After the dragons cleared the stage at the Chinese Cultural Festival. The next bit was what was described as a display of fashion popular among (obviously rich) women in Shanghai in the 1920s. My only visit to that city was 80-something years later and there weren't nobody looking like this. The discs or fans were gauzy and the women were doing a peek-a-boo thing with them. Strange.
So the dragon we saw yesterday was headed under the canopy of the botanical garden's amphitheater. I never dreamed that dragons were so loose-jointed. But as far as fierceness goes, they are more flash than substance.
I suppose most of us have witnessed, or at least seen pictures of, a Chinese dragon on parade. Many people hold segments on poles, creating a perfect undulating movement, peaks and valleys of slither.
I didn't set up this shot on purpose. The action was much too fast for my moderate skills. But when I saw this picture on the computer screen I was struck by the strong geometry, something I've been taught to notice by hundreds of explanatory cards next to images in museums. It may or may not do anything for you.
It wasn't too hard to find on the Web. The instrument is called a ruan, characterized by four strings and big tuning pegs with a circular body. They come in different sizes ranging from soprano to bass. I guess you would call this one a tenor.
This couple represented the empress and emperor of China, as best I could tell. They look relatively benevolent but that beaded headgear on him is something else. It reminds me a bit of the gauzy veils with small beads that women like my mother used to wear with their hats for fancy occasions in the 50s.
Well, that's what we were told it was. I've been to lots of Western operas and a couple by Japanese composers (including one based on a Noh play, which was a tough sit) but nothing that gave me a grip on this music.It was performed with passion, though.
