Only Joking?
The Relationship between the Clown and Percussion in Jingju
Ashley Thorpe
Abstract
The prime function of the clown (chou) in jingju (
There are four principal role types in jingju (commonly known as
Historical Importance of the Clown
The first document concerning "actors" is found in the Records of the Great Historian, written by Sima Qian (145–90 bce), who was appointed to the court of Emperor Wu (reigned 141–87 bce) of the Western Han dynasty. In a section entitled Lives of the Jesters, Sima chronicled a jester called Meng from the Zhou imperial court of Emperor Zhang (696–683 bce). Because Lives of the Jesters is "the first record of actors and their lives in
In jingju, the role of the clown is essentially divided into two principal male roles: the martial clown (wu chou) and the civilian clown (wen chou).2 The martial clown specializes in portraying military personnel or great action heroes and is considered to be the most demanding role to perform in jingju.3 This is because the role requires the actor to develop excellent acrobatics, comic acting, and a strong, clear voice. Although acrobatics are not as important to the civilian clown (who specializes in portraying government officials and servants), the actor must portray a range of different characters through movement in addition to acquiring the improvisational skills to impress the audience with his comic ingenuity. However, while it is perceived that the primary stage function of the clown is to entertain, the connection between the clown and the exorcistic properties of percussion (specifically drums and gongs) suggests that there is also a serious subtext to his comic antics. To demonstrate this, I will offer a contextualization of the musical performance of the clown, arguing that in both the mythical origins of theatre and in actual performance, the relationship between the clown and percussion references the shamanic origins of performance. Though my discussion is primarily concerned with the historic and actual techniques of jingju performance that have not been documented elsewhere (rather than an analysis of joking4 ), my aim is to show that alongside its comedic function, the clown's musical performance actually harks back to exorcistic patterns of using percussion to gather and subdue demons.
Music is one of the essential components of jingju: it is not only a means of conveying atmosphere but also serves as a part of a complex symbolic sign system. This symbolic communication through music can, for example, take the form of a drum, which may be played to represent an approaching army located far off stage, or a suona (a [End Page 270] double reed instrument, with a metal mouthpiece, wooden body, and an adjustable flared metal bell) played in such a way as to imitate a horse neighing. It is not surprising, therefore, that when an audience attends a jingju performance, the verb used is not to "see" or "watch," but to "listen" (tingxi).5
The Development of the Drum and Clappers
The drum is the most important instrument in the jingju orchestra. The drummer, or sigu (literally, "controller of the drum"), primarily acts as a conductor for the orchestra, which consists of both percussive and melodic instruments. However, the sigu also influences and is influenced by the performance of the actors since the sigu must ensure that the intricate relationship between the actor and the percussion section is precise, so that movements correspond to their relative percussive accompaniment. It is also the function of the sigu to alter the performance to suit the mood of the audience by either decreasing the tempo (in order to allow the audience to appreciate the lyrical sections) or increasing the tempo (to make the performance more animated if the audience appear restless), which in turn affects the tempo of the actor's singing. Furthermore, should the actors deviate from their prescribed physical movements, the sigu can cover these mistakes by cueing additional percussive passages to disguise wrongly executed movement. It is, therefore, the responsibility of the sigu to act as a mediator between actor and orchestra, stage and audience.
The history of the drum in
Furthermore, shamans also used drums as a tool in clairvoyance. In his study of Chinese shamanism, Chan asserts, "The drum is an important part of the shaman's paraphernalia. . . . The most important appurtenances of the shamanistic profession are the tambourine, the drum-stick, and the various parts of the shaman dress, and that besides its power in calling up the spirits, the tambourine has the miraculous power of carrying the shaman" (Chan 1972: 15).
The use of drums by shamans can be verified by their appearance [End Page 271] in surviving shamanistic poems called the Nine Songs (Jiuge) written by Chü Yüan (ca. 345–286 bce). In the opening hymn, drums played an important part in signifying that the ritual had begun:
Drum sticks are lifted and stricken down to lead,
The rhythmic flush with the heart-felt leading doth chime;
While lingering on pauses soft and rich,
The Pandean pipes and zithern [sic] keep their time.
All the enchantresses in vestures sheen
Dance in the sacred hall in scented air.
(Chü 1996: 235–236)
Conversely, they also mark the ending of the rite:
Rounded off the rite, drums rapidly beaten;
Exchanged the bouquets, dances again begun;
Fair chorus' songs and chantings gracefully done.
(Chü 1996: 269)
The relationship between music and the shaman is further confirmed by the fact that in ancient Chinese, the word gong meant "shaman" or "musician" (Chan 1972: 12). The musical connotations of this term are still in use today, since gong refers to the third note in the gongchepu music notation system.7 Consequently, the drum (and percussion in general) is firmly rooted in shamanistic practice.
