August Phoenix Mercantile

You may remember me from certain medieval societies as Lao Tao-sheng – “Old One, Born to Tell Tales.”

Once upon a time I presented a “One Monkey Show” – a seven hour solo presentation of the first seven stories from “The Journey to the West” at a medieval event called Ducal War, at a park somewhere in Oregon, on a weekend in August in either 1983 or 1985, depending on how you remember time…

These are photos from that original show, forwarded to me by Rich Edwards. It was just over 100 degrees in the park that day, and for the first half of the show, I was wearing every layer that you see here. I remember taking off the brown coat to expose the leather scale costume armor, and just standing for a minute with my arms extended, waiting to cool down…

A few months after presenting this work, I was invited by a couple of friends to recreate my performance for public access TV in Longview. We spent an afternoon taping the first half of the show, but I never returned to tape the second half. As far as I knew, the first set of tapes never aired, and after a few years I had forgotten entirely about that day. Life events prompted me to retire from performing in 1993.

And then, on June 1, 2021, a package arrived in the mail:

Hi Heather,

After watching your interview with The Sisters [a regular feature on Facebook], I was surprised to hear that there were no other films of your storytelling performances. I decided it was past time to see if I could get what I had of the Monkey Tales into readily viewable form. When KJTV converted to digital, Gary saw they were disposing of old VCR tapes. He grabbed what he could find of the tapes from our Monkey sessions and got them to Leslie and I. There was one mix tape that was aired, so it had wear, as well as original camera tapes. I asked Noah if he could use his contacts and film knowledge to save these and put them into a form that will last better.

He had them transferred to digital and did some cleanup…You can tell that there is some age involved, and that we were rookies as far as filming a performance is concerned. Noah did a great job of cleaning up the small technical issues…I wanted to make sure you had copies of some of the fantastic work you did and could let others see a sample of it…

I hope this brings you joy.

Max Slape (Master Cormac of Caermont)

The discovery of these tapes gave me the impetus to shake the dust from the notes I had collected while preparing these stories, which culminated in the solo show which took about a year and a half to prepare. You can read that six-part series here.

Here are a couple of teasers, courtesy of film editor guru, Noah Hale:

And as they say, “without further ado”

I invite you to my August Phoenix Rising Event

“The Tales of Monkey” – as performed by Heather Daveno

Live Streamed from YouTube

and simulcast on The Sisters Interview on Facebook

starting at 2 PM on Sunday, August 22, 2021

Click on the YouTubes below, and thank you for helping me celebrate this premier!

[Heather] in the persona of Lao Tao-sheng, is a performing artist specializing in the authentic re-creation of the fold tales of medieval China and Mongolia. Years of study and personal training have developed Lao into a historically accurate example of the street storyteller who was the forerunner of the modern day Peking Opera.

Of her repertoire, the Tales of the Monkey King are the most well known and most often requested. The tales are taken from a classic entitled “Journey to the West,” an allegory based on the travels of a 6th century monk. During the performing of these tales, Lao plays many characters — dragons, ogres, generals, patriarchs — and most famously, the Monkey King. Wielding his iron staff, riding upon magic clouds, he wreaks havoc and defies those who would doubt his importance…

“…[She] brings Monkey to life with an authentic Chinese costume, makeup, a big fancy fan and her voice. With a few props and a painted backdrop, [she] plays all the parts. She undulates like a curtain of water, chatters like a passel of monkeys and parries with a ‘golden’ spear.

But mostly she’s the Stone Monkey…

The Daily News – Longview, Washington

This is Part VI of a series of articles that is part theater history, part personal retrospect, from a time long ago when I was known in medieval society as Lao Tao-sheng – “Old One, Born to Tell Tales.” My own story started with performances of Waley’s “Monkey” at medieval themed feasts, and culminated in a “One Monkey Show” – a solo presentation of the first seven stories from “The Journey to the West” over the course of seven hours, one August day circa 1983-85 (memory fails as to the exact date). A synopsis of my resume is included in Part I of this series. Text in bold indicate research notes that I applied to my performances. My personal comments are in italics where I need to differentiate them from my research.

