[uw.chinese] AP: Encore performance for Jiang Qing's model opera "Red Lantern"

jshen@watdragon.waterloo.edu (Jun Shen) (01/29/91)

An encore performance for the Cultural Revolution

Madame Mao's 'Model' opera revived in Beijing

The Sunday San Francisco Examiner. January 27, 1991.

By Andrew Higgins, London Correspondent, Associated Press

BEIJING - Madame Mao, otherwise engaged in Beijing jail, was unable to attend
the opening night.  But she was there in spirit, hovering in the wings of the
People's Opera House, to enhance the titillation that has begun to add to the
terror of recent times.

It was an occasion the former Shanghai starlet-turned-queen of the Cultural 
Revolution would have relished.  It was the resurrection after a hiatus of 15
years, of her most celebrated and, after her downfall, most reviled
contribution to Chinese culture: the Revolutionary Model Opera.

For three nights, Beijing's main opera house, a drab and drafty concrete
auditorium on Protect the Nation Street, again echoed to the strident
revolutionary arias of the "Red Lantern," one of a handful of "model" works
promoted by Mao Tse-tung's wife, Jiang Qing, during her heyday as China's
supreme cultural commander.

Tickets were sold out weeks in advance, as Beijing got its first chance since
1976 to relive an era that, for all its horrors, still grips the minds of
people who lived through it.

Concurrent with the production of the opera, the government has been conducting
trials of dissidents in an ironic counterpoint.  Results of the trial were
announced Saturday.  

The Beijing University student who helped sparked China's 1989 democracy
movement, Wang Dan, was sentenced to four years in prison.  Longtime dissident
Ren Wanding got a seven-year sentence.

A total of five activists were sentenced to prison, three were convicted but
released and 18 were released without trial.  Also, 45 people who apparently
had been jailed but not charged were let off.

"Red Lattern," first performed in 1964, became the soundtrack for the Cultural
Revolution, an ear-splitting musical accompaniment to Mao's frenzied drive to
purge China of its past and build a new socialist utopia.

The role of Jiang Qing in its creation was minimal.  She changed a few lines
and ordered more realistic patches put on the actor's proletarian costumes. 
She made it her anthem nonetheless, dragging baffled foreign visitors and
grimacing Chinese leaders to admire her handiwork.

Politics on stage

Officially, at least, the revival has nothing to do with politics: The "Red
Lantern" is merely one of dozens of works being staged as part of a two-month
festival to celebrate the 200th anniversary of Beijing Opera, a unique and, to
the non-connoisseur, often unfathomable blend of acrobatics, piercing singing
and elaborate rituals.

In China, though, art and politics are never completely separate.  "It's not up
to us to decide what we perform," said Gao Yuqian, a verteran opera star called
out of semi-retirement to play Granny Li, the main female role in the "Red
Lantern."  "They (officials) decide what we do and what we don't.  It's been
like that here."

Presiding over the Beijing Opera festival is He Jingzhi, a Maoist poet
appointed culture minister after the military crackdown of June 1989, with
instructions to bring rebellious artists back into line.

According to He, the resurrection of the "Red Lantern" is designed to "reclaim
something that has been stolen" - in other words, to show that Mao's
revolution, though tainted by the excesses of his wife, must never be
forgotten.

"Long live the Communist Party, long live Mao Tse-tung," cries the "Red
Lantern" hero, Li Yuhe, a railway worker and underground Communist, as Japanese
soldiers drag him to the execution ground.  Filled with passion for the
revolution and rage against the Japanese, his beautiful foster daughter, Li
Tiemei, goes on to avenge him.

It is a tale typical of the genre - a revolutionary Punch and Judy show set to
a mix of Chinese music and slushy Hollywood style songs.  

A subversive message

But officials who ordered it got more than they bargained for.  Rather than a
lesson in revolutionary zeal and obedience, it seemed to many in the audience
to contain a more subversive message.

"You can't kill all the Chinese people," sings the hero, "a debt of blood must
be paid in blood."  Powerful lines in a city bludgeoned into submission by the
People's Liberation Army 19 months ago.

The crowd loved it, shouting, "Hao, hao" (bravo) and applauding wildly when
Granny Li recalls the day "when all the workers took to the street in protest."

On opening night, the audience stormed the stage.  "I haven't seen that for
years," said Gao Yuqian, who coached by Madame Mao, played Granny 25 years ago.

Some in the audience, too young to remember the Cultural Revolution and bored
by gestures and archaic language of traditional opera, had never seen its like. 
They came out of curiosity and delighted in its message of vengeance.

Others had seen it dozens, even hundreds, of times before and knew the lines by
heart.  For them, it was a night of ghoulish nostalgia, a fascinating peek at a
part of their lives they have been told to forget.

Even the cast was familiar.  Gao and several others had all performed in a film
version made of the opera in 1970.

But the part of the martyred railway worker had been given to someone else. 
The original star, Qian Haoliang, is too tainted by "political mistakes" to be
allowed back on stage.

Popular at last

For more than a decade, the "Ref Lantern" and other models monopolized the
Chinese stage, reducing one of the world's richest operatic traditions to a
dreary procession of wooden Communist heros, cowardly class enemies and
acrobatic Red Army platoons singing the praises of Mao Tse-tung.  All other
works were banned.

"With hammer in hand, I set out to smash all old conventions," boasted Mao's
wife of her drive to reform the Chinese arts.  The results was a slim
repertoire of four operas, two ballets and one symphony.

In 1976 the constant drone of revolutionary art stopped.  Mao died.  His wife
was jailed.  Her model operas were banished with her.  Ironically, her
political foes seem to have achieved what she had always tried but failed to
do: make the "Red Lantern" genuinely popular.