As fleeting as August snow
Although the operatic libretto for Snow in August has yet to be finalized, the already published play suffices to indicate the general story line: It takes as its subject Huineng, the sixth patriarch of Chan (Zen) Buddhism, aiming to convey "exultation in nothingness."
In this modernistic new musical, Gao Xingjian merges Chinese traditional speaking and singing arts with modern Western theater of the absurd to dramatize how, in the Tang Dynasty, the most famous of Chan koans (paradoxical statements or questions which, when profoundly meditated upon, may bring the Chan practitioner sudden enlightenment) became the basis on which power was transmitted from the fifth patriarch, Hungren, to the sixth patriarch, Huineng.
As Gao himself asks: What is this thing "Chan"? Is it a state of "no coming, no going, no left no right, no up no down, where amidst nothingness there truly exists somethingness, somethingness itself being nothing"?
Or could this thing "Chan" possibly be the convoluted twists and turns of a woman's heart? Or the "opposite shore" yearned for by fools? Or the words of an innocent-hearted bloke?
In the production, the author has designed an array of characters rich in meaning, including for example: the Buddhist nun Wujinzang (literally, "inexhaustible repository"), the Chan master Shenxiu (rival of Huineng), the monk Huiming, Mad Monk, Song Girl, Writer, Chan Master Is, Chan Master Isn't, Chan Master This, Chan Master That, Commoner, etc.-in all a 30-odd-member cast, who will give a theatrical performance designed to stimulate its audience to reflect deeply on life, based on the legend surrounding the famous passage penned by Huineng: "The Bodhi [Buddha Nature] is not like the tree, / The mirror bright is nowhere shining; / As there is nothing from the first, / Where can the dust itself collect?" (translation by D.T. Suzuki, in Essays in Zen Buddhism)
Chan, under the pen of Gao Xingjian, is as a snowfall on a blistering-hot August day. Chan is like snow, so evanescent. Has it ever really occurred among human beings? Or when it comes, is it at the wrong time, and does it, amidst the vicissitudes of worldly happenings-now hot, now cold-just vaporize in a flash?
The name Snow in August itself is pregnant with opportunity for Chan insight. A lot of people naturally wonder why is it that Gao, who himself adheres to no religious faith, has nevertheless created a theatrical work full of Chan-related meanings. In reality, whether it be through the medium of the novel, theater or painting, multitalented Gao Xingjian's capacity for exploring the human spirit seems inexhaustible. As he once said, "The older one gets, the greater one's sense of closeness to religion, although I'm not a believer in any religion."
Gao Xingjian believes that the religious spirit is a yearning for liberation, and that not only writers and artists but everyone needs spiritual liberation. But when religion is transformed into a kind of political power, it becomes quite frightening.
Four acquaintances of Gao Xingjian, appreciative of the merit of his work, have played an important part in the story of Snow in August's creative unfolding.
Prior to Gao's winning the Nobel Prize in Literature, his novels had already been published in Taiwan, and he had already held several painting exhibitions. In this connection he often came to Taiwan and, in the process, got to know quite a few people in the Taiwan arts world. Among them, National Taiwan University professor Hu Yao-heng was highly appreciative of Gao's works, and introduced them to movie director Li Hsing and theater critic Kung Min. Consequently, the four became close friends.
At the time, Gao Xingjian's Snow in August playbook had yet to be published. Through Hu Yao-heng's introduction, Li Hsing put up the capital for it to be published by his own publishing company. In order to help readers understand Gao's play, Hu Yao-heng spent a long time writing a 60,000-character commentary, itself constituting a major work.
In addition to these three confederates, former CCA chairman Kuo Wei-fan is another Gao Xingjian "soul brother." Early on, not long after travel between Taiwan and the mainland was opened up, Kuo planned to introduce to Taiwan several avant-garde small-theater plays by Gao, such as Bus Stop and Signal Alarm, which he had directed on the mainland and which had been quite enthusiastically received by audiences there. Later, Kuo Wei-fan was promoted to the post of minister of education. Kung Min and Li Hsing, seeing this as a wonderful opportunity, accompanied Gao Xingjian to pay a visit to Minister Kuo, in hopes of persuading him to help arrange a staging of Gao's work.
Minister Kuo gave his immediate assent, promising to secure the cooperation of the National Kuo-Kuang Chinese Opera Company for a performance of the work in conjunction with the tenth anniversary of the National Music Hall and National Theater. At the time, Gao Xingjian proposed to use the playbook for Nocturnal Wanderer. However, Li Yen, the director of the two facilities, was of the opinion that their tenth anniversary ought to be a joyous occasion, for which reason the appearance of the Chinese character ming (≠?) in the title of the play-meaning "nocturnal," "dark" or "Hades"-was not appropriate, and he hoped that the name of the play could be changed. With that, the plans for a cooperative undertaking were temporarily put aside.
Not long after returning to France, Gao Xingjian wrote a letter to Kung Min, who at the time was serving as Kuo-Kuang Chinese Opera Company's artistic director. In it, he proposed to change the play, and explained that he would specially write a new play for the express purpose of cooperation with Kuo-Kuang in celebrating the tenth anniversary of the National Theater and Music Hall. This new play was Snow in August. Kung Min was the first person in Taiwan to read it. Highly admiring of Gao's ability to write such a fine play in such a short time, Kung began doing his utmost to get the work staged.
As stated by Kung Min, Gao Xingjian's greatest motivation for writing Snow in August was that at present the whole world, in speaking of "Zen," is under the impression that it is a product of Japanese culture, no one realizing that it-as Chan-has in fact been part of Chinese culture since ancient times, with a history of over a thousand years, and has had an impact upon the whole of East Asia. In view of this, Gao wanted to come forward and say a few words in defense of Chinese Chan, restoring its original identity in the eyes of the world. Believing theater to be the most powerful vehicle for moving hearts to recognition of reality, Gao decided upon using it as his vehicle for telling a story of Chan.
(right) Gao Xingjian's inkwash painting Diansa (Splattering) is highly acclaimed in artistic circles. It reflects the same spiritual depth as his novel Soul Mountain and his play Snow in August.