Introduction

‘The world is bright, the land is vast, autumn is here. Tuoken and her child moved to the county so he could go to school. Sultan sold half his sheep and went deeper into the mountains. My mother followed Aybek back to the countryside…’. In the final moments of the Chinese television series To the Wonder (我的阿勒泰 2024), the protagonist, Wenxiu, a young Han¹ woman, quietly narrates the story of those she has come to know during her time in the nomadic Kazakh community.² Following her gentle narration, the programme moves through scenes of each character, who appear against the vast rural landscapes. We see Tuoken, the Kazakh mother, migrating with her child, Sultan, the traditional Kazakh patriarch and Wenxiu’s mother, Fengxia, who has rooted herself in the local community. As the series concludes the story of the characters, To the Wonder also crystallizes the landscape as a shaping force in the construction of characters. The extensive coverage and aesthetic depiction of the breathtaking rural landscapes — the pastures, snow-capped mountains, and streams — is often viewed as crucial to the series’ triumph (IQIYI 2024a).

The series achieved widespread commercial success upon its release, climbing to and maintaining the top position among the most-watched shows on both television and streaming platforms in China. Additionally, it made history as the first Chinese series to be shortlisted for the Best Long-form Series category at the Cannes International Series Festival. State media outlet Xinhua News Agency praised the series for its depiction of ethnic unity and its detailed portrayal of Altay’s stunning natural landscapes (Cheng 2024). The People’s Daily commended the show’s attention to local minority cultures that contributed to the constitution of a vibrant community, especially the depiction of traditional Kazakh clothing, festivals, and everyday customs (Rui 2024).

On the other hand, To the Wonder could also be viewed as reinforcing an idealized vision of idyllic Kazakh life. Critics argued that it is a cultural product structured by the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) ethnic policies. The state-funded television series foregrounds selected landscapes and romanticizes, or even exoticizes, its Kazakh characters. Thus, this aesthetic strategy risks turning Kazakh culture and lifestyle into visual spectacles meant for consumption by mainstream (primarily Han) audiences (Salimjan 2024).

The major success and cultural significance of To the Wonder inevitably foreground the otherwise less prominent Kazakh ethnic group, bringing it into nationwide visibility. It becomes imperative to investigate how Kazakhs identify themselves as being shaped and mediated through televisual representation, shedding light on the evolving forms of the group’s presence in contemporary China. This article conducts close readings of the eight episodes of To the Wonder, with a focused examination of the representation of the rural landscape to argue that it perpetuates an idealized, romanticized vision of rural life, deflecting critical inquiry, erasing deeper histories associated with Kazakh land and reinforcing a cultural fantasy of pastoral purity tied to Kazakh identity.

A History of the Chinese Rural Television

The Reform and Opening-Up policy initiated in 1978 transformed the landscape of Chinese television, accelerating its modernization and integration with the market. This era of Chinese television was characterized by the emergence of dramas that reimagined rural space and rurality in more nuanced and contested terms (Zhang 2015).³ The early 2000s also saw a growing geographical diversification in terms of narrative settings in Chinese rural television. Dramas began to include settings in ethnic minority regions of the southwest and northwest China. For example, Silent Emin River (静静的艾敏河 2000) tells the story of Mongolian herders raising orphans from Shanghai; Kangding Love Song (康定情歌 2004) shifts focus to a Tibetan area in southwest China, portraying a romance between a Han and a Tibetan in vast Tibet plateau; Tea Horse Road (茶马古道 2005), set against the backdrop of World War II, follows three ethnic minority families’ endeavor to resist the Japanese aggression in Yunnan; and Poplar Woman (胡杨女人 2010) depicts the story of a rural Mongolian woman’s as she strives on the grassland to repay her father’s debts. These series reflect an expanding representational horizon in Chinese rural television, foregrounding ethnic minority figures as part of the broadening national identity of the ‘Chinese nation’ (中华民族). In doing so, these narratives embrace a variety of local customs, regional dialects, and visual styles (H. Yang 2013), and are being increasingly conceived as a space enriched with ethnic diversity. The rural becomes both a window into localized ways of life and, through the overarching theme of ethnic harmony, a symbolic site within the state’s ethnic discourses (Leibold 2013).