In jingju, when the sigu (controller of the drum) cues the orchestra, he or she actually uses two instruments—the drum (gu) and the clappers (ban). The clappers consist of three pieces of red wood, which are tied together. The sigu uses one of the pieces of wood as a grip and by twisting the wrist, makes the other two pieces strike, thereby creating the percussive sound.8 Although these instruments are two distinct devices, they are actually referred to as one inseparable instrument, called guban (literally, "drum and clappers"). The connection between the two instruments may lie in the historical connection between the drum and wood. The earliest forms of writing in
| Figure 1 | ||
| Figure 2 | ||
Tong has observed that many of the surviving Shang dynasty drums had birds carved into a saddle across the top, making it possible to speculate that the upper section of the jiaguwen character for gu (Figure 2a) may represent birds (Tong 1983: 118). If this interpretation is correct, it supports the relationship between drumming and shamanism, since "in ancient China, the sun was symbolised by the bird, and was worshipped by the Shang people. Therefore, it was natural for a shaman to imitate a bird on the occasion of a religious ceremony. When the shaman is transported from reality into religious fantasty, he becomes a bird" (Chan 1972: 13).
The image of the shaman as a bird relates to contemporary ritual in China, since some nuo performances (a mixture of ritual, dance, and drama dating from the Shang dynasty) sometimes include a special dance called the "Yu Step" (yubu)—a dance that involves the actor hopping across a nine-cell square (called the luo diagram) imagined on the stage (see Riley 1997: 93–110). By enacting this movement, the actor replicates the dance of the mythical character Yu, who quelled a great flood and appeased the gods for his father's sins (Birrell 2000: 34). However, as Chan has argued, "as a shaman usually dances during a religious ceremony, we may assume that . . . the uniqueness of Yu's [End Page 273] footwork lies in the fact that Yu hopped, rather than walked. Yu may have hopped to imitate the bird's way of walking" (Chan 1972: 12). Consequently, a connection can still be inferred between the drum, shamanism, and dancing in some forms of traditional performance.
Whereas the only surviving examples of Shang drums have a body made of bronze, there is evidence that many drums were made from wood. For example, Tong notes that "there is no record of the use of bronze drums in Shang times. Theoretically most drums would have been made of wood, and the presence of three rows of "tacks" on the heads of . . . [bronze] drums suggests they are imitations of wooden drums" (Tong 1983: 119). Taking this connection further, the link between the wooden clappers and the drum can be more precisely found in the historical development of music in ancient China. The ban (clappers) may actually have emerged from the drum itself.
Many of the Zhou court musicians were blind. It might have been necessary to make a sound to signal the beginning so that the musicians could start the music correctly. In later generations, the wooden clapper was made for this purpose. Before the clapper was invented, it is possible that there was a time when another object was used; it is natural that the stand of some instrument would be struck for such a purpose, because it does not interfere with the pitch of other instruments and because there would be no need to make an extra instrument.
(Tong 1984b: 78)
Because the drum stand was constructed from wood, it seems logical that the ban, probably developed from tapping the drum stand, would also be made of wood. As music became more developed in China, the clappers and the drum remained a single instrument and became known in jingju as the guban (literally 'drum and clappers'). In jingju, both the drum and the clappers are used to integrate aural and physical performance modes. The sigu uses his or her left hand to keep time with the singing of the actor by marking accented beats on the ban, while the right hand holds a drumstick to cue the orchestra on the drum when necessary. When the sigu is accompanying the movement (rather than the singing) of the actor, the sigu holds a drumstick in each hand and uses the drum to lead the musicians, as well as cue and follow the actors.
Although the connection between shamanic drumming and ancient comedy is difficult to prove conclusively, it is supported by the discovery of a clay model dating from the Eastern Han dynasty depicting a laughing entertainer that was excavated from a tomb in Sichuan in 1957. The entertainer was holding a drum, probably used to provide [End Page 274] rhythmic accompaniment to the stories he told (see Shaugnessy 2000: 210). Furthermore, jester Meng (the "first actor" in Chinese history discussed earlier) was also known as "yue ren" ("music man"), which suggests a close link between music and comedy (Otto 2001: 7). In order to investigate this phenomenon further, I will explore three musical features that I feel link the role of the clown with shamanic origins: shu ban (where text is recited to drum percussion), Taoist ritual chanting, and the use of percussion to underscore performance. I will demonstrate how shu ban is intimately linked with the clown role, and will then explore how language patterns found in shu ban relate to old Chinese forms of storytelling, which may themselves have shamanic roots. I will speculate upon the relationship between ritual and theatrical music, before exploring the importance of improvisation to the clown role through an examination of the performance practice of comic actors in traditional Cantonese theatre (yueju) from Hong Kong. Finally, I will examine how percussion links the performance of all traditional Chinese theatre, including that of the clown, to exorcistic origins. While I acknowledge that each piece of evidence is circumstantial, I find that the overlapping of multiple musical and performance clues not only adds to the mythological primacy and traditional homage that is accorded the clown role in Chinese tradition, but also points in the same direction, towards shamanic origins.
