Photo Journal Monday: Ronghui Chen
Two junior high school students learn how to smoke outside school. Fularji, Heilongjiang, China, February 2017. Fularji used to have a college specializing in heavy-duty equipment, but the school moved to Qinhuangdao, Hebei province, which is nearer to Beijing, in the 1990s. The loss of higher education institutions darkened the prospects of the city’s young people, who are already struggling with a shortage of opportunities.
Freezing Land is a series of photos made, on the road, across northeastern China’s countryside that mixes landscape photography with environmental portraits. It is a story about about the shrinking cities in northeastern China and their lonely young people.
Bare shrubs outside a church in Yichun, Heilongjiang, are decorated with colorful ornaments in December 2016.
The northeast was the wealthiest area in China, bordering Russia and North Korea. With the help of Soviet Union, it developed heavy industries and stayed prosperous for years. This land represented China’s communist roots and authoritarianism. But now, it has become the most recessionary land in China, with shrinking cities and declining population.
Local hunter Huang Shu poses for a portrait holding a gun and deer in Yichun Taoshan International Hunting Field, December 2016. Built in 1984, the place was the first wildlife hunting field to be approved by the State Council of China for game hunting.
Meanwhile, Chinese President XiJinping started a campaign for the “Chinese Dream.” But what does this mean to the young people living in the northeast, the once prosperous land? What’s the story of today’s northeastern China? I set out to see for myself.
Five ethnic Korean children pray in a local church on Sunday in Longjing, Jilin province, China, February 2017. Bordering North Korea, Longjing is home to a large ethnic Korean community. South Korean missionaries introduced Christianity to ethnic Koreans there.
It is difficult to encounter subjects on the street in an environment of minus 30 degrees centigrade. Therefore, I used a social media app “Kuaishou” looking for young people who were willing to share their stories. The young people I chose were experiencing a sense of uncertainty. They were facing a choice to leave for challenges in bigger cities, or stay behind and embrace their fate. Their voices were sparsely documented by Chinese media or through other mediums. Few people knew about their stories.
A Mao Zedong admirer holds a portrait of him in his revolutionary-themed restaurant in Fushun, Liaoning, China, February 2018.
I photographed environmental portraits for these young people. Their stories are colorful, but also full of loneliness. I photographed the derelict landscape – places that are once lively but now forgotten. During this process, the emotion expressed by these young people – a mixed sense of hesitation, loneliness, and hope – has brought me resonance.
Lin Zi, 14, sits in a café where internet celebrities live stream their performances online in Fularji, Heilongjiang, China, February 2017. After dropping out of school, Zhi began performing on the Chinese Internet and has almost a million fans today. “My parents abandoned me, and I make money by doing drag shows on a live streaming app.”
This made me realize that I’m not just photographing the lost “Chinese Dream” on this freezing northeastern land, but also the uncertainty we young people, as individuals, are facing under today’s collectivism in China.
See more of Chen’s work here
