A not-yet-middle-aged man in an orange shirt, blue crew neck sweater and blue jeans could easily describe many instructors on campus. But no professor even comes close to stepping in Wilfred Aw-Yeong Peng Mun’s shoes when he demonstrates his skills as a nandan—the secretive art of female impersonation in Cantonese opera. UBC Theatre students came out in droves to take part in the interactive question and answer session this past Tuesday, November 10.
Cross-dressing is not enough. As a male actor, physiological differences from females must be compensated for. To give the appearance of hips, you need “tight abs,” Aw-Yeong explains.
Never face the audience. By doing so, you create the illusion of the feminine curve. Female actors who also lack curvaceous booties were quick to adopt this practice from their male counterparts. His hands move with a viscosity that defies physics. They appear improbably fluid.
He breaks out into an impromptu falsetto, surprising the crowd into a spellbound silence. The female tonality in both singing and operatic speaking is accomplished by not singing the “male voice.” Laughter erupts as Aw-Yeong points out the ridiculousness of this approach by briefly conversing with his audience in the higher-pitched female operatic voice. From the sheer spontaneity of his performance, you would never suspect that Aw-Yeong no longer acts on a full-time basis and only performs for charity.
His ability to pick and choose roles as he pleases is tempered by the demands of the opera. Producing the illusion of foot-binding is no easy feat (please refer to your local foot fetishist for more details). This performance trick used to be a secret, too. Actors would seclude themselves in a wooden booth so others would not see their methods. Aw-Yeong has no such hesitation in his first Canadian performance.
The shoes the performer wears are no longer a mystery. Think of putting on a three-inch high heel. Then break off the heel, and bind what’s left of the shoe to your foot with an athletic bandage.
“Now do a somersault,” Aw-Yeong says, with perfect seriousness. Training for these movements requires over 100 hours standing on upright bricks.
“Try it, anyone?”
Only one brave theatre student volunteers. With some guidance, she stands and even attempts a shuffling “opera-run” like one that Aw-Yeong had demonstrated earlier on in the lecture. He says to her with a smile, “You need to jump [for the acrobatics in Cantonese opera].”
One of the hardest parts of the performance is “go[ing] into the character too deep.” He speaks from experience, being unable to take off his makeup after performing in Thrashing the Sea God.
Despite all of Aw-Yeong’s operatic revelations, there are few male actors interested in taking up the mantle from him, making him one of Cantonese opera’s last nandan. Aw-Yeong will be mentoring new performers in Cumberland, a joint project between Pangaea Arts and the internationally elite Guangdong Cantonese Opera Academy First Troupe. The opera will focus on one of the largest Chinese communities set in Cumberland, BC. Watch for the opening of this Cantonese opera in the upcoming year.
For more information about Cumberland, visit pangaea-arts.com.
























