Peacock Theatre, London
October 13, 2016
Charlotte Kasner
Although only 50 years old, the China National Peking Opera Company (中國國家京劇院) taps into a tradition dating from the first three centuries of the common era. The General and the Prime Minister (將相和) is based on historical accounts of the Warring States period of ancient China. It’s a story of trickery, power and political survival, and really is terrifically exciting stuff. For once, the designation ‘spectacular’ is not misplaced.
The tale is set after Qin conquered the final warring state in 221BC, completing the unification of China. The opera opens with the old general being praised for his previous military victories, although threats are still being issued from the rival state whose ruler declares that, if he receives a priceless rare piece of jade, he will surrender 15 kingdoms in exchange. Suspecting a plot, a cunning minister volunteers to travel to the rival court with the jade. Using his cunning, he manages to outwit everyone and return with the jade.
In gratitude, the king promotes the minister to prime minister, angering the jealous general, who is a true marvel. Think Brian Blessed in a really fancy frock. Larger than life (with some judicious padding) he has a booming voice that can fair raise the rafters. His progress on stage is like a war galleon in full sail. The reedy new prime minister in contrast bends and bows in the blast of his personality but remains steadfast and strong, the flaps on his headdress bouncing up and down like beagles’ leathers in a headwind.
The general thwarts the prime minister’s progress, including blocking his route to a celebratory banquet three times. The minister backs down for fear of making the state vulnerable to conquer and division, convincing the general (who thought the minister’s success was pure luck) that he has succeeded in frightening him.
All is resolved when a senior minister convinces the general that the prime minister is truly brave and clever but subsumed his personal feelings for the sake of the state and refused to rise to the general’s challenge. The pair finally reconcile when the prime minister accepts a declaration from the general that he should henceforth be his teacher and asks the general in turn to be his mentor.
Apart from there is also a marvellous cameo performance from the old servant who could have come straight out of Plautus or commedia dell’Arte. Bent into a letter ‘C’, he shuffles on and off stage and at one point, does a splendid double take that is worthy of a Tom and Jerry cartoon, complete with xylophone sound effects.
A brief look at the art of Chinese Opera
There are various regional forms of Chinese opera which combines dance, drama and movement on simplistic staging but with sumptuous costumes. There are elements that resemble Noh, Kabuki, Greek and Roman drama, Commedia dell’ Arte and 18th-century English pantomime. There are stock characters and, like a delicious mille feuille, layer upon layer of symbolism expressed in costume, make up, vocalisation and gesture. The People’s Republic promoted the art form between 1949–1966 including encouraging the development of contemporary subjects, until the Cultural Revolution when opera artists were among the cultural workers and many others who were persecuted. Following the downfall of the Gang of Four in 1976, Peking Opera enjoyed a revival in theatres and on television. More than thirty famous forms of Chinese opera continue to be performed, usually in specialist theatres.
The masks and face painting used throughout are based on the ancient face painting tradition of warriors decorating themselves to scare the enemy. Each colour has a different meaning, symbolising the character’s type, fate and emotional state. The area of face covered by paint is also significant. White symbolises evil; the larger the painted area, the crueller the character. Red symbolises bravery or loyalty, pink rationality etc.
Beards signify wealth and temperament; a long beard indicates wealth and power and narrow whiskers learned men. A short, thick beard covering most of a lover‘s face symbolises selfishness.
Characters are denoted by specific costumes. Emperors and important officials wear a loose long robe with a round neck and side slits that enable it to swing and create an air of importance. This is emphasised by their stylised walk. It is worn with a loose jade belt. The female version is cut to the knee and worn with a narrow skirt. Higher officials wear a silk or satin robe buttoned on one side. Women and peasant warriors wear pants, with short jackets that are tied at the waist with various accessories.
Movement is refined and expected to be beautiful. Set conventions signal particular actions to the audience such as walking in a large circle to symbolise travelling a long distance or prefacing a speech by an important character by straightening a costume, headdress or beard. Peking opera is characterised by a roundness in the movement. Operas also include tumbling and acrobatics as pure entertainment.
Stages are traditionally square platforms with action visible from at least three sides, similar to Elizabethan stages, with an embroidered curtain creating a divide and musicians visible at the front. Tables and chairs are used to represent other objects such as walls or topographical features. Props are minimal but, for example, a horse hair whip is used to indicate a riding and an oar symbolises a boat. As with Elizabethan pits, the audience were traditionally below the line of the stage but modern theatres may have more conventional seating.