seized upon by the Chinese for theatrical performances will render them still more so. In the first place it must be remembered that the Chinese have practically no form of public amusement, and that outside the large towns there is nothing from one year's end to another, save a rare feast day or fair, to which the people can look forward. The interest created by the advent in a village of a company of strolling players can only most inadequately be compared to the exuberance of spirits displayed by the children before the curtain rises on Boxing Day at Drury Lane pantomime. To say that the village is en fête is far short of the mark. For weeks before hand the whole neighborhood is in a fever of excitement. Open house and unbounded hospitality are the order of the day. And no light matter this, for all the relatives of the family, bringing with them all their children, not to mention stray acquaintances whom they may pick up on the way, descend like a swarm of bees upon their hapless hosts. Probably their hosts will be the only ones who do not see the play, "guests and thieves occupy all their time." The great day arrives at last. Before the sun is up all the small boys of the village together with, it would seem, every stray mongrel in the province, crowd out to the creek-path to welcome the players. You picture the distinguished actor-manager staggering along, at the head of his tatterdemalion company, laden with the more valuable articles of wardrobe or "property list." Arriving, with his escort, at the selected and most suitable ground-for choice in the middle of the busiest thoroughfare he at once proceeds to superintend the erection of the stage. Nor is he above turning his hand to the nice adjustment of a plank or the levelling of the old proscenium bamboos. Soon the hour arrives for "making up," and as this is one of the most interesting features of the entertainment (for it all takes place in public), the crowd assumes phenomenal proportions. Stout gentlemen crawl under the staging and good-humoredly bump their heads in the endeavor to share in the delights of a peep behind the scenes. One mischievous urchin will seize a gaudy tinsel crown and clap it on his head to the admiring applause of others less daring. And so the play begins; a feast of dramatic fare which easily outvies in its variety the efforts of the old "stock" companies of the "sixties" with their five plays a night. From nine in the morning to sunset one follows close upon another, the "whole to conclude," as the play-bills have it, "with a grand harlequinade for the children." At least, it is something very like it, and equally appreciated by the small folk. The lanterns are lighted, the stage is pulled down and packed up, and our actor-manager and his company vanishes into the mists of the rice-fields, on his way to the next village, before the last firecracker has exploded. Every possible opportunity is taken by the Chinese to secure a theatrical performance of some kind. The mandarin or wealthy merchant will pay his guest the highest honor by engaging a company to perform after din needed, but to waste money upon such material improvements by which the public will benefit would appear absurd to the Chinese, and so the best theatrical company obtainable is engaged. Any consideration, however brief, of the condition of the Drama in China would be incomplete without some reference to the status of the actor. In South China young boys are purchased for the profession from their parents, or maybe they are foundlings. These serve a six years' apprenticeship, and their subsequent success depends upon their own efforts. They may eventually, perhaps, purchase their freedom. Rarely does one find that a young man possessing real ability or an exceptional voice will enter the profession of his own freewill. A good theatrical company may number a hundred, and the salaries range from $30 to $6,000 (say £15 to £3,000) per annum.3 Those rare actors who can play the female parts really well command very high terms. As is well known, actors are regarded with the greatest contempt by all classes of society. Their children are precluded from entering the examinations for the literary degrees, nor may they hold Government offices. As to the reasons for this curiously contradictory state of affairs, considering the popularity of the Drama, it is almost impossible to hazard a suggestion. Probably they are to be found in the lives of the actors themselves, for they are very frequently scoundrels of the lowest type, generally confirmed opium-smokers, and they usually die penniless and starving. It may be thought that before any attempt is made to educate the people by means of the Drama some reforms should be instituted in connection with the status 3 The accuracy of the latter figure appears to me to be open to question, but it is vouched for by several sound authorities. Danjuro, the famous Japanese actor, would earn at least £2,000 per annum. of the actor. But the dividing-line beween the public and private life of the players is so strongly marked that the necessity is not so great as it appears to be. That The morals of the actress do not. enter into the question, for all women's parts are played by men, and most effectively, too. There is, however, in China one theatre at least where all the parts are played by women. it is within the jurisdiction of an enlightened foreign Municipal Council probably accounts for its existence. But any attempt at mixed performances is foredoomed to failure, even in that progressive settlement. Two or three years ago overtures in this direction were made by an enterprising manager, but upon receipt of a strong protest from the local Chinese magistrate the Council refused to sanction the performance. The leading journal of the native Press at the same time