Traditional Dramas
Their general popularity notwithstanding, wartime historical plays remained largely an urban phenomenon, particularly in interior cities such as Chongqing, Changsha, and Guilin.[133] The plays' length, big
cast, elaborate props, and drawn-out preparation all made their performance difficult in the countryside. So what kind of impact did they have on rural audiences? Perhaps very little. In another attempt to bring patriotism to the villages, therefore, wartime dramatists turned to a familiar performing art for help—traditional drama.
The inclusion of traditional drama in the resistance arsenal was not without controversy. A series of questions had already been raised by drama activists and government officials in the early phase of the war: Could such popular traditional dramas as Beijing opera or other regional plays, which appealed equally to urbanites and villagers alike, be used in service of the war cause? Or were they too archaic to be of use in this critical time? If so, could they be reformed to channel patriotic messages to rural audiences? In other words, could new material be put into old forms—a process known as "filling old bottles with new wine" (jiuping zhuang xinjiu) ?
As in the earlier May Fourth debate, heated exchanges over the nature and usefulness of this dramatic form were kindled among intellectuals and artists during the war. For some, including Xiong Foxi, the highly unrealistic nature of Chinese traditional drama, with its structured staging and minimal emphasis on credibility, seriously limited its usefulness as a political and educational tool.[134] As the writer Ding Ling (1904–1986) pointed out, the extreme symbolism of Beijing opera made it ineffective for propagating the resistance cause—though that did not rule out the possibility that it could be changed.[135] Xiang Peiliang disagreed. He argued that traditional Chinese theater remained remarkably persistent in its forms and content. Its formulaic plots, controlled gestures, and standardized staging all made fundamental change difficult.[136] According to Xiong Foxi, form and content were mutually dependent, such that changing the content would immediately affect the form. Xiong, an enthusiastic advocate of new dramatic forms, maintained that the simple forms of traditional drama could "hardly express the spirit of the time and can never satisfy the psychological needs of the audience."[137]
But Tian Han, Hong Shen, and Ouyang Yuqian demurred. Although Tian Han was a pivotal figure in the Chinese spoken drama movement, he never abandoned traditional theater. He saw the two as distinct artistic forms that not only could coexist but also were of complementary value in China's propaganda war against the Japanese. By the early 1930s Tian had turned his back on his sentimental past, represented by such pieces as Night Talk in Suzhou (1927), and embraced the Communist cause. As the war progressed, he looked at
the traditional theater with ever greater interest. Tian disputed Xiong Foxi's analogy of form and content, arguing that one could change the content without affecting the form. He believed that breathing new life into traditional drama was necessary and timely. To Tian and his friend Hong Shen, classical Chinese theater was more than an entertaining art; it was a rich treasure that could not be overlooked. Traditional theater was a popular art in which dance, song, and mime were meticulously blended to produce an expressive, rhythmic effect; most important, its plots were familiar to the common people. In sum, the classical theater provided an ideal social setting for spreading patriotic news.[138] During the war, Tian Han wrote and revised more than ten Beijing operas, including such famous pieces as Yangzi Fishermen's Songs (Jiang Han yuge, 1937), which portrayed the cooperation between the Song government and fishermen along the Yangzi River in their struggle against the invading Jin. In addition to patriotic language, most of the revamped plays resorted to classical allegory, harshly criticizing official corruption and ineffectual government.
Like Tian Han, Ouyang Yuqian was also a noted reformer of traditional opera. Despite such problems as inflexible rules and obsolete ideas in traditional dramas, Ouyang argued, with patience and ingenuity the medium could be transformed and resuscitated to meet present needs.[139] "[No one can deny that] there are excellent techniques and performing styles [in classical dramas]. Why can't we retain the valuable parts and put them to good use?"[140] Ouyang's position as director of the Guangdong Drama Institute (Guangdong xiju yanjiusuo) in 1929 and of the Guangxi Provincial Institute of Art (Guangxi shengli yishuguan) in 1939 provided him with a unique opportunity to launch drama reform in both provinces.[141] He added scenes, used curtains, installed lights, and even modified costumes to give plays a new look. "Adaptation," he wrote, "does not mean adding a word here or there; it is a thorough rewriting of the old pieces under new rules and in new formats."[142]
One common charge leveled against traditional dramas was that there were too many "feudalistic elements," a criticism that Ouyang Yuqian did not deny.[143] One such "poisonous weed," popular since the Qing dynasty, was Silang Visits His Mother (Silang tan mu), about a young Chinese Han general named Yang Silang who is taken captive by the invading barbarians. Though he is imprisoned, his talent impresses the empress dowager so much that she decides to give him her daughter in marriage. The rest of the play revolves around Silang's dangerous attempts to arrange a meeting with his mother, who is now
