Taiwanese Opera: Fun vs. Fine Art

It's no secret that I'm a fan of Taiwanese opera (歌仔戲), even if I post about it far less often than I do temple parades and other festivals. 

This time of year happens to be a great one for Taiwanese opera fans, enthusiasts and people who are just interested and want to check it out. Baosheng Dadi's birthday was this past week, and Bao'an Temple, as a part of its Baosheng Cultural Festival, puts on several operas around the time of the festival: all free, all by good performers, all outdoors in the open stage area directly across from the main temple (which is where firewalking also takes place).

Then, in May, the theater on the top floor of Yongle Market on Dihua Street (yes, there is a theater up there) will start a series of not free but still very good operas that you can buy tickets for online. What's great about these performances is that you can learn about the story ahead of time - drop by Yongle Market or pick up a brochure at Bao'an Temple, where they are often available - and it will list which operas are playing on which days, what tickets cost and how to buy them, and a synopsis of each opera. The summaries are in Chinese, but if you can read Chinese or get a friend to help, you can go in knowing the basic outlines of the story you'll be watching. The operas on Dihua Street will last through June and July, with the Xiahai City God Temple celebrating the City God's birthday and more.

If you've never tried Taiwanese opera, or can read Chinese but are too intimidated by an opera in Taiwanese to check it out, but are interested - now is the time! (Note: for the outside, free operas, lines form as early as 1pm, for some performances you could get away with lining up at 4pm, and chairs are distributed around 5:30 or 6 for a 7pm showing. Show up early or you'll be stuck all the way in the back. You can put a bag down to save a space in line and get those around you to watch it for you and explore the area if you don't want to stand in line for that long.

Me and Sasha waiting in line at Bao'an Temple. I've got the all-important brochure in hand.

I'm lucky to have a local friend who is passionate about Taiwanese opera to occasionally take me along, explain a few details through the show and let me know if something good is coming up (with a story she can fill me in on beforehand). Most younger Taiwanese folks are not as into opera as Sasha is, but if you have such a friend, see if they'd be willing to introduce you to this art form.

I'm not quite sure why I like Taiwanese opera so much, because while I do enjoy Western opera (Tosca, Aida and The Ring of the Nibelung - especially Rheingold - are favorites), I never managed to get into Beijing opera or really any "Chinese opera" form from China - although I don't mind Sichuanese opera. Generally, though - too much caterwauling, not enough feeling. Too much screeching and clanging, not enough melody.

Taiwanese opera is, however, different. It is more melodic, with less screaming and more music. I find it to be more aurally pleasant overall, rather than the sound of swinging an angry cat at a metal pole.

I like it because it's more interactive - almost democratic. Taiwanese opera, while it has the trappings of a rarefied form of fine art, is really entertainment for the masses. You don't go to fancy theaters in fancy dress like a tourist herded through Beijing and sit quietly while performers wow you. You sit in the open air - much of the time - in jeans, with a corn dog and a bag of guava slices you bought outside - and pay little or nothing to be entertained.

Performers regularly add "au courant" jokes into the libretto: at one point in the opera I saw last night - 薛丁山與樊梨花 - General Xue Dingshan asked what to do: he didn't want to marry the non-Han sorceress Fan Lihua, but he was forced into promising to do so. What could he say that would allow him to please her, stay honest and not break a promise?


"Why don't you like her proposal on Facebook?" Fan Lihua's servant said.


I know - ha ha ha - but we're talking mass entertainment, and in the middle of an opera full of glittering costumes and live music, it was kind of funny. The same servant later on came out wearing big sunglasses as a "disguise" and later still wandered around "drunk" with a tallboy of Asahi in hand.

Performers regularly break the fourth wall, as well. One looked at us after the younger sister of one of the general's wives stormed off and we started clapping, and said "don't you clap for her!" General Xue himself turned to the audience at one point to ask what we would do if we had three wives and couldn't please all of them no matter what decision we made. I wanted to shout "就選一個太太而已！" but held back. In the middle of a scene, performers will regularly wink at the audience, or "shush" them, or ask them for backup.

I like this - it shows Taiwanese opera's roots in entertaining people, not being an art form consumed merely by the upper classes (take a look around any audience for an open-air opera at Bao'an Temple, and your first thought will not be "these are the upper classes". This is what the neighborhood middle-class obasans do for fun in the evening). I don't feel like I have to dress nicely or wait for "intermission" to get a glass of wine. While both are art forms, I feel entirely different at a Taiwanese opera than I did at the opera I saw in Prague (Rigoletto) years ago, or the operas I've seen at the Kennedy Center.

