Music Hall is a story that is both funny and heartbreaking.
The absurd and often hilarious touring experiences recounted by its three characters bring back memories of the dozen or so modest classrooms and rehearsal rooms at the drama school where I trained; of small theatres and multipurpose halls in Paris, Avignon and other provincial cities; of the amateur theatre companies we joined as young acting students more than ten years ago, eager to gain experience, and the strange and unlikely places where we performed.
One memory stands out in particular: a squat in the 12th arrondissement of Paris — an abandoned building without heating, illegally occupied by a group of people. It was winter. Under French law, the police were not allowed to evict people from illegally occupied buildings during the coldest months of the year. So we were able to rehearse and perform there throughout that winter, in the ruins, shivering from the cold and relying on coffee to keep ourselves warm. I was in my first year of drama school.
All these years later, the harsh conditions that theatre practitioners so often face remain much the same, whatever the country. And what moves me is that, wherever we go, we still encounter these people: sometimes pitiful, sometimes ridiculous, and so often the most endearing of all…
They continue to pursue their dreams of theatre, full of hope. For that moment when the spotlight comes on, they endure, they struggle, giving everything they have, without hesitation, without turning back.
Theatre is like a flame that can never quite be extinguished. Once it has somehow found its way into your heart, it may remain there forever. But if we are honest, I believe anyone who has chosen theatre as a path in life will tell you that, at some point, they have faced the same question: should I carry on or give up?
And isn't this simple, almost brutal choice one that everyone pursuing a dream — not only those working in theatre — must confront when faced with difficulties, whatever their field?
With this question in mind, I completed my Chinese stage translation of Music Hall. Together with the actors, I set out to encounter its three characters, the people and events they speak of, Joséphine Baker’s song De temps en temps, which emerges from time to time between passages, and that enigmatic smile at the very end…
Once again, the magic of theatre and its unwavering spirit fill us with an overwhelming sense of emotion and excitement! Wherever we are, whatever adversity we face, belief is the most reliable walking stick to support us on our way, and our most faithful companion before we finally step into the light on the stage of life.
This is what I want to share with audiences through Music Hall: in a performance space without a single prop, bare and exposed, with nothing but the actors — a small theatre, an abandoned factory, or an old stage left behind. As simple as that.
Sifan Shao
Beijing, 2017