The Clown and the Guban
Of all the instruments in the jingju orchestra, the clown is most closely linked to the guban and, by association, the sigu. This connection has manifested itself in a number of ways, all of which lead back to Emperor Tang Minghuang (r. 712–756 ce). Tang Minghuang was a great patron of the performing arts and established the Pear Garden Academy (Liyuan), the first training school for musicians, and later, actors. In Chinese theatrical circles (and beyond) the belief is still held that Emperor Tang Minghuang enjoyed performing on stage as both a clown and a sigu. In reverence to the emperor, a number of privileges were bestowed upon those who took either role in a theatrical troupe thereafter. For instance, the sigu was the only percussionist allowed to sit down during a performance, while all the other percussionists had to remain standing. However, the clown actor enjoyed more privileges, including being the only actor permitted to offer incense to the image of Tang Minghuang (who had been deified as the god of theatre), being allowed to sit on any trunk backstage (all other actors had to sit on the trunk appropriate to their role), and being the beneficiary of a rule insisting that no other actor may begin to apply his makeup before the clown (Huang 2001: 179–180). [End Page 275]
Furthermore, the clown and the sigu are also closely linked musically. The clown frequently uses the guban as a solo instrument, particularly when performing a special musical device called shu ban. Shu ban is predominantly (though not exclusively) performed by the clown, and is used most often toward the beginning of the play (when an actor makes his first entrance on the stage) or in the middle of a performance (before an actor exits). Shu ban involves the speaking of light-hearted verse to a strict rhythm tapped out by the orchestral leader on the ban or clappers (with an effect not dissimilar to rap music). Because the emphasis of the role is humor and not aesthetic beauty, the clown actor rarely uses song to express his character. Rather, the actor takes everyday incidents and uses them as a source of humor. Therefore, shu ban verse is generally descriptive in content, allowing the clown character to either introduce himself or explain his everyday actions (such as picking up his coat, leaving the house, etc.) in a humorous poem-like structure (see Figure 3). The percussive passages, which are a feature of this particular example of shu ban, serve to accompany the movement of the actor as he performs the verse.10 The use of the percussion section during shu ban is usually used by the wu chou, who, like other martial roles, uses it to make a more forceful impression on the audience. The civilian clown, however, does not have the vigor of the martial clown and is, therefore, usually accompanied only by the sigu on the guban. [End Page 276]
| Figure 3 |
[End Page 277]
Translation:
JIAO GUANGPU: I am—I am an innkeeper in the town of Liuye,
Making a living by bringing in guests.
They come from all over the place,
And what they speak is in foreign tongue.
The awe of the tiger and wolf is not to be feared,
I serve them with a façade of attentiveness.
Woe betide me! My body in a foreign land, heart still at home!
Without a pass how can I head south?
Although before my eyes I have a thousand jars of wine,
They can't dispel the miserable boredom of being an innkeeper, an innkeeper.
Before outlining the ways in which shu ban could signify the clown as an exorcistic role, it is necessary to contextualize this performance technique with other kinds of musical expression found in performance. In particular, the musical and linguistic structure of shu ban verse reveals that it is closely related to jingju song. While there are a variety of meters used in jingju performances, shu ban is always performed in the same two meters called liu shui ban (flowing water meter) and duo ban (stacked-up meter). Both have one accented beat per bar and are closely related, but there is a difference in emphasis between the two. Liu shui ban has a softer emphasis on the beats as they progress, whereas duo ban has a slightly harder emphasis.12 Not only do these metres structure shu ban, they also structure jingju song since they are two of the basic metrical types used in the form. Songs in these meters, like shu ban, normally make use of seven-character lines, though these lengths can be altered to insert additional words to add detail. In song, this plasticity of line construction is a particular feature of the duo ban meter, which is typically "very flexible, delivered in a style somewhat comparable to recitative" (Wichmann 1991: 287). Consequently, the performance of rhythmic speech (such as shu ban) can be viewed as an extension of the spectrum of aural performance styles, which constantly shift between variants of song and recitative as a performance progresses.
One possible origin of shu ban verse may be located in the structure of changduanju, a form of verse predating the Tang dynasty (618– 907 ce). The lines of changduanju verse are also normally seven characters long, interspersed with longer or shorter lines as deemed necessary (Yang and Tao 1981: 122). However, in northern parts of China there also exists a kind of storytelling called shulaibao, where short stories and observations are recited to the accompaniment of bamboo [End Page 278] clappers. Like shu ban, the verse structure in shulaibao usually consists of seven syllables per line, with the rhyme positioned at the end of each sentence. Originally, beggars would have entertained passersby with improvised poems about the street scene before them. However, as the form advanced, the repertoire became more fixed, with performers incorporating scenes from famous historical stories and popular folktales (Yang and Tao 1981: 686). Indeed, in the closely related genre of kuaibanshu (fast clapper tale), the narratives are much more developed, usually being adapted from novels.13 In any case, shu ban verse is structured to make use of natural accents in the language, which give it an inherent rhythmic quality to be exploited in performance (see Figure 4). The syllabic stresses in the words are inherent in the verse structure (similar to, for example, the use of stresses found in Western trochaic poetry), usually corresponding to the beats played by the sigu on the guban. This means that the clown actor and the sigu can use the constructed accents of each line to reinforce the rhythmic structure of the verse.