A decade into the new millennium, the emergence of online television platforms, as exemplified by companies like Youku, Tencent Video, iQIYI, Mango TV, BiliBili, and Sohu Video, have all signaled Chinese television’s digital transformation (Keane 2015). Simultaneously, rurality in Chinese rural dramas has undergone a notable turn toward a more pastoral representation. This transformation is exemplified by productions such as Green Water and Green Hills With a Smile (绿水青山带笑颜 2020), Romance on the Farm (田耕纪 2023), Meet Yourself (去有风的地方 2023), Tasty Life (爱在炊烟袅袅时 2024), and To the Wonder (我的阿勒泰 2024). While differing in themes and focusing on various different areas of the country, these dramas are all marked by a shared idyllic aesthetic, which draws upon classical ideals of the countryside as a space of purity (Short 2006). This is especially evident in their romanticized depictions of rural landscapes. For instance, the expansive green rice paddies and tea fields in Tasty Life. Here, rurality becomes inextricably linked with the natural landscape. Equally significant is the narrative tempo these dramas adopt, which is characterized by slowness and healing. In light of these features, platforms and media outlets have coined a new subgenre to describe these works: Idyll Healing dramas (田园治愈剧). As Xinhua News Agency noted in its commentary on Romance on the Farm: ‘The agrarian life of rising with the sun and resting at dusk gives each day a clear purpose. You can feel the slow rhythm of life, savor the surprises that the land brings, and rediscover inner peace’ (Xinhua Net 2023).

These works resonate with Raymond Williams’ (1975) theorization of the pastoral as a cultural and historical construction that renders rural life as an idealization. The romanticized natural landscapes and therapeutic lifestyle are better understood as artistic devices, with the pastoral spatio-temporal realm serving more as a site of escapism for urban audiences than one connected to rural realities (Gifford 2019). While in the Chinese context, rural idyll dramas have enriched the visual and narrative imagination of rural space, and also potentially expanded representations of the countryside to a broader, aesthetically driven audience through streaming platforms. This ‘mystification’ of rural realities could serve to naturalize certain social relations, potentially rendering the pastoral as a form of ‘cultural fantasy’ (Short 2006: 144). While this form of rural idyll selectively excludes certain portrayals, such as rural crime, unemployment, homosexuality, and homelessness (DuPuis 2006; Somerville et al. 2015). Its displacement of contemporary rural realities finds a striking overlap with the rural healing genre and what Lauren Berlant (2006: 2) conceptualizes as the ‘good-life genre.’ Both frameworks center on emotional reassurance by offering healing, but they do so by sidelining the harsh and perhaps enduring social realities that prevent such healing from being truly accessible to everyone.

This idyllic vision of rural life has ‘emerged as the most influential lens through which to conceive of rural life’ (Peeren and Souch 2019: 38). In PRC, To the Wonder is arguably the most acknowledged TV content contributing to this development. While the earlier state-funded television production portrayals of the countryside were filled with pedagogy about party doctrines, this paper aims to demonstrate how To the Wonder presents a distinctive rural landscape, foregrounding its residents and spatial relations in an aestheticized manner.

To the Wonder as a commercial and political product

The making of To the Wonder is emblematic of the shifting television production direction in China, which as Wang Xiaohui, the Chief Content Officer of IQIYI states: ‘is increasingly oriented toward high standards, consistency, and innovation, not only in audiovisual techniques and narrative complexity, but in depicting meaningful stories that uphold social values, resonate with the public, and provoke thoughts’ (IQIYI 2024b). Prior to the series’ premiere, it was manufactured as the flagship production for iQIYI’s newly launched brand, ‘Weichen Theater’ (微尘剧场), which specializes in realistic-style dramas that prioritize offering top-notch audio-visual experience. These stylistic and aesthetic pursuits were reflected in the series’ production context. The series’ director, Teng Congcong, comes from a filmmaking background, with her works having been shortlisted for several national awards. This creative decision by iQIYI further enhanced the series’ alignment with more ‘cinematic’ audio-visual and narrative approaches. At the same time, as Wang Xiaohui observes, such shifts are fundamentally about aligning with audience demands, as the ‘(audiences) return to reality and self-reflection has become the dominant trend, reshaping content creation needed to be done accordingly’ (IQIYI 2024b). His remark underscores the market’s role as a crucial force that drives the emergence of quality television, simultaneously, it demonstrates that Chinese television in the streaming era is continually shaped by audience and broader societal trends.

