Theatrical Diplomacy

　　Peking Opera master Mei Lanfang’s works still thrill New York audiences， more than 80 years after his U.S. debut

　　“If we want to protect real world peace， humanity must mutually understand， mutually tolerate and sympathize， mutually assist and not battle.”

　　Eighty-four years ago， Chinese folk hero and Peking Opera master Mei Lanfang spoke these words to the graduating class of the University of Southern California， calling for peace amid an epic six-month tour of the United States aimed at building cultural understanding. The performances of classic Peking Opera or Jingju—which inspired J. Brooks Atkitson of The New York Times to lavish praise on Mei Lanfang’s “exquisite loveliness in pantomime and costume”—were hailed by international media as diplomatic triumphs and the sign of a new phase in Chinese-American relations.

　　Much has changed since Mei Lanfang electrified New York audiences with his stories of female warriors， tragic romances and royal intrigue， all of which rivaled Shakespeare’s greatest works. The master started a school—the Mei School—and took his place among the pantheon of internationally recognized artistic legends. Since then， the relationship between China and the United States has grown tremendously in ways that could not have been imagined 84 years ago.

　　Celebrating the 120th anniversary of Mei Lanfang’s birth， the Jingju Theater Co. of Beijing brought a selection of the master’s greatest works to New York’s Lincoln Center and the Kennedy Center in Washington， D.C.， throughout late August. The performances were a nostalgic， yet somehow timely， reminder of the noble power of the fine arts.

　　Just as before， the works of Mei Lanfang electrified audiences in New York. From the moment the lovely performer Dou Xiaoxuan stepped on stage as the goddess Apsara， scattering flower petals on the wind， the audience at the David H. Koch Theater sat enraptured. Dou deftly whirled and flung the long silk sleeves of her traditional gown about the stage， seemingly delicate yet powerful. The high pitch of traditional Peking Opera， still unfamiliar to many Westerners， was a novelty， and subtitles translated the lyrics for English speakers. Acrobats tumbled around a dancing clam in Pierce the Mussel and Shang Wei， the lead performer in the stage production of Farewell My Concubine， was praised by The New York Times as “captivating” and the “picture of stoic， stylized beauty.”

　　“I have never seen anything like this before，” said Diane Webster， a New York theater patron who had been invited to the performance by her daughter. “I love the costumes and the tumbling. It’s fun. I wouldn’t say I understand everything that is going on—but I like it.”

　　More than 80 performers， including an orchestra of traditional Chinese musical instrumentalists， were on the tour， and much emphasis was placed on providing Western audiences with explanations of the costumes， make-up styles， storylines and traditional music. Artifacts from Mei Lanfang’s 1930 tour were displayed during the intermission， and members of the audience excitedly took pictures with the displays.

　　“I learned a lot about Peking Opera， especially the costumes. I like that they explained it，” said James Patterson， visiting from Boston. “I liked learning the history of Mei Lanfang， who obviously still has so much influence today.”

　　Double jiazi

　　Hosting the celebration is the master’s youngest child， Mei Baojiu， who is himself a famous Peking Opera singer and leader of the Mei Lanfang Peking Opera Troupe in Beijing. The 120th birthday celebration is significant， said Mei Baojiu， because it represents two 60-year celestial cycles in the Chinese calendar， or a “double jiazi.”

　　“This year is the time to commemorate my father and his U.S. performance tour in 1930. I am 80 years old this year and it is the 120th anniversary of my father’s birth，” he told Beijing Review.

　　“Back in 1930， my father started his first American tour from Seattle and had a successful trip in nine cities including San Francisco， Washington， D.C.， New York City， and more. His performances impressed American audiences very much，” he said. “Now standing in the lobby of the David Koch Theater， I can feel the same atmosphere and spirit of the opera performances as in 1930， when my father played in the theater on 49th Street in Manhattan.”

　　Mei Lanfang is famous for his skill in performing， his son said， but his earnest wish for world peace， his noble character and his ambassadorship of Chinese culture left an indelible mark on the world. This tour aimed to memorialize those qualities， with an effort to teach and inspire as well as entertain.

　　Li Enjie， President of the Jingju Theater Co. of Beijing， said this tour was a special one for the troupe.

　　“The best way to promote Peking Opera around the world is to perform it on a market-oriented stage like the Lincoln Center， even if we don’t make a profit this time，” Li said.

　　Universal stories

　　Though Western audiences may not have a finely developed appreciation for the intricacies of Peking Opera， the thrilling storylines play well with all audiences. In The Goddess of Heaven Scatters Flowers， Dou plays the goddess Apsara， sent by Tathagata to comfort the sick Vimalakirti with a shower of petals. Dou， 29， said she first began to learn Peking Opera at the age of 4.

　　“As one of the third-generation successors of Mei Lanfang’s performance art， I’m confident that New York audiences will understand what our performance conveys，” said Dou. “Take the first play， The Goddess of Heaven Scatters Flowers， as an example： It is a story from Buddhism—a story about love. I think most of the audiences， from the East or the West， will enjoy it.”

　　The stage on which these demanding parts were reenacted was suitably bare， with dramatic lighting and colorful costumes the center of attention. The pageantry was phenomenal， with layers of bright silk， long pheasant-feather headdresses， yards of flowing sleeves and metallic armor. It was bright， eye-catching and beautiful.

　　In Pierce the Mussel， Lian Jinfeng， played by the impish and charming Zhang Xinyue， is an enterprising young woman who dives into the ocean hunting for sea cucumbers to treat her sick mother. It is a story of gratitude and kindness. Such strong female leads are traditional in Peking Opera. In Resisting Jin Troops， the beautiful warrior Liang Hongyu leads her all-female troops against the hordes of Jin State fighters. Actress Li Hongyan， playing Liang， was fierce and confident. She spun and stabbed her spear at waves of approaching soldiers， deftly beating back each one while exhorting her armed female forces toward the battle. It was as exciting as any Shakespearean swordfight and the audience repeatedly broke into applause.

　　Even the court ladies of Mei Lanfang’s world are strong， warrior-like women. In Farewell My Concubine， Lady Yu slits her own throat rather than being a liability to her beloved king， Xiang Yu. In Drunken Beauty， consort Yang Yuhuan has a party all by herself when she is spurned by her royal lover. Several goblets of wine later， she is still standing tall， even if wobbly on her feet.

　　Female characters， the dan role in Peking Opera， are traditionally played by men. Mei Lanfang was famous for playing these parts. The delicate movements and alluring side glances belay the strength of these women warriors， as though they were steel flowers with hidden thorns.

　　Following the New York and Washington， D.C. performances， the troupe will travel to Japan and Russia to entertain audiences and spread Mei Lanfang’s vision of a peaceful world through art.

　　Mei Lanfang’s gifts to the world more than 80 years ago are still relevant today. To inspire， teach and share a vision of global peace is the master’s heritage， and he would be pleased to see his dream carried on by his descendants.

　　“The people of my country， the same as yours， desire peace among the nations，” Mei Lanfang told audiences in 1930. “You have deigned to view our imperfect portrayals of China’s ancient drama… and you have chosen me for this distinction， which is an expression of your friendship for my people.”

　　By Corrie Dosh