George H.W. Bush and Opera?

By Ashley Fetyko
July 18 2008

When I was about four years old, my love was divided between two very odd interests for a child: George H.W. Bush, and opera. I would stare at the television for hours whenever I saw either one, and "normal" little-kid things weren't nearly as fascinating. I drifted from my love of each as I grew, and it took until our experience at the Peking Opera to rediscover the love I once felt for the more beautiful interest of the two (though H.W. is arguably more attractive than W.).

We saw "The Marriage Between the Dragon and the Phoenix" at the Chang'an Theater after a very full day. After having witnessed the most beautiful place I've ever seen (The Summer Palace), and avoiding heat stroke at the Winter Palace, I wasn't entirely sure that I was ready to enjoy an opera. I was tired and pretty certain that nothing could outdo the Summer Palace. I was wrong. My four-year-old self resurfaced as I witnessed a grand spectacle of costume, song, dance, and drama. I was riveted and couldn't wait to see what happened next.

As with everything here, there was a language barrier. There were English subtitles to the side of the stage, but from my seat I had to struggle to read them. I relied mostly on the characters' feelings and faces to determine what was happening. Surprisingly, I understood what was happening for the most part. Everything was dramatic and aesthetically intense. Costumes and makeup were ornate and intentional, and sets were colorful and vivid.

The music and voices were unlike anything I've ever heard before, and I was fascinated and impressed. I was most interested in the bride of the story, Sun Shangxiang. Her voice was cartoon-like and high, but she was fascinated by weaponry and fighting. The shrillness of her voice seemed to belie her strength, and despite the language barriers, I understood her character. It was easy to sense when something was funny, and I found myself laughing with the Chinese people sitting around me.

There was an older couple sitting a few seats away from me, and they seemed as happy as I was to be there. At the end of the opera, they came up to me and said a few things and smiled. I couldn't respond, but they seemed glad to see that I'd enjoyed myself.

It's amazing to experience a connection with people who speak another language. Some things are universal, and at the end of a very long day, it's so important to remember that.

Who knows? Maybe I'll fall in love with George Bush again by the end of the trip. I'll keep you posted.