Archive for ‘piano’

06/04/2020

My Money: ‘People have started leaving their houses again’

Jen Smith in a maskImage copyright JEN SMITH
Image caption Jen Smith lives in Shenzhen, where it’s compulsory to wear a mask outside at all times

My Money is a series looking at how people spend their money – and the sometimes tough decisions they have to make. Here, Jen Smith, a children’s TV presenter from Shenzhen in southern China, takes us through a week in her life, as the country slowly emerges from the coronavirus pandemic.

Over to Jen…

Monday

Since being in lockdown I’ve been bingeing on Keeping Up With the Kardashians. It starts with one episode after dinner, blink, and suddenly it’s 3am. YouTube, Facebook, Google and Instagram are all banned here, so you’d think I’d be a binge-free socialite after a year and a half living in China. Well, those sites are banned unless you have a VPN – I pay $120 (£97) a year for mine, so Sunday was a late night, with a lie-in until 10.30 this morning.

I go for a run – mask and all, as it’s currently illegal to be outside without one. I make my coffee (bought in the UK), fruit smoothie (about 20 yuan, $2.82, £2.27) and cereal (80 yuan a packet) before cycling to work.

Today is a bit of a crazy day in the studio. I work as a children’s TV presenter. My company has profited from the lockdown as more children are watching the shows non-stop – meaning a rapid turnaround for us.

We shoot two shows from 2-6pm then “break” for a meeting. We discuss tomorrow’s shoot while I eat dinner – homemade aubergine curry. It is normal for the Chinese to eat breakfast, lunch and dinner at work. Normally the company gives all staff 25 yuan through a food-ordering app, and the whole company would eat together. However, because of the current social distancing, that social time is in the far distant past!

I make it home for 8pm, order some deep-fried cauliflower as a snack (45 yuan) and start the inevitable Kardashian binge.

Total spend: 65 yuan ($9.10, £7.37)

Tuesday
Workers napping in the officeImage copyright JEN SMITH
Image caption Workers often have a midday nap in the office

It’s a much earlier start (7.30am), but the same morning routine. On my cycle to work I notice that the traffic is almost back to normal – Shenzhen is inhabited by well over 12 million people, so as you can imagine rush hour is intense. This doesn’t change the fact that everywhere you go you have to scan a QR code – leaving my apartment, using the walkway by the river, and getting into the building I work in.

After a morning of shooting I eat homemade potato curry and settle down for a nap. Naptime is such a commonality in China that people store camp beds at the office. I order a coffee and banana chips (20 yuan) for a pick-me-up before the afternoon’s shooting.

It’s St Paddy’s Day so I head to the local pubs area, catch dinner at a French restaurant (222 yuan), then a few drinks (25 yuan – mainly bought by men at the bar for us) before a very tipsy cycle home.

Total spend: 242 yuan ($34, £25)

Disposable cover for lift buttonsImage copyright JEN SMITH
Image caption A disposable cover reduces the risk of transmitting the virus by touching lift buttonsPresentational white space
Wednesday

The morning’s shoot (thankfully) was cancelled, so I nursed a hangover in bed until around 11am, at which point I had a phone meeting for a company that I do “plus-size” modelling for (for context I’m a UK size 12). I eat a bowl of cereal and order more cauliflower (45 yuan) while I watch a film.

At 2.30pm an intern picks me up, and we head to the government building to apply for a new work visa. Ironically, the image taken for my visa is Photoshopped to remove wrinkles, freckles and my frizzy hair. When I ask why this is being done for an identification document, the intern replies that the government wants it to be neat, and “the Chinese way” is to have altered photos.

I don’t argue, and have an interview before I hand in my passport. The whole process takes around two hours, so I order food to my house while on the way home (150 yuan for burger, salad and cake!) I take a taxi across town which ends up being 39.05 yuan.

Total spend: 234.05 yuan ($33, £27)

Presentational grey line

My Money

More blogs from the BBC’s My Money Series:

Presentational grey line
Thursday

The day starts at 8.30am with coffee and reading, before I get a manicure (280 yuan). My nail lady has been very worried about the state of my hands during the virus, so she spends a whopping two and a half hours treating them while I watch a film (0.99 yuan – bought by her). Because the manicure was so long I don’t have time to eat lunch before our fitness shoot, which runs from 2-5.30pm. I then have an appointment to sign into a building which I’ll shoot in tomorrow.

The building is near a supermarket called Ole (one of the only western supermarkets), and I pick up groceries for 183 yuan before heading home to cook, listen to podcasts and prep for the big day of shooting on Friday.

Total spend: 463 yuan ($64, £52.5)

Jen Smith filming a TV show in front of a green screenImage copyright JEN SMITH
Image caption Jen filming in front of a green screen – a more colourful digital background will be added later in post-production
Friday

Fridays are generally my busiest day. The way the Chinese seem to function, is a boss will say “I want this done now” and then employees rush to finish it. Generally, they will write scripts on Monday and Tuesday, discuss Wednesday, then we shoot later in the week. The poor editors, despite mandatory office hours during the week, then have to work tirelessly through the weekend to achieve a Sunday evening deadline.

I start with mashed avocado and a hard-boiled egg before work. The morning shoot runs from 9.30-11.40am, and I have an early lunch – homemade curry again, before my regular nap time. The afternoon shoot is three hours, so I have time to pop home and shower before a live stream at 6pm. I take a taxi to and from the live stream which ends up being 28 yuan.

