During the long national holiday, a big top appeared on the empty lot in Chaoyang Park, surrounded by cages and crates of stage props. The circus had come to town. Elephants, lions, tigers, bears and horses promised an old-fashioned extravaganza. Traditional Chinese acrobats and, of course, clowns, completed the cast. Billed as the largest circus the city had ever seen, the event was meant to bring back the fun and amazement that many people remembered from their childhood.
But the circus faces stiff competition from other popular forms of entertainment these days.
I went to the show one evening and applauded, along with everyone else, after some finely executed performances. Two women - a youthful-looking mother and her lovely daughter - lying on their backs, twirled parasols with their feet in a dazzling display of shapes and colours. The trapeze artists proved to be masters of daring, timing their acrobatics to perfection, while the clowns amused everyone with their antics.
A father and his 12-year-old son told me that last year, they had been mesmerised by the illusionist David Copperfield, and felt that something was missing from the traditional Chinese circus. I shared their sense of disappointment. China has close to 1,000 acrobatic troupes, mostly supported by local governments, which are increasingly reluctant to continue their subsidies. As a result, many depend on overseas tours to keep going. It is ironic that Chinese acrobats receive high acclaim abroad, but fail to please their home audience.
Like many dying forms of folk art, the Chinese circus may become endangered. The exoticism that sells abroad falls flat at home.
The organisers said they barely recovered the soaring costs of rent, insurance and food for the animals from ticket sales, leaving no extra money for improvements to lighting, stage design and the like.