More than a year after the death of Henan opera legend Chang Xiangyu, a signed letter written by the star before her death has been revealed to the public, which states her wish that her granddaughter -- Henan opera actress Chen Bailing -- be forbidden from using the "Xiao Xiangyu" stage name, which by tradition she has inherited from Chang.
The disclosure of Chang's dying wish triggered shocked responses from operatic circles and the public alike, over what is the first case in China's opera history of a stage name being retired.
Opera stage names are an important asset to performers, which indicate an actor's status; withdrawing or retiring a name has been described as an affront to an actor's status within professional stage circles.
So why did opera legend Chang Xiangyu take such an action which she knew would damage her granddaughter's career?
"Chang's life is full of surprises and this might be the last one," said Luo Xinjian, Chang's attorney who witnessed the penning of the letter and announced it recently along with Chang's son Chen Jiakang.
"When Chang allowed Chen Bailing to use the 'Xiangyu' stage name, she hoped Chen would do something to carry deteriorating Henan opera to a new stage," Luo said.
But in the 10 years after Chang allowed Chen to use her stage name, Chen didn't really do anything of operatic value such as stage performances or rehearsals of new dramas; the criticism leveled at her is that instead she just cashed in on the celebrity appeal of the "Xiangyu" name for her own commercial gain.
Chen had been Chang's leading protege and was without doubt the best performing talent of all Chang's offspring; Chang expected a lot of Chen. When Chen decided to open a school in Shanxi to nurture more Henan opera students in 1995, Chang provided a great deal of spiritual and capital support.
However, the school later led to heated disputes between the grandmother and granddaughter, and eventually caused a rift between them.
To cater to entertainment industry demand, Chen focused on the cultivation of singing and dancing actors, instead of classic Henan opera actors.
Chen admitted in an interview that Henan opera was in a crisis, but she stressed that survival was the first thing on her mind. She and her students frequently appeared on TV entertainment programs, which made her a familiar face to millions of Chinese audiences.
Distraught Chang talked with Chen many times, trying to persuade her to return to the stage, only to be disappointed by Chen, who in the legend's eyes -- and those of many opera fans -- had totally forgone her responsibilities as a Henan opera heiress.
"Grandma, times are changing. Henan opera has no future. It's not appropriate for me to follow in your footsteps," Chen told her grandma.
Although upset by this, Chang knew she was approaching the end of her life, and harbored hopes that Chen would relent in her commercialism.
"She didn't announce her decison to cancel Chen's stage name before she passed away because she thought her death might touch Chen, making her realize her responsibility which would become even heavier with the death of her grandma," Luo said.
But were Chang to look down from heaven now, she would still be disappointed to see Chen continuing to abandon her grandmother's hopes and expections, with no effort to develop Henan opera.
One year after Chang's death, Luo and Chen Jiakang thought it was time to announce the wishes of Chang's will.
The announcement received wide support from Chang's students who expressed their admiration for Chang's courage in slamming her own granddaughter.
"Opera is larger than the sky," Chang often said during her lifetime. She would sacrifice anything that undermined her pursuit for artistic perfection.
"Any ordinary person would be glad to help their offspring gain fame, but Chang's act showed that she was a person out of the common run," said the admiring Luo.
However, whispers surfaced doubting the affection between the grandma and granddaughter. Gao Yuqiu, a Henan opera artist and one of Chang's students, fended off these rumors, saying that Chang was in anguish when making the decision. "Her hands were trembling when she signed her name on the letter," Guo said.
Shi Lei, a researcher at Henan Arts Research Institute, also thought the decision had nothing to do with personal rifts. "Opera is larger than the sky, not to mention family members," Shi said: "Chang didn't allow anyone to get honors of which he or she wasn't deserving."
Her decision protected traditional opera culture and sent out a warning to future generations of opera lovers, Shi added.
(Shenzhen Daily August 26, 2005)