Furthermore, To the Wonder is also a state-funded project under the NRTA Online Audiovisual Program Excellence Initiative (网络视听节目精品创作传播工程扶持项目) (Y. Wang 2024), To the Wonder is emblematic of the Chinese state media regulatory bodies’ efforts to advance ‘New Era Quality Productions’ (新时代精品工程), positioning quality television as a vehicle for cultural governance (National Radio and Television Administration 2024). Moreover, as being addressed at the 11th China Internet Audio-Visual Conference in March 2024, Cao Shumin, the Director of the NRTA, highlighted the crucial roles these state-funded initiatives played in supporting the production of high-quality series by ‘setting the direction, guiding values, promoting creativity, and ensuring excellence’. She further states that, ‘through these efforts, the streaming television industry has experienced rapid growth’, thereby, ‘playing a significant role in expanding the ideological and propaganda front, strengthening China’s position as a leading network power and contributing to national economic and social development’ (X. Wang 2024). Cao’s statement represents the stance of the NRTA, an authoritative body that manages and oversees all media content in China (W. Y. Wang and Lobato 2019). It also reflects the Chinese government’s evolving view of television’s role in society. Through state-funded initiatives, the government incorporates quality series within its ideological paradigm and positions it in alignment with the state interests, thereby, framing productions like To the Wonder as an extension of cultural governance.

Filming Rural Landscape

The analysis focuses on character portrayal, landscape imagery, dialogue, and sound, all of which contribute to positioning Kazakh characters as a part of a fluid and relational assemblage that fuses rurality, ethnicity, state policy, as well as technologies of production and distribution.

In April 2023, To the Wonder began filming in Burqin and Habahe, two counties located in northern Altay, Xinjiang province, home to Kazakhs, Mongols, Han Chinese, and other minority ethnic groups in China. This region is characterized by its diverse topography, including mountains, grassland plains, river valleys, deserts, and Gobi terrain. These elements are later portrayed in the series from multiple angles, including the use of aerial and wide-angle shots captured with high-definition cameras, and play a key role in constructing the rural idyll imagery that has been heavily promoted in the streaming era with the emergence of the ‘rural healing’ genre.

This emphasis on the audiovisual qualities and, to some extent, artistic values (Pan 2024) positions To the Wonder closer to cinematic aesthetics. As a result, some critics describe the series as having a ‘cinematic’ look (Xie 2024: 20). This claim resonates what John Caldwell (2020) refers to as the ‘film look’ in the context of 1980s British exhibitionist television. Although the use of the term ‘cinematic’ to describe television has become increasingly contested within academic discourse⁴, such characterizations nonetheless challenge earlier conventions. Questioning the longstanding idea that film-style cinematography and landscape imagery were always subordinate to narrative in television drama (Lukinbeal 2005). By embracing this ‘film look’, To the Wonder aligns with Helen Wheatley’s (2016: 5) concept of ‘spectacular television’, which she defines as a visual mode that ‘holds the viewer’s gaze, and which, if only for a moment, can be appreciated outside of the drive of the narrative.’ She goes on to identify ‘spectacular montage’ as central to this visual mode. Characterized by ‘montages of movement and travelling shots’ that offer the viewer a moment to ‘just look’ (149).

