Introduction by Gong Li | Chinese Opera

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Photographs by Jessica Tan Gudnason, Text by Gong Li
90 illustrations, 70 in full-color
Cloth • 152 pages • 10 x 13" • ISBN 0-7892-0709-5
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The Chinese opera's roots extend back to the Tang dynasty (618-907 A.D.) and Emperor Tang Ming Huang, who had a great love of the opera and sponsored special training schools for actors. The most famous of these schools was situated just north of the Tang capital (present-day Xi'an) in a pear garden. The young students who practiced their singing, dancing, and acrobatics there were called "children of the pear garden," and more than a thousand years later the name is still occasionally applied to players in the Chinese opera. Tang Ming Huang is still remembered, too, as the patron saint of the Chinese opera, and incense is burned in front of his image before every performance.

More than three hundred different regional styles of Chinese opera exist today, and they have much in common. First and foremost, all performances emphasize the actor over the sets or props: the actor's entrance sets the stage; his costume and makeup indicate the type of character he is to play; his song begins the tale; his gestures and movements reveal the setting. All of these things he will have learned, if he was lucky, from an experienced master in the art, who in turn learned from another master, and so on, in an unbroken line to the beginning of the theater. The best actors learn, imitate, then invent and instruct in their own fashion and continue the cycle. The actor is the living history of the opera. In every step taken, every note sung, he demonstrates the influences and traditions of those who have gone before.

The roles that an actor may assume fall into four basic categories—sheng (male), dan (female), jing (painted face), and chou (clown)—which are further subdivided into more specific role types. An actor will typically devote his entire opera schooling to a single type of role within these general categories. Rarely does an actor attempt to master more than one type.

Sheng, or male roles, are divided into three types. A laosheng is an older man, typically a high-ranking official or officer. He wears a long black, gray, or white beard, depending on his age. Because of his high rank, he often wears ceremonial robes embroidered with dragon designs, in the style of Ming-dynasty royalty. Another type of male role is the xiaosheng, or the young man. As seen in the love-torn scholar in Romance of the West Chamber and other dramas, he sings in a high-pitched, sometimes falsetto, voice. Because of this difficult singing style, many of the most popular actors to play this role have actually been women. A third type is wusheng. Wusheng are martial experts, military men, or bandits. Their strength is not in singing, but in powerful acrobatics. A special type of wusheng is the monkey king, Sun Wukong, who, according to the popular tale, accompanied a Buddhist monk and pilgrims as they traveled on a long journey to India to pick up Buddhist scriptures and bring them back to China. Along the way they encounter many gods, demons, and warriors that Monkey must subdue. Over a dozen different operas feature Monkey, whose antics and acrobatics make him one of the most popular characters in the repertoire. The makeup is usually simple for sheng actors—a white base with rouge around the eyes and cheeks. Wusheng may have red faces, flushed with blood, valor, or drink. Monkey and his troupe of monkeys are the exceptions, with elaborately painted simian faces.

Dan, or female roles, are similarly divided. The most refined of the female role types is qingyi. A character of this type is modest and gentle, and sings beautifully in a high falsetto. She typically wears a simple but elegant costume to which are attached "water sleeves," which can be over a yard long. A good qingyi actor can manipulate these sleeves most expertly in a variety of gestures meant to show concern, shyness, or lamentation. A more lively sort of flirtatious type is the huadan. She is the concubine, the maid, or the charming serving girl. Her costumes are generally more colorful than those worn by qingyi, and she walks with a seductive sway, often clutching a red handkerchief in her right hand. Other female roles are the laodan, or old woman, and the daomadan, or warrior woman. Dan roles are exclusively played by women, but this was not always the case. During the Qing Dynasty (1644-1911), women were banned from performing on the stage, and men played all roles. In fact, the original meaning of dan was "female impersonator."

The jing, or painted face, role is the most striking of all the different categories. Usually a bold and powerful general or bandit leader, he wears thick-soled boots and a padded costume that make him appear larger than life. But it is his painted face that attracts the most attention. His face may be made-up in a dizzying array of styles and colors depending on the type of character to be portrayed. The colors of the face are an outward expression of the personality of the character. To say that you "wear your emotions on your face" is literally true with jing characters. A black face indicates an honest and uncompromising character, such as the incorruptible judge Bao Zheng. A red face is that of a full-blooded, loyal warrior, like Guan Yu, the legendary hero from the classic Romance of the Three Kingdoms. General Cao Cao, the villain of the same story, wears oily white makeup to represent his crafty and evil character. Blue is often the color used for bandits, while gold and silver are reserved exclusively for supernatural characters. Many painted faces mix a variety of colors, illustrating a more complicated character.

The last role type is chou, or clown. The chou may be a dim but likable fool, an insufferably annoying scholar or prince, or a cunning rascal. The chou is the only character who may improvise, ad lib, and make asides to the audience using contemporary references. Male chou are easily recognized by a small patch of white makeup applied around the nose and eyes, while female chou wear makeup that exaggerates their features to comic effect.

The costumes of Chinese opera are themselves an art. Because traditionally there is no stage set except for a table and some chairs, the actors and their costumes become the only focus of attention in the theater. At first this may seem like a liability to Western audiences, but once the first actors step onto the stage in their bold and vibrant costumes, all misgivings are laid to rest. Most costumes are based on styles and fashions of the Ming dynasty (1368-1644), regardless of the era in which the drama is supposed to occur. Yellow robes are worn by the emperor, other bright colors by princes, ministers, and generals. Scholars wear more subdued colors, while bandits and outlaws wear black. The armor worn by soldiers is made of stiff fabric, heavily embroidered, beautifully colored, and thickly padded. A soldier in full armor with four pennants tied to his back strikes an imposing and dramatic figure. This sort of costume is ideally suited to the fierce and bold character of the jing actor, though it is also used by some sheng and daomadan actors as well.