You will recall from the previous segment that costume was specific to the character rather than the play. Makeup followed the same rules though face paint was used sparingly until the 15th century, at which point it became codified for the Peking (now Beijing) opera.

In the earliest periods, masks were used (possibly stemming from those worn by monks during religious rituals). Warrior-roles might have used wooden masks, beasts and demons might use paper ones. Masks were ‘in harmony’ with the whole character and helped define the actor’s role. Masks followed the same system of color symbolism as the costume, and always matched what the actor was wearing. Some masks emphasized features or expressions of a specific role, others transformed the actor’s face into a symbol, like a cloud to signify ‘the god of the clouds’, or a beast or demon.

Show at left is one of my earliest performances of the Monkey King. I was wearing mostly Tibetan clothing at the time, and a stylized mask instead of face paint.

Makeup was used sparingly in early medieval drama. (I assume that theater makeup evolved from the cosmetics used by women of the period, descriptions of which follow.) Face powder was made from chalk or ground rice (dating to 770-476 BCE) or lead. Rouge was made from extracting the juice from red and blue flowers and mixing it with rice powder (Shang Dynasty). Lips were colored with vermillion mixed with mineral wax and animal fat. Eyebrows were darkened with sticks of charcoal made from willow tree, or dai – a blue mineral that was ground to a powder and mixed with water.

During the T’ang Dynasty, the glittery mendhi-style accent in the middle of the forehead may have been a ‘huadian’ made from foil paper, fish scale or dragonfly wings.

Once face paint gained more common usage for Chinese theater (I believe closer to the 16th-17th centuries), it also became exaggerated and very stylized. Eyebrows were the first part of an actor’s face that were enhanced. Rising to a slant at the outer end gave the impression of firmness, courage and determination. Later on, face paint progressed to to use around the eyes, nostrils and the corners of the mouth.

• Simple Face used one color predominated and only the eyebrows were augmented.
• Old Face was painted in grey or a sickly pink, with only the eyebrows augmented, with the ends being drawn down at the temples.
• Shattered Face was used to denote an evil man, bandit, traitor or someone who was injured. It consisted of colored curves, lines and spirals, with the nose or an eye distorted by an angle of painted lines.
• Three Brick Mask was one of the oldest styles. A stripe was painted above the eyebrows and across the eyes to divide the face in half horizontally, and then another line was painted vertically down the nose and mouth. This style was made more complicated later by painting designs onto the plain colored backgrounds.
• Scholars, ministers and young heroes had white faces with a touch of pink in the middle of the brow (which I think was an adaptation of women’s court makeup from the T’ang Dynasty).
• Women’s roles used pale pink foundation, with peony pink on their cheeks and around their eyes, extending up to their brows. It was further stylized by high arched eyebrows and slanting corners to the eyes. (This style would become a favorite of mine for a few other ‘roles’.)

Color schemes

• A white face with no other color could denote cruelty, or a dignified villain. A square or oblong painted in the center of the face denoted a comic who was cunning but not necessarily bad.
• A solid black face could denote an evil person, or one who ruled by the iron law of state rather than by personal interest.
• A combination of black and white denoted a warrior.
• A red face denoted a hero, military commander, or other courageous man
• Brown and purple were incorporated into the faces of educated officials and roles who possessed strength and courage but who could not always outwardly demonstrate it.
• Blue could indicate a role that was uncultured, rough, or possibly cruel
• Yellow or gold was often used to depict gods or supernatural characters
• Green depicted devils and demons

I include beards here because I consider them part of makeup rather than costume. They hung on a wire supported by the actor’s ears and rested on the upper lip. They were never adhered to an actor’s face during the medieval period.

