While the archeological discoveries of the 10,000-year-old Shangshan Culture point to central and western Zhejiang as the earliest place for rice cultivation, Wuju opera was a crucial sign of the culture’s maturity and its crystallization. Now it has become one of the most significant cultural symbols of Zhejiang.

Long known as “Jinhua xi” or “Jinhua theater”, the name Wuju wasn’t widely circulated until after the founding of the People’s Republic of China. Wuju opera is a collective name for six shengqiang or vocal tones, namely the high-pitched tune, the Kunqu opera tune, the Luantan (literally “random pluck”) tune, the Huiju opera tune, the Tanhuang (a local folk opera art) tune and the Shidiao (popular local ditties) tune, that have been historically popular in the areas of Jinhua as well as Quzhou.

Behind the medley of various vocal tunes and the late adoption of a more encompassing name lies the development history of the opera over the past 500 years. During the Song dynasty (960 -1279) in the 12th century, Nanxi (literally “southern theater”) was born in the Wenzhou area, the earliest form of Chinese opera. Close to Wenzhou and a gateway for Wenzhou people to reach inland, Jinhua was heavily influenced by Nanxi very early on. From the west, i.e. Jiangxi province, the high-pitched tune later came in, and from the east, i.e. Jiangsu province, Kunqu opera tune arrived. Then Huiju opera tune was introduced to Jinhua via Huishang (Anhui businessmen) from the north, before they were joined by the local Tanhuang and Shidiao tunes.  

With so many “foreign” operas coming to Jinhua, performers there started to try singing the lines in local dialect and the opera music was also adapted to absorb more and more local folk melodies. Eventually, a unique local brand of opera emerged and took root in Jinhua.

Of the more than 300 operas that are still being actively performed in China today, Wuju opera is particularly noted for being a local and farmers’ opera, largely due to its rural origins. “The melons are whatever vines they grow on, and people utter whatever words befitting their upbringing,” a popular local saying goes. In Wuju opera, from script lines to music, from characters to stories, from costumes to body movements…everything has been tailored for the rural taste. Wuju opera has always been the sturdy rice plant growing in the paddy field, rather than the precious orchid nurtured and cultivated in a greenhouse.

In the plays, most of which center on the struggles between the loyal and the treacherous, the morals of the stories are straightforward and unambiguous. Farmers watching the operas love the heroes as much as they hate the villains. Traditional Chinese values, such as filial piety, faithfulness, righteousness, and respect for the elderly and care for the young, are regularly featured.

From the very beginning, the Wuju shows were mostly staged at outdoor venues－makeshift platforms in the open air, temples or ancestral halls, and with little to no help from any acoustic technologies, performers had no other way but to exaggerate their expressions, singing, body movements, costumes and even make-up. Apart from a set of formalized acting accumulated over time, many moves, poses and gestures came directly from real life, for which, Mei Lanfang (1894-1961), widely regarded as the greatest Peking opera master, called Wuju opera “the father of Peking opera”. To many experts and scholars of Chinese operas, it is the “living fossil of operas”.

The exaggerated performance was also in part the result of “popular demand”: in addition to clear-cut and distinct characters and morals, a happy ending is a must for farmer audiences. The good guys should be rewarded handsomely, and the bad buys should be punished severely. For the farmers, and many others indeed, all is well that only ends well.

In olden days, watching Wuju opera, usually during winter times when farm work was lighter, was a big occasion for rural residents, a festival in and of itself and a golden opportunity to do some socializing. As news of the upcoming shows reached a certain village, the whole village would already crowd around the temporarily propped up stage before you knew it. Once started, the shows would continue for days on end, day and night, rain or shine. In the audience, the elderly were often totally engrossed and even singing along, every single line in their heart; the young took any chances available exchanging love messages secretly; and the children clambered around the stage, trying to get a glimpse of the performers rehearsing or applying makeup.

The atmosphere would be even more boisterous if a “battle” happened to be on. In some richer villages, a few or even a dozen troupes would be invited to perform at the same time. Their stages only a stone’s throw away from each other, these troupes would field their best teams and plays, “battling” hard to win the audiences’ hearts. At midnight, the stage with the highest number of spectators won.

In fact, the farmers have been more than just spectators. Enthusiasts often organize themselves into amateur troupes, everyone playing an important part. Putting on a good performance is never the point; the point is to enjoy the process. Over the years, quite a number of those amateur performers and troupes turned into professionals.

For the past 70 years since the establishment of the People’s Republic of China, ever more Wuju opera talents have been cultivated, traditional plays have been documented, compiled and new plays written, and professional Wuju opera troupes, the Zhejiang Provincial Wuju Opera Troup in particular, have gained national and even international recognition. In 2008, Wuju opera was duly included in the National List of Intangible Cultural Heritage of China.

Invigorated by governmental support and people’s renewed interest in traditional culture, Wuju opera is enjoying a renaissance. But to its rural roots it always returns. “For the farmers, by the farmers and into the farmers.” On the road ahead for Wuju opera, more bumper years beckon.