Opera Feng Yi Ting at Spoleto, South Carolina

Chinese Opera

Kung Fu and Feng Yi Ting

Western audiences may not be intimately familiar with the sights, sounds and conventions of Chinese opera. However, as the American premier of renowned composer Guo Wenjing's Feng Yi Ting at this spring's Spoleto Festival reveals, many of the themes will be recognizable to experienced theatre-goers. A story steeped both in true Chinese history and in the mythology of its dynastic heritage, Feng Yi Ting combines the traditional love-triangle intrigue often seen in western operatic theatre with pointedly Chinese instrumental flourishes, vocal stylings and cultural references. In addition to the familiarity of such themes, western audiences may have some sense of context for the broader imperial implications symbolized by the struggle between the two male protagonists. Certainly, my own interaction with Chinese culture, largely channeled through my childhood love for vintage kung fu theatre and cinema, would demonstrate the recurrence of themes such as internal familial rivalry, female treachery and their far-reaching impact on whole kingdoms.

Perhaps this mix of both the familiar and the culturally enlightening is at the root of the opera's considerable critical appeal. Charleston, South Carolina's annual 17 day Spoleto Festival, which celebrates the arts both in a local and international capacity, has received praise for its inclusion of Wenjing's work. According to Moore (2012) "while providing performances of the highest caliber, Spoleto Festival USA maintains a dedication to young artists, a commitment to all forms of the performing arts, a passion for contemporary innovation, and an enthusiasm for providing unusual performance opportunities for established artists." (Moore, p. 1)

Quite certainly, Feng Yi Ting qualifies as an unusual performance, at least to the present audience. Wenjing ably conjures the look and feel of courtly life during the great Han Dynasty but held up against a sonic backdrop that betrays decidedly western and contemporary classical conceits. These more traditional operate arrangements were, however, punctuated by the inclusion of Chinese instruments such as the pipa and erhu. (Giovetti, p. 1)

In addition, the sometimes shrill but always animated vocalists provided a texture that was both undeniably Chinese in its tonality but also pointedly distinct from the operatic traditions to which western audiences are more generally accustomed.

Still, as with any given kung fu movie made somewhat distracting by its halting dialogue or awkwardly phrased subtitles, the tension, intrigue, violence and sexuality tend to convey otherwise universal feelings. So denotes the promotional website for the Spoleto Festival. The festival's producers describe "an empire at stake; two powerful men in love with the same exquisite, inscrutable woman; and a plot that will change the course of history. Feng Yi Ting is not only a profoundly operatic story, it is the historically true account of Diao Chan, a woman of legendary beauty and the central figure in a dangerous rivalry between aristocrat Dong Zhuo and his godson, General Lu Bu." (Spoleto Festival U.S.A., p. 1)

This is a theme that will also resonate with fans of works by Jackie Chan, Bruce Lee and other kung fu legends. The notion of family rivalry and of claiming one's right to a throne are concepts drawn directly from ancient Chinese mythology and reflecting the various scandals and moments of intrigue that marked its dynastic history. These themes are echoed through centuries of Chinese cultural output, and made most recognizable to western audiences in the form of poorly overdubbed, transparently acted and stupendously choreographed action films. Indeed, a great many kung fu films offer garbled or simplified translations of the internal rivalries that often spawned wars of succession and instability within the Chinese Empire. This is, of course, the remarkable subtext to Feng Yi Ting, which uses the will, ambition and jealousy of a single rivalry to instigate an all-out war.

Here within is a distinct objectivity though, a feature also often found in the kung fu films of the mid to late 20th century. That is, the notion of rivalry and envy is not inherently connected to rational ideas about good and evil. These ethical value judgments are quite secondary to the matter of human conflict and its role in the affairs of both love and power. As Giovetti (2012) points out, "Feng Yi Ting (running until June 7 and stopping in New York at the Lincoln Center Festival, also under Redden's directorship, in July) is characterised by an emotional neutrality that leaves the audiences to decide for themselves how they feel." (Giovetti, p. 1)

In many ways, this is a distinctly eastern way of approaching conflict, providing its details as a history rather than an allegory. And once again, as with the kung fu movies that made so great an impression on me as a child, the play would using certain visual strategies to supplement these themes. They demonstrate the same spare simplicity often conveyed in kung fu set design. Sets are frequently seen as surrogate to the movements, interactions and needs of the human payers. In Feng Yi Ting, this is accomplished using a bevy of experimental techniques that were at once appropriate and visually arresting. For instance, the article by Pool (2012) discusses the manner in which set pieces are used to visually approximate the far-reaching impact of the love triangle on the whole of the empire. According to Pool, "the femme fatale (as she purposefully wanted to be viewed) pitted the two men against one another, causing much murder and mayhem between them and their governing territories that were symbolized by two rotating sculptural pieces on either side of the stage as well as massive projections of the warriors at war." (Pool, p. 1)