A waist-length beard was a sign of prosperity, wealth, courage and strength. Narrow whiskers hanging in three strands from both ears and the chin signified a married man. A thick, short beard indicated a rough, self-indulgent man.

Although I was presenting a 16th century text, I was doing so as a 13th century storyteller. I patterned my face paint after the Golden Monkey (Rhinopithecus roxellanae, shown below), with its blue face and long red hair, a now endangered species native to the mountain forests of Sichuan province, upon whom I surmised the fabled Monkey King might be based.

By this time in my storytelling career, I was gifted frequently with Monkey King and Chinese Opera related treasures. I even remember decorating a Christmas tree one year in miniature opera masks and trinkets of jade…

Resources I used in the writing of this chapter include:

• The Classical Theatre of China by A.C. Scott, Greenwood Press Publishers, Westport, Connecticut, 1957
• Chinese Theater by Kalvodova Si s-Vanis, Spring Books, London, 1957
• China Daily, Cao Chen staff writer, April 21, 2018

…There was on top of that very mountain an immortal stone, which measured thirty-six feet and five inches in height and twenty-four feet in circumference… Since the creation of the world, it had been nourished by the seeds of Heaven and Earth and by the essences of the sun and the moon, until, quickened by divine inspiration, it became pregnant and gave birth to a stone egg, which was transformed into a Stone Monkey…

This is Part V of a series of articles that is part theater history, part personal retrospect, from a time long ago when I was known in medieval society as Lao Tao-sheng – “Old One, Born to Tell Tales.” My own story started with performances of Waley’s “Monkey” at medieval themed feasts, and culminated in a “One Monkey Show” – a solo presentation of the first seven stories from “The Journey to the West” over the course of seven hours, one August day circa 1983-85 (memory fails as to the exact date). A synopsis of my resume is included in Part I of this series. Text in bold indicate research notes that I applied to my performances. My personal comments are in italics where I need to differentiate them from my research.

Although I did not incorporate music in most of my performances, I include this section because musicians and their instruments played a vital role in Chinese dramas since the earliest of times. Dance would also become an integral part of modern day Chinese opera, and would influence many of its classic movements.

Voice and Song

In European opera, voice and language are treated as an instrument. It is no different in Chinese theater. Spoken language of an ‘every day’ type marked the common characters such as servants and comic characters. Formal Chinese was used for narration, where every word needed to be emotionally distinct. Spoken passages were governed by rhythm and tempo, and pace was maintained by drawing out syllables without regard to conversational norms. Where there were arias, they were sung in verse. Songs and melodies were handed down for generations and were not rewritten for specific plays. A melody might just as easily express love as much as tragedy.

Songs in Northern dramas were accompanied by lute and other stringed instruments. They adopted a 7 tone scale that accompanied dialog that was based on every day speech. Overall vocals and instrumentals were vigorous and lively. In the South, a flute was the instrument of choice, lending soft and gentle tones on a 5 tone scale which accompanied dialog that has been described as “esoteric with scholarly illusions.”

The song that I open my One Monkey Show is text from “The Journey to the West” that (I think) I set to the melody of a Chinese folk song. For the second song, I used a pocket dictionary to translate the English back into Chinese, to see if the rhyme had been maintained. I was thrilled to discover that it had. I set that lyric to a folk song although I cannot remember the name of it, or its exact source. I believe it may have been a video I borrowed from the library, because I remember playing it over and over until I learned the tune.

Dance

Variety acts dating back to the Han Dynasty would continue for several centuries, and by the T’ang Dynasty would include storytelling, puppetry, and wrestling in addition to the early forms of song and dance dramas. Dance was so popular that the distinct forms have been documented through paintings and statuary of the period.

There is a well documented dance from dating to at least the T’ang Dynasty called the “Scarf Dance” which has been preserved in both folk and opera dances. The silk was a strip seven meters long, and at one point the dancer would flick it above the heads of the audience, where it floated while the dancer continued their dance before retrieving the silk. Another dance move that was highly documented was the pirouette, which was considered such a staple that the move was called “wuxuan” which translates to “to dance wheeling.”

