Cantonese Opera
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The golden age of gender-bending at M+, Hong Kong
High quality global journalism requires investment. Please share this article with others using the link below, do not cut & paste the article. See our T&Cs and Copyright Policy for more detail. Email ftsales.support@ft.com to buy additional rights. https://www.ft.com/content/d1629e9a-0fb3-11e7-a88c-50ba212dce4d Although not slated to open until 2019, M+, Hong Kong’s museum of visual culture, has just unveiled its second exhibition. Entitled Ambiguously Yours: Gender in Hong Kong Popular Culture, it is housed in a purpose-built pavilion in the middle of the 40-hectare waterfront construction site on which the West Kowloon Cultural District — of which M+ is but a small part — is slowly rising. Sample the FT’s top stories for a week You select the topic, we deliver the news. Select topic Enter email addressInvalid email Sign up By signing up you confirm that you have read and agree to the terms and conditions, cookie policy and privacy policy. The exhibition brings together 90 works dating from the 1960s to 2016. Its chief focus, however, is the 1980s and 1990s, a moment when popular Hong Kong culture blossomed into daring new expressions of creativity. Gender was at the heart of this ferment as musicians, singers, film-makers and photographers started to play with boundaries in innovative ways. The show opens with vitrines of costumes whose ornate extravagance recalls the sculptural creations of the late British fashion designer Alexander McQueen. Most spectacular is a gown of peacock plumes that spills across the floor in a jewel-bright pool. The dress was designed by Kenneth Chan for the farewell concert of Roman Tam, a legendary Cantopop singer who died in 2002. With roots in both Cantonese opera and western pop, Cantopop’s innate hybridity mirrors the gender-fluid identities of singers such as Tam. Costume designed by Kenneth Chan for the farewell concert of Roman Tam This experimental mood spilled into Hong Kong’s film industry, which, by the start of the 1990s, was the third largest in the world. Such stable financial foundations may have been what gave young film-makers the confidence to experiment with new aesthetics and techniques. From playing with notions of time, space and linear narrative, it was a natural progression to start questioning notions of sexual identity. A sequence of film clips here includes scenes from Rouge, Stanley Kwan’s 1988 ghostly romance that finds its heroine dressed as a boy singer in a restaurant. Similarly, in Peter Chan’s 1994 romantic comedy He’s a Woman She’s a Man, Anita Yuen, playing an ambitious young singer, also disguises herself as a man in order to get closer to her idols. And in a suite of photographs is a still from Yonfan’s 2001 Peony Pavilion, an exquisitely languid film about a 1930s opera singer who bonds with her husband’s female cross-dressing cousin. Lush, poetic, basking in a whimsical innocence unthinkable in our more knowing age, what these films have in common is a pictorial elegance that rescues them from sentimentality, voyeurism and cliché. Little wonder that this show is proving popular. “People come up to me and say ‘This work is in my heart’,” says Suhanya Raffel, executive director of M+. “It’s very nostalgic for people.” Raffel expects to see at least 10,000 visitors before the show closes in May. That figure, she says, is similar to the number who came to the pavilion’s second exhibition, Shifting Objectives, which opened in November last year. Nevertheless, anyone unfamiliar with the pavilion’s location may have trouble tracking it down on the far side of a busy road junction from Kowloon subway station. With taxi drivers unfamiliar with the name M+ — at least in English — and the pavilion’s surreal situation in the middle of West Kowloon Cultural District’s vast construction site, it is a true test of art lovers’ commitment to their cause. As for the M+ museum itself, Raffel is confident that it will have a crucial role to play in Hong Kong’s buoyant visual arts scene. “M+ matters,” she tells me. With 6,000 works already in its collection, approximately 26 per cent of which hail from Hong Kong, including donations by leading collectors of Chinese contemporary art such as Uli Sigg and Guan Yi, M+ has the wherewithal to provide a scholarly foundation for contemporary art here. “We’re building a new canon,” says Raffel. To May 31, westkowloon.hk/en/mplus Copyright The Financial Times Limited 2017. All rights reserved. You may share using our article tools. Please don't cut articles from FT.com and redistribute by email or post to the web.
