"Everything Has Beauty But Not Everyone Sees It"
Tang Shiyi. Photo: Liu Haidong. |
I tried hard
to count how many dancers appear in Confucius, the visually beautiful, dramatically
stultifying dance drama now enjoying a four-performance visit at the David H.
Koch Theater. I did this because the 90-minute piece itself gives you very
little else to think about as it tells the story of Confucius, described in the
subtitle as “teacher, philosopher, man who shaped a nation.” My reaction was much like the title of this review, taken from the master himself: I acknowledge the show's beauty but I couldn't always see it.
Confucius. Photo: Liu Haidong. |
Confucius. Photo: Liu Haidong. |
Performed against
an impressive setting (designed and brilliantly lit by Ren Dongsheng) dominated
by huge bamboo strips covered with Confucius’s writings, the production resembles
an expensive Hallmark greeting card vision of ancient China. Hordes of
perfectly coordinated choral dancers swirl about while swathed in designer Yang
Donglin’s gorgeous reimaginings of long-sleeved ancient garments, designed with
yards of silky, billowing fabric for maximum effect, as prerecorded music
(uncredited), now stirringly martial, now lushly romantic, booms forth
continuously (and loudly).
Hu Yang. Photo: Liu Haidong. |
The show premiered
in Beijing in 2013, a product of the state-supported China National Opera &
Dance Drama Theater, and has been presented internationally. Directed and
choreographed by Kong Dexin, billed as “a 77th-generation direct descendant of
Confucius” (which apparently allows her the longest curtain call), it has a
wordless scenario by Liu Chun that dramatizes the difficulties experienced by the
title character, who lived during the Zhou Dynasty and died in 479 B.C. Widely
revered but sometimes reviled (especially during the Cultural Revolution), Confucius’s
ideas on harmony and benevolence continue to resonate in Communist China as a
buffer to Western liberalism.
Confucius. Photo: Liu Haidong. |
Confucius’s six scene divisions are
communicated via video titles (which include a few grammatical errors) on large
side screens, but the information (Prelude: Inquiry; Act I: The Chaotic Time; Act
II: Out of Food; Act III: Great Harmony: Act IV: Mourning for Benevolence; and
Epilogue: Happiness) is less helpful than a fortune cookie message. More
substance is provided by the occasional quotes, most of them cryptic, but some familiar, that
flash by accompanied by a note on what tome they first appeared in. It’s
hard for the uninitiated to know what to do with comments like: “Collapse of
etiquette, Loss of benevolence,” or “In the morning hear the way, In the
evening die content,” to cite two of the shorter ones. Words like “Incensing,” “Remonstration,”
and “Rebellion” occasionally appear to give some idea of what the following
scene is about, but essentially you’re on your own (unless you read the program
synopsis) in a tale whose telling is largely free of dramatic development, with each scene's emotional level much the same as the one before and after.
Hu Yang. Photo: Liu Haidong. |
The music—sounding
like a big-screen sound track combining Western-style music with Asian touches—supports
exceptionally well-performed choreography that is predominantly ballet-based but has many attitudes clearly derived from traditional Chinese theatre. Supplemented by remarkably acrobatic leaps, somersaults, pirouettes, and cartwheels, the abundant physical activity enacts a
narrative that fails to clarify who, aside from Confucius (Hu Yang) himself, the other personages are, what they're doing, or why we should care.
Hu Yang. Photo: Liu Haidong. |
The handful of “characters”—as opposed to
swarms of identically costumed concubines, soldiers, courtiers, or peasants—are
identified as “Concubine” (Tang Shiyi), “Minister” (Guo Haifeng), Duke (Zhu
Yin), “Eunuch” (Xing Yan), and “Confucius’s Apprentices” (Yang Tianyuan, Hou
Meng).
Confucius. Photo: Liu Haidong. |
Hu Yang’s
Confucius is a slender, bearded, dashing hero, with many opportunities to
display his athletic virtuosity, including a flamboyant sword dance whose
presence even my companion, a Chinese scholar, couldn’t explain. The standout
performance is the exceptionally lithe, almost butterfly-like Tang Shiyi, whose
ability to spin in place would make any champion figure skater jealous.
Confucius. Photo: Liu Haidong. |
I began by
saying I occupied some of my time trying to count the performers. Judging by
the program, which lists 47, I was off by only one or two. Interestingly, Confucius will be followed at the Koch on
January 11 by Shen Yun, a competitor
in the world of spectacular dance productions set in ancient China. With its New
York-based performers being followers of the persecuted Falun Dafa/Falun Gong movement,
it suggests a political as well as artistic rivalry. Hopefully, there will be
more to hold one’s interest than visual prettiness and the company’s size.
Tang Shiyi. Photo: Liu Haidong. |
David H.
Koch Theater at Lincoln Center
Through
January 8