of "deplored the downward trend Chinese morals in the settlement (as instanced by the above application), in the view that other applications for mixed performances would be made and that, if allowed, such must have a decidedly demoralizing effect upon Chinese morals." II. But if this is the present-day attitude of the native residents in a great port under foreign control towards a progressive policy in the personnel of their theatres, the modernization, according to Western ideas, of the buildings and plays is equally surprising. In Shanghai alone there have recently been built, under the supervision of firms of foreign architects, three large theatres upon European lines, while another is projected for Hongkong. Of these the second largest can seat an audience of more than 2,000, each individual, as the English or American manager delights in stating, "having an uninterrupted view of the stage." It is built upon the twotier principle, and the upper circle appears to be exactly similar to that at the Queen's Hall, London. The first circle is divided up into boxes to hold six, with small tables or ledges for tea, sweetmeats, and fruit. The stage differs but little from an European one save that the "apron," or part which projects beyond the proscenium, is much larger and is fitted with an extra curtain. Upon this the action of the play is carried on without "waits" upon the principle adopted in Mr. Oscar Ashe's production of Kismet, and, more recently, by Mr. Granville Barker at the Savoy Theatre. The depth of the stage is sufficient to allow a cinematograph lantern (such exhibitions are as popular in China as in London) to be placed behind the screen instead of in the front of the house. This particular theatre is generally used for big historical plays of a spectacular nature, acrobats, or a variety entertainment. During the past year a still larger building has been opened in Shanghai. This has a seating capacity of 2,250, apportioned, to the pit 1,200, dress circle 600, and gallery 450. In fact, the theatre itself is somewhat larger than the London Hippodrome. There is a roof-promenade to which two lifts convey would-be tea-drinkers. Every precaution against fire that ingenuity can suggest has been adopted. To the gallery alone there are four exterior fire-escapes, besides other energency exits; and all interior staircases can be cut off from the main building by means of special doors. For those interested in the subject it may be added that the three frontages of the theatre measure respectively 175, 202, and 260 feet. While the method of presentation of the historical and mythological drama continues very much upon the same LIVING AGE VOL. LX. 3142 lines as those of "yesterday"-with, perhaps, considerably more elaboration through the application of Western inventions and stage devices-in the direction of the modern, or social, drama a most remarkable change is taking place. It is impossible at present to gauge the effect upon the native audiences, for the Chinese point of view remains a closed book to the foreigner. But that this progressive policy, if persevered in, will prove farreaching in its effects and influence no one who has studied Chinese social questions can doubt. As illustrations of this reform a brief account may be given of two theatrical performances in particular recently witnessed. One was a per formance by an amateur dramatic club from Peking of a translation of Hall Caine's The Bondman; the other was a modern native comedy performed by professionals at one of the above-mentioned theatres in Shanghai. It is worthy of remark that in neither of these cases was any serious attempt made to attract the foreign visitor, so that it may be presumed that the plays were produced in the ordinary course of business to cater for native tastes. The Bondman was performed somewhat upon the same lines as those of the English play of that name. It is impossible to say whether the translation was well or ill done, but at least an honest attempt was made to reproduce the English-or is it Manx?atmosphere. Certainly there were no live-stock on the stage, no real cow to be milked-an almost insurmountable difficulty-but one scene gave a very creditable presentment of a farmhouse, a "practicable" set which would have served upon a small London stage. The mixture of costumes was somewhat incongruous. The hero, for instance, wore a kind of golfing-suit of thick velveteen, and elastic-side boots, his queue concealed under a brown wig; while the heroine was in ordinary native dress. But the diction was remarkably clear, for a Chinese stage, and the acting was thoroughly earnest and straightforward. There were occasional lapses into "pidgin English" or French, but these were probably in untranslatable portions of the dialogue. There was also a small orchestra, with foreign instruments, announced as a portion of (the late) Sir Robert Hart's famous band. This supplied incidental music at more or less appropriate intervals. That such a play should have been presented under such conditions, and to a purely native audience, even in a foreign settlement, is one of the most remarkable instances of the progressive tendencies of thought amongst young China in the capital. It is understood that the same amateur company has in course of preparation a number of other plays, all of which will be adapted from British, French, or German sources. Sir Arthur Pinero's Iris should suit the company to a nicety. In a short chat which I had with the secretary of the club, I inquired whether Bernard Shaw would appeal to a Chinese audience, and suggested Man and Superman in its entirety. The reply was apt and convincing. Lapsing for the moment into "pidgin" English, he answered with a smile, "that man he no savee what thing b'long ploper (proper) play: he makee too muchee