Though China’s interest in the arts is at an all-time high, a glut of graduates remains unsure of the field’s career prospects.
For Jacky Zhang, a senior majoring in art history at a college in Hamilton, New York, running a gallery in New York City – dealing with young artists at the cutting edge of a global, trendsetting scene – would be nothing short of a dream job. But the young man was quick to admit the chances of realising this goal are slim. With tightening visa policies in the United States and a tough job market for art graduates all over the world, he may have to take what he can get. “I’ll return to China if I fail the visa lottery, but it wouldn’t be easy there either,” said Zhang, one of an increasing number of Chinese students pursuing art-related degrees at home and abroad.
While science, technology, engineering, mathematics (STEM) diplomas are popular choices in the age of artificial intelligence, there is growing interest among China’s affluent families in sending their children to art schools – spurred by a nationwide culture craze and fierce competition in other academic subjects. But how they will make a living after graduation is a big question that has remained unanswered for many as the domestic landscape is – at the moment – too small to support an enlarged talent pool, industry observers said.
The rising popularity in China for studying art coincided with a culture craze in recent years, with parents embracing museums, performances and artistic education like never before. Parents in China seem to have realised a museum visit is a must Evelyn Zhang, West Bund Art and Design Fair Evelyn Zhang, development director of Shanghai’s West Bund Art and Design Fair and the mother of an eight-year-old, said compared with a few years ago – when parents would take their kids to science or astronomy museums – art is becoming more important. “When I took my family to Xinjiang this summer, we tried to visit an exhibition, but it was impossible to get tickets,” she said. “Parents in China seem to have realised a museum visit is a must.”
This shift in cultural priorities is driven in part by improved living conditions, she said. “When basic needs like food and clothing are met, people start seeking higher pursuits, and art is part of that,” Evelyn Zhang added.
With the global art market in contraction last year, China managed to buck the trend with a post-pandemic boost, according to the Art Basel and UBS Global Art Market Report released in March. Art sales in China, including Hong Kong, increased by 9 per cent to an estimated US$12.2 billion, second only to the US. Mirroring this trend, China’s new generation of parents – mostly born in the 1970s and 1980s – appear to have a different perspective on education compared to their forebears. While the older cohort focused on their children’s income prospects after graduation, the new generation places less of a premium on earnings so long as children can survive on their own, Evelyn Zhang said.
“When I was young, my parents pushed me towards practical fields like finance and international economics,” she recalled. “They’d ask, ‘what’s the use of art?’” Student Jacky Zhang agreed that the voluntary study of art often reflects a stable family background. “In the US, for example, art schools are among the most expensive, not to mention the cost of art supplies, yet the starting salaries are the lowest,” he said. “Most art students I know come from well-off families.”
China now has a middle-income population 500 million strong, up 100 million from 2019 when the last official estimate was made, according to a March report by the state-owned Economic Daily. Young Chinese artist Pu Yingwei sees a closer connection between art and society in China today as the middle class expands. Art fairs, museum events and exhibitions are helping people understand studying art is not useless, he said. “Art is inherently interesting and relaxing. Many parents, after working hard for a lifetime, want their children to experience art,” said the 35-year-old, who also works as a writer and curator. “On the other hand, it’s easier to get into good art schools abroad. For example, getting into a well-ranked UK art school is much easier than qualifying through cultural studies.” Other majors such as science, he explained, often have higher requirements in academic studies and competition is usually bigger.
But as China’s art education system undergoes crucial reforms, the competition is getting fierce. In 2002, China saw its first surge in art entrance exam applications, with 32,000 students registering. By 2013, the number exceeded 1 million and has hovered above that level since, according to figures from education authorities. Starting this year, the academic requirements for art students have become more stringent. “In the past, if you were weak in academics, studying art helped compensate for that. But now, the academic weight in the art exam has increased, making it much tougher for us,” said Wang Lulu, a first-year student at Jilin Animation Institute.