No costume is complete without an accompanying headdress, each according to the character portrayed. One of the most beautiful headdresses in Chinese opera is the phoenix tiara, worn only by an empress, princess, or imperial concubine. Its frame is decorated with jade and pearls, and tassels hang down on both sides and over the forehead. A more common but equally stunning headpiece is the military helmet worn by armored soldiers. The helmet is adorned with brightly colored velvet balls and, often, two long pheasant plumes extending from the top. These plumes are often manipulated by the actor in gesture and dance to dramatic effect.

The actors' movements are also central to the drama, and each seems to have their own steady tempo. A soldier moves across the stage to the crashing of cymbals and the banging of drums. The scholar is accompanied by the more subdued sounds of flute and strings. Every gesture imparts meaning to the drama. A laosheng quickly flicking his sleeve may indicate disgust, a jing dramatically rolling his eyes shows fury. When gesture is not enough, an actor may use a small prop to convey meaning. Carrying a horse whip indicates that the actor is on a horse, and through dance the actor pantomimes mounting, riding, or leading the horse by the reins. An oar may be used to symbolize traveling by boat, the actor swaying gently to the rhythm of the waves.

All of the gestures and movements an actor makes have been clearly defined by convention and are known by their public. Only the best actors attempt to alter the performance, and they do so knowing that the audience may either applaud or condemn the changes. Successful alterations to a role can eventually become the way the role is taught to future players. But a performance in Chinese opera depends on more than faultless execution of movements and perfect pitch when singing. Rather, the movements and signs, the song and dance that an actor performs are only the external part of the role. The actor must also feel the role, and understand the character internally. This is quite unlike the training film and spoken drama actors receive, in which they are taught to make their internal emotions real in order to externalize them into realistic movements and dialogue. The Chinese opera actor must instead keep his external performance exaggerated but beautiful while feeling true, real emotions internally. Part of the pleasure of watching great performers is seeing them channel their internal emotions through the simplest and most standard gestures, empowering each motion with unexpected dramatic intensity.

Perfecting a performance of such complexity takes a lifetime of learning. In the past, young boys were simply sold to an opera school or a specific actor under contract for as long as seven years. During that time the school would provide for the child's basic needs and train him in the theater. Discipline was cruel, and book learning completely neglected. The students would earn their keep by performing, either in public or private engagements that the schoolmaster would arrange. Today the schools are much less severe and the education more well-rounded.

Opera students typically range from seven to seventeen years old. Their day begins at five in the morning with an hour of warm-up exercises. Students then practice singing while facing the school walls, which allows them to judge and modify the quality of their own voices from the sound deflected back towards them. Breakfast is at eight, followed by stage combat training and acting and singing lessons. Senior students perform in the afternoon while junior students watch and learn. Supper is served around six and is followed by more singing and acting practice, then bed. In the past, senior students would perform in public theaters in the evening, though it is now more common for them to earn extra money in the afternoon.

Some of the children training in the Chinese opera dream of achieving success not only on stage, but also on the screen. In fact, Chinese cinema owes much to the opera, and they share a long history. The first Chinese film was the 1905 adaptation of the opera Dingjun Mountain by the Beijing opera actor Tan Xinpei. Opera adaptations peaked in popularity in the fifties, when Cantonese cinema was dominated by two women, Yam Kim-fai and Pak Suet-sin, who starred together in a series of romantic opera films with Yam in the sheng (male) role and Pak in the dan (female) role. Their movies remained popular for over a decade. In the 1970s many Beijing opera students worked as stunt men and actors in popular new kung fu films. Among the students who went on to achieve international celebrity are Jackie Chan, Sammo Hung, and Yuen Biao.

Chinese opera has also proved a rich source of inspiration for cinema. I have had the pleasure of appearing in two films directed by Chen Kaige that were born out of the operatic tradition. Farewell My Concubine charts the history of China in the twentieth century through the lives of two boys in the Beijing Opera—one a dan (female), the other a jing (painted face). It is a story about the very best kind of actor, who feels true emotion internally while displaying perfect form externally, and how he is ultimately unable to reconcile the internal with the external, character with self. More recently the film The Emperor and the Assassin told the popular opera tale in which a retired assassin makes a failed attempt on the life of the first emperor of China. The story originates in the first-century B.C. writings of Han-dynasty historian Sima Qian, and it surely would have been long forgotten had not the opera kept the tale alive and familiar to audiences across the country.

Three different regional opera styles are represented in this book: Beijing, Cantonese, and Yue. Each has its own unique quality. Beijing opera is the most popular and widespread, and so becomes the standard to which others are compared. It has a long history and a large repertoire of plays, though many of those plays are forgotten, banned, or simply no longer performed in modern China. Most performances of Beijing opera today focus on legendary or militaristic plays, which feature colorfully painted warriors and daring acrobatics. Cantonese opera, on the other hand, emphasizes singing and melodic accompaniment. Yue opera is well known for the strength of its women performers, whether they are playing male or female roles. The costumes in Yue opera are also quite distinct. Both Cantonese and Yue opera use more elaborate lighting and sets than Beijing opera. But they share the emphasis on grand costumes and makeup and a similar history and fascination for the public.

Now, as before a Chinese opera performance, a joss stick is lit before a shrine to Tang Ming Huang. The actors sit at their mirrors and apply powder, then rouge. Assistants unpack the great wardrobe trunks and help the actors into costume. Cymbals crash. Drums beat. The children of the pear garden await their entrance onto the stage.

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