When the clown actor performs shu ban, the speech tones of the Chinese language are marginally heightened to make the sentence sound more melodic or dramatic, depending on the desired effect in the particular scene. However, since shu ban verse is often spoken at high speed, the actor must continue to pay attention to the existing spoken tones of the Chinese language (as well as the speed and delivery of the lines) to ensure that he maintains good communication with the audience. This is particularly true of an example of shu ban in the play Famen Temple (Fa Men Si), where the tempo of the shu ban increases as the piece is performed, until the clown is reciting lines extremely rapidly. Not only does this create a comic effect, but it also gives the clown actor an opportunity to display his virtuosity and preciseness. However, although the tempo of shu ban may increase as the verse is performed, this is the exception rather than the rule. On the whole, shu ban remains at a constant tempo throughout, in order to allow each word to be clearly enunciated. Furthermore, although the rhythmic meter for shu ban is very strict, the clown actor may (if he believes the audience will be receptive) insert additional words or alter the existing lines of the verse at his discretion. It is, however, considered more skillful to achieve this without disturbing the rhythm of the sigu or altering the number of beats available to the actor.
Furthermore, in order to achieve a smooth transition between music patterns, there is a formula for introducing shu ban. Shu ban is usually preceded by a piece of percussion, which serves to establish the mood for the following section as well as set the pace. For the clown, the percussion often takes the form of a pattern called chou tou (see [End Page 279]
| Figure 4 | ||
| Figure 5 | ||
[End Page 280]
Figure 5), which can also be used as an entrance piece (shang chang) or an exit piece (xia chang) for the clown as he moves on and off stage.14 The first section of this passage is repeated until the sigu can see that the clown actor has completed his movements and is ready to begin shu ban (or, in the case of exiting, has left the stage). The sigu should have a sufficient understanding of the structure of jingju performance that they can precisely time the ending of the percussion with the end of the actor's movement. Following this percussive pattern, the clown will utter a few words (normally the first syllables of the first line of theshu ban verse—see Figure 3), which acts as the cue for the sigu to introduce the rhythmic accompaniment. This formula of percussion, speech, then recited speech, is used universally in jingju to introduce shu ban.
Shu Ban and Ritual Music
The use of spoken verse to a fixed beat is not unique to jingju. For example, the clown actor in yueju (Cantonese theatre) uses a device similar to shu ban, where the rhymed syllable at the end of each verse line is marked with a tap on the woodblock. However, unlike the use of the clappers for shu ban in jingju, the woodblock does not accompany the whole verse since the actor's lines do not have a prescribed length or meter (Yung 1989: 58–59). Nevertheless, the connection between recitation, wooden percussion instruments, and the clown role is to be found in both regional genres.
The performance of recited verse to a strict, regular meter tapped out on wooden percussive instruments is also a feature of ritual music, particularly Taoist ceremonies. While it must be remembered that there are definite structural and contextual differences between sacred and secular music, it is nevertheless true that they do share some common elements and that a process of exchange has existed between them. For instance, in Hong Kong, some melodies from popular theatre have been incorporated into music for the Taoist Hungry Ghosts Festival (Tsao 1989: 90–95). It is possible, therefore, to speculate upon the relationship between aspects of ritual and theatrical music. In Lijiang,
The chanting of passages of scripture was performed by all participants to simple melodic patterns with a narrow pitch range. Because [End Page 281]the style is mostly syllabic and does not artificially extend the phrase lengths of the text (unlike the accompanied songs and movable foundation note-singing), the listener perceives this form of chanting as halfway between singing and speech. The rhythm in particular is closer to ordinary speech. . . . The constant instrumental accompaniment is the wooden fish, hit by the lead singer on each syllable.
(Rees 1996: 84)
Although the ritual chanting described by Rees is by no means identical to shu ban (in particular, the use of simple melodic patterns in the ceremonial music is not evident in shu ban, where tonality is constructed to closely follow everyday speech patterns), it is interesting to note how the use of recited text following a strict syllabic pattern, performed to a 1⁄4 meter tapped out on the wooden percussive instruments, is discernable in both ritual and theatre. This crossover is strengthened by the fact that the ritual chant described here is accompanied by the fish woodblock (muyu), an instrument that may also be found in the yueju (Cantonese theatre) orchestra.16
The Clown and Improvisation
Although shu ban is one of the primary musical tools of the clown, it is not the only musical device at the disposal of the clown actor. While it is true that the role has a tendency to substitute singing with shu ban (meaning that of the four role categories, the clown sings the least often), clown actors do sing on some occasions. When the clown sings, the style of the singing voice alters according to whether the clown is a martial or civilian role. When the civilian clown sings, the actor's singing tends to be more melismatic and, as such, closer to the male (sheng) and particularly older male (lao sheng) roles. However, by producing a sound with a more nasal quality, the martial clown actor is much closer to the painted face (jing) and martial male (wu sheng) role. Furthermore, the clown enjoys a number of special privileges and singing techniques that are unique to the role. For example, exaggeration is extremely important to the clown, and this also manifests itself musically. The clown actor may sing in the style of a famous singer, or a different role type (the female roles for example), mimicking the nuances of a particular performance for an exaggerated comic effect.
