The puppet master
Young and fearless
As someone who has seen only 20 of his creations, I cannot claim to be an authority on Lin Zhaohua's art. Many of his productions struck me as works-in-progress. In other words, he breaks conventions, yet hardly can his experiments be called new ones. He is on the constant prowl for new ways of theatrical expression that he often ends up titillating more than satisfying.
In Hamlet, the protagonist is no longer the indecisive prince we know. But what is he? What part of the richly textured play does Lin's interpretation highlight? Does this new Hamlet have any relevancy in the world we live in? It seems quite muddled to me. The value of his production lies in his courage to challenge the status quo, so to speak, when most Chinese, even the highly educated, were taught that only one interpretation, usually using Marxist class theory, is official.
That said, there are productions that are extremely polished and highly gratifying. Five Stories of Lao She has the perfect balance between the straight play and the traditional Chinese opera. The Chinese aesthetics, instead of standing in jarring juxtaposition with what is essentially a Western import (China did not have an indigenous all-talk format in its stage art) seeps into every stage movement and every design detail. Yet, it is not a replica of, say, Peking Opera.
Cao Yu, China's most accomplished modern playwright, was surprised when he learned Lin Zhaohua was 51 the year he inquired of the director's age.
"I thought you were a young man," said Cao. Now in his 70s, Lin is still young at heart. He is known as "dadao" (the big director) in theatrical circles, but actress Xu Fan reveals that those who frequently work with him call him "Little Lin", and some even use "Huahua", a moniker Chinese often associate with children or pets.
"When are you going to address me as 'the old artist'?" Lin retorted, in mock anger and referring to the unofficial title equivalent to the term "legendary" for retired Hollywood personalities.
It is funny that people argue over what school of theatrical art Lin's should belong to. Perhaps Yi Liming, his protege, says it best: "Yes, Lin Zhaohua's practice comes from a Western person. It is not Stanislavski or Brecht. It is Don Quixote. He regards tradition as flowing and growing, not static. He is always creating, with some results immature or absurd, but that does not take away from his creative trajectory. He has never stopped tilting at the windmill."
Contact the writer at raymondzhou@chinadaily.com.cn.