Revisiting the Chinese opera

DIGITAL technology and modern-day entertainment are fast pushing traditional art forms to the brink of oblivion.

The Chinese opera is one such form of dramatic and musical theatre at grave risk of disappearing with the passage of time as society continues to evolve.

In 1950, the one and only Chinese opera troupe from Kuching — Yi Sing Fukien Dramatic Association — was formed, and after a span of six decades, is still performing today.

The association now has over 100 members, most of whom are veterans between 40 and 80 years old.

With the decline of this dramatic art form, perhaps this is the perfect time to revisit a proud tradition that has been entertaining the Chinese community for over a thousand years.

Chinese opera comes in many forms, separated by regions and dialects with the notable ones being Beijing Opera (Jingju), Cantonese Opera (Yueju), Sichuan Opera and Shanghai-based Kunqu Opera.

It is a form of story-telling that captures the imagination by combinating and turning dialogue, singing, music, acting, colourful costumes and make-up into a spectacular theatrical art form.

In Kuching, it is known as Gezai xi or Taiwanese Opera, making use of lively, folksy language with extensive use of Southern Fujianese dialectical terms.

Gezai xi has its roots in mainland China, having absorbed and combined several forms of performing arts and regional operas from the southern region of China’s Fujian Province. Performances were mainly held to accompany religious processions and temple fairs.

In the past, many female roles were played by males because there were no girls in the performing troupe.

“In the old days, women had to observe a very reserved and controlled conduct. They were not supposed to show their faces in the public,” recalled Sarawak’s Chinese opera pioneer, Chew Eee San, 80.

Chinese Opera places much emphasis on facial make-up (which could take hours to do) but it is particularly fascinating and rich in meaning.

“It is used to introduce characters, indicate personalities and differentiate between good and evil,” Chew explained.

There are generally four main roles in Chinese Opera — Sheng (male roles), Dan (female roles), Jing (painted face roles), and Hua Lian (clowns).

Each category is further subdivided into distinct types. White generally symbolises cunning, treachery and unthrustworthy behaviour whereas red stands for bravery and trust, blue for recklessness and black for integrity and justice.

Make-up also highlights the importance of emphasising the eyes which serve to direct the audience to important characters and objects in the play.

Costumes are enormously important as well in distinguishing the different groups of characters. All costumes have to be beautiful for poor or rich characters.

The brighter and more striking colours are for the rich and young while the poor, servants and elderly tend to wear brown and grey.

Starting point

Chinese opera in Sarawak started in 1950 during the state’s recovery from the Second World War as a leisure activity. At that time, TV was a luxury and Chinese language movies rarely shown in the cinemas.

Some 20 boys — mostly immigrants from China – got together to form a troupe and the Kuching Yi Sing Fukien Dramatic Association was registered in 1952.

Chew from Fujian, China, migrated here in 1949 at just 17 to reunite with his parents. He picked up the basics of Chinese opera when he was a little boy in China and he met the rest of the members here.

“It was more a hobby in the beginning but somehow, things got serious and Chinese opera has since become our passion,” he said.

The Yi Sing troupe made its debut during the birthday celebration of Kueh Seng Onn deity in 1950.

According to Chew, things were difficult at first without adequate funding and a proper place to practise.

Troupe members were not full-time actors as they all held permanent jobs but despite the obstacles, they devoted time and resources to pursue the hobby.

“We need money for costumes, make-up, props and so on. I even sewed our costumes back then,” Chew said, adding that his first job was as a tailor before switching to a barber.

“Also, we had no proper place keep the wardrobe and equipment. Practice usually took place at night and we made use of the space at the back of a soap factory at Padungan,” he recalled.

Fortunately, they were able to raise $3,200 (Malaysian dollars then) around the time they were pushing to get the association registered.

Their first post-registration performance was on Feb 20, 1952 — for two nights in a row. It was very well received and this motivated the troupe to do even better.

Thereafter, Gezai xi became the most popular form of entertainment for the local Chinese community.

It was sheer passion and perseverance that saw the troupe through the tough times but more importantly, according to Chew, they were enjoying “a life full of colours, excitement and adventure along with a little fame and reputation.”

Ups and downs

With a good reputation, the troupe received offers to do more and more shows in and around Kuching on several significant occasions in 1953.

In 1957, the troupe went to Sibu for their first major performance outside Kuching.

“It was dark during the journey and we got a bit worried but it was a great experience,” Chew remembered.

The shows were very successful, passing their running times with huge crowds in attendance.

“People asked for our autographs. We were like small-time celebrities,” Chew chuckled as he reminiscenced the past glory.

During their departure at the harbour, firecrackers were let off to bid them farewell

“We were very touched by the reception,” he added.

However, despite their popularity and more offers to stage performances, they were not making enough money. So the association formed a lion dance troupe in the 60’s to help make ends meet.

The year 1963 was good for the association as the two troupes – opera and lion dance – worked together to obtain some good funding.

Sadly though, without a permanent home, the association was like a snail without shell but the members did not throw in the towel — they supported each other through the lean times.

Finally a home

After years of struggling, the association finally bought a house at Jalan Ban Hock, Kuching, in 1969 which remains its permanent centre till today.

