YUE OPERA FROM HANGZHOU

Wang Danli (Daring) found tickets two days before the performance date of an opera out of the city of Hangzhou.  Everyone in Beijing was persuading me to see the kung-fu show because I would surely fall asleep in the Peking opera, and people who knew this opera warned me that Peking opera has action but this kind of opera has a lot of singing.  I would be bored, most likely.

We had dinner first, a rather small, quick dinner and caught a taxi to People's Square, where the opera was being performed in a nearby theater.   Of course, there were signs posted in Chinese that forbade taking pictures and videos, and I don't read Chinese.  There were two observers in the theater whose job appeared to be spotting violators.  They traded off during the show, so it appeared only one was on duty at a time. (Last year at the  Shanghai Theater, there must have been dozens who had little laser beams that they show on a violator's camera or hands from the back of the theater.)  The young man mostly sat while he was on duty, but the lady was seriously persuing violators.   I watched her travel from side to side of the theater (actually only one side, and I saw no one on my left.)   She had a pen-sized flashlight that she would use.   She reminded me of a bird dog or a retriever, casting about for a bird, and then finding one, focusing on it, raising her flashlight like the dog might its nose. The lady next to me was caught and physically and verbally chastised for shooting.  Of course, she had made the error of having her flash on.

Although Danli was shooting pictures without worry, I watched where the woman was, and when she was searching the right side of the theater I did my shooting.  

The storyline was a romance.  In fact, the translated name is "Romance of the Western Chamber." The story goes something like this:   A young man on his way to take exams in Peking so he can be employed by the government stops at a monastery where he discovers a widow and her two children, a young boy and a beautiful daughter, are staying.  The daughter has an attendant, whose performance I thought was full of energy, bright singing, movement, and great variety of emotions.
At any rate, the young man sees the daughter and falls in love.   The daughter, too, is interested, but the mother has an iron hand.   When they discover a soldier with 2000 men have surrounded the where they are living and threatens to overwhelm the group unless the daughter will marry him, the mother proclaims whoever might save them may have the daughter.

The young man hearing this says he can help, for he knows a general on whom he can call, and he does and (offstage), the matter is resolved.  But, of course, the mother reneges on the promise and what ensues is a series of communications between the daughter and the young man, facilitated by her attendant.  By the end of the second hour, they are in love but no closer to being together.   Finally the maid is trapped by the mother and ends up telling the mother that she (the mother) is as much to blame for this budding romance because of the way she has been dishonest.  Thus the story ends with the mother accepting the young man, but throwing another barrier in his way.  He must go to Peking, take and pass the test and acquire a government job; only then would she accept him.  This is a step in the right direction and he agrees.  The daughter tells him no matter the outcome of his examination, he is to come back to find her.   Thus ended to show.Three hours of solid singing with no breaks; people headed for the washrooms whenever they needed to. In one of the videos, you can hear Daring explaining what's going on to me.  People talked during the show, but they applauded and showed appreciation.  There isn't that same feeling in an American theater where everyone must be completely silent.    I noticed this as I was reading Mark Salzman's Iron and Silk when he describes how audiences seem to pay little attention to what goes on during lectures and performances.

Here are some "smuggled" shots of the opera in progress.

 I thought the designs were great and the costumes absolutely gorgeous.

The flower arrangements filled theater lobby  both physically and aromatically.  There may have been twenty of these arrangements.

Here are some "smuggled" videos of the performance, too.  

We had nice seats.   We paid top price and did not want the front row, and we did not want the ends of the rows either.    The main floor rows were very long, and sitting in the middle meant taking a patient stroll to the end of the row in order to reach the wash rooms.  But across the theater was an aisle that separated the two halves of the theater, and we were in row 11, not far from the stage, and just on the far side of this aisle from the stage.  Thus, we had no heads to peer around, and only a periodic distraction of someone heading for the washroom  

We had been sitting, listening to the singing, watching the .small but graceful movement, the body language, and the changes of scenery for almost three hours, so we knew that the opera would soon be ending, but here in the middle of this act, people started standing and moving toward the aisles.  A large number of people walked stage right toward the stage itself, where the exit was situated, while others moved in front of us, partly blocking our view.  Danli kept saying "What are they doing? It's not done yet."  But it was indeed about to end.  Unfortunately, for Danli, there wasn't a clear climax and denouement.  She wanted to young man to go the Peking and come back for his bride, but there was to be no clear happy and final ending, just the hope of change.  

