Four music festivals and a marathon concert made this year's May Day holiday the busiest ever for Beijing's pop and rock fans. Each of the events featured dozens of acts and drew thousands of people.
When I started organizing rock concerts in Beijing in the late 1980s, the main protagonists of the city's rock scene, including their equipment, could be easily packed onto one bus.
1984-85: Mainland singers release cassettes of cover songs from Taiwan, Hong Kong and Western countries.
It was the opportunity to trailblaze that lured American Brian Linden to China in 1984. That was why he jumped at the chance to come to the country as a Beijing Language Institute student, he says, as most restrictions on foreigners' movements in the country had just been lifted. "We truly were among the first foreigners who could break away from the major cities and explore China's hinterlands," the 48-year-old says. And, he says, he reveled in interactions with the local people.
Byline | Manli Ho & John B. Wood
Expert's take | Larry Wang
Over three decades, Chinese cinema has played out like a typical three-act blockbuster. In 1979 the spurt of re-releases and new offerings pushed ticket sales to 29.31 billion yuan, a record unlikely to be topped. Fifteen years later, film attendance plummeted to just 1 percent of that record and movie theaters were converted to furniture stores, among other uses, as audiences stayed home to watch television or pirated videos.
After the chaotic "cultural revolution" (1966-1976), during which more than 300 Chinese movies were banned, filmmakers could not wait for a new era to begin. Taboo films were screened again and audiences flocked to movie theaters with great passion.
As a China Daily reporter, I was lucky to have covered film events from the early 1980s to the late 1990s, an important period for the rising Chinese film industry.
1981: China Film Association initiates the Golden Rooster Awards.
Thirty years after China's literature began to develop in new and exciting directions, the general consensus of Chinese public opinion seems to be that it's not nearly exciting enough. No one doubts the achievements of the Chinese economy but the achievements of Chinese literature are less obvious.
The image of a long queue outside the small campus bookstore lingers in the memory of writer Zhao Lihong. He was a student at Shanghai-based East China Normal University from 1977 to 1981 and Chinese literature was his major. "Students and faculty would line up each morning for new books, even before the bookstore started business," Zhao, 60, recalls. "Books were always in short supply."