Most Taiwanese operas will begin with a warm-up of sorts - Fu, Lu and Shou (the three gods you see on top of temples) will make an appearance, and you might see 跳加官 (the dancing god in a mask), 喜神 (the two "men" in red robes) and 麻姑 (dancing women with fans). 


There are photos of all of these above. 

You might also see a 財神 (Wealth God - the one who "comes to your door" on Chinese New Year) who might throw out gold-foil wrapped candies from a gold ingot into the crowd.


These aren't the main part of the opera, but it's believed that an opera can't be performed well if these short performances don't take place first. It's like "blessing" the opera, if you will.

The opera we saw - Xue Dingshan and Fan Lihua (薛丁山興樊梨花) was about General Xue - famous for not only his marriage to Fan Lihua, but also for accidentally killing his father (which was depicted in a later scene). Fan Lihua, a non-Han woman who knows magic, is told that her fate is to be Xue Dingshan's wife.

"Her kung fu is better than his" (as explained Sasha), so she manages to capture him, and then sings a song about how she's too shy to tell him she loves him and wants to marry him - within his earshot, of course, and after he's captured her, so she's fooling nobody.

He doesn't want to marry her but the other choice is to fight her again, which he also doesn't want to do, so he swears to marry her. He then tries to escape, but she uses her magic to make his promise to stay come true (he tries to leave but can't due to floods and storms). This is supposed to happen three times, but it was condensed into one for this play.

They marry, but for whatever reason Xue Dingshan doesn't love Fan Lihua (gee, I wonder why!) and "divorces" her (apparently you could divorce a woman in ancient Chinese folk tales by saying "I'm leaving").

Then Xue changes his mind and they re-marry, only to be divorced again when Lihua's godson arrives, and he's almost as old as she is. I'm not sure why this is important, but it's implied she keeps bad company and he leaves again.

Fan Lihua then lures him back by pretending to be dead. At her funeral, Xue Dingshan is in tears, and Fan Lihua "reappears", and they marry yet again, in front of her funeral altar, or whatever you call it in English. Hooray! His other wives, who disliked her before, are happy now because they need her magic and want her back.

Then it's over, everyone comes out to bow, and someone gives General Xue's "old counselor" a giant teddy bear with a pink bow on it, which is hilarious.

Next month: 我愛何東獅, about Song Dynasty poet Su Dongpo's "terrible wife who is not tender to her husband", and after that, 紅樓夢, which, if you don't know this classic story, go look it up!

Dance

Bunun (I think...please correct me if I'm wrong) dance in Kaohsiung's Central Park MRT Station

While we were in Kaohsiung a few weeks ago, we happened upon this aboriginal dance show taking place in the Central Park MRT Station. We'd stopped in the aboriginal goods stores opened - so we were told - partially thanks to the efforts of Chen Chu - to buy Taiwanese coffee and other small items as the show was about to start. This was not the first time we've seen aboriginal dancing - sometimes in the context of actual festivals where the dancing has some sort of cultural meaning, and sometimes...not.

If you've spent any amount of time in Taiwan at all, you've surely encountered these dance shows - you can see them every weekend evening at the Naruwan Indigenous People's Market at the intersection of Huanhe and Guangzhou Roads not far from Longshan Temple (and practically across the street from the historic Xuehai Academy, the first "university" in Taiwan - now a family shrine - also mentioned in the post linked to above). On certain days they're held in Kaohsiung's Central Park station, and there are other venues in which to see them, as well. Both Taipei City Hall and Kaohsiung Central Park MRT Stations have aboriginal stores, but only Kaohsiung's also has dances.

It's rare to have the knowledge and chance to attend many of the more authentic festivals (Pasta'ai is the easiest to get to, and even that takes some work if you want to go to Wufeng, not Nanzhuang), and you're about as likely to encounter the everyday use of traditional dress as you are to come across a Taiwanese woman walking down the street in a full qipao ("qipao-inspired" doesn't count, nor does a tiny dog in a qipao costume - a labrador in a qipao might count)...but seeing these dance shows is dead easy if you are so inclined.

Amis Tribe dance in Taipei's Naruwan Market

I'm not sure what to make of them, honestly. It is absolutely true that many (most? all?) of the aboriginal tribes of Taiwan incorporate dancing into festivals and rituals, to the point where non-aboriginal Taiwanese can often imitate the basic moves of common dances.

