IN THE ROYAL Garden Hotel penthouse, 12 svelte, twenty-something girls are squeezed onto a king-size bed, patiently holding poses as the photographer arranges the shot. Some flick their long, lustrous brown hair, and others bat their eyelashes as the camera flash engulfs the room in a blaze of shimmering lip-gloss. It should be a lovely sight too - if only the smiles didn't evaporate immediately afterwards. Most of them suddenly look like they're about to burst into tears.
It has been a very long week for Nancy, Stephanie, Bobo, Vivien, Gabel, Zena, Stella, Janet, Tina, Maggie, Geany and Elven, having been followed incessantly by a film crew for countless meet'n'greets with the press. The 12 Girls Band, a Chinese classical music sensation now nearly two years in the making, need a break.
An expansion of the formula first hit on by those hen-night classicists Bond, the difference is that the 12 Girls Band perform updated Chinese classics using traditional instruments such as the erhu, pipa and guzheng. And, of course, they're Chinese. 'You couldn't get two more opposite representations,' says Qingdao-born flautist Stella Sun Yuan when I attempt to compare the band with their brash western counterparts, who once posed naked for a magazine shoot. 'Firstly, they represent a western perspective, whereas we're updating Chinese traditional music,' she says. 'Bond are a very popular group - but while there are many good things to learn from them, we don't want to be them.'
Another key difference is that, whereas Bond were friends who'd met after years performing as session musicians for the likes of Primal Scream, The Spice Girls and Talvin Singh, the members of the 12 Girls Band were selected from 200 hopefuls who descended on Beijing for intensive auditioning in 2001. The criteria were simple - beauty and musical talent had to be offered in equal measure. And, of course, youth. The girls are aged between 23 and 25.
They might all be classically trained musicians, but a non-stop touring schedule has meant they have been living life in one giant pop-star bubble. The commotion that follows in their wake is a little like witnessing a beauty pageant - albeit one with brains. 'We haven't had a day off in the past 18 months,' sighs a defeated-looking Vivien Zhou Jiannan, who plays the guzheng. She bravely attempts a smile, but you can't help but think that she'd rather be anywhere but here. 'But life together is very colourful.'
The idea behind the group apparently dates back to a concept from the Tang dynasty's court musical workshops. The notion of having 12 performers on stage not only provides a spot of eye candy, but also strikes a chord in the connotations of integrity and perfection the number has in Chinese.