“Fusion Blossom from Mei Lan Fang” — An Homage to the Late Peking Opera Master
Mei Lan-Fang, once praised as the “Queen of Peking Opera” was the muse for the 3-day program “Fusion Blossom of Mei Lan Fang” held at the newly-opened Taipei Performing Arts Centre.
TAIPEI, Taiwan — In the past, there was a time when actors on stage were looked down upon as xizi (literally the one who performs) in service of the wealthy and powerful. This derogative term, however, didn’t apply to Mei Lan-Fang (1894–1961) who, having revolutionised one of the most important traditional art forms in China, was praised as the “Queen of Peking Opera”.
In the Qing dynasty (1636–1911), women were forbidden to perform onstage, and feminine beauty ideal was largely shaped by male actors. In Peking opera, Mei Lan-Fang (梅蘭芳) was best known for his cross-gender performance, elevating the supporting role of female lead (dan) to protagonist. In opera circles, the so-called Mei School is characterised by Mei Lan-Fang’s poised, lyrical style.
Besides refining the dan role, Mei also introduced Chinese fiddle erhu as musical accompaniment — this is one of the key indicators that differentiate Peking opera (Jinju) from Kun opera (Kunqu) today. The changes that Mei brought to Peking opera took place both onstage and offstage, where he reworked the scripts, costumes, stage sets, lighting and much more, raising the bar for the breadth and depth of aesthetic experience that this traditional art form could offer. In 1930, Mei introduced this “exotic art” to the United States by immersing western audience in the quintessence of Chinese arts and culture as exemplified by Peking opera.
Program detail for “Fusion Blossom from Mei Lan Fang”
Courtesy of Taipei Performing Arts Centre
The legacy of Mei Lan-Fang lives on. As the third generation of the Mei School, Wei Hai-Ming (魏海敏) is a widely-recognised dan performer in Taiwan and China. She is the first disciple of Mei Bao-Jiu (梅葆玖), the son and only successor to Mei Lan-Fang.
To commemorate the 30th anniversary of Wei Hai-Ming becoming the disciple of Mei Bao-Jiu (who passed away in 2016), as well as paying homage to the great opera master, Wei curated the program series “Fusion Blossom from Mei Lan Fang” (在梅邊之緣), which was held at the Taipei Performing Arts Centre from August 12 to 14.
For this program, Wei selected three classic repertoires from the Mei School, namely Goddess of the Luo River (洛神), Farewell My Concubine (霸王別姬), and Mu Guiying Takes Command: Holding the Seals (捧印), in which she also played the dan role. I was fortunate to have been there for the opening performance, Goddess of the Luo River.
Groundbreaking Crossover of Art Forms in “Prelude to Goddess of Luo River”
As soon as the light goes out, dancer Billy Chang Yi-Chu (張逸軍) enters the stage and performs a solo. He wears a loose robe in black with two extremely long sleeves reminiscent of the water sleeves (shuixiu) used by opera performers.
The highlight of this evocative prelude is the accompanying narration “Prelude to Goddess of Luo River” (洛神引) written by Wang An-Chi (王安祈), Artistic Director of GuoGuang Theatre Company (國光劇團). This prelude traces the different modes of artistic expression that inspired Mei Lan-Fang to produce Goddess of the Luo River, from “Rhapsody on Goddess of Luo” (洛神赋) written by poet Cao Zhi (192–232 AD) to Nymph of the Luo River, a hand-scroll painting by esteemed artist Gu Kaizhi (345–406 AD), the latter of which was copied and imitated by generations of Chinese painters.
It’s no secret that Mei Lan-Fang often collaborated with literati when producing new work. For the mythology-inspired Goddess of Luo River, Mei worked closely with playwright Chi Ru-Shan (齊如山). Most of the scripts came from Cao’s poem, whereas the designs for its costumes and stage set were largely inspired by Gu’s painting. As Wang An-Chi’s prose gently reminds us, in the eyes of Mei Lan-Fang, “opera and painting are one.”
Chang Yi-Chun’s solo dance in “Prelude to Goddess of Luo River”
Courtesy of Wei Hai-Ming Peking Opera Arts Foundation
Recalling that ink was used by poets and painters in ancient China, it suddenly became clear that the dance movement recreates that of the ink running on paper. On one occasion, Wei Hai-Ming referred to the dancer as “Spirit of Ink”, which was probably present when poet Cao was composing the poem, and artist Gu painting his renowned oeuvre.
Though the narration was told in classical Chinese — part of it was somewhat difficult to comprehend— the prose was nevertheless elegantly written. What’s more, it was narrated by Wei Hai-Ming in a tone that mimics the late opera master, as if Mei Lan-Fang himself was recounting the creative process for Goddess of Luo River.