Dancing at Pasta'ai 2010 in Wufeng

They certainly help spread at least basic knowledge of these tribal cultures, little-known outside Taiwan. They help bring to the public eye more recognition that there is more to Taiwanese culture than that which came from China (or Japan) - more so than museums that, while important (and however excellent), are simply not as active, interactive or in the public eye.

And yet, I can't help but also watch them and feel like one adjective that could be used to describe these dances is "exploitative". Maybe. I'm not sure about that, but the thought has stayed with me long enough to spur me to blog about it. These dances, taken out of context and set down in a subway station or food court - do they really accomplish more than a fleeting thought of "yeah, aboriginal stuff is pretty cool" in the minds of the audience? Does it convey any lasting knowledge or encourage more in-depth learning about aboriginal affairs?

I guess I just don't know what to think, and yes, I realize sometimes it's OK not to have a strong opinion, and to instead muse on possible points of view.

On one hand, many people would never be exposed to this important cultural element of Taiwan if it weren't for such dance shows. That goes for locals, many (not all!) of whom wouldn't actively seek out such facets of their own national history, as well as foreigners, especially those who don't stay long enough to gain such exposure otherwise (click on the "seven hellish months" link). These dances are also generally related in some way to aboriginal stores and eateries - I love millet wine so I find myself in the stores a lot - which I am sure helps boost exposure, and therefore revenue. For what it's worth, the performers seem to enjoy themselves, and the shows do attract a reasonably sized audience, and the shows seem to be organized by the dancers themselves and not by some outside force being all "show us your quaint Native Dances!" (If that were the case I'd be disgusted).

There's also the fact that live performances, to a far greater extent than in contemporary America, are more ingrained in the public psyche. Back home you'd be hard-pressed to find a local band or singing group playing under the town square gazebo anymore, and sadly, the tradition of holiday caroling has almost died out (I'm a fan of the old-school tradition, which involves lots of wassail or a suitably alcoholic substitute, and is much more "rowdy kids demanding treats" than "family oriented").

And yet here, there's super-loud karaoke - seriously, who here hasn't started a hike up a mountain only to come across a temple and associated public complex in which someone was atonally screaming their favorite classic songs? You know you have. Don't even pretend. There are seemingly-randomly staged budaixi puppet shows (I regularly come across them in Jingmei Night Market, put on for no discernible reason).

Budaixi - Taiwanes puppetry - puppet (without body) sporting an unusual number of heads

There are free-to-the-public showings of Taiwanese opera (gezaixi) outside temples as well as in the square around Yongle Market on Dihua Street...just because the people want opera.

Taiwanese opera - gexaixi - free to the public outside Bao'an Temple

Troupes of kids practice Michael Jackson moves to Jamiroquai hits - yeah, I don't know either - or communally engage in urban dance moves - in the esplanades of sports centers and underground malls in Taipei. Finally, what is a temple fair if not a series of live performances, from lion dancers to dragon dancers to bajiajiang?

Ba jia jiang outside of Qingshan Gong during a temple fair on Guiyang St., Taipei

Practically everywhere you turn there's a live show of some sort - some of them transcendent and others amateur-but-charming.

I can see how aboriginal dance shows would fit into that sort of culture.

The second part of the show in MRT Central Park

On the other hand, taking these dances out of context, putting the dancers in costumes they otherwise never wear, that likely haven't been worn commonly since their grandparents' generation, and sticking it in a subway station does make me wonder. Is it Culture Lite? Is it selling out something that would otherwise be authentic?

I don't have the answers, but I have to admit that I've been gnawing on the questions.

A Busy Weekend

Taiwanese opera, the birthday "inspection tour" of Wenchang, the god of education and exams, a party at Citizen Cain, an attempt to hike Huang Di Dian and tofu in Shiding, all squeezed into two days. It's been a whirlwind of excitement.



We arrived back in Taipei mid-week and booked the weekend full of activities with friends. After teaching my first class in 6 weeks this past Saturday, we went to Dihua Street for lunch (there's a famous food stall there that does Tainan-style shrimp rolls over rice and vegetables) and to see at Taiwanese opera with friends. We figured it was a fitting way to celebrate 2/28 even though it didn't involve attending any anti-KMT protests.

Unlike the open-air operas common at festivals, this one cost $100 NT for admission and was held on the 9th floor of the textile market (#21 in the old market building). I didn't realize that there was a stage on the top floor of this place and would have never thought to look for performances there if it hadn't been for my friend Sasha.

