Intro: What does an actor/actress look like when off-stage in the real world? The human drama goes on beyond the curtain fall. In this piece, OHMA student Yiling (Nina) Zhou draws from an interview she conducted studying the history of Cantonese Opera in Canada and reflects on her oral history project. This approach was inspired by the recent OHMA workshop with Nikki Yeboah, whose oral history performance project, “The (M)others, explores the stories of four women who lost their loved ones to police brutality. Her process of theatre-making shows an empowering way in storytelling of women.
Since its debut in September, I have seen numerous social media threads debating feminism and cultural authenticity of the Disney live-action-film Mulan. I am happy to see the increasingly positive Asian representation in Hollywood, but the ambivalence of many reflections directs my thoughts towards the story’s original text, the Ballad of Mulan. Folklore as an oral tradition occupies a powerful place in Chinese literature, and the Ballad of Mulan is a widely popular favorite, so is for me. The story of Mulan transcends time and space to become a paradigmatic, thought-provoking source of women empowerment. But the epicness of Mulan fits into a ubiquitous formula in depicting success, in a masculine setting of war - the story has been defined intentionally and ignores whole sites (traditionally women’s places) of struggle and perseverance, to make it stand out in history in a way that cannot be easily duplicated. Unfortunately, most women’s voices never left an imprint in history and just went hidden under the sea. They didn’t become folklore, let alone big-screen adaptations.
I love hearing stories from women, especially those which intersect with migration, arts, and identities associated with Chinese Canadian community, but my respect for Chinese Canadian women who were active in Toronto Chinatown in the early 20th century grew extensively as I conducted interviews with their descendants. I have always wanted to translate my interest into more widespread celebration, yet I have not known about an engaging way to fulfill it. So how can we tell stories of women in an effective, empathetic, and perhaps even epic way?
In a conversation with Arlene Chan in summer 2018, for example, the Chinatown historian and writer recalled her mother Jean Lumb’s life histories as a Chinatown community activist, in the Chinese Exclusion era in 20th century . Jean’s dedication to facilitate the changing of Canada’s discriminatory immigration laws against Chinese immigrants, effort in helping Chinese families reunite, along with other community work, made her the first Chinese Canadian female recipient of the Order of Canada. In addition to Jean’s honors, I am also interested in delving into the more subtle sphere of historical memories of Chinatown women.
Photo of V.J Day celebration parade in Toronto in 1945. Jean Lumb (5th from right) with others in Chinese opera costumes stand on the parade float of the Chinese Dramatic Society. The banner on the truck prints”木蘭從軍“, which is a Cantonese Opera adaption of Mulan who disguised as a boy to join the army. Next to it, “Mok Lan” is the Cantonese romanization of Mulan. (Photo credit: Toronto Public Library - Chinese Canadian Archive)
Arlene also told me about the Chinese Dramatic Society’s active participation in fundraising for war relief, when Canada fought the World War II with the Allies. It was a critical turning point for Chinese community to receive recognition from outside its circle, the mainstream Canadian society.
Look at the photo of the 1945 Chinatown’s V-J Day parade. People flocked to Chinatown and joined the celebration parade with a line of elaborate floats. Members of the Chinese Dramatic Society dressed in traditional costumes, holding flag or spears as they reconstructed the scene of Mulan’s triumphant return in the play version of the Ballad. The Chinese character on the banner means “Mulan joined the army”. I found the parallel fascinating when the cultural connotation of Mulan coincided with the dedicated women in Chinatown. Women could play Mulan on the float or stage, and be Mulan themselves in real life. In this sense, they were performers of canonical Chinese theatre; moreover, their own life stories illuminate possibility to broaden the repertoire. In the spirit of feminism, how can I embody their stories into an oral history theatre for the next generations to model?
The script of Professor Yeboah’s The(M)others came from verbatim excerpts from her interviews with Bay-Area mothers who lost their loved ones to police brutality. Just as Nikki could not interview the sons or husbands who were killed, I cannot talk directly to women who were generations apart from me and who are already gone; I learned the stories of these historical figures only from their families. Still, these sidelong narratives help me imagine and navigate the world of the stories, creating shot sequences in my mind. Here’s an excerpt from the interview I had with Arlene, Jean’s daughter:
Transcript
Arlene: Oh my first experience with Cantonese Opera would have been when I was very young, and I just have — because I grew up in Chinatown, in Toronto’s Chinatown, here, my parents had a restaurant called Kwong Chow Restaurant, which was on Elizabeth and Dundas Street. And right across the street was the Ship Toy Yuen, which is one of the longest-running Cantonese Opera society in Toronto. And so my mother used to take us across the street on a regular basis because of of my parents were involved in Cantonese Opera when they first got married — they got married in 1939, and my father even before that. So we used to go across the street and I remember going up the stairs cuz it was kind of we got on the second level. And we all see these instruments, and people would be practicing their singing. But we — um — when we were kids, we — my mother was very big on Chinese culture, so music, and then we learned a lot of Chinese dances when we were kids. So we used to go across the street and learn some Chinese dances and then also my mother would go there just to support the music association. So that we go back to probably when I was 10 years old, as young as 10 years old. Before that, I mean — I went to dance lessons and everything when I was a kid: tap dance, ballet, before that. But it was around — when I was in age 10 we started to learn Chinese dances so we used to go across the street to Ship Toy Yuen on a regular basis. So that’s my earliest memory of Cantonese Opera.
In this audio clip, Arlene’s words give an immersion of how Chinatown's life looked like, through the eyes of a 10-year-old girl. The family-owned restaurant, her mother’s involvement in community cultural activities, her childhood memory walking across the streets in Chinatown, are important sensation and elements for writing script for an oral history theatre. The smell of Chop Suey, mix of musical instrument sound, the beautiful ribbons and costumes, never fade in her memory. Arlene’s narration also conjures for the audience an embodiment of Jean even if they can’t hear her direct words. Outside the theatrical world, the human drama beyond the stage, and beyond the curtain fall goes on forever. As I listen to Arlene, I am moving across time and space with her, piecing life montages together, and broadening the stories. I myself, might also become part of it, when someone in the future came across this memory through an oral history theatre.
Inspired by what she learned from Professor Yeboah’s feminist approach in making oral history theatre, Yiling is reflecting on similar theatre-making as public engagement for her own project, not exclusive to other media forms. For those who are obsessed with the history of Toronto Chinatown, she also recommends Arlene Chan’s publications and City of Toronto Archives - Chinese History in Toronto.