论文部分内容阅读
When asked about their favorite pop stars， most Chinese youngsters in the 1990s would have named singers from Hong Kong or Taiwan. During the early aughts， the answer was frequently some South Korean or Japanese idols or pop bands before expanding to cover Western household names such as Taylor Swift and Justin Bieber. In contemporary China， “idol” has become a term to refer to an attractive pop star who gained fame as the winner of a song or dance contest. Most try to extend their time in the spotlight as long as possible by appearing on reality shows and audition for film and television roles， through which they can amass enormous fan bases of teenagers and young adults.
In 2018， the popularity of Chinese mainland reality shows featuring the “idol training” mode originating in Japan and South Korea has become a craze that is hard to avoid witnessing on television sets across China. This mode aims to “produce” pop idols through months or even years of arduous training of young performers. Market analysts have reported that the trend heralds the emergence of the “idol training”industry in China.
Tough Road to Stardom
Wu Qingli is a 19-year-old Hong Kong citizen who grew up in Shenzhen. She used to work parttime as a model while in school.“Hong Kong is too small to really make it big，” she lamented. With a dream of becoming an idol trainee， she ventured to Beijing alone in May 2018， turning a new page in her life.
In Beijing， Wu passed the recruitment exam of an entertainment agency and became a trainee—a necessary step for the overwhelming majority of youngsters hoping for a career in the entertainment industry. Trainees are subjected to arduous training： From Monday to Friday， Wu receives instruction on vocal music， dance， fitness and on-camera training from day to night. She averages four classes per day， each lasting two hours. Moreover， trainees like her have to face difficult weekly， monthly， quarterly and semi-yearly exams， any of which can result in expulsion.
Considering Wu’s on-camera experience and Mandarin fluency， the agency named her hostess of the quarterly performance， which gives her greater exposure than other trainees. Generally， an entertainment agency will strictly control the exposure of its trainees. However， it will also recommend qualified trainees to relevant talent competitions.
Unlike Wu， 21-year-old Duan Yaoqi was a total outsider to the entertainment industry before becoming a trainee. “As a child， I studied the violin and dance and dreamed of becoming an artist，” he recalled. “Following my parents’wishes， I majored in computer science， despite having little interest in it.”
Duan wasn’t happy in college.“As a technical college， my school didn’t have any sort of dance association. I had to learn dance at an after-school training class.”After careful consideration， he dropped out of college as a junior and trekked from his hometown of Taiyuan to Beijing， where he became a trainee in an entertainment agency.
After months of training， Duan’s singing and dancing skills improved considerably. At a recent public performance， he performed two dances. However， life as a trainee isn’t always fun. “My every training schedule is very tight and exhausting，” Duan sighed. “After returning home， the first thing I want to do is to collapse on my bed.” Now， his closest friends in Beijing are all trainees at the same agency. “Similar experiences give us many topics for casual conversation， but this tendency also limits the scope of my social network.”
Fast-growing Market
If Wu and Duan finish training and excel in every examination， their agency will arrange their official debuts based on their strengths and the market situation. Despite their promising career prospects， they must first endure rigorous training and survive brutal knockout exams. Chinese idol trainees face enormous pressure although the situation isn’t yet quite as bad as in South Korea， where only about one in 800 trainees can complete the entire program.
“I’ll consider changing my career direction if I fail to debut after two or three years of training，” Wu said.
The industrialization of idol training originated in Japan in the 1980s. Back then， several girl bands emerged and exploded overnight. Since the late 1990s， increasing numbers of boy bands led by South Korea’s H.O.T. have gradually gained popularity. Typically， a boy band includes at least a dancer， a vocal singer and a rapper.
Market analysts trace the Chinese mainland’s pop idol market’s emergence to 2012. Despite the fact that a few trainees returning from overseas had become pop idols， not until 2012 did idol training really happen on the Chinese mainland. The shift was evidenced by the online popularity of TFBOYS， a teenager band consisting of Wang Junkai， Wang Yuan and Yi Yangqianxi. The same year， the Chinese girl band SNH48， with members trained in Japan， took shape， and the Chinese-South Korean boy group EXO-M debuted， of which all four Chinese members later became influential pop idols. Over the past few years， the Chinese mainland’s idol market has witnessed explosive development. From 2016 and 2017， more than 20 boy bands emerged on the Chinese mainland. In 2018， two idol training reality shows， Idol Producer and Produce 101， continued dominating online video platforms. The 12-episode Idol Producer attracted over 3 billion views， and the 10-episode Produce 101 registered nearly 5.1 billion views. China’s pop idol market is predicted to reach 100 billion yuan （US$14.4 billion） by 2020.
Reflections on the Idol Craze
The idol craze has drawn attention from all over Chinese society. For instance， most idol training reality shows focus on talent competitions， which can quickly become too repetitive. Moreover， vulgarity on such reality shows as well as the extreme commercialization of idols has also sparked criticism. The public worries whether pop idols can generate positive energy and serve as good role models for teenagers.
Anxiety is also building among parents of idol trainees. “At first， my parents didn’t support my decision to become a trainee，” Wu Qingli revealed. Her parents eventually relented after a long “standoff.”
“My parents said I could stay obsessed with something only after I got a clear idea about what I really want and like，” Wu added.
At first， Duan Yaoqi’s parents were not happy about their son dropping out of college to pursue dance. It took a long， painful period of time for them to finally accept Duan’s decision.
In fact， public concern about the phenomenon is understandable. Idol trainees average in age from 20 to 28 years， and the overwhelming majority of fans are tweens and teens. What kinds of role models young idols are for teenagers is an issue worthy of considerable attention.