As a result, Wheatley’s concept facilitates the analysis of a sequence of landscape shots at the beginning of Episode 4 of To the Wonder (Figure 1), where approximately one and a half minutes of screen time are devoted to a montage portraying the landscape and human figures through extreme long shots and aerial views. This montage takes place after Wenxiu has become familiar with the local Kazakh community through everyday business interactions while assisting at her mother Fengxia’s shop. When summer approaches, she joins the migration team in their biannual seasonal migration that moves livestock from the valley winter pastures to the fertile summer pastures at a higher altitude. Being a traditional practice of Kazakh nomadic communities, seasonal migration has been carried out for generations across the grasslands. By rotating between multiple pastures, this practice sometimes prevents the depletion of local grazing resources (Benson and Svanberg 2016).

Figure 1: Kazakh herders in their seasonal migration journey. Source: To the Wonder, Episode 4.

Most of the montage features slow, sweeping shots of the landscape, alternating between long shots, extreme long shots, and aerial views to present a holistic image of the Kazakh herder groups. The herders are often shown moving swiftly on horseback, guiding large groups of sheep, camels, and horses across diverse terrains, from desert to expansive grasslands. These scenes are often presented from a distance, with minimal close-ups of the herders or animals. There is no dialogue, and the visuals are accompanied solely by soft, traditional Kazakh instrumental music. Moreover, in the montage, most ambient sounds, such as human voices or animal noises, are filtered out, leaving only the clear sound of horse hooves and a few subtle environmental sounds that can be identified. According to To the Wonder’s sound designer Zhang Nan, particular attention was given to capturing ambient audio that aligns with the intended mood of each scene (Dian 2024). As for this montage, it is a carefully composed interweaving of human bodies, livestock, rural landscapes, and cinematography, accompanied by a high-end audiovisual arrangement. While it offers an idealized rural space through the depiction of calming and magnificent grasslands, deserts, and diverse terrains, it also invites a preoccupied viewing that captivates the audience’s attention.

In addition to the well-orchestrated audiovisual experience, the depiction of the Kazakhs’ seasonal migration in To the Wonder presents another immediate sensory impression in terms of dynamics and mobility. For instance, the shooting style employs a continuous alternation between depth of field and angles through cutting between pan shots and aerial shots. Moreover, the visual language effectively captures the densely packed, restless throng of animals in motion, collectively creating an energetic visual expression (Figure 2).

Figure 2: Kazakh herders crossing the desert. Source: To the Wonder, Episode 4.

This strong sense of mobility is further reflected in the montage’s strategies in constructing the narrative time and space, which was achieved by sequencing shots that reflect the chronological passage of a single day, along with the diverse landscapes encountered by the migration group. This technique situates the Kazakh people as being in a perpetual state of movement and rootlessness, a condition that scholars of pastoralism in Xinjiang argue is precisely what defines mobility as an ‘inherent feature of pastoralism in Altay’ (Banks and Doman 2001: 5). More Kazakh researchers argue that in Kazakh pastoralism, mobility is fundamental to its daily existence, enabling swift movement through landscapes, which serves as a means of sustaining livelihoods, herding livestock, and adapting to the rapidly changing conditions of the expansive Central Asian hinterland.

The connection between Kazakhs and the landscape is further emphasized through the herders’ reliance on horses or camels to traverse vast terrain, in contrast to the inland society, where the existence of railways and highways minimizes the influence of the natural environment. Although in contemporary Kazakh society, modern vehicles like tractors and motorcycles are commonly used by Kazakh herders. To the Wonder deliberately omits the presence of these modern machines, or at least undermines the connection between the migration groups and these vehicles, allowing the landscape itself to shape the conditions of Kazakh mobility directly. For example, montage showcases that during the migration journey, the steepness of mountain slopes forces the group to move in a single-file line, while the openness of the desert enables the herders to ride freely across it. These features determine both the path and the pace of their movement. In fact, even before the seasonal migration begins, the landscape starts to shape the narrative. It is the harsh conditions of the Xiannü Bay trail, a necessary yet dangerous barren passage along the journey, that bring Wenxiu and Batay into the same migration group. Since Wenxiu is a Han outsider unfamiliar with the terrain, she can only follow and rely on the experience of Batay and his father, Sultan, to navigate the journey. Therefore, with the landscape signifying pastoral imagery, mobility, and to a certain extent, narrative progression, the landscape in To the Wonder can be viewed as carries its own form of agency by becoming integral to the narrative and functioning as ‘characters that change, disappear, and reappear in the lives of human beings’ (Horton 2003: 72).