However, the relationship between the clown and the music of jingju is not always contained. In terms of meter (ban) the clown usually sings in one of four types, which are outlined in Table 1. Yuan ban and liu shui ban are strict metres, with two and one accented beats per bar, respectively. San ban and yao ban are not metered and allow the [End Page 282] actor to sing each song in their own time, whereas the sigu accompanies them in a free tempo and meter until they finish. It can be clearly seen in Table 1 how the clown shifts between singing in strict measure and free measure. This combination is not unusual, as these meters are used by all actors and are not unique to the clown. However, of the four meters, the clown tends to sing in yuan ban the most frequently. Yuan ban (primary meter) is the most important meter in jingju because it enables the actor to deliver his or her lines in the clearest fashion and allows the audience to easily understand the actor's sung verse. However, the fact that the clown sings in yuan ban more than any other meter places the singing of the clown at the heart of the metrical forms of jingju. This is in great contrast to the fact that the clown (being the role that attempts to address the comic interests of the audience directly through improvisation) may also import popular folksongs and melodic ideas that are not from jingju for comic effect. This is significant because at the heart of jingju is a complex musical system called pihuang, which forms the basis of all jingju music. In simple terms, pihuang consists of three basic components: melody, rhythmic meters and modal systems (musical scales) of which there are two, xipi and erhuang. All of these components influence each other and combine to create the distinctive structure of jingju music.17 When the clown sings a song that is not from the jingju repertoire, there is no pihuang to organize the music. Consequently, like other rules, the clown is given license to depart from the music of jingju, but for comic effect. The spontaneity of this departure enables the clown to occupy a paradoxical space where the actor oscillates between performances in the primary meter of jingju to the improvised performance of songs that are completely separate from it.
| Table 1 |
The clown is also distinct from the aural dimension of jingju through the use of stylized speech forms. As Wichmann notes, in terms of voice and vocalization, the clown is different from all other role types because it "is not a part of the spectrum of overall pitch-range and vocal timbre presented in the highly stylised voices of the other role types" (Wichmann 1991: 223). Indeed, the clown often speaks in jingbai (the dialect of Beijing that is closer, though not identical to, everyday [End Page 283] speech patterns) in performance to demonstrate that the character is from among "the people" rather than the upper classes. This makes the clown actor vocally distinct from many of the other role types. However, when performing as a government official or an aristocratic character, the civilian clown uses the yunbai form of speech on stage. Yunbai is often known as heightened speech because the tones of Mandarin Chinese are altered and exaggerated. As Wichmann notes, "Heightened speech has very strong musical qualities, and frequently has the flavour of declamation as well. It uses special pronunciations extensively, to an even greater extent than does song, and is slower than colloquial speech, with greater extremes in pitch" (Wichmann 1991: 204). All high-status characters use yunbai, regardless of role type. However, when performing in yunbai, the civil clown actor exaggerates the use of the speech tones more than any other character, making full use of the range of his voice and the tones available to him. This use of overly exaggerated yunbai is one of the elements that identifies the civilian clown performance aurally. Consequently, the clown actor is able to shift between different modes of expression according to the requirements of the character he is playing.
While the clown is a locus of musical oscillation, he is also a locus of disorder. The potential for disorder can be clearly seen when examining some of the musical techniques used by the clown actor. Traditionally, not only was the clown entitled to sing folksongs, but he was also allowed to improvise musically on stage. In this the clown was not unique, since plays were usually improvised around preexisting outlines and music was not written down (but rather transferred from teacher to pupil from memory), meaning that a greater degree of variation existed between styles of musical performance across jingju troupes. Like actors in all roles, the clown actor used this fluidity of music (as well as the skill of the musicians' memories) to insert additional songs into the performance. If the clown actor desired, he could simply start singing a famous folk tune and the orchestra would have to accompany him. On occasions, these improvisations were taken too far and musicians became very wary of particular clown actors who tended to do this often.18 While improvisation was, and to a certain extent continues to be, important to the development of traditional theatre, plays have become much more formalized in recent times, and the need for extensive improvisation has lessened. As Chan has pointed out, in contemporary mainland China "troupes rely on government sponsorship, and stylistic changes in the performances are accordingly prescribed by the cultural policies of the government.... Troupes performing in the permanent theatres of the cities in China often involve directors who supervise the rehearsals, and the use of [End Page 284] improvisation is cut down to a minimum" (Chan 1991: 17). Nevertheless, the clown continues to improvise on stage, to the point that "improvisatory comic episodes are widely considered as the trademark of Cantonese opera in Hong Kong. With the common aim of evoking laughter from the audience, and sometimes even from fellow performers, such comic episodes are improvised by the comic role actor as well as actors of other roles" (Chan 1991: 58). In jingju also, the improvisatory skills of the clown (which are developed through performance experience, rather than learned from a teacher), continue to be used today.
| Figure 6 |
The Clown, Percussion, and Exorcism
Whilst both the civilian and martial clown in jingju use the guban as a solo instrument, the martial clown is also connected with the percussion section, particularly the small gong (xiaolou) and cymbals (naobo). The small gong is primarily used to demonstrate that the character is of a low social status, so it is unsurprising that it should berelated to the clown, who usually (though not always) portrays the lower classes. However, the cymbals often accompany the small gong, which helps to create a vigorous atmosphere more suited to the martial roles. The civilian clown tends to rely upon percussion for entrances and exits and to punctuate the expressions of the character, rather than add force to the performance. Furthermore, as the martial clown primarily portrays military, fighting characters, the percussion sections for the martial clown tend to be much faster than that of the civilian clown. A typical example of a martial clown percussive section is shown in Figure 6. This piece would last only a few seconds, and starts extremely quickly (approximately 160 beats per minute), slowing as it progresses (to approximately 90 beats per minute) and would most often be used as an ending to a segment of fighting, or as an entrance piece (shang chang).19 However, a typical example of a civilian clown percussive section would be much slower (Figure 7). This piece would be repeated for much longer and is less rigorous (approximately 80 [End Page 285] beats per minute). Of course, different plays and characters require different pieces of percussion, but the varying tempos of these percussive phrases serves to demonstrate the individuality of the two clown roles.
