When a person from German music circles came to Taiwan to collect music from popular dramas, the Council for Cultural Planning and Development arranged for a performance by Liao Chung-chih. Her eyebrows in a frown, eyes nearly closed, she poured out the sorrows of the heroine Wang Pao-chuan. Though the visitor understood not a word of Chinese, he had to remove his glasses to wipe his moist eyes.

The reputation of this artist, called the greatest master of the ku-tan (the oppressed or bullied female--a pitiable, sympathetic victim) in Taiwanese opera, is built on fact. However, many people are more familiar with Yang Li-hwa or Yeh Ching, and not with Liao. This is because the former do television opera, and the latter does "traditional opera."

The most sought-after qualities for the traditional Taiwanese opera are a beautiful and intricate voice, figure, and acting skill. To accommodate the television medium, with its fast and furious pace, much of the complex vocals and acting have been cut out. It's unavoidable that the original flavor of the operas is lost.

But because the opportunities for live performance are few, troupes have trouble making ends meet; it is hard to find skilled specialists. Quality is declining, and in general the operas seen at temple festivals are already "bent out of shape." The stars of the heyday of Taiwanese opera are now in their 70's or 80's--Liao, already a grandmother, is the sole surviving great ku-tan performer.

The ku-tan is the most outstanding female role. The role calls specially for singing crying songs. Professor Hsu Tsang-houei, a collector of popular dramas, has said, "The crying song is the most beautiful part of the opera; it can be likened to the aria in western opera in its beauty." He adds that Liao is the best performer of this role that he has heard.

Upon hearing the praise of her many admirers, Liao remarks with emotion, "My crying songs were molded in the course of my life. . . . If you have never experienced anguish, then how do you know how to cry?"

As a child, Liao did not have her parents at her side. She was raised by her grand-mother. At eleven, she began selling bread sticks and popsicles to support her grand mother.

At that time she lived near a school which taught music to the dependents of opera performers. She often went to see the rehearsing at night. One day she struck upon the idea to use a popular melody, with her own words, to condemn the father who had abandoned her. It was discovered that her voice was full and rich and she was invited to begin studying drama.

"The greatest attraction for me at the time was that I got a pair of embroidered shoes when I performed." Unexpectedly, she scalded her foot and could not go on stage.

At fifteen, her grandmother died, and she lost her anchor. She followed a travelling doctor selling medicine, but couldn't make enough to eat. The only thing to do was to be taken in as an "adopted daughter." Little did she expect that her new home would be a brothel; she fled. With no other skills, she joined an opera troupe.

She married badly and endured numerous blows emotionally. After giving birth to children, it was necessary to borrow money just to get by.

This background has enabled Liao to really interpret her tragic characters. On the stage she uses the drama to express her own emotions. Her favorite parts are those that are tied to her own life experience. In "The Third Wife Raises the Son," a deceased man's first and second wife remarries; the third is left to raise the son of the second. He finally achieves great success; the second wife, having married a bad man, ends up wandering the streets.

She envies those who have warm families. Because she had no way to get this for herself, she hoped to give it to her children. No matter how busy her performing, she went home after the curtain closed to look after her children. She did not smoke, drink, gamble, or go to social events.

When televised opera was hot, she was up early to tape, and at night it was live theater. She sang over ten hours a day. She refined her voice and techniques over this period, singing with beautiful transitions and delicate finishes to her notes.

Winning a national prize for best ku-tan in 1952, her opportunities rapidly multiplied: she left her mark on radio, TV, albums, live performances. She is currently the most broadly experienced opera artist around.

Having seen her children to adulthood, it seemed that Liao could rest for a while. But in 1978 Hsu Tsang-houei sought out her help in passing on the tradition of the Taiwanese opera. Writing her own lectures, she went to campuses and study activities to introduce the history of the opera and demonstrate her fine voice and classic gestures.

Lin Feng-shyong, associate professor at the Chinese Culture University, recalls that at the opera part of a popular drama festival in 1986, Liao was given a budget of a mere NT$80,00 (US$2,000). But she borrowed scenery, rounded up the best staff you could get on Taiwan, and personally scripted, directed, and performed; she even did handyman's work, all without a word of complaint.

She also is active in passing on the tradition. But she has found difficulties: most students are young girls, and the roles of the old man, the clown, or the villain are unwelcome. When she first started teaching, she assigned roles on the first day, only to discover that those with unpopular roles didn't show up the second. Now she chooses a repertoire with more roles for women and lets everyone have chances to perform.

Also, for a long time price competition has lowered the quality--and thus prestige--of opera. Parents are unwilling to see their children study drama. Some have to deceive their parents just to get to class. Liao had to make a personal visit to the parents of one student to convince them the girl was in it for fun, and not as a full time career.

She has a strong sense of mission. Performing was originally a way to make a living. Now singing and teaching have become her joy and her responsibility. Her greatest hope is that someone will fund a foundation for Taiwanese opera.

Ask Liao Chung-chih for whom she works so hard, and she will say, "Everything is for the opera."

[Picture Caption]

The training of a hard life has enabled Liao Chung-chih to effort-lessly portray every gesture and emotion of the ku-tan.

During a religious festival in Taichia, Liao, at left, performed "Liang Shan-po and Chu Ying-t'ai" and showed a cute and pert expression, rare for her. (photo courtesy of Lin Po-liang)

In the performance of "The Return of Hsueh P'ing-kui" at the Social Educational Hall, Liao played the role of Wang Pao-chuan.

On the anniversary of her grandmother's death, Liao burns incense and prays. She says, "Grandmother was my closest relative."

Liao Chung-chih's emotion-filled expressions and gestures move the crowds deeply. No wonder even foreigners are touched.

President Lee and his group visited the Singapore International Monetary Exchange, where they received a brief report. （photo by Chen Mi n-jeng）