to include some food products. Has the definition of ICH become too broad? 

ZP: China operates a four-tier ICH catalogue system: county-level, municipal, provincial and national, with stricter review criteria the higher the tier. County-level standards remain the most lenient, which is the primary reason behind the overexpansion of ICH categories. 

Three things are fueling this: The ICH label boosts value for cultural tourism development, catalogued projects qualify for government subsidies and registered ICHs serve as cultural performance metrics for local governments. 

Scholars opposed classifying food-related practices as ICH. Cuisine survives through natural market selection, popular flavors endure across generations without formal catalogue protection. Yet as the catalogue system expands nationwide, standards are set by local cultural and tourism bureaus, with overarching guidance documents issued by the Ministry of Culture and Tourism. 

Many local governments prioritize the sheer number of ICH listings, recklessly expanding catalogues with lax standards. However, the tiered filtering system self-regulates: County-level projects rarely advance to municipal, provincial or national rosters. In the long run, fading public interest and dwindling subsidies will reduce low-value listings. 

NC: Many local governments are using ICH-themed events to promote tourism, but some have struggled with planning and execution. What lessons should they learn? 

ZP: This exemplifies the typical pitfalls of State-administered cultural projects. Local governments aim to build tourism brands and attract visitors, yet often lack robust crowd forecasting and security planning, leading to a lose-lose predicament. Huge public funds are expended, but last-minute cancelations harm public trust. 

Even economically developed regions in the Yangtze River Delta suffer from planning oversights, not to mention smaller cities. I have always believed market-driven initiatives should remain in the hands of the market, with minimal administrative intervention. Commercial events self-adjust according to visitor flow and revenue, while top-down government planning often lacks accurate demand forecasting, resulting in a waste of resources. 

Huizhou fish lanterns, for example, survive through scenic cultural tourism events. Without commercial applications, they would only appear sporadically during village festivals, risking eventual extinction. Fortunately, modern media amplifies tourism appeal for such practices, and the open market offers the most sustainable path forward. 

NC: What role do you think traditional crafts will play in the age of AI? 

ZP: The widespread adoption of AI has amplified the value of traditional handcrafts. Anyone using AI tools will notice that machine-generated work lacks a distinct human touch. The beauty unique to humanity lies in imperfection: Handmade pieces inevitably bear minor irregularities, which embody vivid human texture. High-precision machinery eliminates all imperfections, sacrificing this unique aesthetic quality. 

The rapid development of AI has sparked a global existential question: How do we define human value? As intellectuals, we must redefine the contemporary significance of traditional crafts and ICH. 

Yanagi Soetsu (1889-1961), a master of modern Japanese craft aesthetics, established the theoretical framework of "the beauty of Mingei." Mingei does not refer to precious ceremonial artifacts enshrined in temples, but the inherent beauty of ordinary, affordable objects used in daily life. He pioneered the hugely influential concept of "the beauty of daily use." 

Few Chinese scholars have elevated folk handicrafts to the level of aesthetic philosophy as Yanagi did. Most scholarship remains confined to surface-level technical analysis of artifacts, while Yanagi's work penetrates the metaphysical Dao. 

During exchanges at the World Craft Forum, I aim to build consensus among international scholars on philosophical and ethical grounds. The shared anxiety triggered by AI unites researchers worldwide in exploring a single question: How will humanity navigate the AI revolution? 

I have one prediction concerning the role of traditional crafts: In the future, ICH and traditional crafts will evolve into spiritual practices similar to yoga. Yoga is a practice for physical conditioning and mindful breathing. 

Traditional handicrafts will become a secular, everyday spiritual practice, similar to meditation, allowing humanity to converse with its history, calm the mind and perceive the passage of time.

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