Sign In / Register
Make This My Home Page | Feedback |RSS
You are here: IE »   Story

Silent turns at the Peking opera

  • Print
  • Mail This Article
  • Comments
  • Add to favorites
  • Qiu Jirong sits at a mirror in his dressing room, painstakingly applying his theatre makeup. First the white, then firm strokes of gold, black and finally red—the face paint that will transform him into a coloruful fairy-tale character in China’s iconic national art form: the Peking opera. For a few hours, he feels the power that only the stage can bring. His shrill arias rise to a near-impossibly high pitch as he gestures to the pounding clang of drums and cymbals. But the transformation is short-lived. Soon, the classically trained actor, 22, must return to reality: before the curtain falls, he scans the audience and sees mostly empty seats.

    The 200-year-old art form performed by six generations of Qiu’s family is losing fans among younger Chinese, who shun its theatrics and trademark tales of generals, concubines and emperors for more modern artistic fare.

    The number of Peking opera touring troupes has dwindled as the performances have become a subsidised staple of state-run television. Even free tickets to live shows go unclaimed. Its stalwarts remain mostly elderly Chinese and foreigners. For the young, the stilted pageants have become something of a cultural embarrassment. Now the government is launching a campaign to save the once-beloved opera. Academies have renewed the call for new students.

    Ads by Google

    Late last year, an ornate new centre opened in Beijing to focus nearly exclusively on the opera. The 1,100-seat Meilanfang Grand Theatre will use an aggressive advertising campaign and reduced ticket prices in an effort to attract larger crowds.

    “Without state support, it will suffer the fate of classical music and opera in the West—left to the elite to keep it afloat. Back in the early 1900s, these operas were really part of the air people breathed. Now the stories are no longer a part of the lives of the audience,” says Joshua Goldstein, an associate professor of Chinese history at the University of Southern California whose specialty is Peking opera.

    Some say the changes don’t necessarily have to be contemporary in nature. Kenneth Pai, a retired University of California, Santa Barbara, professor and Peking opera expert, has created an adaptation of a kunqu opera, a forerunner to the Peking opera, a sumptuous nine-hour production that he has toured throughout China and played to sold-out audiences at four state universities in California. “Even at nine hours long, over three nights, it attracted a lot of people,” he says.

    Peking opera dates to the late 1790s, during China’s Qing dynasty, when audiences became transfixed by its blend of stylised action, singing, dialogue, mime, acrobatic fighting and dancing.

    Although Qiu Jirong makes his living from it, the slender man with delicate features prefers modern dance, hip-hop and Michael Jackson to the stodgy rhythms of his art form.

    Comments
    Post comment

    Be the first to comment.

    Post a Comment
    Name:
    Email:
    Title:
    Maximum characters allowed     
    Comment:
    TERMS OF USE:
    The views, opinions and comments posted are your, and are not endorsed by this website. You shall be solely responsible for the comment posted here. The website reserves the right to delete, reject, or otherwise remove any views, opinions and comments posted or part thereof. You shall ensure that the comment is not inflammatory, abusive, derogatory, defamatory &/or obscene, or contain pornographic matter and/or does not constitute hate mail, or violate privacy of any person (s) or breach confidentiality or otherwise is illegal, immoral or contrary to public policy. Nor should it contain anything infringing copyright &/or intellectual property rights of any person(s).
    I agree to the terms of use.