If you’ve spent a lot of money studying art only to end up working in a government job, it doesn’t make much sense Jacky Zhang, art history student Despite growing fascination with art studies, many students said they were unprepared for their career paths after graduation. In a survey of about 1,000 art students in China and abroad, around 85 per cent said they found it difficult to find a job or become an independent artist. The survey was conducted by Incendio Art Pathways, a Shanghai-headquartered art career advisory firm, earlier this year.
“In the US, even though the art job market is cold, the number of applicants keeps rising,” Jacky Zhang said. “In China, one of the main avenues for employment is becoming a civil servant. However, if you’ve spent a lot of money studying art only to end up working in a government job, it doesn’t make much sense.”
In recent years, China’s civil service system has gradually relaxed restrictions on art-related positions by adding more roles. There was a 6.6 per cent increase in art-related civil service positions at the national level this year, with plans to recruit 39,561 graduates, according to figures from the National Civil Service Administration.
An overall bleak job market for art graduates, especially in the private sector, has not helped matters. For the class of 2024, as of May, 57 per cent of students had found employment, with the rest pursuing further education or waiting for opportunities, according to an online survey conducted by China Art Weekly, a publication under Zhejiang Daily publishing group. Of those, 65 per cent entered public institutions, while 20 per cent joined private enterprises or galleries and 15 per cent became freelancers.
Early last year, the University of California, Berkeley reported a 73 per cent increase in arts and humanities students over the past decade. Figures released by the Federal Reserve Bank of New York in February suggested that art history majors had an 8 per cent unemployment rate, followed by liberal arts and fine arts majors at 7.9 per cent each. Over half of graduates in all three categories were “underemployed”, or doing work that does not require a college degree.
Evelyn Zhang pointed out that even graduates in fields like jewellery or fashion design often feel lost when it comes to career development. “Creative industries are filled with uncertainty, and students often reach graduation unsure of what to do next,” she said. “This can create a sense of disillusionment, leading some to give up on their artistic ambitions altogether.”
Many graduates of China’s top art schools, like the China Academy of Art and the Central Academy of Fine Arts, eventually leave the art world. “Not many continue working as artists. Most end up teaching art or working in completely unrelated fields,” she said. And she attributed this to a lack of commercialisation and structure. “It’s not as transparent or systematic as the finance industry, where you know exactly what banks exist and how they operate,” Evelyn Zhang added. The roles which may or may not exist in galleries or museums is unclear, as is what those institutions actually do, she noted.
Art organisations often lack proper training, while many galleries operate like workshops. “Students who study abroad come back totally unprepared, finding a market that operates very differently from what they experienced overseas,” she said.
Pu, who completed his undergraduate study at the Sichuan Fine Arts Institute in western China and a postgraduate programme at the French art school Ensba Lyon, added that while many of his classmates from his undergraduate years found work, becoming a professional artist is still rare. “Some of my classmates work in art-related roles at companies, others at art institutions, while some have opened training centres. A few teach in universities or high schools, and some work in interior design,” he said.
General perception appears to be that the supply of art graduates in the domestic market now far exceeds demand. The Ministry of Education in November ordered educational institutions to “optimise the structure of art majors, and reasonably arrange enrolment plans”. “For majors with insufficient social demand and low training quality, the enrolment plan should be reduced or enrolment should be stopped,” the ministry said.
However, Pu remained optimistic. “As society continues to develop, people will seek out better-quality content, whether it’s a beautiful painting or stylish home decor,” he said. “Art will increasingly become a necessity.”
Evelyn Zhang agreed that China’s art market has room for growth, as the needs of the middle class have not been fully explored. “For instance, where can you buy a painting that costs between 1,000 and 2,000 yuan? I don’t even know,” she said – even with 15 years of experience in the field. “The entire industry needs to become more structured and transparent, with standardised practices.”
Mandy Zuo,Ralph Jennings