November 12, 2008
I visited Laoshe Teahouse, near Qianmen on a Wednesday afternoon. I purposely picked this afternoon because the Beijing Opera Lovers' Afternoon would be going on from 2:00pm-4:00pm. I had been in these teahouse the Sunday before and had scoped it out. I wanted to attend one of the evening performances but they had raised their ticket prices considerably. The cheapest ticket used to be RMB60 but now it is RMB180. I decided it would be worth it for me to go to a vaudeville-like variety show. I arrived at the teahouse around 2:30pm and am bombarded with questions by the doormen. I am not sure exactly what they are asking or telling me as they were using the Beijing dialect. While I was in the lobby, I heard some Beijng opera singing coming from the adjoining room but I couldn't figure out where or how I get in. The brochure said they had English speaking staff but that wasn't quite the case.
I decide to wander the floors of the teahouse. Depending on one's taste, it is either ornately or gaudily decorated. The walls are lined with pictures of all the dignitaries they have hosted. The second floor has a tea shop and also a gift shop, along with displays of opera costumes. I observe that the prices of the gift shop are unreasonable, given that one could pick up the same souvenirs for a fraction of the price at Qianmen. There were several miniature versions of the costumes on sale for exorbitant prices of several thousand yuan. The place is rather empty except for one wandering (lost) person: me.
I proceed to the top floor and there are several tea rooms. I stumble upon the other afternoon performance program at the main performance room. I walk in and stand there for sometime, but none of the attendants ask whether I'm here to see the show. I saw part of a puppet show and shadowplay being performed. I would have loved to sit down somewhere but I did not want to be overcharged for tea. I was not sure whether I had to seat myself or be seated. I resort to standing at the doorway and watched part of the shadowplay. I observe that most of the people who are presently watching the performance are all foreigners. It was too quiet of a crowd and I felt rather uncomfortable because this is not the norm for watching such performances. I decide to brave it and proceed back to the lower floor. I would try and figure out how to get to the opera lovers' afternoon. I manage to talk to the receptionists there and figure out all I had to pay for RMB10 for entrance and a cup of tea. When I walk in, I am again totally out of my element. I think I'm the only one who is below 30 in the room. All the people were sitting around round table, talking and drinking tea. Obviously, they were regulars at this event and know each other very well. There is not a spot in the room that is open except the front table. The waiter, sensing my apprehension, finally lets me sit up in the balcony by myself. I quite enjoy my vantage point because I could now be the silent, unseen observer of the event. The audience behavior is as expected for a Chinese opera performance. While the amateurs sing their hearts out on stage, the rest are happily talking away, drinking jasmine tea and eating melon seeds. The singing is occasionally interrupted by clapping and shouts of acknowledgement from the audience. The audience participates in the performance in this manner. It is also not rude to walk in and out while there is singing. I also notice the accompanying musicians are not all completely masters of the repertoire. One person in the jinghu or erhu group was definitely the leader. He knew most of the tunes by heart. The rest of them had score books they were playing out of.
I am very glad to observe this afternoon as many of these traditions are dying in Beijing. I find it very odd that the Beijing general audience doesn't quite know how to observe concert etiquette for both Western classical performances and Chinese classical performances like this one. I am not sure whether there is a middle ground and whether the middle is where the Beijingers are. If I was a Beijing opera performer, I would be disheartened to perform to a silent crowd. On the other hand, when I perform on the piano, I am distracted by a noisy audience. Maybe I wasn't the most polite and cultured guest this afternoon, as I was quiet, too quiet.
I visited Laoshe Teahouse, near Qianmen on a Wednesday afternoon. I purposely picked this afternoon because the Beijing Opera Lovers' Afternoon would be going on from 2:00pm-4:00pm. I had been in these teahouse the Sunday before and had scoped it out. I wanted to attend one of the evening performances but they had raised their ticket prices considerably. The cheapest ticket used to be RMB60 but now it is RMB180. I decided it would be worth it for me to go to a vaudeville-like variety show. I arrived at the teahouse around 2:30pm and am bombarded with questions by the doormen. I am not sure exactly what they are asking or telling me as they were using the Beijing dialect. While I was in the lobby, I heard some Beijng opera singing coming from the adjoining room but I couldn't figure out where or how I get in. The brochure said they had English speaking staff but that wasn't quite the case. 
I decide to wander the floors of the teahouse. Depending on one's taste, it is either ornately or gaudily decorated. The walls are lined with pictures of all the dignitaries they have hosted. The second floor has a tea shop and also a gift shop, along with displays of opera costumes. I observe that the prices of the gift shop are unreasonable, given that one could pick up the same souvenirs for a fraction of the price at Qianmen. There were several miniature versions of the costumes on sale for exorbitant prices of several thousand yuan. The place is rather empty except for one wandering (lost) person: me. 
I proceed to the top floor and there are several tea rooms. I stumble upon the other afternoon performance program at the main performance room. I walk in and stand there for sometime, but none of the attendants ask whether I'm here to see the show. I saw part of a puppet show and shadowplay being performed. I would have loved to sit down somewhere but I did not want to be overcharged for tea. I was not sure whether I had to seat myself or be seated. I resort to standing at the doorway and watched part of the shadowplay. I observe that most of the people who are presently watching the performance are all foreigners. It was too quiet of a crowd and I felt rather uncomfortable because this is not the norm for watching such performances. I decide to brave it and proceed back to the lower floor. I would try and figure out how to get to the opera lovers' afternoon. I manage to talk to the receptionists there and figure out all I had to pay for RMB10 for entrance and a cup of tea. When I walk in, I am again totally out of my element. I think I'm the only one who is below 30 in the room. All the people were sitting around round table, talking and drinking tea. Obviously, they were regulars at this event and know each other very well. There is not a spot in the room that is open except the front table. The waiter, sensing my apprehension, finally lets me sit up in the balcony by myself. I quite enjoy my vantage point because I could now be the silent, unseen observer of the event. The audience behavior is as expected for a Chinese opera performance. While the amateurs sing their hearts out on stage, the rest are happily talking away, drinking jasmine tea and eating melon seeds. The singing is occasionally interrupted by clapping and shouts of acknowledgement from the audience. The audience participates in the performance in this manner. It is also not rude to walk in and out while there is singing. I also notice the accompanying musicians are not all completely masters of the repertoire. One person in the jinghu or erhu group was definitely the leader. He knew most of the tunes by heart. The rest of them had score books they were playing out of. 
I am very glad to observe this afternoon as many of these traditions are dying in Beijing. I find it very odd that the Beijing general audience doesn't quite know how to observe concert etiquette for both Western classical performances and Chinese classical performances like this one. I am not sure whether there is a middle ground and whether the middle is where the Beijingers are. If I was a Beijing opera performer, I would be disheartened to perform to a silent crowd. On the other hand, when I perform on the piano, I am distracted by a noisy audience. Maybe I wasn't the most polite and cultured guest this afternoon, as I was quiet, too quiet.
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