| Figure 7 |
The percussion section is an important aspect to all jingju performances, underlining (and even signaling) the movement of the actors. However, the percussion section is clearly connected to exorcistic rites. Writing in the early twentieth century, De Groot observed:
The chief instrument for the production of exorcising noise is the gong. This well known circular plate of brass . . . is actually a characteristic feature of China, resounding through the empire everyday, especially in summer, when a rise in the death rate induces devil-expelling activity. Clashing of cymbals of brass, and rattling of drums of wood and leather intensify its usual effects. Very often small groups of men and even women [sic] are beating on gongs, cymbals and drums for a succession of hours.
(De Groot 1910: vol. 6, bk. 2, 60)
Therefore, like the drum, the gong section of the traditional jingju orchestra can also be considered a tool of exorcism, signifying that jingju performance is a synthesis of sacred and secular symbols. Indeed, as Johnson has established, historically, "Opera and ritual, the two most important institutions of non-elite community life in China, were profoundly akin because for both, performance was fundamental. . . . The centrality of performance in Chinese culture certainly was due to the centrality of ritual" (Johnson 1989: 31). Although many performances of jingju on the Chinese mainland now take place in modern purpose-built theatres, traditionally they often took place on special stages built inside temple precincts.20
ndeed, while the connection between traditional theatre and ritual has become less explicit in the major cities of the Chinese mainland, this is not necessarily the case elsewhere. During a recent visit to Hong Kong, for instance, I witnessed many yueju performances featuring strong clown roles as a part of the opening ofthe Taoist Hungry Ghosts festival (Yu Lan Pen Hui). Stages were erected directly opposite altars holding puppets (empty vessels for the possession of [End Page 286] spirits), which suggested that the comic antics of the clown served to placate and invigorate the hungry ghosts by entertaining them and making them laugh.
The connection between the spirits and comedy is also an important aspect of jingju performance. Whereas the majority of spirit characters fall into the jing (painted face) role category, some also appear in the clown category. The most notable god played by the clown actor is the role of Sun Wukong, the monkey king, who is derived from the classic novel Journey to the West. Although the role of Sun Wukong in jingju is drawn from a literary source, in Singapore, there is a Chinese spirit-medium cult associated with him. As a part of the séance, a medium will paint his face in the manner of the monkey king and allow his spirit (or one of his associates) to enter his body. Holding a flag depicting the Ba Gua diagram (a circle which represents the forces of yin and yang in harmony), a horsehair whip, and accompanied by drums and gongs, the medium proceeds to treat illnesses and dispense good-luck charms to those who seek the spirits advice.21 Hence, the symbols of clowning, drumming, and exorcism (which are an integral part of shamanism) may also be found in jingju.
Indeed, it has been persuasively argued that theatre and ritual are intricately related, and that performances of xiqu (traditional theatre) may be considered as exorcistic rites within themselves (Riley 1997: 314–317). Riley has noted that, throughout Chinese festival performances and iconography, the laughing mouth is a symbol of exorcism, since an open mouth has the ability to consume demons: "Ugliness can frighten away evil spirits, and a gaping mouth can consume evil spirits. But ugliness is also considered amusing, funny—a gaping mouth can be a smiling, laughing mouth. Both these qualities in turn, through etymological relations have the power to unify, to bring together (in order to be rid of) evil spirits" (Riley 1997: 274).
This interpretation is validated by the fact that the Mandarin word for the role of the clown in jingju ("chou") is also a homophone for "ugly" ("chou"). The importance of "ugliness" to comedy can be discerned among the first mythological "actors," since jesters were famed for being either very short or tall (Otto 2001: 22). However, such a phenomenon was not unique to China, as Welsford in her discussion of jesting points out:
When threatened with misfortune it is a good thing to provoke your neighbours in order that they might abuse you and so thereby transfer the bad luck from you to themselves. But why rest contented with an occasional transference of this kind, why not employ a permanent scapegoat whose official duty is to jeer continually at his superiors in [End Page 287] order to bear their ill-luck on his own important shoulders? Who better fitted for such a post than a misshapen dwarf or fool? . . . A fool or dwarf was naturally lucky and might transfer his good luck to you whilst you transferred your bad luck to him.
(Welsford 1935: 74)
The fact that jesters were famed for their short size suggests a link between notions of perceived "deformity" and comedy—a link that has persisted into modern times, since the clown role in jingju continues to be played by shorter-than-average actors.22 Furthermore, the clown in jingju often portrays dwarf characters by adopting a demanding gait called aizibu (literally, "dwarf step"), where the actor will perform an entire play in a crouched position.