Total spend: 28 yuan ($3.92, £3.18)

Plastic sheeting attached to car seats in a taxiImage copyright JEN SMITH
Image caption A taxi driver has improvised a screen to reduce the risk of picking up Covid-19 from a passenger
Saturday

Finally the weekend! Although things are slowly getting better in China after the coronavirus outbreak, there’s still not too much to do. So I use this time to write, play my piano and generally chill inside. Around 3pm, I venture outside to the shops to pick up some snacks (159.60 yuan) before settling in to ring my family back in the UK with a homemade cocktail – a friend of mine in Canada is doing a daily live stream, “quarantinis” where he teaches you how to make cocktails!

What’s interesting is that a lot of people have started leaving their houses again, but it is still illegal to go outside without a mask on, and temperature checks are taken everywhere. I was even refused entry to a building due to being foreign. I imagine this is because recently the only new cases are being brought in by non-Chinese travelling back to China.

Total spend: 159.60 yuan ($22, £18)

Jen Smith in front of an empty Metro stationImage copyright JEN SMITH
Image caption Shenzhen’s Metro system is still very quiet
Sunday

It’s another slow day for me as many foreigners have not yet returned to China, so most of my friends are out of the country. I start the day by reviewing potential scripts.

This takes me to 1.30pm without realising I haven’t eaten. I decide to go for a quick run and I return to eat mashed avocado and a hard-boiled egg.

I home-bleach my hair with products bought in the UK, then head back to editing again. About half way through the afternoon I take a little break to practice Chinese. I use an app which is fantastic and free! Definitely worth everyone downloading this during social distancing so you can learn new skills!

For dinner I order online again, a three-dish meal for 160 yuan.

Total spend: 160 yuan ($22.4, £18)

Overall weekly spend: 1352 yuan ($189, £153)

Source: The BBC

12/01/2019

Chinese love to play piano, even if their locally made instruments keep hitting bum notes

  • Country is the world’s biggest manufacturer and exporter of pianos, shipping about 350,000 a year, but has a reputation for producing low-quality models
  • As living standards have improved across the country, pianos are no longer seen as luxury items
PUBLISHED : Saturday, 12 January, 2019, 7:18pm
UPDATED : Saturday, 12 January, 2019, 7:17pm

Playing the piano is becoming an increasingly popular pastime for Chinese people young and old, but while their passion is indubitable, the same cannot be said about the local manufacturers that make more of them than anywhere else in the world.

China opened its first piano factory in 1895 but it was not until the 1950s, after the founding of the People’s Republic, that state-controlled manufacturers began to spring up in major cities. Today, the country builds and sells about 350,000 models a year.

But despite its prolific output, China is not regarded as a maker of quality pianos.

According to Hong Kong pianist Gwendoline Cho-ning Kam, the “character” of a piano is determined by the craftsmanship of the people who make it, and when it comes to quality, China still has a long way to go.

“Pianos are about personal preference, but the ones made in China can’t compete on the world stage,” she said. “We rarely see them in international concert halls.”

Kam has been playing the piano for about 30 years and has tried out all sorts of brands, from locally made models like Pearl River and Yangtze River, to the best in the world from Germany’s Steinway and Italy’s Fazioli.

A manager with a leading Chinese manufacturer, who asked not to be named, said local firms did not have the expertise to produce all of the components needed to make a piano and so had to rely on imports.

“We can’t produce strings, for example,” he said. “So we buy them from Germany or Japan.”

It was the same with the felt needed for the hammers, he said.

“The raw material for hammer felt is Australian wool, but different companies make different types to create different sounds,” he said. “We’ve made a lot of progress making hammer felt but when it comes to high-end pianos, we have to import it from Germany.”

China also had a lack of technicians who truly understood music, he said.

“This is a young industry for us and our technicians’ understanding of the piano and piano music is way below that of Westerners, and that affects a piano’s character.”

David Sun, who has been tuning and repairing pianos in Shanghai and Nanjing since graduating from Nanjing University of the Arts in 2011, said that although China was not known for the quality of its pianos, most people were unconcerned.

“Most families don’t care much about the brand and most of the pianos they buy come from small Chinese factories,” he said. “The most popular ones are priced between 20,000 and 30,000 yuan (US$3,000 to US$4,400), with some costing just a little over 10,000 yuan, which is much cheaper than comparable European or American brands.”

The industry is in a different phase of development to those in the West, he said.

“The mission for many of the factories in China is to make pianos as affordable as possible, while others, who understand nothing about pianos, are in the business only to make money,” he said.

“China also doesn’t have the tradition or cultural links with the piano,” he said. “So even if a domestic maker spent a lot of money to produce a great piano, people [who know about these things] would still choose one made in Europe.”

Xiao Wei, vice-chairman of piano manufacturer Pearl River, which bought German brand Schimmel two years ago, said the company had been trying to upgrade its products after a period of rapid growth.

“Buying Shimmel in 2016 was an important part of our strategy to shift to high-end instruments,” he said.

About 90 per cent of the company’s pianos are sold in China with the rest going to Europe and North America.

“As salaries have increased in China, so the piano is no longer regarded as a luxury item,” Xiao said. “And many families have realised that playing the piano is a good way for their children and themselves to develop.”

Sun agreed there had been a spike in the number of people taking up the piano, with the fastest growing sector being the elderly.

“I would say 20 to 25 per cent of my clients are retirees in Shanghai,” he said. “Many of them went to the local college to learn how to play.”

But everyone knows that if you really want to master an instrument you have to start young. And that is exactly what six-year-old Tingting from Shanghai is doing.

“As far as I know, at least a third of my daughter’s classmates are learning to play the piano,” said her mother, Lucy Chen.

Tingting had been taking weekly lessons for nearly two years and practised for about an hour a day at home, she said.

As well as wanting her little girl to “develop an artistic temperament”, Chen said that learning the piano might also one day provide a useful source of income.

“Even if she never becomes a master, she can at least find a job,” she said. “I know lots of college students majoring in piano that make big money by teaching in their spare time.”

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