leading a new campaign against the same barbarians. While traditional theatergoers were mostly intrigued by the spectacular casting of this Beijing opera (it has nine principal and four supporting roles), patriots in wartime China felt extremely uncomfortable about the theme of the play: the submission of a Chinese general to a barbarian state. The play was filled with what many called "a traitor's mentality."[144] Subsequently this play, together with others judged obscene or superstitious, was banned by the GMD government.[145]
True, playwright Ma Yanxiang admitted, there were unacceptable pieces like Silang Visits His Mother, and traditional plays abounded in emperors, kings, and talented scholars engaged in amorous intrigues, themes far removed from contemporary life; but to condemn traditional opera outright as feudal, obsolete, and unworthy of attention was to ignore the value of this rich genre. Ma argued that traditional dramas had not remained static. Like other forms, they had responded to change. Moreover, there was no dearth of plays in the traditional repertoire that expounded new ideas and endorsed progressive thoughts—plays such as The Rebellion (Fan wuguan), about soldiers who rebel against a tyrannical ruler, and A Nun Seeks Worldly Pleasure (Sifan xiashan), which portrays young nuns who free themselves from the cloistered life imposed on them by their parents.[146] Another notable example was The Fisherman's Revenge (Dayu shajia; also known as Demanding the Fishing Tax).[ 147] Popular since the mid-nineteenth century, this Beijing opera tells the story of a widowed man who, after abandoning the life of an outlaw, leads a simple life as a fisherman. Harassed by an insolent tax collector sent by a local landlord, and later unjustly flogged by the local magistrate when he files a complaint against the landlord, the old fisherman decides to take justice into his own hands. With the help of his daughter, he kills the landlord and his subordinates; together the old man and his daughter sail safely into the night to resume the life of outlaws. The Fisherman's Revenge is a powerful drama pitting the oppressed against the oppressors, fishermen against landlords, justice against inequity. The old man is certainly no heartless avenger: he is a righter of wrongs. Instead of succumbing to corrupt social and political forces, he retaliates and emerges triumphant. To many wartime dramatists this play was a potent reminder of the ongoing struggle between two opposing forces, promising that a bright future might lie not too far ahead. It was with such plays in mind that Ma Yanxiang called for a more objective and comprehensive evaluation of the traditional drama repertoire.[148]
Understanding that traditional operas could be turned into timely
political tools, the GMD government also became involved in the reform campaign. In 1939, under the supervision of the Ministry of Education, a newly created Textbook Editorial Committee began to draw up plans for revising traditional operas. Several years later it issued a series of forty-eight revised Beijing operas whose values were deemed congruous with "the pulse of the time."[149] Nevertheless, the GMD effort seemed halfhearted, limited, and uncoordinated. In the end, the government's preoccupation with military and financial affairs left this crucial area of cultural propaganda almost entirely in the hands of the Communists and their sympathizers. Indeed, the insufficient attention paid by the Nationalists to cultural propaganda overall proved costly for them in their battle against the Communists.
It was in fact left-wing intellectuals like Tian Han, not government officials, who played the most critical role in reforming traditional drama. Tian Han found classical plays, especially regional ones, ideal for promoting interaction with rural audiences. Because of their enduring popularity, long tradition, and rich variety, regional dramas already commanded a huge and loyal following in various localities in China. Tian Han thus urged that the genre be upgraded and promoted.[150] In August 1938, Tian launched the famous Wartime Dramatist Class in Hankou (Liu Han geju yanyuan zhanshi jiangxiban). The program involved seven hundred men and women, including performers from such diverse dramatic forms as Beijing opera, Chu opera (Chuju, popular in Hubei and Jiangxi), and Han opera (Hanju, popular in Hubei and parts of Henan, Shaanxi, and Hunan), drum singers, and so on.[151] The lecture class provided a rare opportunity for traditional actors to gather together and learn from each other, as well as to keep abreast of current developments in China.[152] Later that year in Changsha, Tian Han initiated a similar program, in which some two hundred traditional opera actors were involved.[153] Under the call of resistance, various regional opera propaganda teams were formed, including the Beijing Opera Propaganda Troupe (Pingju xuanchuandui) and the Hunan Opera Propaganda Troupe (Xiangju xuanchuandui). These troupes, like spoken drama traveling teams, provided the drama movement with a greater degree of flexibility and mobility in the interior that it had otherwise not enjoyed.
Tian Han's programs were widely hailed for generating an unprecedented spirit of cooperation among a wide variety of performers and providing, in one critic's words, an opportunity for traditional actors to be "reeducated."[154] Others concurred, saying that traditional actors had gained a much-needed psychological boost, for they now realized
that their contributions to the war effort were just as crucial as those of any other patriotic Chinese.[155] The drama reformers encouraged actors from the traditional theater to engage in a dialogue with their counterparts in spoken drama, to lessen mutual suspicion and to learn from one another. The inclusion of traditional artists in the cultural campaign against the enemy underscored the concept of unity. Instead of being buried, an old tradition was unearthed and revived for a pressing cause. The leitmotif of the traditional drama revival movement could now be discerned: national pride and cohesion.