Hence, the role of the clown symbolically unifies "ugliness" and laughter, which can be classified as having an exorcistic effect.23 Such a claim is not as fanciful as it might first appear, since the divine link between clown and musician is confirmed by the existence of three jester puppets in Taiwan (a region intimately linked with the culture of China), who functioned as gods of theatre and music and also as Taoist exorcists. As Schipper observed, "The drumming and playing of the jesters . . . is done for the purpose of 'gathering' or 'unifying'; the playing kui-lang [puppets] attract the demons, and these can be captured. This is called the 'uniting' of the pestilences, and the jesters in this case act as the gods of 'Union'" (Schipper 1966: 87).
The connection between clowning, drumming, and the god of theatre that Schipper demonstrated in Taiwan is also applicable to the clown in jingju. As noted earlier, Emperor Tang Minghuang (regarded as the founding father of the dramatic arts) liked to perform on stage both as a clown and as a sigu, and was later deified as the god of theatre. There is, therefore, a divine connection between the clown, percussion (which are inherently exorcistic instruments), and the god of theatre.
In summary, I have discussed the clown as the first mythical actor, which has been given homage in traditional theatre (itself a mode of performance related to shamanism and exorcism). I have outlined the connection between the clown and the drum, and speculated upon the relationship between musical modes of expression in theatre and in ritual. I have also outlined the role of the clown in contemporary performance practice and related those practices to shamanism. While it is not possible to categorically "prove" that the first clowning was some kind of shamanic intervention to avert evil by subverting its attention with an "ugly" laughing face, a consideration of the accumulated evidence presented here suggests that the idea of the clown as a shamanic exorcist is no joke. [End Page 288]
Ashley Thorpe received his PhD from the
Endnotes
1. Exceptions include Riley (1997: 269–282) and Scott (1975: 3–27).
2. Clown roles are usually played by men in jingju, with only the caidan category of clown (which is normally used to represent female servant characters, such as matchmakers) played by the dan (female) actress. There is, however, a strong tradition of female clowning in the regional theatre of Zhejiang province, largely because women were at the fore in developing this form of theatre.
3. This and much of the following material derives from fieldwork research and interviews with musicians and actors, conducted in 2001. I am grateful to the University of London Central Research Fund for funding this research trip.
4. For an analysis of the clown's joking as a corrective social tool, see Scott (1975: 3–27) and Thorpe (2003: 57–94).
5. For an excellent analysis of music in jingju, see Wichmann (1991).
6. For a full examination of the ancient usage of the drum in China, see Tong (1983: 115–157).
7. Chinese music is notated differently to Western music. Put simply, rather than notating melody by using notes on a stave, tones are given a number, which represents its place in the musical scale. For example, in the scale do, re, mi, fa, so, and so on, do would be depicted as 1, re as 2, and so on. For a more detailed analysis, see Wichmann (1991: 275).
8. A detailed description of the ban and other musical instruments in jingju is offered by Wichmann (1991: 225–236).
9. A full understanding of the ancient character for "yue" remains elusive. However, Tong has convincingly argued that the character for "yue" is most likely to represent a zither, where the character depicts two strands of twisted silk stretched across a wooden frame, being plucked by a finger or pick from above (Tong 1984b: 70–72).
10. In jingju drama schools, students learn percussive sections by remembering combinations of drum syllables, which, when placed within a rhythm, allow them to easily work out which parts of the percussive passage belongs to each instrument. Here, the same system has been used, where percussion is also denoted by words that signal a combination of instruments: "dei" signals the use of only the small gong; "qing" signals the use of only the cymbals; "tai" and "tong" signal the use of both the cymbals and the small gong on an accented beat, and "qi" signals the use of both instruments on an unaccented beat. The sigu is represented using the following terminology: "drrrrr" (an onomatopoeic representation of a drum roll), which signals a drum roll on the guban and lasts as long as the actor's movement relative to it; "da" and "ba" relate to the right and left drumstick being played by the sigu respectively.
11. Geng, Q.W., ed. Dang Ma [Stopping the Horse]. Beijing: Zhongguo Xiqu Xueyuan, 1991. Supplemented and modified by information from fieldwork research. Western notation by the author. [End Page 289]
Jiao Guangpu is the martial clown character in Stopping the Horse. He is a Chinese man (Han) trapped in the township of Liuye (Willow Leaf) in Mongolia, and is therefore an enemy of the Mongols. As he has no pass to cross the border back to China, he is unable to return home and works in an inn to avoid being discovered. Eventually, a female warrior (one of the Yang family generals sent on a spying mission to Mongolia) visits the inn where Jiao Guangpu is working. After much misunderstanding, the pair recognize that they are comrades. Jiao disguises himself as the general's groom (and therefore does not require a pass) and returns home to China.
12. For a detailed description of the different metres used in jingju see Wichmann (1991: 59–71).
13. For examples of both shulaibao and kuaibanshu, see Walls (1977: 60–91).
14. This piece may also be used by other role types, but the clown tends to use it the most often. For an explanation of the musical terminology used in Figure 5, see the explanation in note 10, above.
15. Wenchang is the Daoist god of literature, reported to live in the constellation Ursa Major or Kuixing in Chinese astrology (Stevens 2001: 16).