People applauded at the end of the opera; they didn't leave.  Many had moved to the front just so they could applaud.  There were two curtain calls, with moderate clapping. And then there was even more clapping, and when the curtain opened, only the singer who had played the young man came out; apparently, she was the reason for the applause, for the audience seemed satisfied to have her take her bow.

Here.below is her brief acapella encore, of which I caught only the last few seconds.   I assume it was done without the orchestra because it truly was caught in the moment.

I hope you have enjoyed these clips.

XI'AN: THE CITY WALL and THE MUSLIM MARKETPLACE - videos added 6.28

Let me just say this:  Seeing this wall, walking along the top of it, seeing the cut outs for the archers, I could only think of all movies I had seen where the city walls were being laid siege by some barbarian forces.

There are a number of city walls in Xi'an.  I don't know if they are all connected, but these century old walls were shut tight at night and the city walled in for protection, and then opened during the day.     The first walls were built a century or two BC but the current walls were begun in the 13th or 14th centuries by the Ming dynasty.

tur

It is still raining. Lucas has bought the tickets to climb the city wall.


     

  a sundial at the base of the wall, does us little good  on this day. sundial at the base of the wall, does us little good  on this day. 

 Here is the wall and the parapet from which archers could fire at the intruders.   Notice at the bottom of the wall, where it joins with the walkway, the holes where water could flow out or (in my movie imagination), hot oil could be poured on those attempting to storm the walls.
And on the other wall, there is a series of posters that describe the ways in which invaders could attempt the storm the walls or even break them open.  (This wall , according to Wikipedia) wall "measures 13.7 kilometres (8.5 mi) in circumference, 12 metres (39 ft) in height, and 15–18 metres (49–59 ft) in thickness at the base."^[1]

                            

 This is not a city street; this is the top of the wall, as it stretches out to the eastern horizon.   It's wide enough for vehicles to drive. Above is a view of the city looking from the top of the wall.

 After the wall, it was later afternoon, and after a short rest, (we had walked 15,000 steps already) I headed out to find a snack or dinner.   Where was I going?  To the Muslim marketplace.   Just a few blocks from the hotel, it turned out to be most eye-opening and fascinating.   In China, Xi'an may have the largest number of Muslims outside of Xinjiang province.  The Muslims arrived in Xi'an early, and have been part of the city for twenty centuries.   They have intermarried but as a group seem to have remained separate.  There is a Moslem mosque, which I did not find in my walk the next morning.  But this night I found an alley of gift shops and then a street of food shops.   It's where I found my dinner.

               I walked through this area, turned left and then right, and down another street looking at shops that sold clothes, jewelry, leather, you name it;  when I stopped at one, I bought some t-shirts, and asked the guy where I could find food.  Turn left, he said, as he pointed to the edge of his shop.  There, I saw a dark passage, who no light except that coming from the street I was on.  Really?  I asked.  Yes.  Down there, he said.   So I hoofed it down the alley, and finally, toward the end, there was a little light.




                         

              

 When I came out the other side of the alley, I was in a street full of people and life, of pounding, and smells of food.   I walked up the road, looking for place I thought had non-spicy food, and back down again.  When I found a place and entered, I took the photo below of people outside waiting to buy a little bun stuffed with meat (like a mini-hamburger.)

I pointed at a picture and asked for a bowl.  35 Y.

 I thought it was meat and pasta, but I found out the next day, it was bread!  Hot, and filling.

There must have been 5 -10 shops with someone outside pulling dough like this guy is doing.  Lucas told me the next day, that they keep pulling the dough (it looks like at taffy pull), until it becomes stiff.   They bake it into a cake.
But the pull itself is something to watch, since the puller may run out into the street until the dough stretches and sags and almost touches the ground, at which point he swings it up into the and runs back to hook the middle of it and pulls it out again.  It's quite a show.

