This happened a few weeks ago, and before the Sichuan earthquake. For one reason and another, I didn’t post this blog then. Now, however, I am in Scotland on holiday, and so this can serve as archive material to fill the gaping void. It gives a small taste of how patriotism and culture intersect in Beijing at the moment.
One morning this spring, far too early to be properly awake, I headed to the Beijing Youth Palace for a gathering of local choirs. Each choir was to give a brief performance, and I’d signed up to sing as part of a small international group.
The Youth Palace is a former aristocratic residence that is part of the Forbidden City complex. The site was taken over decades ago by the Communist Party and transformed into a maze of practice rooms to nurture children who were identified as particularly musically talented. The traditional courtyards are home to peeling red walls, golden roofs and mythical animals rendered in bronze. At night, one can almost see the ghosts of imperial concubines scurrying through the shadows. A Space Race themed playground, all stars and rockets, hints at another ghost: the Soviet roots of China’s communism.
This morning’s multi-choir extravaganza, the Sounds of Spring, has taken place for the past few years. What I had forgotten is that this is 2008, and therefore what might have been a straightforward celebration of choral music had of course turned into an Olympics-fest.
There were choirs of children, choirs of adults, choirs from kindergartens, choirs from far-flung corners of the city. But all of them, without exception (except us…) were dressed in T shirts in the colours of the Olympic rings. The event was kicked off with a speech about the glories China was about to enjoy as the Olympic host. And almost every song was either Olympic-themed or politically themed, and often both (because, after all, that’s the point).
Some of the inspiring lyrics: “Without the Communist Party There Would Be No New China.” The only western song I identified among the swelling chords and electronic backing tracks was “O Sole Mio”. Except for our programme, that is… still, the gospel song, ‘We Shall Overcome,’ was introduced diplomatically as ‘A traditional English song.’ And the African spiritual that we sang was incomprehensible, so no one will have known that it meant, ‘We March in the Light of God.’ Left to me, we would have translated every word. Not as a political or religious statement, but simply in honour of honesty and so that a different voice was heard. But then that’s why I’m not a diplomat.
It was a good natured event. Outside, the sky grew dark, thunder roared and rain poured down. Inside, under extravagantly painted imperial ceilings, the children waved tinsel pom-poms, sang in perfect harmony and applauded their country’s coming glory. I have never seen such a mass of well-behaved children. The patriotic songs are intended to keep them that way.