16. For a description of the fish woodblock in yueju, see Yung (1989: 24).
17. For a detailed explanation of pihuang, see Wichmann (1991: 53–54).
18. This information is derived from interviews between the author and a number of sigu.
19. The last four bars of Figure 6 are used as an entrance passage for the martial clown actor in the example of shu ban notated in Figure 3.
20. For an excellent analysis of traditional temple stages in the region of Jiangnan, see Wei (2004).
21. See Elliott (1990: 80–109).
22. The famous wu chou actor Zhang Chunhua recalls in his autobiography how he wanted to be a wu sheng (martial male) character, but had to play a clown role because he was too short (Zhao 1990: 18).
23. For a detailed analysis and contextualisation of the ways in which the clown can be classified as ugly, see Thorpe (2003: 157–232).
References
Birrell, Anne. 2000.
Chinese Myths. London: British Museum.
Chan, Ping-leung. 1972.
"Ch'u Tz'u and Shamanism in Ancient China." Ph.D. diss., University of Michigan, Ann Arbor.
Chan, Sau. 1991.
Improvisation in a Ritual Context: the Music of Cantonese Opera. Hong Kong: Chinese University Press. [End Page 290]
Chao Pian, Rulan. 1975.
"Aria Structural Patterns in the Peking Opera." In Chinese and Japanese Music-Dramas, ed. J. I. Crump and W. P. Malm. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press.
Chū Yūan. 1996.
Selected Poems of Chü Yuan, trans. Sun Dayū. Shanghai: Shanghai Foreign Language Education Press.
De Groot, Jan. 1910.
The Religious System of China, 6 vols. Leiden: E. J. Brill.
Deng, Gunghua. 1988.
"Nuo-Culture and Music: Traces of Chinese Primitive Music in Nuoyi and Nuoxi," Musical Performance 2(1): 41–51.
Elliott, Alan. 1990.
Chinese Spirit-Medium Cults in Singapore. London: Athlone.
Geng Qingwu, ed. 1991.
Dang Ma (Stopping the Horse). Beijing: Zhongguo Xiqu Xueyuan.
Fei, Faye Chunfang. ed. and trans. 1999.
Chinese Theories of Theater and Performance from Confucius to the Present. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press.
Huang Dianqi. 2001.
Zhongguo Xiqu Lianpu (Painted Faces in Traditional Chinese Opera). Beijing: Beijing gongyi meishu chubanshe.
Johnson, David, ed. 1989.
Ritual Opera, Operatic Ritual, "Mu-lien Rescues His Mother" in Chinese Popular Culture. Berkeley, CA: Chinese Popular Culture Project.
Kuttner, Fritz. 1969.
"The Development of the Concept of Music in China's Early History," Asian Music 1(2): 12–21.
Otto, Beatrice. 2001.
Fools are Everywhere: The Court Jester around the World. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Rees, Helen. 1996.
"Musical Assertion of Status Among the Naxi of Lijiang County, Yunnan. In Harmony and Counterpoint: Ritual Music in Chinese Context, ed. B.Yung, E. Rawski, and R. Watson. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press.
Riley, Josephine. 1997.
Chinese Theatre and the Actor in Performance. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Schipper, Kristofer. 1996.
"The Divine Jester: Some Remarks on the Gods of the Chinese Marionette Theater," Bulletin of the Institute of Ethnology: Academia Sinica 21: 81–96.
Scott, Adolphe Clarence. 1975.
Traditional Chinese Plays: Volume 3. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press. [End Page 291]
Shaugnessy. 2000.
China: The Land of the Heavenly Dragon. London: Duncan Baird Publishers.
Stevens, Keith. 2001.
Chinese Mythological Gods. Hong Kong: Oxford University Press.
Thorpe, Ashley. 2003.
"The Role of the Clown in Traditional Chinese Theatre," Ph.D. diss., University of London.
Tong, Kin Woon. 1983.
"Shang Musical Instruments," Asian Music 14(2): 17–171.
———. 1984a.
"Shang Musical Instruments," Asian Music 15(1): 103–163.
———. 1984b.
"Shang Musical Instruments," Asian Music 15(2): 67–143.
Tsao Pen-Yeh. 1989.
Taoist Ritual Music of the Yu-Lan Pen-Hui in a Hong Kong Taoist Temple. Hong Kong: Hai Feng.
Walls, Jan. 1977.
"Kuaibanshu: Elements of the Fast Clappertale," CHINOPERL 7: 60–91.
Wei Minghua. 2004.
Jiangnan Xitai (Traditional stages of Jiangnan). Shanghai: Shanghai shudian chubanshe.
Welsford, Enid. 1935.
The Fool and his Septer. London: Faber and Faber.
Wichmann, Elizabeth. 1991.
Listening to Theatre: the Aural Dimension of Beijing Opera. Honolulu: University of Hawai'i Press.
Yang Caoyuan and Tao Xiong, eds. 1981.
Zhongguo Xiqu Quyi Cidian (A dictionary of traditional and folk opera). Shanghai: Shanghai cishu chunbanshe.
Yung, Bell. 1989.
Cantonese Opera: Performance as Creative Process. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Zhao Xiaodong. 1990.
Wu Chou Zhang Chunhua (Wu chou actor Zhang Chun Hua). Beijing: Beijing yanshan chubanshe.
No comments:
Post a Comment