Immersive tales of love across time and space at the Huntington
The evocatively titled “Nightwalk in the Chinese Garden” has everything but the fireflies, the cicadas, and the crickets in their bamboo cages. But it’s easy to imagine that they’re present as well.
With some allowance, the Chinese gardens are similar to the follies, that is, the faux ruins, the bridges and staircases leading to nowhere in particular, the isolated cottages and temples and pyramids, etc., that were popular in 18th century Europe. These ornamental structures often suggested another time or place and invited wistful moods and contemplation.
Ten years ago, this Chinese garden was new, with little or no mature greenery, and for the most part it was comprised of concrete footpaths with their linking bridges, a koi pond without much character or charm, and a couple of pavilions without the necessary patina to bestow upon them an air of authenticity.
A decade has worked wonders on the site, and for the first time Liu Fang Yuan is enchanting attendees in a way they may never before have been enchanted.
Stan Lai looked at and appraised the different points of interest in the garden where the action of a play can take hold, and he proceeded to tailor “Nightwalk” to best utilize them. The result, with a storyline understood although not so easily grasped, is an atmospheric experience of the highest order.
The play draws heavily from the late 16th century Ming-era opera “The Peony Pavilion,” and interweaves this with an early 20th century narrative about a young painter in the employ of railroad magnate Henry E. Huntington, whose money was lavished upon books, art, and the very estate where the stories unfold.
“The Peony Pavilion” in its original form contains 55 scenes and can run for 22 hours. In 2006 an abbreviated version was presented over three evenings at the Irvine Barclay Theatre on the UCI campus, where I saw it, and I believe elsewhere in Los Angeles. It’s sort of a cousin to the classic Chinese novel “A Dream of Red Mansions,” which in my bookcase is slipcased in three volumes.
In this play, love is everywhere, not only in life and the afterlife, in the distant and not-too-distant past, in dreams, painting and poetry. Mostly, there is longing and unrequited passion, or of love found, lost, and now hungered for.
“Although “Nightwalk” is performed six evenings a week through Oct. 26, I believe it was sold out before it opened, and to a large extent that’s because only about 40 people can be accommodated each evening. So why write about it? Because perhaps the Huntington will consider a reprise in late spring or early summer (sounds like the title of an Ozu film!), let alone next fall.
The play–and I keep wanting to call it ‘the experience’!–begins at 7:30 p.m., and a few minutes before that, gathered around a check-in table seemingly out in nowhere, two men with lanterns silently approach and beckon those assembled to follow. It is best to do so quietly, because in one sense this is already part of the adventure and, I don’t know about the others, but I could then imagine that we’d become promoted to diplomats or ambassadors or simply honored guests being silently led to somewhere special, even magical, and reserved for only the select, privileged few.
It’s a bit of walk, somewhat brisk, but more of a prelude if not exactly an overture. There’s a ceremonious entry, a spirited welcome by actress Eileen T’Kaye, and then the guides lead us to the Hall of the Jade Camellia, where we encounter an anguished 16th century Chinese poet (Hao Feng) at his desk, soon joined by his lover and muse (Jessika Van), and into the scene comes the itinerant painter, The Artist (Peter Mark), and his model (Abigail Stanton). The four of them may be just feet or even inches from the audience, now seated close by on benches, but from each other they are in different centuries despite a palpable resonance that conjoins them. This is somewhat reminiscent of Tom Stoppard’s masterful “Arcadia” where the centuries overlap but of course can never physically interact.
It wasn’t premeditated on my part, but I went left. Was this important? Did it make a difference? Well, yes, sort of like how one approaches “Hopscotch,” the novel by Julio Cortázar in which the writer offers the reader various choices on how to approach his novel, which can be read straight through, by skipping (or hopscotching) per his suggestions, and so on. In the end, everybody will have read the same pages, but clearly not in the same order. True, we aren’t asked to make a choice, but it’s the same basic concept with “Nightwalk,” although I doubt if Mr. Lai was thinking of either “Arcadia” or “Hopscotch” when he conceived this play. He may, however, have been familiar with the “Hopscotch” auto-opera presented by The Industry in and across downtown L.A.
But what I wanted to say is that one could experience “Nightwalk” countless times (bearing in mind that tickets range from $85 to $150) and every evening the experience would be different, depending on one’s mood, the other guests, if one is walking in front or lagging behind, and of course the weather itself. The performance I attended included an appearance by a large yellowl moon.
Because “Nightwalk” is often dreamlike in its construction and presentation, my synopsis may be full of holes, and closer to a laundry list of impressions.
The first stop on my group’s tour was at a prime viewing point next to one of those magnificent vertical wind-carved or water-carved rocks. The Artist (he’s also called Mr. Willow) has paused there, and Mrs. Stone (Eileen T’Kaye) informs him that he is at the grave of Bella Dejardin (Beautiful garden?), a young woman who died pining for a lover. The Artist is put up for the night, in a room which turns out to be Bella’s former bedroom, where she was confined before her death.
In the tiny Pavilion of the Three Friends the Chinese maid (Reggie Yip) talks about her sorrowful mistress (Jessika Van). The gist of it seems to be about ghosts and dreams. It’s mid-autumn. This is followed (or preceded!) by a brief scene on a bridge, before being escorted to the Love for the Lotus Pavilion.
This is a more elaborate encounter, where we are enchanted by Sarahjeen Francois as the Flower Spirit and her two giggly nymphlike companion spirits, Jasmine and Chrysanthemum. With its long winding fabric that embraces the lovers, the Maiden and the Scholar/Playwright (Van and Feng), this scene is somewhat of a dreamlike fantasy that seems to mirror the intimate encounter between the Artist and Bella. Then, stepping forward (or backwards), the Maiden and her Chinese maid are together in the smaller Terrace of the Jade Mirror, where we learn of the maid’s affections for the gardener, which once again mirrors another scene from the other story, that of the maid Fragrance and her beloved back in China. In fact, if my ears did not deceive me, this Chinese maid (Yip) is also named Fragrance. Which wouldn’t be so odd, really, considering that “Nightwalk” takes place in the Garden of Flowering Fragrance.
If you’ve read this far, it’s evident how impressed I was by the whole experience, which I would say is more deeply felt than fully comprehended. In this sense it reflects the heart and the emotions, rather than the head, and passionate love is truly at the center of this tale. It’s also one of those rare events that one wishes could be experienced again, this time beginning from the other side. But that’s an experience I’ll have to encounter only in my imagination. At least for the time being.
Apart from the playwright and director Stan Lai, there have been many people involved who brought this immersive work to life, such as the flautist Yin Qian and guitarist Omar Torrez who provide unobtrusive music. Also scenic designer Aubree Lynn and costume designer E.B. Brooks, and the list does go on and on. Although “Nightwalk in the Chinese Garden” has been sold out, perhaps there is a waiting list for cancellations, or perhaps there will be added shows. For this event, it certainly wouldn’t hurt to inquire. Huntington.org/Nightwalk. ER