bobbery, too muchee talkee." The modern comedy performed under professional auspices, and it was no isolated case, gave, in its way, as significant a proof of the adoption of Western ideas as did the amateur performance. A Chinese company in Shanghai has erected a commodious on the theatre of foreign design Chinese Bund, outside the sphere of It is built foreign administration. lines similar to that described upon above, the seating capacity being not quite so great. Here are performed modern Chinese plays, short dramatic incidents of a mythological or historical nature, seasoned now and again with a cinematograph exhibition or a troupe of jugglers. The particular play referred to had for its subject the farcical adventures of a yokel from some country district visiting a large town. The jest is an ancient one, but the treatment throughout was as novel and delicious as one could wish for. With but imperfect knowledge of the language it was possible to follow the action, almost the dialogue, with thorough enjoyment. The orchestra was not in evidence; the actors, except those who had to adopt a falsetto for the female parts, spoke in a natural voice, and by facial expression and suitable gesture, and by really sound acting, succeeded in keeping the audience in a continual state of merriment. The stage-management was more than adequate, and the changes of scene, which were very frequent, were admirably and quickly contrived. Unlike the Japanese stage, the revolv ing platform is not used for such changes. As may be imagined, topical questions offer a never-ending source from which the skilful Chinese playwright may derive his plots, and it is significant that such appeal very strongly to a native audience. It is unfortunate that plays of this nature have been so frequently utilized as media for presenting the doings of the foreigner in China in as unfavorable a light as possible, and it is only necessary to recall the plays which were written round incidents in the Boxer trouble to realize how serious a menace they may prove to be. It must be remembered that but a very short distance from the great ports, the main trade routes, the railways, or isolated mission-stations, the foreigner is prac tically unknown. Consequently, the wiidest stories are current amongst the country-folk as to his weird appearance, his curious habits and customs, all of which are incomprehensible to the native mind. In plays he is invariably represented as the most repulsive being, hideous as the most grotesque Chinese idol; and the native, with dim visions of the wild barbarian invaders whom his ancestors were continually called upon to repel, is only too ready to believe that this is but another generation of the same stock which is seeking to gain a footing in his country. One instance may be given of the treatment on the Chinese stage of current events. The evils of opium smoking, a question always with us, were brought prominently forward by the International Opium Commission which sat at Shanghai in February, 1909, and by the methods instituted by the Shanghai Municipal Council for the gradual suppression of the opiumdens within its administrative district. It is not surprising that the occasion was seized to produce a play on the subject, but it is interesting to note the form it took. A close analogy is to be found in a play, adapted from the French, called Drink, which won a considerable measure of public support in England during recent years, mainly due, perhaps, to the remarkable impersonation of the hero by the late Charles Warner. It will be remembered that this play traced the moral and physical decline of a man under the ever-increasing influence of alcoholic liquor until a horrible death supervened. In the same way the "Opium Play" treated of the downward career of a well-to-do Chinese merchant who contracted the opium habit, and its effect upon his family was realistically set forth in the well-known Chinese manner. His little son was poisoned by anti-opium pills. his wife died of shock, his mother of grief, his accountants set fire to his house, obtained the insurance money and decamped, and so on, until the last scene of the tragedy showed the lowest depths of his degradation in a beggar's hut, and the attempt, crowned with success, of an American missionary to save him. In producing this play the management certainly made a bid for the support of foreign residents and visitors-a gala performance was given to the delegates of an American commercial congress-by printing a synopsis of the plot in English; but there can be no doubt that it was primarily intended for Chinese audiences. A residence in China for half a century does not qualify a man to speak with any authority of that wonderful race; he can but record his impressions. To generalize is impossible, for what is true of the South is untrue of the North, the dialect and customs of one province are unknown in an adjoining one. The Chinese are a nation of playactors from the highest Government official to the rikisha coolie in the street. It is a land of "make-believe." The doctrine of "face" is of paramount importance in all business and social relations. The Chinese lives and acts upon a stage of his own erection from his earliest years to the day of his death. He makes of his every-day life a spectacular drama, and it matters not that his audience is no larger than his own family circle or the little village community. And while his own life is such, his appreciation of the same characteristic in his friends and acquaintances is none the less sincere. It is universally recognized, unconsciously perhaps, that a man's worth must be estimated at the valuation which he himself places upon it. In Western lands the abstract idea may occasionally be upheld for the sake of mere politeness, but in China |