The lights dimmed. The curtains parted. Two files of
flag-bearing soldiers marched onstage and planted themselves to the
side - a sign, as fans of Peking Opera would know - of a commander
coming. Suddenly, everything fell silent.
Then, a man appeared at the corner of the stage, dressed in full
military regalia. A wave of applause erupted, which seemed to last
several minutes. Even those in the audience who didn't know who the
man was joined the ecstatic cheer, somewhat involuntarily. This was
before a single word was uttered.
Ye Shaolan stars as Zhou Yu
during a performance in Hong Kong.
Such was the scene at the theater hall of the Hong Kong Cultural
Center, last Friday night.
The commander, Ye Shaolan, is a third generation member of a
legendary operatic dynasty.
"A star can bring the house down with his sheer presence. But it
has nothing to do with commercial packaging or instant fame. One
pays for it," the 64-year-old says during an interview on the eve
of the performance.
Back when Peking Opera was the national form of entertainment
and Peking Opera performers were the darlings of the press, they
had a name for being a star - they called you "juer". Once you had
become a "juer", you were worshipped by a devoted following who
treated you the same way today's movie fans treat their icons.
Ye Shaolan applies
make-up.
Ye Shenglan, the late father of Ye Shaolan, was one
such bright star.
"In those days, only children from poor families were sent to
learn Peking Opera, often because their parents had no choice. The
training was so hard that no pampered rich kids could make it. But
for my father, the story was a little bit different," Ye says.
Any conversation about him and his art eventually leads to his
father, and eventually, to his grandfather, and
great-grandfather.
"My grandfather Ye Chunshan opened the country's largest, and
longest-running Peking Opera school - Fu-Lian-Cheng, where my
father was trained."
"School" is a new term. When Fu-Lian-Cheng opened its doors in
Beijing around 1904, it was called "keban" - the equivalent of a
training class-cum-performance troupe. In the beginning, there were
only eight students and one little house where they trained and
slept. Ye managed the group on a shoestring budget. He taught and
cooked. His wife, Ye Shaolan's grandmother, did the washing and
sewing.
"He would wake up at 3 am to see if any of the kids had kicked
off their quilts," Ye says.
"There was one boy who would eat only meat and no vegetables.
Because he was one of the best pupils, my grandfather would always
save his own portion for him.
"Upon the founding of the school, my grandfather vowed to pass
on the knowledge of the art to as many students as possible."
That knowledge was passed to Ye Chunshan by his father, Ye
Shaolan's great grandfather, who was the first in the family to
perform Peking Opera.?
Ye Shenglan plays general
Zhou Yu.
Ye Chunshan died in 1935, at the age of 59, leaving behind
several hundred students. That was eight years before Ye Shaolan
was born. But Shaolan can recount the life of his grandfather as if
it was yesterday.
Born into the art, Ye Shaolan's father Ye Shenglan started
learning Peking Opera at the age of 9. First cast in female roles,
Shenglan was soon retrained to play young males, known as
"xiaosheng" - a category in which he became famous. Today, the
style that he once championed, characterized by powerful vocals,
has been canonized as the Ye School.
"He got it all right - handsome looks, medium height, a
powerful, finely-timbered voice, and most importantly, a natural
understanding of the art," Shaolan says of his father, leafing
through a commemorative book dedicated to the late master. A
glimpse at the book's photos reveals a striking resemblance between
father and son.
That resemblance is not merely physical, as anyone who has been
lucky enough to see both impresarios perform can attest. Their
single most celebrated role is Zhou Yu - a young general from
China's Three Kingdom Periods (AD 220-280) who had tremendous
courage and a giant ego.
This was the role that Ye Shaolan played. The physicality,
elegance, style and glamor of the star's performance is reminiscent
of his father's heyday.
Ye Shenglan trains his son
Ye Shaolan. Courtesy of Ye Shaolan.
"You are born into this great legacy. But it's not
hereditary and it doesn't spare you anything in terms of hard
work," he says.
Asked if the stories of grueling training for young apprentices,
as depicted in movies like Farewell My Concubine, were true, Ye
admits to being disciplined but says he is thankful for it.
"Believe me, there would never be wanton beating. But remember
we were just a bunch of kids who loved to play. There had to be
someone who could teach us how to serve the art," Ye says. "Without
enduring the pain, there would be no Peking Opera."
"I can never forget that vow my grandfather took. We will all
die, but Peking Opera will not. It completes us," Ye says.
(China Daily January 10, 2008)
