Dressed in a Song-era scarlet battle gown inlaid with golden thread, Zhang Hongxia has lost her shyness. Her eyes fly open as she rains on the drums with a rapid-fire beat, arms swinging with the courage and determination of the character she is playing.
Her role today is Liang Hongyu, a geisha-turned-general of the Northern Song Dynasty (960-1127), who successfully assisted her husband Han Shizhong in fighting against the invasion of the Jin nomad tribe from the north.
It's an ironic role for Zhang. Almost a millennium after Liang defied convention, Zhang is struggling to continue her musical career against the tradition of early marriage in her hometown Xinjiang County, Shanxi Province.
It's an issue that faces all the young women who play in the internationally acclaimed Jiangzhou Drum Music Art Troupe, which is based in Shanghai.
The ensemble was inspired by the gong and drum bands of Xinjiang County (formerly Jiangzhou), and established in Beijing in 1988. The ensemble is disseminating a 1,000-year-old tradition and, at the same time, innovating to appeal to modern tastes.
The troupe has performed in major theaters throughout China as well as overseas. Yet all the fame and applause has collided with Xinjiang County's tradition of early marriage. The custom ends the women's careers when they are at their peak.
"As soon as a girl enters her late teens, the family begins the search for a husband. There is enormous social pressure, as well: An unmarried girl of 20 is considered scandalous," says Zhang Hongxia, first drummer of the troupe.
Indeed, if not for such a tradition, Zhang may not be here today. In 1998, the troupe was suffering a marriage drain as most of the original 10 female drummers were leaving to get married. At 15, Zhang was recruited by the troupe's impresario, Wang Qin'an.
Zhang has distinguished herself, performing for distinguished guests attending the conferences of APEC and Asian Development Bank Shanghai hosted last October and May of this year, and adapting compositions. But ever since she turned 19, her parents have relentlessly hounded her to come home and get married. Almost all her peers are married; some have children.
"In their defense, my parents know I am doing well and they really don't want to force me to marry. But they're getting pressure from the relatives and senior members of the family," she says.
Pretty and slim, Zhang looks like any other young Shanghai woman in her T-shirt and jeans. Perhaps more quiet and reticent than her local peers, she admits that living in the big city has opened her eyes and changed her viewpoint.
"After leaving home, I've come to realize that girls in our hometown marry too early, which means they can't have a career at all. I really don't want to be one of them," she says. "How I admire the girls in Shanghai! They don't have to marry so early."
She is well aware that there are other options. She is now studying typing and basic computer skills in the hope that she can stay in the big city when her drumming career is over. And she recently sent 1,000 yuan (US$120) home to help pay for her younger sister and brother's education. "I want them to get a good education so that they can come to outside world as well," says Zhang.
Still, Zhang is among the lucky ones. Half of the six girls recruited with her in 1998 have already left the troupe for marriage. The latest, Yu Yanling, went home this month.
Troupe manager Xu Lanping actually went to Xinjiang County to beg Yu's family to let her come back. "I almost kneeled down before her family, but to no avail," says Xu. "Yu is such a good drummer. It's a real pity to lose her."
"We have survived the financial strain of our first years here. Now our biggest problem is early marriage. Twenty is the golden age for drummers - they have been trained for five years and are at the top of their game. Unfortunately, 20 is also the golden age for marriage in Xinjiang County, which means they leave us, never to return," says Wang Qin'an, the promoter.
Once again, Wang will have to go on a recruiting mission to Shanxi Province - but this time, he says he will spend more time recruiting in towns, where there is less pressure for early marriage.
Ironically, the young women who are struggling with traditional notions of a woman's role are groundbreaking feminists in their musical careers. Wang's first batch of female drummers was not recruited until 1993, because traditional Xinjiang County gong and drum bands were "men only."
"In ancient times, the gong and drum bands performed on sacrificial occasions and played loudly to show respect to the gods," explains Wang. "Since women then were considered inferior to men, they were not permitted to do the job."
Yet now that they have shown that they are the equal of any male drummer, the old village traditions are preventing the development of female drummers.
"Many of our male drummers have stayed on for as much as 10 years because they can stay in the troupe after they get married. Women, on the other hand, are supposed to bear and raise children at home after marriage. The ability to stay in the group after marriage allows the male drummers to become more skillful; they can even compose," says Xue Jianhong, a 21-year-old female drummer. "We just aren't that confident yet - sometimes we do improvise in the dorm, but we don't dare share those improvisations publicly."
What she leaves unsaid is the fact that unless the female drummers can stay on, that skill and confidence will never come.
Xue is a happy exception. She became engaged this year - to another drummer in the troupe. "My friends at home are so envious of my opportunity to have a career," she says.
"Xue is lucky, but that's not always going to happen. There are 30 men in the troupe, some are married - and anyway, you can't make people fall in love," says Wang.
The young women don't get many opportunities to meet men outside the troupe, either. They live a regimented life, rising at 6 a.m. and practicing for more than 10 hours each day. They hardly ever leave their base in Nanxiang Township, Jiading District.
"When a girl's parents come to take them home, I always try to persuade them not to sacrifice her career. But ultimately, I can't make them change," says Wang. "After all, marriage is also a wonderful thing in life. I can't ask them to miss out on that opportunity simply because my band needs them."
Perhaps. But wouldn't it be nice if, like the young women of Shanghai, they didn't have to choose between career and marriage?
(eastday.com June 28, 2002)