During the war, Chu opera and Han opera were but two of the many regional dramas that underwent reform. Cantonese opera was another notable example that changed and as a result thrived anew. The famed Cantonese opera playwright Jiang Feng (Nanhai Shisanlang) leapt to the resistance cause, creating such new pieces as Wu Sangui and Zheng Chenggong, in which he ridiculed traitors and glorified patriots, respectively. Many actors heeded the call as well, Guan Dexing (stage name Xin Liangjiu) being perhaps the foremost representative. A well-known wusheng (military role) actor and a fervent patriot, Guan formed the Cantonese Opera Salvation Corps (Yueju jiuwang fuwutuan) during the war. He staged numerous performances in Guangxi, Hunan, and Guangdong, and traveled as far as Hong Kong, San Francisco, and the Philippines to raise large sums of money for war refugees. His acts won high acclaim in the drama world. "A truly remarkable man!" praised Ouyang Yuqian.[156]
Like the spoken drama traveling troupes, traditional opera actors carried their craft to the grass-roots level, which Ma Yanxiang considered crucial for reinvigorating the old performing art and keeping it in touch with the people.[157] The style and presentation of reformed traditional operas, in contrast to historical plays, were familiar to rural audiences, thus more accessible to them. And the fact that this endeavor relied heavily on preexisting regional opera troupes enhanced their chances of success among the villagers. But how effective were the reformed plays in actually speaking to the rural masses? The scattered data do indicate that they were popular among village audiences.[158] One report from a village in Zhejiang province gave this eyewitness account: "It is true that villagers are not very used to spoken dramas; but they all enjoy tremendously Beijing operas and other regional theater…. Based on this belief, we staged a play in Beijing opera style…. Its popularity even surpassed that of Lay Down Your Whip! "[159] Nevertheless, the limited number of regional troupes and actors suggests that whatever impact reformed dramas did
have in the countryside during the war, it was not very great. Tian Han's traditional drama classes in Hankou and Changsha never involved more than a few hundred opera actors. And evidence shows that their activities (Guan Dexing's included) remained confined largely to small cities and towns in the interior.[160]
Limited influence in the rural area notwithstanding, the politicization and popularization of traditional dramas was a novel phenomenon during the war. The classical theater was no longer an entertainment filled with "decadent ideas and obsolete morality," one drama critic argued; rather, the war turned this old performing art into a noble vehicle for "national salvation."[161]
Unlike their May Fourth counterparts of twenty years earlier who took an iconoclastic stand against almost every aspect of traditional culture, repudiating it as worthless and harmful, wartime dramatists adopted a more moderate approach to the legacy of the past. To them, tradition was a potent defense against foreign invasion, and classical cultural forms were valuable assets. Ouyang Yuqian and Tian Han, while thoroughly modern in their outlook, plunged deep into the past in their search for solutions. They saw traditional drama not simply as an art form, but as an integral component of China's heritage, one that had now assumed a new political outlook and patriotic tone. Their attempt to rescue the traditional drama thus represented a search for an acceptable nationalist form (minzu xingshi) of art in a country under attack. "We must not let such a popular art form as traditional drama be separated from our resistance efforts," Ouyang Yuqian pleaded.[162]
This revival of traditional operas and the interest in historical plays were driven by Chinese playwrights' quest for a new meaning for their besieged culture. Their journey into the past was an intellectual as well as a sentimental one. Not only did these dramas affirm the present by reinforcing a sense of collective pride, but they also served as unparalleled psychological and intellectual defense against the invaders. Hua Mulan's devotion to her nation and Liang Hongyu's courage on the battlefield touched audiences far and wide. These historical heroines, reincarnated in the present, beckoned to their compatriots to join them.
As they did with spoken plays, Chinese playwrights politicized traditional dramas, writing on themes closely related to the everyday perils of the current war. The reform of traditional dramas was thus of more than nostalgic interest; it went beyond the intent of preserving China's heritage. It was a move of necessity to help keep patriotic
sentiments alive among the populace. Still, the politicization of Chinese traditional dramas, like that of the street play, also made many productions artistically inferior. Yet that was a price many dramatists seemed willing to pay as long as it served the war cause.
From the start, wartime dramatists were keenly aware of the potential of spoken and traditional drama as a forceful tool of nationalism. To be politically effective in addressing the populace, however, they realized that their messages had to be both familiar and simple. Popularization thus lay at the heart of the drama resistance campaign. Abstract ideas such as "national salvation" (jiuwang) had to be translated into everyday language, and concepts of resistance would have little impact unless they were rendered into easily identifiable symbols like that of Hua Mulan. To popularize is to concretize and personalize the experience; all who saw Lay Down Your Whip certainly felt the poignancy and injustice of the ordeal suffered by Fragrance and her father as if at firsthand. Even though street plays, historical dramas, and traditional theater were different in artistic legacy and dramatic technique, and granted that their impact varied depending on their venue, whether urban or rural, several common threads linked them together: the popularization, politicization, and dissemination of the drama.