The "Living Kuan Kung" Talks About Peking Opera
Theresa Wang / photos Chien Yung-ping / tr. by Peter Eberly
January 1987
Peking opera actors are said to take on some of the characteristics of the roles they play.
Li T'ung-ch'un is no exception. On stage, his portrayal of Kuan Kung, the heroic general from the Three Kingdoms Period, has earned him the epithet of "a living Kuan Kung." And in life, Li is broad-featured, forthright, robust, and willing to talk about just about anything.
Just after dinner, in the living room of his second-floor apartment, Li T'ung ch'un pointed to a blown-up color stage photo from a Kuan Kung opera and exclaimed in the loud, clear voice of a Peking opera actor, "It hasn't been easy, let me tell you. In 1981 we even got ourselves put on a postage stamp!" The photo showed a quintessential Kuan Kung--red face, "blue-green dragon" sword, left hand stroking a long beard. "You see those tassels on the sides of the hat? They're a specialty of the 'Li school.'" he added.
Li's background in the theater is a rich one. His father and older brother were both well-known Peking opera actors on the mainland before the war, and the younger Li was practicing acting movements by the age of eight and performing on stage at nine. "There's no other way to learn opera: besides talent, the only key is 'training,'" he said. His own skills were trained into shape under the unsparing rod of his exacting father.
Li T'ing-ch'un believes that the old-style education by the stick may seem harsh, but that it does make the basic movements become instinctive to a child. "Only then can you go on to talk about 'performing,'" he said.
In his own experience, once the fundamental skills had been thoroughly "trained," the next step was "polishing." This so-called "polishing" meant practicing and performing day and night. "It's like an athlete training for the 100-meter dash by running laps," Li said. "You've got to be completely on top of your stuff before you can really 'click.' Otherwise, you'll be losing your breath, worrying about dropping lines, and stepping out of rhythm. You've got to do your 'homework' first."
Opera connoisseurs all say that Li's "kungfu is solid" and his "steps are good," abilities which he attributes to his diligent early training and practice. And his stage presence and chemistry with the other actors he credits to his work as a young man in supporting roles.
In fact, supporting roles are in no way easier to play than leads. That's why some famous actors in the past used to have their own private supporting actors. In addition, keeping strictly to one's part and not stealing the scene is a supporting actor's duty--or every actor's duty, Li would say. "Playing a god when you should play a god and a ghost when you should play a ghost, each in its proper part--that's the only way an actor can be considered first-rate," he said.
Speaking of "stage presence," Li believes that, besides a firm foundation in training and practice, three other elements are essential: talent, a special forte, and luck.
"We Northerners eat noodles, you know, and we say, 'Three tenths is the noodles and seven tenths the seasoning.' Well, stage presence is 'three-tenths singing and seven-tenths looks,'" he said.
Next is a forte or a personal style. As examples, Li took Yang Hsiao-lou and Hao Chen-chi, two actors who specialized in acting the Monkey King. Yang, nimble and agile, was a classic case of "monkey imitates man," while Hao, who raised monkeys at home and imitated them day and night, was called "a monkey true-to-life."
As for luck, Li cites the case of Chin Shao-shan, famed for his portrayal of Hsiang Yu in Hsiang Yu Bids Farewell to His Beloved. Chin was still a second- or third-string actor in the South when luck had it that the legendary Mei Lan-fang came to Shanghai and decided to perform the Beloved. Mei needed someone to play the male lead, and Chin was dragged in to make do. The first three days everyone came to see Mei Lan-fang, but by the fourth, word of Chin's Hsiang Yu had spread and his career was made.
Li T'ung-ch'un, with his rich background and training, began taking top billing in his early twenties. He came to Taiwan when he was 23 and has remained a star ever since, renowned particularly for his portrayal of Kuan Kung. In fact, Li began learning Kuan Kung operas at age fourteen, from his older brother, and has been involved with the role for nearly half a century.
Some people like to divide contemporary Peking opera into old and new schools, one creative, the other conservative, and never the twain shall meet. Li T'ung-ch'un wishes younger actors who are willing to experiment all the best. He believes that every actor has a responsibility to create new possibilities for his roles or his plays. But he also urges young actors to see a lot and learn a lot and not to reject old actors. "That way, when the youngsters go out and bring the house down, we can be along to share in some of the glory," he said.
Li T'ung-ch'un is sixty years old now, his waist larger and his kungfu less strong than it was. But what weighs on his mind most is the transmission of traditional operas. Of the 4,000-some scripts in existence, less than a hundred are commonly performed, meaning that many good operas are dying out. He calls on those who remember them to record them quickly.
Recalling the thousands of scripts that were once kept by the Li family, he shook his head: "Me, I was the rising young star when I was a lad and never gave a thought to the future. I also liked a glass or two. Now that I think back, if only I'd put my mind to learning a few scripts back then, I'd have it made now for the rest of my days!"
Asked with a laugh if he "really regrets it" or is only joking, Li put on his opera voice: "I really regret it!"
After four straight hours of anecdotes and stories, Li T'ung-ch'un's vigor and good humor were unabated. Shining forth amid the talk and laughter was the frank and virile spirit of Lord Kuan himself.
[Picture Caption]
Li T'ung-ch'un's Kuan Kung is one of the glories of the Taiwan stage. (photo courtesy of Li T'ung-ch'un)
Now entering his sixties, Li continues to devote time to training youngsters in the art of Chinese opera.
In this way the traditions of Chinese opera are passed on from generation to generation.
The latest generation of the "Li family school." Unfortunately, only Li T'ung-ch'un (with the painted face) and Li Huan-ch'un (second from the left in back), still hold the stage. Li T'ung-ch'un's second-oldest son (standing in back) and Li Huan-ch'un's son (at back, in red) both work in film.
The two people who influenced Li the most: his father, Li Yung-li (r.) and his older brother Li Wan-ch'un (l.). (courtesy of Chang Hsiang-ch'ien)
Offstage, Li is vigorous and straightforward, just like his role on it.
Li believes an actor must put himself fully into his part before he takes the stage.
The "living Kuan Kung" is robed for his part. Next he will put on his headdress, slip in a "holy picture," and wait in dignity for his entrance.
Now entering his sixties, Li continues to devote time to training youngsters in the art of Chinese opera.
In this way the traditions of Chinese opera are passed on from generation to generation.