We saw 太陽偏與枝無葉 - Tai Yanpian Yu Zhi Wuye - about two students (Tai Yanpian and Zhi Wuye) who both fail the civil service exam and take an oath of brotherhood. Both are quite poor and on the verge of becoming beggars. They part and Zhi Wuye has some good luck early on. However, the woman he brokered a marriage with (Tan Hua - a kind of flower that is also a metaphor for fleeting luck) ran away because she didn't want to marry a "beggar", and his luck left him. Tan Hua then saw a fortune teller who told her that she would become with, but only if she married a beggar - and that she would have to pursue a match with this beggar. Her servant is told that she, too, will become wealthy. She ran into Tai Yanpian who now looks pretty down and out. They both end up spending the night in a 'haunted house' (I didn't really understand this part) where the ghosts of the house get them both to sleepwalk into the same room, where they've hidden a pot of gold and jewels. The two find the treasure and marry, and become very rich. Tai Yanpian searches for his brother, and Tanhua helps find him (a housekeeper - ? - she is acquainted with knows how to locate him, because she is the one who arranged the marriage that didn't work out. Or something.) They meet, but it turns out that Zhi Wuye has also run into the fortune teller who says 'don't expect grand things from life' and that only through his wife can he own wealth. This means that he's not meant to enjoy the finer things in life and can't ingest meat or wine or wear fine clothes. He resolves to leave and make his own way, and Tanhua and Tai Yanpian give him some bread. He gives most of it away to a beggar family who has helped him and only when he has two pieces left does he realize that Tai and Tanhua have hidden gold inside each one. He laments again his fate of being unable to own wealth. Then Tanhua's servant goes around buying up the bread from the beggars and returns it to Zhi Wuye. As she is the woman he is supposed to marry, and she brought the money to him, he is 'allowed' by fate to have it - the two marry and both couples live a happy, prosperous life.

It was a fun opera to watch, and one part was sung by a very well-known performer whose name slips my mind. Two of the cast members were men, which is interesting for Taiwanese opera (as far as I know, it's mostly performed by women). I'm happy I had Sasha next to me to explain the plot as I have only a limited vocabulary in Taiwanese...and I'm not even sure I could have followed this in Mandarin.

I'm not sure that I care for the main themes, however. I liked the idea that the roles were reversed as a part of the story - women who pursue their husbands or who bring the family wealth, something unheard of in really old school Chinese and Taiwanese culture. I'm not sure I liked the fact that these themes were inserted for comedic purposes ("haha, she's a woman but she's pursuing him!") but maybe I should loosen up; times have changed, after all.

There's also a very Western notion that fate doesn't control your wealth - you and your actions do. The most that fate controls is how much natural acumen you have for earning money and being frugal with it. The underlying theme of this otherwise enjoyable opera was that you don't have any control over whether or not you will wind up rich - either the fates decree that you will be prosperous, or they'll say that you won't. If they say you won't, there's not much you can do about that except follow their directives. Maybe it's a huge cultural difference here, but that just doesn't sit well, you know?

When the opera finished, we came out to discover one of those awesome god processionals in full swing. I asked around and it turns out that 2/28 this year is the birthday of Wenchang, the god of education and examinations.

His processional was a long one, starting at least 30 minutes before the opera ended and an hour later, still going strong. It seemed to be looping from Longshan Temple (where there is a shrine to him), past Xiahai City God Temple and then - we think - heading up to Bao'an Temple.

It had everything :

...tall god costumes...




...ba jia jiang (martial defenders of the gods during their processionals)...




...lion and dragon dancers...




...dancing guys...




...flag bearers...



...that ginormous drum that one temple has which you can hear a kilometer away...





...and of course, midgets (actually children) dressed as dolls disco dancing in a line with a baby frog and a cute demon...



...with another disco dancing guy on top of a truck.

After all this excitement, we headed back to my place and got ready to go out. Our friend finished her school contract recently and threw a party to celebrate the horror of buxiban life finally being over and done with.

I completely empathize; Kojen made me want to do the same thing. I wouldn't recommend buxiban teaching for more than a year for anyone, and I don't know how some people manage to keep working at those places without turning into serial killers. I'd have thrown the same sort of party but working there, I had so little free time that I really had no good friends in Taiwan save Roy and my boyfriend. I didn't start to have a social life until I got a better job and more than one day a week off.

No good photos from this though - we were all enjoying ourselves too much to take lots of snaps. Citizen Cain isn't my favorite place but it's perfectly OK - they seem to make all their money from organized group get-togethers because every time I've been there it's either empty, or full with a huge group and almost nobody who is there independently. They do a decent enough hummus and babaghanouj but mine is better!

