Stein senses that the conversation is beginning to meander away from a promising path, so as a way of trying to get back to the subject of the ways of transmission of tradition, he recalls Lai’s words: that kunqu is a very ancient genre. It cannot be taught just like that but must be transmitted in a special way. How does the instruction of kunqu take place?
lai. Kunqu is passed on from generation to generation, as you very correctly noted. In the 50s, the greatest master, Chan Zibei, was still alive. All his students performed in our society. That is why the Kunqu Company of Zhejiang Province was the most renowned. The performance of Shiwu Guan and the pieces that followed were all filmed. Our activities were very highly valued.
But how did the instruction take place? How did Chan Zibei teach?
lai. In the ancient manner of transmission of tradition. Like artisans, or Chinese doctors. Look at traditional Chinese medicine. How does that work? There are medical prescriptions, or acupuncture. Your head is hurting but the needle is stuck into your leg. How do they know? There is no interconnected theory, as in Western medical science, but the accumulation of experiences which leads to an interconnection of practice. It is not possible to master Chinese medicine at a university. A master is needed, a master who knows. And this master transmits his knowledge to his students through practice, who then become masters and continue in the same way. Kunqu too can only be taught this way. A master is needed. He is the one who shows, rehearses, practices, enacts; and at the beginning, the students do nothing but imitate the master. They don’t ask any questions, they don’t read books, they don’t go to kunqu school, they don’t write papers on the theory of kunqu nor take exams in it, they only watch and imitate. After many years, their individual styles begin to emerge. The modes of performance change, of course: these change with the era, the circumstances of life, peoples’ sensibilities towards the beautiful and with the material at hand. All these changes are reflected in the history of kunqu. In the instruments of its expression. But I must say that kunqu does adhere to tradition very strictly, to the texts of the written plays, to the continuity of characteristics manifest in those works, and if the individual eras have always — as they continue to do — left their stamp upon the genre, there still remains that which never changes and never can change — the kunqu concept of space and time. Western theatrical performance is very highly respected here, but bear this in mind from your perspective. Think of Shakespeare. The action is taking place in a castle, so on the stage a castle is built. And this creates a definite idea of time and space in the mind of the spectator. But this limits the actor — in our tradition. In Chinese theatre, in particular on the kunqu stage, you won’t see any castles. The kunqu actor has to create it by his own means. He uses every instrument, every skill, every movement, every modulation of voice at his command, and the public experiences and understands that the action is, at that moment, taking place in a castle. The actor creates time and space. This is the foundation of kunqu and all Chinese theatre. We call it xuni, ‘empty mimicry’. And kunqu is the only tradition which has preserved this ancient essence. It has preserved the colours of the costumes, the regulation of the movements, the order of the gestures of expression, the symbolism of the face painting. . Let us take face painting. Why did it develop like this? And why did it develop at all? I am not a professor of kunqu, I am just a deputy director at the Kunqu Company of Zhejiang Province, but I have thought a lot about this while taking care of the theatre’s affairs. I am in charge of the lighting at our performances. And maybe it is precisely because of that — I know something about lighting — that I came to the following conclusion. In the old days, across the many centuries of kunqu, there were no spotlights. There were only flaming torches, and the performances took place by torchlight. The light of the spotlight makes it possible to see the tiniest quiver on the face of an actor. This is not possible by the light of a torch. The tradition of kunqu also took into account that, in our civilization, people always attribute definite meanings to certain colours. Look at red. Red is the colour of honour, of smouldering feelings, of passion. White is the colour of intrigue and unscrupulousness. When the kunqu actor stepped onto the stage, people immediately knew from his make-up that this was a good person, this was an evil person. This was visible by the light of the torch. Now we use spotlights but we remain loyal to our face painting. The spotlight does not change anything of the essence. Nor does it change anything about kunqu. Nor does it alter anything in the meaning of the make-up. If it changed it in any way, then we would still be performing by torchlight. .!
Do you perform exclusively old pieces here?
lai. We perform new pieces too. In a new piece, there is no longer any meaning to the make-up. You know, comrade, the conceptual abilities, aesthetic sensibilities and intellectual capacities of the people today are much more advanced. Because our predecessors lived somewhere among the mountains or in a river valley. And they never left, they never travelled, so they never knew the outside world. Things are no longer like that. People travel. The public is very well acquainted with the outside world, so their faculties of discernment are on a much higher level. So that theatre will also be different, will demand something different now. Only one thing cannot change — kunqu. I understand that theatrical performance has to change with the modern world, because people have changed, but there is one very important thing which I would like to emphasize — kunqu cannot change. It cannot become jingju[95] — the Peking Opera. Kunqu originates from Kunshan, kunqu is Kunshan opera, it cannot be anything else. Because then it will no longer be kunqu. That is my opinion.
Lai fills the cups with tea, nodding, hemming and hawing, then nodding, hemming and hawing again, then he clears his throat and looks deeply into Stein’s eyes.
lai. All of Chinese culture is facing tremendous challenges. I am in charge of this theatre, but I could also say that I am just a lighting technician at the Kunqu Company of Zhejiang Province. However, I do have an opinion, because I think about these things. And I see that it is not only traditional culture that is endangered. I believe that we do not even know now what kind of role culture can play in people’s lives. We do not know, no one knows. And there is a great need for this problem to be solved.
We here, and maybe you too, in Europe — maybe everywhere in the world — are living through a very difficult time of economic development. And this era of economic development, in my opinion, presents the gravest of problems for national culture. What happened in Japan after the Second World War? Kabuki went through a very sad epoch, as well as noh. Later on, standards of living improved in Japan and the sense of responsibility towards their national culture arose in them. So there is hope that this will happen with us as well. Right now, it is truly difficult. Today, we do not know how to grant status to culture. For kunqu, this is the most difficult of times. You know, Comrade László, I do not say that there is no hope. Culture in Japan has thrived, and now a ticket for a performance of kabuki or noh is very expensive. A kabuki piece can run for weeks and months. That could happen here as well. But we must be aware of one thing — kunqu will never be a theatre for the masses. Kunqu was always for the few, for the erudite. Now, and perhaps never again, can we wish for young people to come flooding into the kunqu theatre. They envisage entertainment as something and someplace else. This is fine, we cannot deny them this. But we can expect one thing from them — not to deny the culture of their ancestors. At least a few of them.