Preservation of the Waning Temple Opus

By+staff+reporter+JIAO+FENG

Hu Qingxue， 40， a farm lad from Guan County in Hebei Province began in his teens to learn traditional musical notation. At 17 he enrolled in the classes of Zhang Benxing， a master of Jing Music at Beijings Zhihua Temple， which dates back to the early Ming Dynasty （1368-1644）. Hu is now a government-recognized successor to this national intangible cultural heritage.

LUMICANG （Rice Granary） Alley， to the west of the East 2nd Ring Road in central Beijing， is a hideaway， a refuge from the hustle and bustle of the commercial district around it. Mottled brick walls， low-lying courtyard homes and quiet lanes strewn with fallen leaves， all form a serene backdrop to this 500-year-old Zhihua Temple from the Ming Dynasty.

Royal patronage a thing of the distant past， the temple still retains a national reverence for its legacy of Jing Music， a blend of court， Buddhist and folk music， lauded as a “l(fā)iving fossil” of ancient Chinese music. It has been handed down orally through 27 generations. Hu Qingxue is the latest in that long line.

Waning Refrains

In the 1950s， a monk at Zhihua Temple discovered an ancient music book at the bottom of a rarely opened closet. He sent it to the musician Yang Yinliu， who confirmed it was a 1694 transcript by the musician-monk Yongqian. Comparing the 48 pieces documented in the book， Yang discovered they were exactly the same as what is performed to this day. It is amazing that these cloistered artists never altered their compositions in the slightest over the past 300 years. This finding inspired further study of this music named after the Chinese capital.

Zhihua Temple was built in 1443 as the ancestral shrine of the Ming eunuch Wang Zhen， head of the Directorate of Ceremonial for the imperial court and right-hand man of the emperor. Utilizing his position， Wang introduced imperial music， then exclusive to Ming palaces， into his temple， where the monastery ensemble incorporated it with Buddhist music and created a new genre. As the Wang family declined in later years， funding for the temple ebbed away， forcing its ensemble to stage commercial performances to survive. In the course of this， the music took on elements of the folk music of northern China， and gradually evolved into a style of its own. By the mid-19th century， the temples repertory had become mainstream Buddhist music in northern China， and hence referred to as Jing（Beijing） Music.

This music， pristine and numinous， is played mainly on wind instruments accompanied by percussion instruments， such as the yunluo （Chinese gong chimes）， drum and qing （chimes）. The structure is discreet， and the acoustic depth and richness is compelling.

Jing musical pieces are composed in the centuries-old Chinese way， known as Gong Chi notation（gong and chi are two of the Chinese characters for different notes）. The teaching is largely oral， as the traditional notation only sets down the “frame”notes， between which more nuanced supplementary notes are often needed， called akou – meaning， “mouth.” The latter cannot be put into words， and has to be passed down through performance.“The only way to learn akou is through the teacher playing it and the student learning it by heart. Those without such training have no means to perform a work with a given Gong Chi notation，”explained Hu.

It therefore takes long years of tedious rote memorization before a student can play independently. “In the past， the temple only recruited children below seven for its ensemble， and the training took seven or eight years. This is one of the reasons why many Jing musical works have been lost，” Hu Qingxue said. He added that 137 scores have survived， but only 39 are complete enough for present-day successors to deliver a performance. Whats more， some include vocal sections that nobody knows how to sing.

Mission vs Passion

Like other traditional arts， Jing Music was on the verge of extinction when China emerged out of the chaotic vandalism of the “cultural revolution”（1966-1976）. In the 1980s， Zhihua Temple brought back a few monks who had learnt the music and survived the political process， to restore its ensemble. Zhang Benxing was one of them.

At the First Beijing Cultural Festival in 1991 Zhang spotted Hu Qingxue， who was performing Qujiaying Music with a group of young farmers from Qujiaying Village， Guan County， Langfang City in Hebei Province.

This ancient music form also has its roots in Buddhism. On graduating from junior middle school， Hu Qingxue and five other boys apprenticed to an elderly folk musician in the village， staged performances in the area， gradually building up a reputation among local rural communities. This got them a ticket to the First Beijing Cultural Festival.