Then we headed out to Party World, which is heinously overpriced on weekends. I don't think I would go back; at least not to one in a popular area like Zhongxiao Dunhua and not on a weekend night. On the upside, I learned how to sing "Super Star" and "Hey U Mr. Q" and did a pretty hilarious rendition of the opera singer in "Fearless". I also learned "Taibei Bu Shi Wo De Jia" (Taipei Is Not My Home - apparently the singer's jia is Lugang, where there are no traffic lights).

Heading home at 3am, we woke up again at 8am and took Satan's own bus, the 666, to Shiding. It was damp and drizzly, but we still had some horrid notion that we could climb Huang Di Dian in such conditions. We were wrong.

Entrance to the Stupid Stairs That Go On For Something Like 200 Hours

We took the wrong way 'round because nobody bothered to read their Taipei Day Trips before setting out, and the locals among us didn't see anything wrong with climbing stairs for hours. Yay! Stairs! Why so many people in Asia think that a natural trail is a horrible thing and it is much better to replace mountain paths with freaking stairs is beyond me. People normally wake up thinking, "Today is a lovely day. I'd like to go hiking and get some fresh mountain air." They do not wake up thinking "Today is a lovely day. I'd like to go outside and climb some stairs." So why? Why?! Maybe we can start an NGO with the mission of tearing down all those freaking stairs on mountains. Who's with me?

Oh, and it was cloudy so there was no view. At least the air was fresh.

Clouds

After "hiking" up stairs for a few hours, we realized it was too wet and dangerous to actually make it to the ridge near Huang Di Dian and we turned down another fork which took us down some more goddamned stairs to get back to Shiding.

And all this on 4 hours of sleep.

Shiding is a lovely, if small, town that doesn't really have a lot of historic buildings or anything else to recommend it architecturally, though it does have a lovely stream and some mountain views. There are some old houses, though most aren't much to see from the outside. You can explore inside one of them, located in the covered market area.

Candlesticks in an old Shiding House

The food was, of course, delicious and there weren't many tourists, either. A few of them crowded through in the afternoon, but they were all gone by 4 and we had the place to ourselves. Shiding is near several good hikes, including some Pingxi-like ascents and Erge Shan, which we never made it to the last time. (I assume Huang Di Dian is one of these good hikes, but I wouldn't really know as our attempt ended in abject failure).

Shiding

Shiding is famous for tofu, and with good reason. The various kinds of tofu available there are excellent - all with a soft, silky texture and a bit more natural flavor than average tofu. We got red-sauce cooked tofu, fried tofu and a silky tofy in thick broth, all of which were fantastic. The wild chicken and sweet potato leaves were also excellent; the chicken was soft, juicy and flavorful and generously meaty. I'd recommend stopping in Shiding, if anything, to eat a big, tasty meal. Afterwards we retreated to a nearby teahouse to play cards for a few hours and nurse our stair-climbing sore limbs.

...as well as looking around a little bit to soak up the small-town atmosphere.

Some Interesting Things in Shiding

After all this, we headed home and while Emily packed up her overnight things, Brendan surfed online and I crashed on the couch, not to awake until the next morning.

Reason #1 to love Taiwan

Taiwanese Opera.








...much more palatable than Chinese (or rather, Beijing) Opera, it's cousin. Less caterwauling, less beating-a-stray-cat-against-a-pole screeching.

More singing and music.

Needless to say, I prefer Ge Tzai Xi (not sure of that second word should be a "c" or "z" so I made up my own Romanization. Hey, everyone's doin' it!). I can't understand what's going on most of the time unless local spectators fill me in, as it's sung mostly in Taiwanese. That doesn't matter, though. I don't speak German and I love The Ring of the Nibelung, Die Meistersinger and Rienzi. I don't speak Italian and I love Aida.

In a way, it's almost better not to understand. Understanding the chanter at the Confucius Temple took all of the mystique out of it.

I'm especially a fan of a local troupe made up entirely of women who perform regularly at Bao'an and Dihua Street - their productions are entirely in Taiwanese. I think this was the same group but I'm not sure.



After watching the rehearsal for Confucius's birthday and before going to Dalong Street Night Market for dinner to have the best octopus of my life, we found this performance going on across the street from Bao'an Temple, in the property owned by Bao'an where the firewalking usually takes place.

I'm hoping to inspire more travelers to come and explore Taiwan and take advantage of the confluence of cultural heritage, friendliness, delicious food and stunning natural beauty here. With that in mind, here are some photos and a video, for those who aren't familiar with it:



And some videos...