The centre serves as a venue for meetings and practice as well for keeping the wardrobe and general storage.

Framed black and white photos of actors and actresses adorn the walls beside countless awards and certificates of appreciation.

An antique salon chair, perhaps close to a century old, sits at one corner. All these bear testimomy to the rough and tumble the association has endured over the past 60 years … and prevailed.

Chew, a grandfather of 10, still works as a barber. He moved his salon to the association about three years ago.

Before this, he had been running a salon near Kuching High School for nearly 50 years.

“Now, most of my customers are regulars including Datuk Yong Khoon Seng,” he proudly declared.

Besides paid shows, the troupe also performed to help raise funds for charitable organisations like the Salvation Army apart from Chinese schools and disaster victims.

In later years, the association did receive some funding from the government in support and preservation of cultural and traditional arts.

However, Chew admitted it was difficult to promote such traditional art forms because young people lacked the interest — even more so now due to pressures of the modern world that is heavily influenced by western pop culture.

He added: “Perhaps one day, this house (centre) will be turned into a mini museum where Chinese opera and its memories and stories could be kept alive for the future generations to appreciate.”

Uncertain future

Things started to change for Chinese opera and other traditional art forms in Sarawak in the late 70’s with the emergence of the cinema and other forms of entertainment such as karaoke and KTV.

Lifestyles were changing and moving at a much faster pace. Over time, the exponents of traditional art forms found themselves being increasingly edged out by modern entertainment and their popularity started to wane.

In 1978, the association decided to form a pop group to cater to the younger crowd. While the pop group hogged the limelight, the opera troupe was tucked away on the backburner. But the pop group’s popularity was short-lived. Before long, people forgot about it.

The fate of Chinese opera was not getting any rosier either. Audiences who favoured more lively bands, slowly disappeared from Chinese opera shows while traditional lovers of Chinese opera became a dying breed.

Most worrisome of all, the ageing traditional Chinese opera fans are not being replaced by the younger generation who have difficulties accepting what must be to them a dull performing art form.

“We do realise Chinese opera is a dying art and we have tried hard to revive it. I think the main problem is the new generation have been influenced by modern lifestyles. They have lost touch with the tradition, unable to appreciate this form of art,” Chew lamented.

Perhaps, what he said is true. Disinterest among the upcoming generation is ringing the death knell of this once popular dramatic art form.

Chinese opera cannot fit into the local theatrical scene, having long lost its charm and appeal. Rock, pop and rap music and street dancing have all but taken over.

The pioneers are at loss on how to save or preserve Chinese opera whose future seems bleaker than ever.

“I don’t know what to do. The younger generation are not interested,” Chew said when asked for his thoughts on the dying traditional art form.

It is difficult to express in words the feeling of loss over something people, especially from the Chinese community, have been fond of for six decades.

While realising Chinese opera has long passed its golden age, some still cling on to the faint hope that this ‘cultural treasure’ can still be preserved.

Chinese opera today

After 60 years, there is still a glaring lack of “new blood” in the Yi Sing troupe. The same group of veterans (between 40 and 80 years old) — even those working behind the scene — are still around to carry on the tradition and unlikely to put up their feet in the foreseeable future.

Performances are only staged during important religious celebrations such as the birthdays of deities to make the entertainment merrier.

The old theatre opposite the Kueh Seng Onn Temple, owned by the Kuching Hokkien Association, at Leboh Wayang, is the only venue where Chinese opera is still staged today.

In recent years, an old bazaar cafe operating within the compound of the theatre has brought new night life back to this deserted place which only lights up when a show is scheduled.

Last October, the troupe staged a performance called A Broken Mirror Made Whole Again (po jing chongyuan) — probably its last for the year.

It told a story about a couple reuniting after a long separation. The script was different from the original although the gist remained the same.

“We could have written and rewritten over 200 original plays,” Chew said.

Before the show began, a ritual was performed to thank and honour the gods and deities.

Set against a grand backdrop, the show featured performers with diversified facial make-up and wearing colourful and embellished traditional Chinese costumes.

A small group of traditional Chinese musicians accompanied the performance from backstage.

I have to admit I did not understand most of the play because first, I could hardly hear the performers and secondly, the Hokkien used was different from the Hokkien we converse in.

It seemed the performers no longer took the acting seriously as most of the play was acted out in a rather spontaneous manner.

Like the fading colours of the costumes, the make-up had been toned down or simply done, the voices of the performers had lost their clarity and their ageing bones no longer permitted them to move about well.

But who could blame them? Opportunities for them to appear on stage were limited to probably fewer than 10 times a year during the three most important annual temple festivals.

More importantly, they were contented and happy to be where they were — laughing and enjoying their moment on stage while entertaining a small audience of mostly families, close friends and the few customers hanging out at the cafe.

A little reflection

Traditional Chinese opera is in dire need of a revamp. Perhaps the Yi Sing troupe could consider fusing traditional Chinese opera with modern story-telling and other theatrical effects to create an original repertoire to appeal to contemporary audiences.

Musicwise, it can feature elements of modern tunes besides using classical intruments such as flutes and fiddles.

Certainly, passionate, talented, creative and inspirational new blood is needed to revive and popularise this dying ancient art and guide it towards new direction.