The youths out to save Hong Kong's unique opera
It is a centuries-old art form and a unique part of Hong Kong's identity but many people fear that Cantonese opera could die out if it doesn't reinvent itself. The BBC's Helier Cheung delves into a dramatic world of make-up, martial arts and vocal acrobatics. Mitchie Choi expected to learn martial arts and operatic singing, but not how to act like a man, when she decided to commit to Cantonese opera. The 22-year-old had just finished a linguistics degree . "When I started learning Chinese opera, obviously I wanted to [play] a female role." But her tutors told her she was more suited to playing male roles because of her height and deep voice. Now, she says, she loves performing as a male character, and can't imagine doing anything differently. But the training is tough and the future rewards of this career path are unclear. "We have to be on our feet most of the time, we're working 9-6 every day, [on] acrobatics, combat movements. We have to do the splits...and singing lessons as well," she says. Media captionMitchie Choi explains why she loves Cantonese Opera - and acting as a man Cantonese Opera, a type of Xiqu (Chinese Opera) developed in southern China, is loved by many in Hong Kong - especially the elderly. Yet many fear it could become endangered as it struggles to engage younger audiences. Although there are more than 1,000 Cantonese opera performances in Hong Kong each year, "you can argue that the majority of the audience are old or retired people", says Leung Bo Wah, a professor of Cultural and Creative Arts at the Hong Kong Institute of Education. Attracting new performers is difficult because in a practical, almost utilitarian society such as Hong Kong's, young people think this is a hard way to earn a living. But, Mr Leung says, it is one of the art forms that best represent local Hong Kong culture, almost part of its very identity. People "feel this is our own kind of art form" because it uses Cantonese, the language spoken in southern China. A quick guide to Cantonese opera Two Cantonese opera performers backstage in Hong Kong, 21 February 2015 Performers are trained in four skills: singing, acting, speaking and martial arts. Initially performed in rural ceremonial rituals and folk festival celebrations. Main character types include: the male lead, the warrior, the clown and the female lead. Origins can be traced back more than 300 years. Used to be performed in bamboo theatres - temporary structures built with bamboos and cloths, with few props. Now often also performed in theatres. Ms Choi readily admits she is in a minority, she knows the art form is considered "very old and boring" by people her age. Her fellow student Ho Jun Hei, a 20-year-old training as a flautist in Cantonese opera, says that part of the problem is that many young people simply aren't exposed to Cantonese opera any more. The pair are among very few studying for a bachelor of fine arts in Cantonese opera, a degree programme launched in 2013 at the Academy of Performing Arts as part of efforts to preserve the art form. It has been billed by the academy as the first Cantonese opera degree in Hong Kong, and possibly the world. Liang Yanfei backstage in Hong Kong, ahead of her performance in Submission of The Impeachment of Yan Song, 21 February 2015 Image caption Heavy headgear and elaborate costumes are all part of the performance There are those who passionately argue for the beauty of the art form. "Cantonese opera is really a treasure, a beautiful Chinese heritage [that is] very special in Hong Kong," says Frederic Mao, a theatre director who chairs the Chinese Opera school. He points out that unlike other forms of Chinese opera, it has been able to develop uninterrupted for decades. During the 1966-1976 Cultural Revolution in mainland China, most forms of art and entertainment were banned, including traditional Beijing opera, and performances of Western films. However, Cantonese opera was able to continue in Hong Kong, which was a British colony at the time, and has been "preserved and performed until today". Backstage staff sort out costumes before a performance at the West Kowloon Bamboo Theatre, a 800-seat temporary theatre to house a series of Cantonese opera shows, in Hong Kong on February 4, 2014Image copyrightAFP Image caption Cantonese opera was traditionally performed in temporary bamboo theatres The art form got a boost in 2009, when