Xujiahui — “How could these seemingly disparate worlds co-exist? Wouldn't they come together and explode like anti-matter?”

010 : Matt Diehl at Logo Bar, Xujiahui
Born in 1968 in Evanston, USA, Matt Diehl currently works as writer/author. Why Shanghai? A strong hit of the future, today. He digs the following Shanghai bits: the enormous, weird flower sculpture in Gubei; the fact that you can take a boat to Tokyo from the Bund; how people have somehow confused pajamas with formal wear; everyone is incredibly nice and courteous, despite the Western media image of bureaucracy, bureaucracy, bureaucracy; the coolest Shanghai streetwear designer approved of his shoes; how green tea and Chivas is the most popular drink in Shanghai nightclubs (“Can’t wait for that to hit Los Angeles. It’s what I call a ‘Marilyn Monroe cocktail’ - i.e., it’s both an upper (from the caffeine) and downer (the alcohol), but with a spritz of trendy antioxidant power.”) He is, however, a bit miffed by Nothing. [As per Hitotoki dictates, here are Matt's favourite Shanghai supping spots instead: Thai House for Thai take-out; Tian Jia for crab and toro; Crystal Jade in the Xintiandi mall for dim sum; Din Tai Fung ("Soup dumplings, soup dumplings, soup dumplings...everything else was amazing, too."); Enoteca for wine and cheese.] For more info on Matt Diehl you should send an email or visit his MySpace page.

image: P Lee
“How could these seemingly disparate worlds co-exist? Wouldn't they come together and explode like anti-matter?”

As a Shanghai newbie (not “niu bi”^[1], which my trip turned out to be – see “cow’s bollocks” for a close translation), I was dazzled by the ride into the city from the airport. Having never been to Asia, I was not prepared for the sheer, undiluted futurism of the Shanghai skyline; while locals may be over it, its shamelessness and commitment to progress stunned my retinas.

After a quick, post-airport drop-off, I was rushed by my entourage to a restaurant in the back of an office building. Despite the odd location, it was a clean, minimalist, humming place; the beautiful quirk was that it only served delicious tuna sashimi and a tofu broth with vegetables^[2] – not what I expected for my first meal on the Chinese mainland. At dinner, I met brilliant, amazing people who were as creative as the visionaries that first drew me to move to New York City, an auspicious sign. Then, fully stuffed on tuna belly, we walked down the street to Logo^[3].

The second I walked in, my mind reeled. Not because it was the greatest bar in the world (Logo itself was familiar: dark, dank, smoky), or because the greatest music was playing (electronic music floated in the air like the haze of smoke), or because I met the love of my life (who knows? maybe I did…), but because it was so authentic and familiar, and clashed so brilliantly with my ride in from the airport. It was full of writers, artists, fashion illustrators, DJs and dancers – in other words, it was like the bars that drew me to move to NYC. (See a pattern here?)

How could this scene co-exist with the man-made sci-fi skyline I’d seen just hours earlier? How could these seemingly disparate worlds co-exist? Wouldn’t they come together and explode like anti-matter?

Within a couple of hours, I realized that on the one hand, Shanghai spoke in the lingua franca of young, creative urban bohemia. The people I was meeting had the energy, will and inspiration of those that initially made NYC exciting, which it no longer is (cf. “New York I Love You But You’re Bringing Me Down,” LCD Soundsystem). But even though this was all familiar, there was a movement and aesthetic that couldn’t have happened everywhere else; in this short time, I viscerally experienced the paradigm shift that hysterical headlines in the Western media about the “New Asia” couldn’t capture.

I knew this was largely an expat experience, and not the quote-unquote “real China”. But I felt that the “real China” infused the whole experience – it wouldn’t have been the same anywhere else. It was clear that the real China experience isn’t something that can be forced or diluted; it will find you, and that night in Shanghai, it was finding me in its own special way…

referenced works

“Niu bi” (literally, “cow’s vagina”) is a Chinese slang expression that takes on different meanings depending on the context. It can mean ‘very cool’, ‘badass’, or ‘cool’ in the approving, incredulous sense, or can be used to describe someone being pompous or boastful. ↩

Tian Jia is a small restaurant chain in Shanghai that specializes in crab and toro (the fatty belly portion of the bluefin tuna). ↩

Logo is a small bar in Shanghai, located on the fringes of the former French Concession, near Xujiahui. ↩

location information

Name: Logo Bar
Address: 13 Xingfu Lu
Time of story: Late NIght
Latitude: 31.224353
Longitude: 121.475916
Map: Google Maps

commentary

014 “The pages are half-soaked in noodle water, the edges of the letters blurred. ” — Denis Wong

013 “Hundreds of eyes continued to dart around me, hundreds of eyes continued to pass me over.” — Panthea Lee

012 “I could be anywhere, really. There are no landmarks here.” — Cam Rimington

011 “I strained to keep my eyes on that crazy perm but the automatic doors hissed shut and she was gone. ” — Parker Woltz

010 “How could these seemingly disparate worlds co-exist? Wouldn't they come together and explode like anti-matter?” — Matt Diehl

009 “It's strange how her hair seemingly reacts to her mood – her fountains wilt and slump when she is tired and grumpy. ” — Casey Whale

008 “Your bones are cold.” — Anita Hawkins

007 “Upon seeing the delinquent busker dragged from the scene with his trousers at his ankles, I felt lost. ” — Jack Sidders

006 “As we all stare at her open-mouthed, she starts to beg like a dog, barking and licking my hand. ” — Rose Longhurst

005 “It's like... one long catwalk of H&M zombies. Where are all the individuals?” — Paul Hartnett

004 “Like many aimless thirtysomethings, I balance violent fantasies of self-destruction with monthly pension payments. ” — Nick Barham

003 “It was only a 10-minute bike ride from city centre, but 10 minutes in the wrong direction. ” — Mark David Elliott

002 “I thought of the mutilated pig lying atop cardboard boxes of cereal and pasta, seeping trichinosis as the van bounced along. ” — Jay Mark Caplan

001 “And then there is only tumbling, hexagonal cold.” — Ric Stockfis

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