When considering the assemblage of the landscape’s presence, the representation of human and animal mobility, and the earlier-mentioned camera composition, it becomes clear that this selected montage does not intend to draw attention solely to any individual subject. Instead, its relationality invites the viewer to take in the entire migration formation as a connected whole, closely bound to inform the Kazakh identity, as shaped through bodily movement that simultaneously gestures toward mobility and reveals the constraints on movement imposed by terrain. By foregrounding this interdependence between people and place, Kazakhs’ identity is further perceived as a landscape-mediated construction.

Along the seasonal migration journey, the visual juxtaposition of the migration group and modern infrastructural landscapes gives rise to tension between a developmental logic and traditional ways of living. For instance, midway through the montage in Episode 4, two scenes depict Kazakh herders framed against a sweeping backdrop. One features a distant industrial factory, and another a paved modern road (Figure 3). This recalls Souch et al.’s (2024: 275) insight into landscape-laden television, where the ‘tactical positioning of certain bodies against certain topographies, panoramas, vistas and skylines is increasingly part of contemporary long-form television drama.’ While the appearance of infrastructure within the landscape can be interpreted as an aesthetic choice, these elements are presented as a constitutive part of the landscape and, at the same time, participate in the assemblage that informs the construction of Kazakh identity in To the Wonder.

The first scene features a composition that is characterized by a dividing line which distinctly separates the frame into different spatial orders: the upper showcases the neatly arranged residential settlements and factory smokestacks, while the lower half captures the seasonal migration group, including herders, sheep, and camels moving horizontally and eventually out of the frame. This visual juxtaposition of pastoral life and industrial modernity is intensified by the composition and spatial configuration, which further positions the Kazakh community as distinct from the structure of sedentary (and implicitly Han-majority) society, and their inability to prevail in Post-socialist China.

Figure 3: Kazakh herders against infrastructural landscapes, Top: Industrial, Bottom: Paved road. Source: To the Wonder, Episode 4.

Considering the series is set in 2001, a time when China was undergoing intensified market reforms following its entry into the World Trade Organization (WTO), this contrasting spatial order in the visual juxtaposition foreshadows the economic precarity faced by Kazakh pastoralists under emerging developmental schemes. As Cerny (2010: 220) notes, ‘with the onset of economic reforms and an increasing emphasis on provincial-level economic development (often driven by revenue generation), land grabs and other forms of land title disenfranchisement have become common.’ At the same time, the environmental degradation caused by industrial expansion disproportionately affects marginalized herding communities. One direct consequence of this is the ‘Grassland utilization certificate’ (利用证) system, which assigns herder households exclusive use of grazing pastures and excludes others unless access is negotiated (229). Due to bureaucratic application procedures and the frequent delays in obtaining the certificate, some Kazakh herders face limitations in accessing high-quality pastures for their livestock. In To the Wonder, the visually positioned Kazakh body within the industrial structure creates a layered representation of identity that reflects the economic vulnerability of Kazakh pastoralists in the face of state developmental policies. This positioning generates a complex emotional register, echoing what Souch (2024) has described as the landscape’s active role in narrative construction, as it remains ‘not only as an aesthetic choice or a convenient backdrop but also as a language of signs and symbols that weave layers of meaning into the narrative investing it with particular resonance in these times of planetary distress’ (275-276). In the series, the growing distress among the Kazakhs stems not only from environmental degradation caused by industrial expansion, but also from the likely prospect of being expelled from their grazing lands by the developmental plans, backed by the entrepreneurial state.

As showcased in the same montage (Figure 3), the juxtaposition and further tension between the landscape and the herders and animals become especially visible when the migration group begins moving on a paved modern road. This tension is partly established through the use of ultra-wide-angle shots, which allow the group, the road, and its surroundings to be shown holistically in a single frame. In this scene, the group is positioned at the center of the frame. The composition is striking; the livestock stretch across both lanes, exceeding the road’s width. This scene features a blend of animals, herders, and brightly colored luggage, all set against the road’s straight, rigid form, painted lines, and symmetrical fencing on either side. Like the tension with industrial structures, this dissonance between the Kazakh herders and the structured road reinforces a sense of misalignment, or potential conflict, between the herders and the modern spatial order.

