From the Toronto Star:

From dissident outcast to culture industry lynchpin in 10 short years: welcome to the New China, version 2.0. Thirty years ago, Deng Xiaoping started China’s economic miracle, opening the first development zones to Western investment in southern Guangdong province. Now that the country is poised to become the world’s second largest economy, Chinese leadership has turned to phase two: a hurried effort for China’s cultural life – and output – to catch up.

Splashy showings on the international art auction circuit have been fruitful not just for the upper echelon of Chinese artists, but also for the government itself… Look past that glossy surface, though, and a carefully calibrated gambit is playing out that links cultural production with economic development and the ruling party’s deep desire to shift from a service-first manufacturing centre to a serious, full-fledged player on the international stage.

There’s a term for it: Soft power. It’s defined as “the ability of a political body to get what it wants through cultural or ideological attraction.” Practically, in modern China, soft power translates to a full-scale public relations campaign designed to bolster its image – and influence – by selling an in-tune, culturally savvy version of itself to the world… But as long ago as 2006, an editorial in the state-controlled People’s Daily newspaper made it plain: That despite China being “a cultural fountainhead with 5,000 years of civilization … we have become an assembly plant.” It concluded: “If China is to become a powerful nation, culture, politics and the economy must strengthen in step.”

In related news, “Winds of Change Propel China’s New Stars” discusses the recovering Chinese modern art market:

BEIJING–Somewhere between the jam-packed news conference and the moment, hours later, when the gallons upon gallons of bulk-quality wine ran dry, China’s million-dollar men clustered together for a snapshot: Liu Xiaodong, Fang Lijun, Yue Minjun and the man of this particular hour, Zhang Xiaogang, whose work filled the 22,000 square feet of gallery space surrounding them… How times have changed. Liu, thoughtful and soft-spoken, a quiet presence behind black-framed glasses, sold one of his large-scale paintings last year at auction for $7.95 million (all figures U.S.). His previous best, in 2006, set a record at the time at $3.2 million; Yue claimed the title in 2007, selling paintings for $4.2 million, then $5.9 million, before passing it on to Zhang last year, when he registered $6.1 million. They’ve all since been surpassed by Zeng Fanzhi, whose “Mask Series, 1996” sold in 2008 for $9.7 million.

Before the economic crisis put a dent in the Chinese art market last year, figures like these had become commonplace. But before you start to think the boom has deflated, think again. Zhang’s opening, which inaugurated Pace’s Beijing gallery, was in September. Through a translator, Pace chairman Arnie Glimcher told the assembled media – TV crews, a throng of paparazzi-style photographers, newspapers, magazines – that “the most interesting art in the world today is in China.”