it was recognised by the UN's arts body as an "intangible cultural heritage". In its listing, Unesco said the art form had developed "a rich repertoire of stories", and also "provides a cultural bond among Cantonese speakers in [China] and abroad". Hong Kong's government is also attempting to boost Cantonese opera in Hong Kong, building a large Xiqu theatre in a huge arts hub set to open in 2017. The last Sunday of each November has also been designated Cantonese Opera Day by authorities in Guangdong, Macau and Hong Kong. But ultimately, the future of Cantonese opera will depend less on official efforts, and more on the ability of the performers to adapt the art for younger generations. Media caption'You need to sing, to act, to fight' "Aside from telling people how precious it is... we have to produce the type of work that audiences will appreciate, and be interested in by themselves," Mr Mao says. For example, the percussion in many traditional Cantonese opera performances is loud - something younger audiences find off-putting - so some theatre groups have started to adjust the sound levels. "It's not easy to preserve Cantonese opera. On the other hand, it's exciting to bring it up to date. The art form is old, but hopefully... we can bring in some new ideas." Ho Jun Hei at the Academy for Performing Arts Image caption Flutist Ho Jun Hei enjoys the complex scripts and the musical flourishes of Cantonese opera Frederic Mao at the Academy for Performing Arts Image caption Frederic Mao says Cantonese opera needs to reinvent itself to stay relevant Ms Choi and Ho Jun Hei are young and committed to rejuvenating the art. Their enthusiasm, undoubtedly, would be music to the ears of many who love Cantonese opera.
Dilemma of Cantonese Opera in vanishing tea houses
On a warm and humid spring day in Southern China's Guangzhou, a routine performance of the Yueju Opera is staged at the Tongle Restaurant - the only surviving tea house devoted to the traditional performing art form in the capital city of Guangdong province. When the play reached its climax, some audience members approached the stage and placed tips on the music stand before returning to their seats to continue watching. Tea houses are the hotbed of time-horned Yueju Opera, or Cantonese Opera, which is rooted in the Cantonese-speaking provinces of Guangdong and Guangxi, combining Mandarin operatic traditions and the Cantonese dialect. It's renowned for its bold, emotional, and exaggerated expressions, accompanied by Chinese martial arts. Over the centuries, it has developed a rich repertoire of stories ranging from historical epics to descriptions of daily life. In 2009, it was inscribed on the Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity by UNESCO. But in modern times, the traditional opera is facing a dilemma in trying to revive its popularity. According to local media reports, there were over 60 tea houses in Guangzhou during its peak time in the 1980-90s. But nowadays, the Tongle Restaurant is the only one of its kind. "When senior performers retire, Yueju Opera tea houses may vanish. So I came today to learn about the show (before it's too late)," an unnamed 24-year-old visitor told Guangzhou Daily after a show. The gradual vanishing of such tea houses is a result of market choice, according to the Guangzhou-based newspaper, New Express. "In the past, these tea houses could bring profits to business owners due to its attractiveness to the general public. But now the main audiences are senior citizens, " a local business man surnamed Chen told the New Express. As the opera is losing its charm for young people, many tea houses have opted to cancelling the shows, Chen said. As in many other forms of traditional opera, the future of Yueju Opera faces problems that include a loss of public appeal, budget pressures and talent shortages.
Knowledge Graph
Examples
1 A Cantonese opera production revolving around the private life of late Chinese communist leader Mao Zedong will premiere in Hong Kong
2 Seven emerging young Cantonese opera artists will perform at the Ko Shan Theatre New Wing at the Rising Stars of Cantonese Opera show from August 12 to 17, a programme initiated by the West Kowloon Cultural District Authority.
3 Sunbeam Theatre, one of the last few dedicated Cantonese Opera houses in Hong Kong, is facing criticism over an upcoming original production that deals with some aspects of Mao Zedong’s life.