PERFORMANCE REVIEW: ZHANG HUODING’S PERFORMANCES OF LEGEND OF THE WHITE SNAKE AND THE JEWELRY PURSE AT DAVID H. KOCH THEATRE AT LINCOLN CENTER ON SEPTEMBER 2 AND 3, 2015 ROSE JANG The Evergreen State College, USA When the curtain dropped at the end of The Jewelry Purse (Suolin nang 鎖麟囊),1 I was one of perhaps two thousand audience members jumping to our feet and madly clapping our hands, as if a prolonged, collective store of emotion had finally burst out from every corner of the majestic David H. Koch Theatre at Lincoln Center. Lights came up and revealed the real world—far, far from that of the play —as we, dressed in our mundanely nice clothes and stuffed among rows of red velvet seats all the way to the third ring, could only slowly shake off this sweet, comforting dream of Peking opera2 (Jingju 京劇) by impulsively mobilizing our limbs, bodies, and vocal chords. Everyone was standing, applauding, and yelling approval; feet were thumping and cameras flashing. Those sitting close to the stage surged toward it and voices yelling “Zhang Huoding! Zhang Huoding!” rang out from everywhere in the theatre. They eventually succeeded in getting her to sing an encore, an aria from The Dream in the Spring Boudoir (Chungui meng 春閨夢). Yes, Zhang Huoding 張火丁 (b. 1971) was the star, and Zhang Huoding was the reason that most of us were here, with many, like myself, attending both nights of performance, simply to see her and hear her. The star treatment she received during her stay in New York City was quite similar to her usual reception in China (she has the strongest and most loyal fan base of any living Jingju performer). 1 This play premiered in 1937 and tells the story of a wealthy girl, Xue Xiangling, and a poor girl, Zhao Shouzhen. On their wedding day, when they meet by chance, Xue takes pity on Zhao and gifts her with the purse of the title of the play. In the second half of the play, when the two women’s fortunes have been reversed by a flood, Xue re-encounters the purse after she is hired as a nursemaid in Zhao’s household to look after Zhao’s son, who is the same age as the son Xue has been separated from. The two women swear sisterhood and Xue is reunited with her mother, son, and husband. This play was based on an old anecdote not in wide circulation. 2 In all the promotional materials for this production, Jingju 京劇 is translated as “Peking Opera” instead of the more recent and “politically correct” form, “Beijing Opera.” The choice of the translated name is significant, as “Peking Opera,” which uses a now antiquated spelling, has a ring of nostalgia to it that recalls, among other things, the successful U. S. tour by Mei Lanfang 梅蘭芳 (1894–1961) in 1930 (despite the fact that by that time China’s capital had been moved to Nanjing and Beijing’s name changed to Beiping). CHINOPERL: Journal of Chinese Oral and Performing Literature 35.1 (July 2016): 75–82© The Permanent Conference on Chinese Oral and Performing Literature, Inc. 2016 DOI 10.1080/01937774.2016.1183327 Although basically absent from the public stage for the past four years as she has concentrated on her family and teaching, her star status has seemed to only increase as her public appearances have decreased.3 Her fans in China have given themselves the endearing title of dengmi 灯迷,4 and many followed her all the way from Beijing to Lincoln Center.5 It was clear that the shouting and cheering during and at the end of the two Lincoln Center performances were initiated and guided by audience members familiar with Peking opera tradition and Ms. Zhang’s unique style of operatic delivery,6 yet the massive ovation at the end of the second performance, described above, did not appear to be in the least forced or insincere, despite the fact that it happened in a theatre located thousands of miles away from Beijing and better known as the home of the New York City Ballet. The majority of both audiences appeared to be of Asian descent, and a significant...