“in the Wild North” by Ivan Shishkin (1891)
“Autumn in the Big City” by Spirosart
The sky’s water has fallen, and autumn clouds are thin,
The western wind has blown ten thousand li.
This morning’s scene is good and fine,
Long rain has not harmed the land.
The row of willows begins to show green,
The pear tree on the hill has little red flowers.
A hujia pipe begins to play upstairs,
One goose flies high into the sky.
天水秋云薄
从西万里风
今朝好晴景
久雨不妨农
塞柳行疏翠
山梨结小红
胡笳楼上发
一雁入高空
BEIJING, Nov. 18 (Xinhuanet) — The well-loved dance musical, “Dynamic Yunnan” is returning to the Chinese stage on its 10th anniversary. Directed by one of China’s most celebrated dancers, Yang Liping, the show recreates the indigenous musical culture of Yunnan’s diverse minority groups that is slowly effaced by modern life.
Yang has been called the ‘Peacock Princess.’ A title that is far from an exaggeration. Born in China’s Yunnan province, Ms. Yang has created numerous dances inspired by both the rich natural life and ethnic diversity of the region. Yet, no matter what she dances, she’s always strong and poised, much like the spirit of the Peacock.
A peacock dancing to the full moon, one of the enduring images of “Dynamic Yunnan”.
Of course, the dancer isn’t Yang Liping, but one of her successors; Yang Wu. But Yang Wu is ethereal in her portrayal of a young Yang Liping, of many full moons ago.
At the age of 11, she was the youngest of eight dancers selected by Xishuangbanna Prefecture Song and Dance Troupe from her village, to tour the region with the troupe. This tour through the local minority groups, laid the foundation of her aesthetics and became the inspiration for many of her works later in life.
“The Spirit of the Peacock,” choreographed and performed by Yang Liping, is one of them. This dance brought the girl from a Yunnan village to prominence and remains one of the most memorable dances of the last century.
My introduction to pingshu, traditional Chinese storytelling, was Yuan KuoCheng’s “Journey to the West”, a classical Chinese novel popular among all ages. Since then, pingshu has become a significant part of my bedtime story. I fall asleep imagining the Handsome Monkey King angering all the gods and fighting against the deities, swinging his 17,550-pound golden rod from heaven to hell, and using his 72 transformations to overcome all challenges throughout the journey. Words come out of Yuan’s mouth like clips of movies, vivid and captivating, as if the characters appear right in front of me. Listening to pingshu has allowed me, along with generations of Chinese, to appreciate the art of oral stories and the most powerful aspects of Chinese culture.
Most of the pingshu stories that I have listened to are drawn from Chinese history and can be broken into several classifications. The story of loyal and law-abiding officials or chivalrous and dauntless folk heroes, for instance, is my favorite. The characters in this type of pingshu, such as the “Pure Official Bao”, help the commoners fight against evil and corruption in society, symbolizing the virtues of leniency and integrity.
Other types of pingshu also have their own characteristics: the conflicts during the Three Kingdom Period following the Han Dynasty and the early heroes of the Tang Dynasty are typical stories of the establishment of Chinese dynasties; the widely known stories of the Yang family and the renowned Chinese hero Yue Fei both depict tales of dynasties and conflicts, relating to a specific group of soldier’s experiences in resisting barbarian invasions; the last type of story, which differs from the previous three types in both content and narration style, is about fictional legends of monsters, ghosts, or about being challenged in life. The most well known story of this type is “Journey to the West,” which depicts the arduous journey of a small group traveling to see Buddha in order to gain enlightenment.
During my brief interactions with contemporary pingshu artists, I have come to learn more about the art as a folk tradition of telling stories. Since the mid-Qing dynasty, pingshu gradually became an important recreational tool for people to communicate information, share interests, and enjoy their glorious history. Traditional pingshu artists usually perform in teahouses or small theaters, where people can gather around on a nice afternoon.
Like calligraphy and many other Chinese traditional art forms, pingshu requires years of training. Such experience comes from a long apprenticeship with a master. An aspiring storyteller might have to perform years of basic chores, such as cooking for the family and cleaning the house. Most importantly, the artists must passionately devote time, effort, and talent to the business of attracting a permanent audience. The famous Pingshu artist Yuan, who retired several years ago, once characterized pingshu as “difficult mental and physical labor.” Not only do the artists have to memorize long passages, sometimes hundreds of thousands of words long, they also have to incorporate the origins of certain customs, the backgrounds of characters, the history and geography, and other enchanting facts about the stories they tell.
To help the artists narrate stories in a more exciting way, pingshu has also developed a few widely used stage props: a table, a folding fan, and an attention-catching wood (xingmu). It is incredible to imagine that riveting performances can be achieved using such simple objects. The performer usually stands behind the stable during the entire performance. The attention-catching wood, a rectangular piece of dark wood, is knocked against the table to start the performance and to highlight climactic moments of the story. The artist uses the folding fan to illustrate certain physical actions, such as brandishing a sword or reading a book. . . .
16th Century Thailand
The Cultured Muse 