Qujiaying Music shares many similarities with Jing Music： the musical instruments used are almost the same， and both employ Gong Chi notation. With a nod from his superior， Zhang admitted Hu Qingxue and five other boys into the Zhihua Temple in December 1991， formally accepting them as the 27th generation of successors to this ancient music.

Zhang was sent to the temple at a young age， but resumed secular life after the founding of the Peoples Republic， as did other monks at Zhihua Temple. Hu and his fellow students thus no longer had to be monks to learn their art， though they continued to spend the subsequent years in seclusion.

As Jing Music in the past was played as part of religious rituals， there were rigorous requirements for the deportment of the performers， who had to undergo years of training in the particular etiquette of walking， standing and sitting， in addition to the music courses.

Hu Qingxue recalls how he used to practice the flute on the patio of the temple for long hours during deep winter days， when he could see his breath freeze. Another daily routine was rehearsing in the Temple of the Sun Park in central Beijing. “We set off at five in the morning， pedaling our teacher Mr. Zhang， who was in his 70s， on a tricycle. We did that every day for years，” Hu said. “Our master placed high expectations on us， hoping we could keep passing down this art.”

Art or Bread

Despite such toils and pains， the fulfillment of learning an exalted art form is great. Yet when Hu Qingxue reached adulthood， real life concerns became pressing and prominent. At 21， he realized that with the small allowance from the temple， his sole income， he had no way to start a family and support them. He finally made the difficult decision to take on a better-paid job， and left Zhihua Temple. His five classmates soon followed suit. The temple ensemble thus fell apart once again.

Hu returned to his hometown in Hebei Province， where he started a transport business after getting a drivers license. With the handsome income he earned from it， he soon got married， and then had children. Jing Music became a thing of his past.

In the winter of 2013 Zhihua Temple planned to release a Jing Music recording， as a solid way to preserve this artistic heritage for future generations. The vice-curator of the temple museum， Sun Suhua， invited Hu Qingxue and his former classmates to join this project， and they agreed. After a full month of rehearsals， the group produced four CDs with 39 melodies of Jing Music. At the conclusion of the recording project Hu and his buddies headed back to their hometown and their daily lives. This experience， however， rekindled their feelings for the music. This is why they went back to the temple a couple of months later， when Sun told them that the municipal government of Beijing had launched a project to preserve Jing Music.

“The vice-curator called me， saying the government now pays unprecedented attention to intangible cultural heritage. With Mr. Zhang in his twilight years， if we didnt take on his mantle， Jing Music would be buried in oblivion with this generation，”Hu said.

As an incentive， Zhihua Temple offered a salary， though far below what he could earn from his transport business. Still Hu decided to accept the offer.“I love this music from the bottom of my heart， and aspire to work on something I truly love. Another reason is that we all know that Jing Music has no chance of passing down in history if our band did not reassemble，” he explained.

On returning to Zhihua Temple， Hu and other members of the band rehearsed all the works they had learnt， and in doing so gained a fresh understanding of the music， which inspired them to produce the second recording. According to Hu， further practice and performance over the past years have exposed him to the soul of Jing Music and honed his skills to the point of being able to express it through his own rendition.

Uncertain Fate

After passing the evaluation， Hu Qingxue was conferred the title in 2012 of successor to the national intangible cultural heritage. Though still in his prime， he already worries about his successors.

This concern is not groundless. Normally a Jing Music band consists of at least nine players， now downsized to five. “I took on a few students， who all quit later. One of them， a flute player， had the gift， but still failed to persevere.” The reason？ Hu shook his head，“Money. In this vocation one cannot earn enough to support a family. A full years performances at the temple cannot even generate enough to buy a nice mobile phone.”

In fact， the chilly financial prospects are the leading obstacle to the continuation of many intangible cultural heritages.

“The Jing Music of Zhihua Temple is different from other forms of ancient music in that it was part of religious rituals， such as those guiding the dead to another life. Such customs have long perished， as have the real life needs for the music，” Hu said. “Besides， befitting its original function， Jing Music is solemn and elusive， and does not appeal to many present-day audiences.”

It was time for another performance at the temple when our interview concluded. Hu and his band changed into their costumes and took the stage， in front of a one-person audience. They looked unruffled as they bent over their instruments， as if this scene is the norm.