This sense of dissonance, particularly between Kazakh herders and the modern road, appears in other parts of the series as well. In the first episode, Sultan’s entrance takes place during a nighttime search for lost cattle along the roadside (Figure 4). The scene depicts him on horseback, riding across a vast, dark, and seemingly endless grassland, partially lit by the headlights of a slow-moving police car behind him. The police are there to assist in locating the animals, and several other vehicles are shown moving slowly under police instruction to ensure the safety of the herd. Under the ultra-wide-angle lens, Sultan’s figure sometimes appears small and hazy, positioned against the surrounding darkness of the steppe. This visual uncertainty becomes a way of showing how his presence subtly disrupts the logic of modern infrastructure. Moreover, after the cattle had been found, Sultan appeared completely indifferent to the line of vehicles waiting for his herd to pass, he remained calm and unhurried, guiding the herds in his usual manner. In these highly contested spaces, where rural landscapes are juxtaposed with modern infrastructure, the Kazakhs are often explicitly positioned as embodied figures navigating between tradition and transformation. Their identities are not only portrayed as being in tension with these systems, but at times are framed as conflicting with, or even disrupting, the expected order and flow of modern life. This is exemplified in scenes like Sultan’s seemingly unselfconscious obstruction of traffic, which subtly underscores this misalignment.

Figure 4: Sultan looking for cattle in the dark. Source: To the Wonder, Episode 1.

Furthermore, To the Wonder is visually embedded in a broader narrative of state-led development, especially via the portrayal of transportation and energy infrastructures. In the opening scene of Episode 1, Wenxiu is shown standing in a snow-covered landscape, gazing toward the Altay Mountains. While the viewer is initially positioned within a vast rural environment through Wenxiu’s perspective, the camera soon lingers on a single utility pole that cuts through the scenery. As the shot follows the electrical wires extending far into the wilderness and gradually disappearing into the snowy horizon, it quietly reveals the pervasive presence of national infrastructure, even in the most remote corners. This logic is made even more explicit in Episode 6, when Gao Xiaoliang arrives in Altay, hoping to make a fortune by exploiting jade stones. He is ambushed and beaten by his own crews, only to awaken disoriented in the middle of an open field. The scene is staged in the middle of a wind farm, a highly symbolic site. The juxtaposition of infrastructure, state-led modernization, and rural landscape thoughtfully situates Gao, whose being is depicted as that of an opportunistic, morally compromised Han ‘bad apples’ within national development discourses.

Moreover, as discussed, traditional Kazakh seasonal migration routes are also set against backdrops of highways, factories, and modern mobility infrastructure, further overshadowing the overarching presence of the developmental regime. On the one hand, there are characters like Wenxiu who show enthusiasm about plans to construct a new highway between the pastures. On the other hand, not everyone is ready to embrace this change, with conservative figures like Sultan resisting the transformation by refusing to surrender his ceremonial knives at the train station security checkpoint and insisting on riding a horse over long distances. However, it is also true that Sultan’s reluctance does not shield him from being enveloped by the state’s vision of progress. The series suggests that the state’s infrastructural presence is totalizing, and one does not need to actively participate in order to be shaped by it. Instead, through transportation, energy grids, and modernization initiatives, all characters, whether willing or not, are submerged in a development narrative that claims the landscape and remaps it under the logic of national growth.

