The Magic Erhu

No matter how I try, I will never do justice to the experience of a Beijing Opera performance with mere words. So I've employed a little AV assistance to try to recreate it as much as possible.

First, a disclaimer. Before watching the videos, I highly suggest putting on earphones if you're in public, or turning the volume down a bit if you're in the privacy of... somewhere private. Beijing Opera is not exactly known for being quiet.

Now, for the performance itself. We actually ended up going to Liyuan Theater, the same theater that I attended with my mom, so I was already pretty familiar with what was going to happen.

I think this particular venue has been crafted to cater specially to foreign guests, as it's a very watered-down version of Beijing Opera. The theater itself is more like an auditorium, with some tables in the front for people having snacks and tea, and then wall-to-wall rows of seats behind. Thanks to the Harvard Beijing Academy (or our tuition $$), our program had a set of tables already full of delicious snacks for us to eat,  as well as an exhibition of extreme tea pouring.

***

Now, the reasons I say Liyuan Theater has been created for foreigners are three-fold:

One

The Theater has about four or five actors sit in a lobby-like area right outside one of the theater entrances and allow the tourists to watch them put on their make-up. While I admit it was interesting to see up-close how they managed to effect their strange appearances, it also took away a little of the magic. I suppose it's a give-and-take.

Two

Flanking either side of the traditionally sparse Chinese stage, there are two gigantic light boards that simultaneously flash Chinese and English subtitles. Now, it might not exactly contribute to the feel of authenticity found in the older, more revered theaters of Beijing, but I know this foreigner really appreciated the help. And besides, the subtitles might have been the most entertaining part of the entire show. My favorites? 

"I was ordered to steal the filthy pelf from the corrupt officials."

"Shut up." "You shut up."

Three

The performance at the Liyuan Theater isn't even an actual full show. Instead, they show short snippets of two different, oft-reproduced works. The running time for the two combined segments is actually only an hour and a half, so the first time I went to Liyuan with my mom, I thought we had entered intermission when in reality the show had ended.

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Luckily, they did not show the exact same works this time as my previous time. Of course, the performance opened with the same set of Chinese instruments that would play the score for the entire evening. On a cultural note, the erhu (known as the "Chinese violin," so I'm told) is the featured instrument of Beijing Opera. It actually plays the same notes that the performer is singing to enhance his or her performance. The first play, whose opening line is pictured above, was about a girl who... well, I guess she left the nunnery secretly in a hurry to catch up to her paramour, who had just left that day. The 30 minutes or so of this particular piece only covered her trying to convince an old fisherman with a boat to try to overtake him on the river. We never find out what happens, because the snippet ends when she seems poised to reunite with her love.

The second work, the one that took up the bulk of the performance time, was actually the same performance that I had seen a few weeks prior, but I had no problem with this as it was extremely, if unintentionally, entertaining. Roughly translated to the Western canon, it's about a female Joan of Arc/Robin Hood (Joan of the Hood?) who feels called by the spirits to right the selfish ways of the corrupt officials in her local government in order to help her local villagers start their own business. After we hear (or read) her explanation, we see her use the help of a spirit and his minions to "steal the filthy perf" (represented by six giant silver nugget-like props) from the local bank. Oh but wait, another spirit god, the one who's all about keeping the order, basically tells her to back it up and show authorities the proper respect. An epic, half-hour long battle ensues, in which Joan of the Hood, through some snazzy choreography, triumphs. This is her story...

Our heroine actually does nothing

except stand in the background

and watch the spirits steal the filthy pelf.

Then, in an inversion of the traditional 

Super Mario Bros story progression,

our heroine fights the evil boss first.

(Yes, she is singing.)

Minions are important too.

(Or they needed to give the actors 

a reason to come to work every day.)

What's a good supernatural story

without a good supernatural face-off?

One...

Two...

Three...

Six.

And one on the floor for good measure,

because in a battle to steal the filthy pelf

it's always best to lie on the floor and

wait for the bad guy to throw a spear at you.

Thus ends this tantalizing segment of Joan of the Hood.

And wouldn't you know, I'm not even being sarcastic. True, my classmates and I spent most of our time laughing at the effects of the culture gap between what we're used to and what was unfolding before us, but I still think Beijing Opera has a lot to offer in terms of a deeper understanding of Chinese culture. The storylines, some of which have persisted for centuries (as many are based on Chinese folklore), can give the outside world a glimpse into the roots of Chinese culture and values. For example, corruption is and always has been a crippling issue for Chinese society. And the religious aspect of Chinese culture is more complex than you might think. But again, that is an issue for another post. Be excited Kaitlyn. Be excited.

In conclusion, I hope someday to see a full Beijing Opera piece in its original rendering, even if I have to sacrifice the hilarity that is the English subtitle.