Martial Arts Master
My husband has been playing for this show called “Monkey: A Modern Beijing Opera.” It features two violinists, smoke machines and space age outfits. Last week, I finally got to see this mysterious production. I had no idea what it would be like because when my husband practices it, he listens to the music through the headphones. I knew he had to sing backing vocals though. Sometimes when he was practicing, I’d hear him sing, “Martial arts master,” or “Monkey, monkey,” or just laughing crazily. I love to see any concert that he has to sing in.
I like to go to concerts to see what kind of people attend these events. This concert was in a tiny theater designed by very short people. The seats were so close together that even my knees hit the back of the seat in front of me. All around me were people who weren’t Chinese talking excitedly about some connection they had to China.
“Oh I was in China just last week and…”
“The last time I saw a Chinese opera…”
“My friend Mei Ling…”
“I ate fried rice for dinner tonight…”
My stepson who is particularly fond of Chinese propaganda songs kept trying to sing one to me much to my distress. I’m easily embarrassed in public.
At last, it was time for the show to start. Before dimming the lights they announced that all photography is strictly prohibited in the theater. Normally, I don’t like breaking the rules, but the violinists asked me to take pictures of the show. As soon as it was dark, I took my camera from my purse and tried to sneakily take some pictures. My camera is not made for this sort of thing so the pictures aren’t great.
I forgot to mention that he gets to wear a mask for the concert too. He’s the one with the bass. I guess he didn’t practice his backing vocals enough because the sound guy turned down his vocal mic during the show and I couldn’t hear anything he sang.