While the above analysis has mostly unveiled the way Kazakhs are being positioned against the modern infrastructural landscapes in To the Wonder, the following analysis will consider the framing of natural landscapes, as well as how the environments are actively participating in the construction of a series of rural idyll, thereby transforming the Kazakh individual into an object of contemplative gaze (Wheatley 2016). Focusing on the male protagonist, a Kazakh young man Batay (played by a Han-Mongolian actor, Yu Shi), who stands out in the narrative due to his distinct appearance. Batay is visually distinguished by his darker complexion, flowing hair, and skilled horseback riding, all of which contribute to his distinct on-screen presence. He is often seen on the outside, in which, with the exception of the first episode, nearly every installment of the series features at least one scene showing him riding alone through open pastures or wilderness. These sequences are consistently framed using long or extreme long shots, typically placing Batay at the center of the composition.

A clear example of such a moment can be found at the beginning of Episode 7, which opens with Batay herding sheep (Figure 5). He soon notices Wenxiu in the distance, lying on the grassland by herself, and proceeds to ride toward her. From Batay noticing Wenxiu, to him finally reaching her, the sequence lasts about a minute. It consists entirely of repeated long and extremely long shots that focus solely on Batay’s horseback movement, placing him within a visually striking composition that includes the surrounding green meadows, distant pine forests, and snow-capped mountains along the horizon. As Wheatley (2016: 130) argues, this type of scene, which includes no dialogue and does not advance the storyline, serves primarily to ‘pause’ the narrative. She refers to such moments as ‘framing moments’, a mode of programme-making in which various audiovisual strategies are used ‘to temporarily halt the narrative progression within an episode’. Moreover, this type of shot can also be connected with Martin Lefebvre (2006)’s distinction between the ‘space of the story or event’ (20) and the ‘space freed from eventhood’ (22). The former refers to narrative-driven settings, while the latter, which Lefebvre calls ‘Landscape’, emerges when the visual field momentarily detaches from plot progression and invites the viewer to dwell on the image itself. Through the use of long shots, this pause in narrative action encourages the spectator to observe and absorb the environment, often creating a sense of spectacle, one that Lukinbeal (2005, 11) notes can ‘momentarily satisfying a voyeuristic appeal’ of the landscape. This visual strategy was reaffirmed by director Teng Congcong (2024), who claimed that color grading plays a significant role in setting the emotional tone and atmosphere of To the Wonder. Such a strategy is especially evident in the scene being discussed here, where the entire frame is rendered with a yellowish tint and a Polaroid-like texture. More importantly, this visual treatment frames the shot almost like a landscape painting.⁵

Figure 5: Batay riding across the wilderness. Source: To the Wonder, Episode 7.

Together with the deliberate composition of Batay, who always appears at the center, and the technologically enhanced portrayal of the environment, the series invites viewers into a promotional programme; it encourages the audience to gaze at and appreciate the image for its aesthetic qualities. When critically examining this viewing experience, it is important to consider the perspective offered by John Urry (2002: 3) who notes that ‘places are chosen to be gazed upon because there is an anticipation, especially through daydreaming and fantasy, contemplative mode of viewing’ (Wheatley 2016). Such viewing is much like a tourism of intense pleasures, either on a different scale or involving different senses from those customarily encountered’. In this scene, various elements come together to invite viewers into a pastoral daydream, one that immerses them in the picturesque sweeping landscapes. As the central figure in this romanticized vision, Batay becomes part of this imagined rural fantasy as he traverses the grasslands, reinforcing dominant expectations of how minority spaces and bodies should be presented on screen.

This mode of romanticized representation resonates with Gladney’s (1996) observations about the objectification of ethnic minorities in Chinese visual culture, where they are often portrayed as objects of fascination and desire. Drawing on Edward Said’s concept of Orientalism, Gladney coined the term ‘Oriental Orientalism’ to describe how the Han majority internalizes and reproduces these exoticized portrayals. His example of the Thai minority in China, specifically the eroticized and widely circulated image (on public billboards, national television, and tourism promotional materials) of Thai women bathing, demonstrates how such imagery is commodified and projected into the public sphere. A similar logic can be observed in state-sponsored media events, such as the annual Spring Festival Gala, where Kazakh and Mongolian performers are frequently staged against the backdrop of LED-displayed grasslands and pastoral images.⁶ These stereotypical visual tropes resonate closely with the representation of Kazakh characters in To the Wonder, collectively reinforcing a normalized association between minorities and certain types of landscape. In doing so, as Don Mitchell (2001: 211) argues, landscape becomes a stage for reaffirming dominant narratives of identity, naturalizing the linkage between space and ethnicity in a way that appears apolitical but is in fact ideologically charged.

