Jojo Yip

Cantonese opera was once the most popular entertainment in our city but, due to films, TV and pop stars, over the years it’s been shrinking from public view. Not any more, though. Josiah Ng and Jojo Yip discover there’s a fresh push to make the art form great again, particularly in the eyes and ears of young people. Photography by Calvin Sit From inside a bamboo-and-foil shelter, atop a dingy cramped stage, a gong chimes once, twice, thrice, building up rapidly. Anticipation hangs in the musty air as audience members sit, transfixed on the well-lit stage. Then, there’s a shuffling noise from behind, followed by the appearance of a woman dressed in an ornate robe, complete with a massive imposing headdress with two long peacock feathers. She moves to the front of the stage and the gong stops. Total silence. She pauses. She stands alert, piercing the audience with an unwavering gaze and tree-like stance. This is our first taste of a Cantonese opera in a long time. We’re mesmerised, drawn into every one of her facial features accentuated by the actress’ signature heavy white, black and red face-paint. We marvel at the meticulously crafted outfit, the long peacock feathers that trail down from the headdress twice as large as the head it adorns. She’s the female warrior, or the ‘mou dan’ (武旦), one of many roles that a performer can play in Cantonese opera. While the audience sweats profusely in the heat of this old theatre, the actress keeps her composure perfectly, singing her li