IN THE ELEGANT, refined circles of Kunqu opera, Tian Qinxin counts as a revolutionary. Firstly, she's a woman, and although women may act in China's oldest form of opera, they're not expected to direct. Secondly, Tian is a relative youngster. 'I love Kunqu, but I'm not old enough to direct it,' says the burly, award-winning theatre director. 'I'm in my 30s. Here, that's not old enough.' Thirdly, she's a rising star at the National Theatre in Beijing, meaning she's not a true-blue opera expert.
It's little wonder then that the country's 61/2 Kunqu opera troupes (one does other kinds of performances, too) and its 1,000 actors are abuzz. Yet Tian's first venture has been a huge success, and may open the door to a wider audience for this 600-year-old opera form.
Tian's production of the 1699 classic Peach Blossom Fan, written by Confucius descendent and (ultimately disgraced) scholar Kong Shangren, played to full houses in Beijing at the recent Music Festival. It will play as part of the Hong Kong Arts Festival on February 24 and 25.
At a recent performance in Peking University, the audience enjoyed the skilful singing and acting by a troupe from Jiangsu Province Kunqu Opera company, admired the innovative stage design by New Yorker Lea Xiao, and hummed along to the music played by an orchestra that was visible at the back of the stage behind a giant painting forming the backdrop on three sides.
Peach Blossom Fan tells the story of two lovers, scholar Hou Fangyu and courtesan Li Xiangjun, who meet and pledge undying fidelity in the mid-17th century, as the Ming dynasty falls to ruin around them. Jealous and meddling court schemers try to destroy the couple's love. Hou and Li subsequently lose each other in the chaos of dynastic change, and the play has a bittersweet ending. It has long been read as an allegory of national disaster.
In an unusual move, Tian brought the actors onto the stage just before each was due to make their entrance, seating them in ox-yoke chairs lined up along a corridor that runs the length of the three-sided stage. This created a unified, intimate atmosphere, with the audience able to watch the actors out of role.
'I really love the effect in western theatre when the actors and audience are close,' Tian says. 'But I didn't want it to be too crude and I wanted to find a way to do it subtly. I love things to be open and not hidden away.'