Singing Praises of Cantonese Opera

Clad in traditional bright-red Chinese bride and groom costumes, Josephine Liang and Max Tse are preening in front of the mirror yet again. She carefully fixes her bejeweled phoenix coronet; he straightens his dragon-embroidered robe.

But they are far too young to get married.

Josephine is just 10 and Max is 8. They are about to play the leads in a dress rehearsal of a classic Chinese opera, “Breaking the Red Lantern,” a nuptial comedy of a haughty princess and her impertinent groom.

As part of an innovative program, 30 Hong Kong children are breathing new life into a traditional art form that once was immensely popular as the sole form of entertainment in the rural villages of Hong Kong and southern China.

Chinese are now more likely to be entertained by television, movies and trendy music, and as many opera fans age and die, there have been worries the operas themselves could be doomed.

“People commonly think that only grannies will listen to Cantonese operas, but then I wondered whether children will be interested in learning it too,” says Stella Ma, an amateur performer who decided last July to start teaching children the ways of opera.

The experiment was met with an overwhelming response--the class quickly doubled and more would like to join, says Ma, who studied Cantonese opera for a master’s degree in ethnic music.

The kids, who have worked on the “Red Lantern” for two months, take their work seriously and turn in a surprisingly good performance.

Amid the music of gongs and cymbals, the groom is irritated at being left alone by his snobby princess bride at their wedding banquet. “What an insult,” Max sings. “I must show my anger.”

While pondering how to punish the princess, he stops at the doors of an imaginary wedding chamber, acting as if he has seen a red lantern hanging up--a traditional sign that the groom cannot enter.

“What? That silly rule. That stupid red lantern,” the groom sings as he pulls down the makeshift lantern and crushes it with his feet.

Not knowing that the lantern has been trashed, the princess sings in falsetto, “Tom, how dare you come in when the lantern is still up!”

And so it goes in Cantonese opera.

Josephine says it was love at first sight when her mother first took her to an opera about the moon goddess Sheung-ngor, full of singing, acting, dancing, acrobatics, posturing and bright makeup.

“I love the songs, to sing and act,” she says. Josephine is a tough self critic, calling her performance in the rehearsal not “expressive enough.”

Max says he had to be dragged to the classes by his parents, both devoted opera fans.

“It was boring and difficult,” he says, fidgeting during an interview. “But after I learned it for a while, I discovered that it’s a lot of fun.”

Parents rave about the benefits opera has brought to their children. They say the kids benefit physically from practicing acrobatics, their language skills get honed from memorizing lyrics and their gestures are more graceful.

Daisy Chan says her 6-year-old daughter, Lam Yu-tung, refused to take off her costume after coming home from the first class. “She just loves it and begged me to let her continue to learn.”

Like a young starlet, Yu-tung can spare a reporter just a few minutes while a cosmetician paints her face.

“I like to wear fairy dresses,” she says as she gets patted with white powder and spread with rouge before thick black eyeliner and vermilion lipstick are added.

Fitted out with a waist-length wig and glittering headdress, Yu-tung looks the miniature diva as she heads out to dance with four fellow moon fairies.

The children seem intrigued by the highly stylized makeup and the dazzling and colorful costumes--sewn by hand and decorated with sequins and intricate embroidery.

“We often have to tell the children to stop running around since the clothes can’t be washed,” Ma says.

The children often make a mess of themselves when they paint their faces. But they can master difficult stunts like somersaults and cartwheels within minutes.

Lying flat on the ground, 8-year-old Tanya Kong easily arches her back and legs forward to place them between her upturned head, with spectators gaping at her ball-shaped body.

“It’s easy,” she says.

Some lyrics have been translated into English and the young actors plan to take their show about the red lantern to Chicago in July.

Just 10, Jennifer Leung wants to keep Cantonese opera alive so generations to come can revel in the tales of romance, conquered countries and ruined families.

She recently played a lead role in the tale of a herd boy and a fairy--lovers separated by the Milky Way and permitted to meet only once a year when magpies form a bridge they can cross.

“If I can teach others what I’ve learned, then Cantonese operas won’t be lost,” Jennifer says.