Recently I watched a Chinese movie. Just like that. No prior plan, no one forced, no one coaxed. One of the Narola(s) came to my place and showed me the leaflet picture of BRICS Film Festival, Delhi, on her phone. In 30 minutes, we were at the venue watching a Chinese movie (among the many) that struck a melancholic note with the feelings I have brooded and hatched over the years pertaining to tradition/culture-people-modernity relation.
No. The film had no Bruce Lee, Jackie Chan, no choreographed lightning fast fighting, or Kung-Fu of any kind. It was a movie that blanked our conventional conception about Chinese movies. The movie had a ‘Sifu’, the other actors, sometimes humourous and all-out compelling script, and the soulful heart-wrenching music that filled the packed hall. On the screen, they began to play ‘Song of the Phoenix’ directed by Wu Tianming.
Prior to the screening, the Director’s daughter, Wu Yanyan and the movie Producer gave a summary and the history of how the movie was made. Apparently, Wu Tianming died right after completing the movie in 2014. His daughter took charge, and along with the Producer started looking for the movie release. They found no takers. In May 2016, two years after his death, the movie was finally released on the same day with "Captain America: Civil War" in China. Despite the Marvel’s record-breaking show, ‘Song of the Phoenix’ held its head up and made waves, especially among the younger generation.
Unable to be a professional Suona (a double-reeded horn music instrument popularly used to produce traditional Chinese music!) player, a father puts his entire trust and duty to play Suona and learn the ‘Song of the Phoenix”, considered to be the toughest piece to play, upon his son Tianming (that the director should attribute his name to the protagonist) and kept him under the tutorage of a Suona Sifu in another village. Traditionally, Suona players are a cornerstone of Chinese tradition, not only in producing music but also in the keeping the ancient practices intact. The Suona bands were invited to play during ceremonies, whether in celebration or mourning. In playing the instrument, they fill the atmosphere with music soothing the weary travelers, farmers, toilers, and the troubled minds.
Everyone who plays the Suona cannot reach the level to play the ‘Song of the Phoenix’. From the early days, the Sifu identifies that the new apprentice Tianming has what it takes to learn fast and also reach a greater level, including to play the ultimate ‘Song of the Phoenix’. He grows into a fine young man, a professional Suona player who had promised Sifu that he will keep the tradition of Suona playing alive. Money and respect came regularly in good quantity. Everywhere they go, people paid due homage, treated them with fine wine and dine, and rewarded them handsomely. Tianming was entrusted with the task to raise the next generation of Suona players and who will keep the tradition alive. Tianming and his Suona band thus embark upon a journey where the objective is not only to play in the present, but also to see that the art and tradition continue to advance among the generations to come.
The next episode is what captivated the attention of my entire senses. It was as if it was all about Nagaland! Yes, Nagaland! How we have evolved from an agrarian, head-hunting, and animistic society to die-hard-white-collared-job fanatics, and all our traditional values and practices have diluted finely with the values and system of the ‘foreign’. We have remixed our traditions with the new ones, so much so that men and women deeply concerned about our ‘identity’ can grief and sing the Auld Lang Syne. Nagamese, English, jeans, boots, suits, guitars, piano, etc., have conveniently replaced mother tongue, traditional attires, traditional music instruments and all. We have ‘exoticized’ ourselves for no reason, except glaringly flash our follies to the rest of the world. We have ‘exoticized’ ourselves to a level where our traditions have become a mere showpiece for attracting tourists. Here is a situation where we are totally lost and irreparably messed up. On one hand, we strive for ‘self-determination’ because we are ‘different’ in our ‘identity’. On the other hand, we are losing all that constitutes our ‘identity’. Define irony?!
As I was saying, the Suona players were thriving. And then the new waves of music began to spill across the land.
Gradually, during ceremonies, the traditional Suona bands were given “second class citizen” treatments or they were not invited at all. New Bands came in the likes of modern brass bands and young girls skimpily dressed singing with provocative moves to entertain. Times, like the seasons, have changed. The citizens preferred the new products. Soon, the Suona bands found themselves unwanted and painful to peoples’ ear. The instrument that was the main ingredient of their everyday life throughout their history has now become obsolete, a thing of mockery and ridicule. Marriages, funerals, and all other ceremonies no longer required the Suona players. The same citizens who at one point of time had sought the bands for their pleasure have ushered in an era where the new ones have smothered the old.
Sifu dies while playing the ‘Song of the Phoenix’ in one of the ceremonies, trying to fight for the rightful place for Suona music amidst assault by modern culture. In the end, deserted by all his band-mates, Tianming with tears plays the ‘Song of the Phoenix’, all alone next to Sifu’s grave, as his spirit departs.
It is a painful sight to see our traditions becoming a mere advertisement for tourism promotion. Tradition has become a task to enforce, especially to the younger generations because we have given room for the guest to stay forever not thinking about our progenies. Of course, we need to discard all that hinders our path of progress and those which do not elevate us. However, we should be extremely cautious not to throw the baby with the bathwater while doing so. Having said this, tradition should not be a thing of the past- to look back in nostalgia, but should be celebrated with the same fervor- at present and in the future.
Toshi Longkumer, New Delhi