One can’t find a better prelude than this sophisticated narration combined with calligraphic dance movement on stage. But — isn’t this supposed to be an opera performance?
In the hope of introducing Mei’s classic repertoires through a new lens, Wei Hai-Ming staged a cross-genre prelude at the beginning of each performance. In the case of Goddess of Luo River, it was the dance, whereas in the remaining two performances — Farewell My Concubine and Mu Guiying Takes Command: Holding the Seals — music and pingshu (a traditional form of storytelling in China) was staged, respectively.
When watching the “Prelude to Goddess of Luo River”, I couldn’t help but feel goosebumps. In my view, this crossover between tradition and contemporary presents the epitome of Peking opera. It’s not far-fetched to say that this rare experience, which arouse a strong emotion among those sitting in the audience, has succeeded in perpetuating the legacy of Mei Lan-Fang.
Wei Hai-Ming as Goddess of Luo River on stage
Courtesy of Wei Hai-Ming Peking Opera Arts Foundation
Goddess of the Luo River
The story is set in the Three Kingdoms period (220–280 AD). After the poet Cao Zijiang (also known as Cao Zhi) visited his brother, the Emperor Wen of Wei, he received a jade paperweight from the possession of the deceased Queen Zhen. On his return trip, Cao spends the night at the Luo River Station, and holds onto the paperweight as he falls asleep.
In the meantime, Wei Hai-Ming who plays the role of goddess of the Luo River makes her debut on stage, accompanied by an imposing entourage of nymphs. She visits Cao in his dream, and instructs him to go and meet her by the river in the following day.
It turns out that the goddess is the late Queen Zhen, and Cao is informed of their fated relationship. The two express feelings of mutual affection and exchange token of love, and finally bid farewell to each other. Every scene lays out like a painting put together by performers, as if their every move is made consciously, be it a small hand gesture or footstep.
Mei Lan-Fang’s Goddess of Luo River exposes the poignant aspect of life, an element that was not common in Peking opera when it premiered in 1923. “The performer — besides knowing how to act — must have accumulated a certain amount of artistic accomplishment in order to succeed in playing the role of the goddess,” writes David Der-wei Wang, literary historian and critic.
Goddess of Luo River appears in Cao Zijian’s dream to arrange their rendezvous
Courtesy of Wei Hai-Ming Peking Opera Arts Foundation
Out of the three classic repertoires selected for this program, Goddess of River Luo is the least staged. When watching, I couldn’t help but wonder if this would be the last time for audience to witness this nearly 100-year-old gift bestowed on us by the late opera master.
Seeing Wei Hai-Ming onstage also reminds me of the two years’ time I’ve spent practicing the arts of Chinese opera, particularly Mei Lan-Fang’s renowned Drunken Concubine. There’s no better way to describe the performers’ hard work than the Chinese idiom that says, “one minute onstage requires ten years of hard work offstage.”
On a side note, I was a bit disturbed by the green-coloured fly whisk that the goddess was holding throughout the performance. A fly whisk, or duster, is used in Chinese opera as an indicator of the holder’s status, who is either a hermit, nymph, priest, monk or nun. I can’t seem to figure out why this particular colour was selected, which made it look really odd among the celestial-coloured costumes and stage set.
Cao Zijian bids farewell to the Goddess of Luo River, knowing that they’ll never meet again
Courtesy of Wei Hai-Ming Peking Opera Arts Foundation
Painting Legacy
“Fusion Blossom of Mei Lan Fang” not only reunited some of the most celebrated repertoires from the Mei School, but also gathered fans and amateurs of Peking opera to remember the great master. As for Wei Hai-Ming, her way of remembering her mentor, Mei Bao-Jiu, as well as Mei Lan-Fang, reaches beyond performing arts.
During the COVID-19 pandemic, Wei had the time to pick up calligraphy writing. In the process, she was exposed to the art of painting, where she made attempts to depict portraits of herself dressed up in exquisitely-made opera costumes.
On the occasion of “Fusion Blossom from Mei Lan Fang”, a mini exhibition was held near the entrance to the Grand Theatre at the Taipei Performing Arts Centre. This exhibition features a selection of five portraits painted by Wei Hai-Ming, including depiction of her playing the dan role in the three repertoires staged for this program.
This was the first time that Wei disclosed her achievement as a painter to the public, testifying to the fact that the legacy of the Mei School was not only nurtured by various modes of artistic expressions, but it can, in return, inspire all forms of art.
Goddess of the Luo River was staged at the Taipei Performing Arts Centre on August 12 as part of the special program “Fusion Blossom of Mei Lan Fang” that ran from August 12 to August 14, 2022.