Sabre dancers date back to the Han Dynasty and evolved from martial arts into components of some dance dramas. There were also forms of “martial” dance performed by groups of men portraying armies in combat. Flower Drum Dance dates back to the Song Dynasty and remains a popular dance in modern day China. Lion Dance dates back to the T’ang Dynasty, where it cleared the pathway of both physical people, and evil spirits, ahead of a statue of Buddha as it was carried through the streets during religious festivals.

During the T’ang Dynasty, song and dance would continue to meld and become a principal entertainment at court. Simple plot lines would be replaced by the more complex dramas written by poets and would lay the stage for traditional Chinese opera.

By the Yuan and Ming Dynasties, audiences started to demand art forms that showed the harshness of life as well as the poetic ideals of the previous dynasties. As the newly emerging opera forms continued to develop, song and dance continued to be incorporated as ways to further express the plot. Dance movements would become choreography and influence gestures and postures that would become codified in Beijing Opera.

The Instruments

Dance would not be viewed as a separate art form by the Ming Dynasty, but would become part of the training regimen for opera artists. That training would also include instruction in stringed instruments such as zither, pipa, tiqin and zianxi; as well as drums, pipes and other wind instruments. An understanding of music was considered imperative before an actor could learn the dances and acting roles.

In “The T’ang Emperor Ming Huang Tours the Palace on the Moon” …a clap of thinder and the black curtain is suddenl drawn back to reveal the round orbo of a moon, multi-coloured couds of dyed wool everywhere. In the middle sits the white rabbit grinding medicine in a mortar. Veiled in thin silk cloth, several lamps are lit inside as bright as the moon. The colour is bluish like early dawn. Cloth is strung here and there to form hills and caves, a magical realm – you forget it is a play…

Dance in Traditional Opera from “The History of Chinese Dance”

In Chinese dramas, gongs and cymbals would start the overture and signal the beginning of the play. An actor would introduce the play to the audience via a series of four-line stanzas – a thing that evolved from the street storytellers who always began their story with a short rhythm that outlined the coming story. The actor would introduce the most important characters, divulging their names and their stories. And then the play would begin.

Musicians were seated on stage in plain view of the audience, but to one side, so they could see the actors and follow their lead. Instruments such as drums, gongs and clappers provided rhythmic background.

During the play, trumpets heralded happy meetings, victories and good news. Songs were accompanied by flute (in the South) and lute (in the North). There were stringed instrument like a violin, held vertically against the knee. Plucked instruments included guitar. Lyric scenes were played to a background of “cloud” gong chimes. Drums signaled battle scenes and tragic turning points.

Post Script

My interest in Chinese performing arts continued long after I stopped performing in the 1990s. In 2002, Yo Yo Ma brought his “Silk Road Project” to Benaroya Hall in Seattle. The program was extensive and I only saw small portions of it, which unfortunately did not include any of the concerts. Ma brought together “an array of musicians from several countries to explore not only their traditional music, but also ideals for future collaborations.”

“…The transfer of such innovations as gunpowder…the printing press, silk…ceramic and lacquer crafts were only part of the story; musical instruments, forms and techniques, too, moved along the Silk Road. Lutes from India and Persia developed as close relatives; cymbals were introduced into China from India, and Chinese gongs journeyed to Europe..”

Materials I referenced for this segment include:

• The Classical Theatre of China by A.C. Scott, Greenwood Press Publishers, Westport, Connecticut, 1957
• Chinese Theater by Kalvodova Si s-Vanis, Spring Books, London, 1957
• The History of Chinese Dance by Wang Kefen, Foreign Languages Press, Beijing, 1985
• Asian Traditional Theater and Dance
• “The Silk Road Project” by Melinda Bargreen, Seattle Times music critic, May 5, 2002