Culture

I've been to China twice.  And I was fairly certain I'd consumed my lifetime supply of Chinese opera.  Yet last night, I found myself at the Chinese Garden, wine glass in hand, strategically choosing a seat by the lake in order to occupy my mind with fish-watching, if necessary. 

It was a beautiful spring night. The air was infused with the scent of gardenia. And a great blue heron was perched on the peak of the pagoda in the center of the lake.  Even though his visit had a nefarious purpose -- a dinner of young orange koi -- he was celebrated for bringing an auspiciousness to the occasion.

As the music began, the sound was just as I remembered. The resonance of the voices and instruments was incredibly high pitched with no bass support.  The rhythm had a certain strength, yet was ever-changing and unsettling.  And to my western-trained ears, the undefinable melody simply never resolved, making it difficult to relate to the music.  It was, quite simply, foreign.

So I focused on the view. I watched the fish swish their thin feather-like tails to create rippled reflections of curved slate roofs and green manicured trees.  I noticed how the intricately repetitive patterns in the wood carved window frames stood out against the abstract otherworldly qualities of the Taihu stone edging the water.

And that's when my eyes began to help my ears understand how this music actually suits the Chinese construction of place and space.  I could hear the swishes and the ripples, the repetition and the anarchy. And I could perceive why the music feels so ungrounded.  For the truly important forms and shapes in the garden stand above the ground, and mainly above our heads.

Even though I didn't recognize a thing that was going on, and I didn't enjoy the sound as a pleasurable experience, and it's quite possible I've completely misunderstood it all, it was fascinating to receive an idea about how culture and place might be truly interconnected.

And in the end, it was satisfying to know that this brave artistic effort was applauded and appreciated, when two women who were simply over the moon about the performance leaped to their feet calling out "one more, one more" in Chinese.  Their enthusiasm was obliged with not one, but three more.