“I don’t think my daughter can learn anything valuable from stories of overnight success，”commented Jin Shan， a 38-year-old media professional. “Perhaps my view is a bit cynical. Young trainees do make painstaking efforts， but I still don’t like that they give up on school at such a young age. Seeking to make a fortune and become famous may be a personal choice， but I don’t hope this becomes a model for personal development envied by today’s teenagers.”
In 2018， the popularity of Chinese mainland reality shows featuring the “idol training” mode originating in Japan and South Korea has become a craze that is hard to avoid witnessing on television sets across China. This mode aims to “produce” pop idols through months or even years of arduous training of young performers. Market analysts have reported that the trend heralds the emergence of the “idol training”industry in China.
Tough Road to Stardom
Wu Qingli is a 19-year-old Hong Kong citizen who grew up in Shenzhen. She used to work parttime as a model while in school.“Hong Kong is too small to really make it big，” she lamented. With a dream of becoming an idol trainee， she ventured to Beijing alone in May 2018， turning a new page in her life.
In Beijing， Wu passed the recruitment exam of an entertainment agency and became a trainee—a necessary step for the overwhelming majority of youngsters hoping for a career in the entertainment industry. Trainees are subjected to arduous training： From Monday to Friday， Wu receives instruction on vocal music， dance， fitness and on-camera training from day to night. She averages four classes per day， each lasting two hours. Moreover， trainees like her have to face difficult weekly， monthly， quarterly and semi-yearly exams， any of which can result in expulsion.
Considering Wu’s on-camera experience and Mandarin fluency， the agency named her hostess of the quarterly performance， which gives her greater exposure than other trainees. Generally， an entertainment agency will strictly control the exposure of its trainees. However， it will also recommend qualified trainees to relevant talent competitions.
Unlike Wu， 21-year-old Duan Yaoqi was a total outsider to the entertainment industry before becoming a trainee. “As a child， I studied the violin and dance and dreamed of becoming an artist，” he recalled. “Following my parents’wishes， I majored in computer science， despite having little interest in it.”
Duan wasn’t happy in college.“As a technical college， my school didn’t have any sort of dance association. I had to learn dance at an after-school training class.”After careful consideration， he dropped out of college as a junior and trekked from his hometown of Taiyuan to Beijing， where he became a trainee in an entertainment agency.
After months of training， Duan’s singing and dancing skills improved considerably. At a recent public performance， he performed two dances. However， life as a trainee isn’t always fun. “My every training schedule is very tight and exhausting，” Duan sighed. “After returning home， the first thing I want to do is to collapse on my bed.” Now， his closest friends in Beijing are all trainees at the same agency. “Similar experiences give us many topics for casual conversation， but this tendency also limits the scope of my social network.”
Fast-growing Market
If Wu and Duan finish training and excel in every examination， their agency will arrange their official debuts based on their strengths and the market situation. Despite their promising career prospects， they must first endure rigorous training and survive brutal knockout exams. Chinese idol trainees face enormous pressure although the situation isn’t yet quite as bad as in South Korea， where only about one in 800 trainees can complete the entire program.
“I’ll consider changing my career direction if I fail to debut after two or three years of training，” Wu said.
The industrialization of idol training originated in Japan in the 1980s. Back then， several girl bands emerged and exploded overnight. Since the late 1990s， increasing numbers of boy bands led by South Korea’s H.O.T. have gradually gained popularity. Typically， a boy band includes at least a dancer， a vocal singer and a rapper.
Market analysts trace the Chinese mainland’s pop idol market’s emergence to 2012. Despite the fact that a few trainees returning from overseas had become pop idols， not until 2012 did idol training really happen on the Chinese mainland. The shift was evidenced by the online popularity of TFBOYS， a teenager band consisting of Wang Junkai， Wang Yuan and Yi Yangqianxi. The same year， the Chinese girl band SNH48， with members trained in Japan， took shape， and the Chinese-South Korean boy group EXO-M debuted， of which all four Chinese members later became influential pop idols. Over the past few years， the Chinese mainland’s idol market has witnessed explosive development. From 2016 and 2017， more than 20 boy bands emerged on the Chinese mainland. In 2018， two idol training reality shows， Idol Producer and Produce 101， continued dominating online video platforms. The 12-episode Idol Producer attracted over 3 billion views， and the 10-episode Produce 101 registered nearly 5.1 billion views. China’s pop idol market is predicted to reach 100 billion yuan （US$14.4 billion） by 2020.
Reflections on the Idol Craze
The idol craze has drawn attention from all over Chinese society. For instance， most idol training reality shows focus on talent competitions， which can quickly become too repetitive. Moreover， vulgarity on such reality shows as well as the extreme commercialization of idols has also sparked criticism. The public worries whether pop idols can generate positive energy and serve as good role models for teenagers.
Anxiety is also building among parents of idol trainees. “At first， my parents didn’t support my decision to become a trainee，” Wu Qingli revealed. Her parents eventually relented after a long “standoff.”
“My parents said I could stay obsessed with something only after I got a clear idea about what I really want and like，” Wu added.
At first， Duan Yaoqi’s parents were not happy about their son dropping out of college to pursue dance. It took a long， painful period of time for them to finally accept Duan’s decision.
In fact， public concern about the phenomenon is understandable. Idol trainees average in age from 20 to 28 years， and the overwhelming majority of fans are tweens and teens. What kinds of role models young idols are for teenagers is an issue worthy of considerable attention.
“I don’t think my daughter can learn anything valuable from stories of overnight success，”commented Jin Shan， a 38-year-old media professional. “Perhaps my view is a bit cynical. Young trainees do make painstaking efforts， but I still don’t like that they give up on school at such a young age. Seeking to make a fortune and become famous may be a personal choice， but I don’t hope this becomes a model for personal development envied by today’s teenagers.”