A Musical Halloween in Macau
The following was written in my travel journal on October 31, 1992.
The fall season is the best season in Macau. Not only has the terrible heat of the summer cooled off, but there is an annual Music Festival and an international fireworks competition. Once a week, for several weeks, one country sets off a 20 minute extravaganza of its newest, more creative and artistic fireworks. These are easily the best fireworks I’ve ever seen. A winner is eventually chosen. The Music Festival provides a series of delights, sometimes performed in halls and sometimes in gardens. The culmination of the festival is an elaborately staged complete opera that is attended and lauded or criticized by just about every Portuguese person living here.
I spent this Halloween at a concert I found by chance from reading a poster advertising it. I was hungry to hear some live music, but had no idea what to expect. In came 50 or so mostly Chinese men and women dressed in traditional ancient Chinese robes. In sharp contrast, the conductor was dressed in a formal tuxedo. Most of the instruments were ancient Chinese ones, which came in a very wide variety of shapes and sizes, and especially sounds.
I can’t appreciate the nasal, high-pitched singing of Chinese opera, but the sounds of the classical Chinese instruments totally delighted me. These marvelous instruments can bring alive sounds I never even suspected exist. Their music evokes in me a state of conscious suspension in which I relive the warmth of some of my indescribably high and happy times in China.
I am always envious of the way musicians themselves become totally engrossed in the music they are producing. At the end of a piece, a brief expression of surprise flits across their faces at finding themselves on a stage in front of an audience. At the conclusion, the conductor and soloists bowed and awkwardly accepted huge bouquets of flowers that seem to accompany every performance, be it professional or amateur, in Hong Kong, Taiwan, and Macau.
Sometimes the beep of beepers, the ring of mobile phones, the rustling of programs, and the general chatting of the audience broke the spell momentarily. The contrast between the often crude behavior of Chinese and the delicacy of their art and music regularly confounds me.
Tags: Annual Music Festival in Macau; Chinese traditional mus, Travel
October 23rd, 2008 at 7:34 am
On when memorable occasion, I witnessed what seemed to be the most innovative fireworks display ever. While most of the fireworks that evening were fairly standard — soring loftily into the air and then exploding in one manner or another, suddenly fireworks were skidding along the water that separates the Macau penninsula from Taipa. “Wow!” I thought. “Now that’s impressive.”
But the display didn’t end with the usual grand finale … it just sort of petered out. The crowds along the waterfront milled about impatiently fas they awaited the evening’s conclusion, but it never came. There was this lone burst of brilliance and then nothing. Slowly the crowd thinned, rather disappointed.
The next day I learned that what was supposed to be the grand finale had actually tipped over … so instead of bursting spectacularly into the air, the fireworks skittered across the water.
I don’t believe that China took first prize that year…
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October 24th, 2008 at 5:50 pm
The audiences in Macau seemed to demand a lot. I remember hearing that the Portuguese who watched the operas every year at the Festival were extremely critical. It had to be excellent - especially in grandiosity to satisfy them. Many, if not most of the Portuguese left Macau in 1999 when Macau returned to Chinese rule. I wonder if Macau still has an annual grand opera.