                                                                    Some shops sell meat; displayed raw and then cook it.

After I finished eating, I walked back the other way and found a road that turned left toward my hotel.  It was full of more shops, of places to eat and gifts.  Many women were clearly Muslim in dress.

The next morning I set out the other way from the hotel, intending to find another city wall that Lucas said I could find walking to what I think was the east.   But after a few blocks I noticed signs of another market, so I turned right and down a street to discover I was in a continuation of the market from the night before, but this time it was on the other side of the hotel.

I can't say the business was good because there were so many shops and so few shoppers, but this street and the cross streets seemed fully occupied by meat and vegetable vendors.  Later, I saw another street that was again full of gifts.   They all seem connected by a series of
roads that cross at right angles.  At one point a sign suggested a mosque was a right turn after a fairly long walk, but I never did see the mosque.  But I did see plenty of shops, and a lot of traffic in an old section of town that looked like Xi'an 80 years ago, or maybe even a hundred years in the past.

I asked what those large oval pieces were.   Lucas said they were ox liver. 

 Whatever one shops sells, so does another.

I always talk about China driving and drivers.  Well, check these out:

This looks like the stuff they use to make the roast mutton spine I had in Beijing.

 After my morning walk through the Muslim market, I met up with Lucas, who took me to  lunch, back where I had walked the night before.  Past where I had eaten dinner, to the bottom of the street, and a left until we came to this place.

And he ordered what he had promised me.  However, he was a little disappointed when I showed him what I had eaten the night before while we waited for our food.

Yes, like have wonton over wonton, I had spoiled his surprise by having ordered the soup the night before.   But I learned what I thought was pasta was steamed bread torn into small shreds and cooked with meat.  The real treat, however, was the condiment.  A plate of sweet picked garlic.  Wow.  Eat a clove and take a bite of soup....,or should I say, a "slurp" of soup, because that was how we were supposed to eat it with chopsticks and no spoon!

        

 Above are the cooks; and below is the front of the restaurant.

Next stop:  The airport, and I was on my way back to Shanghai.

XI'AN: BIG WILD GOOSE PAGODA

The Giant Wild Goose Pagoda, as it is sometimes called, is a sacred Buddhist site and built in the 7th century.   It has been rebuilt through the centuries, and looks to have quite a lean to it.   The Pagoda was built to hold the teachings and sacred items brought back from India by monk Xuanzang.

According to the guide's story he traveled through the Gobi desert to get to India, losing people on the way.  Once he had made the difficult journey he stayed in India and debated Buddhist philosophy with the Buddhist monks he found there.   If he lost the debate, he would be beaten, but since he always won, he earned the respect of the Indian monks and after seventeen years returned with a load Buddhist philosophies and other Buddhist treasures.  In reading a brief summary of his life, it seems that Xuanzang traveled west as far as Afghanistan and south to India looking for the great masters of Buddhism with whom he could resolve the questions he had about Buddhist thought in China. Along the way he studied Sanscript and the texts he found.   His historical importance lay in his influence on Chinese, Korean, and Japanese Buddhism.

When he returned to Chang'an (Xi'an), he spent the rest of his years translating the texts that he brought back with him from India.

bi

So here is the Big Wild Goose Pagoda.   You might notice that one of us has a decided lean.

The housed the texts that Xuanzang brought back from India, and it is where he spent his last years carefully translating the work into Chinese.

Lucas tells me the Pagoda is empty now and that is is possible to climb to the top (but we didn't have the time [or energy]) to hoof it up the 5 to 7 stories.

.Here is the stairway to the temple. 

 The Buddhas in the temple--sorry, the lean in this case, is mine.

Behind the pagoda there is a building that houses the story of Monk Xuanzang's life in mural form.
There appear to be two kinds of murals.  The three walls of the first room were metal, apparently bronze or brass fused over copper.

 And in a middle room, the story continues, told in wood.

(and apparently a third kind)

 In the last room, the three walls again were metal;
This scene depicts Xuanzang's death and ascension.

Master Xuanzang