Conclusion

This paper critically examines how the bodies of Kazakh herders are framed in relation to natural and infrastructural landscapes. It explored how this framing forms an assemblage of humans, animals, environment, mobility, and modern infrastructures. The camera is positioned outside the diegesis, portraying an aestheticized rural life that embeds Kazakh identity within tradition while being entangled in the processes of modernization. Moreover, following the trope of ethnic minority representation in Chinese popular culture (Gladney 1994), the Kazakh character Batay is thus positioned in this urban gaze by the Han audiences as an idealized rural imaginary (Williams 1975; Urry 2002), reinforcing mainstream expectations of how rural landscapes and Kazakh identities are typically represented and consumed on screen.

Since the early 2000s, the sedentarization of Kazakh pastoralists has increasingly been framed as necessary for facilitating access to education, healthcare, and environmental protection, as well as accommodating the growing influence of tourism in the region (J. Yang et al. 2014). The release of To the Wonder furthered this trend, with tourist arrivals reportedly increasing by over 40% (Wu 2024). Travel companies capitalized on the show’s popularity by promoting themed experiences with slogans such as, ‘Join Batay’s sunset dance party on the summer pasture, surrounded by yurts and livestock’, targeting largely Han domestic tourists eager to visit the show’s filming sites. As Lindström (2019) states, when dominant outside actors shape how a place and its people are represented, it often reinforces existing hierarchies and marginalization. In the case of Altay, the romanticized portrayal of rural landscapes risks accelerating the disconnection between Kazakh herders and their land, whose everyday realities clash with the tourist imagery. Kazakh communities now risk being reimagined as a kind of cultural hosts in a space increasingly curated for tourist consumption.

This ‘lucrative chaos,’ driven by both state and commercial actors, does have precedent, particularly in its targeting of Kazakh communities and their lands. The consequences extend beyond the gradual loss of grazing territory, encompassing more serious issues of human rights violations (Cliff 2016). In 2011, several hundred kilometers east of Altay, such an incident unfolded in the Qarajon Grasslands of Tekes County, located in the Ili Kazakh Autonomous Prefecture. Despite being recognized under its Chinese name on the UNESCO World Heritage list, the region became the site of state-imposed grazing bans spanning over 1,600 square kilometers, land that supported more than 200 pastoral households. Reports indicate that government authorities demolished Kazakh homes using heavy machinery and forcibly removed families without delivering the compensation initially promised. Much of the land was later repurposed for tourism development. In response, local Kazakhs organized mass protests, but these demonstrations were met with police crackdowns, including the arrest of herders (Salimjan et al. 2022; Harris and Isa Elkun 2023).

Although state authorities frequently justify the forced relocation of local populations by pointing to rising living standards linked to a booming tourism economy, scholars argue that the financial benefits generated through these developments essentially bypass local communities. Instead, profits tend to concentrate in tourism companies based in China’s eastern coastal cities and ultimately circulate back to those developed regions (Szadziewski et al. 2022). For Kazakh families who are permitted to remain, for instance by working in the tourism sector, their continued presence depends on commodifying their culture. Many operate businesses such as ‘Herder Family Happiness’ (牧家乐), a popular form of cultural tourism that invites visitors to experience an idealized version of rural Kazakh life. These offerings include trying on traditional clothing for photos, horseback rides, and overnight stays in yurts. This capitalist and voyeuristic narrative imposed onto the Kazakh lands transforms it into a ‘Disneyland on pasture’, catering solely to tourists’ desires to experience idyllic scenery and a romanticized ‘return to nature.’ Paradoxically, this staged authenticity is built on the displacement and silencing of the very people it claims to represent. In the end, all the awe and wonder evoked from these spectacular landscapes serve as a distraction, eventually concealing the structural marginalization and developmental violence faced by Kazakh communities.

Competing interests

The author has no competing interests to declare.