What Mao Zedong (
The temporary conversion of the communist nation's nominal legislature marks the biggest international production to hit China, where the world's largest population and fastest growing economy are attracting a growing number of overseas performers.
The vast stage, which is better known as the platform for speeches by Communist party leaders, has been filled with about 100 dancers, musicians and production staff tapping, drumming and fiddling out jigs and ballads from the other side of the planet.
In the audience, a full house of almost 7,000 people sit at the desks usually reserved for legislators. Though few could have been there to connect with their Irish roots, they gave the show a thunderous standing ovation.
This remarkable coming-together of spectators and performers from such diverse backgrounds reflects the growing cultural curiosity and economic affluence of China's rising middle-class, as well as the changing strategies of foreign governments and businesses who want to cash in on the Asian nation's success.
For most of the past few decades politicians and artists visiting Beijing would have been expected to put human rights and political reform at the top of their agendas. But now they spend more time pushing cultural exchange and trade as the way to win wallets as well as hearts and minds.
Riverdance is spearheading the biggest Irish trade mission ever sent to China. Among the audience were Irish President Mary McAleese, Chinese President Hu Jintao (
In July at the same venue, British Prime Minister Tony Blair lobbied for P&O, Lloyds of London and numerous other British firms. There was no singing or dancing at those closed-door talks with the Chinese leadership, but cultural exchange was a central theme of his visit, which was timed to promote a major art, technology and education campaign run by the embassy and British Council. During one of these "Think UK" events, Cherie Blair regaled Chinese students with a version of the Beatles song, When I'm 64.
More foreigners are likely to be singing for their Chinese supper in the future. With manufacturers moving east in huge numbers, Britain, Ireland and other nations will need to sell culture and services to avoid a huge balance of payments deficit.
China's urban middle class -- the 100 million people with an average annual income of 60,000 yuan (US$7,250) -- appear increasingly keen on Western art, films, sport and music, most of which were banned during the Cultural Revolution. With their numbers expected to quadruple by 2010, this rising class are attracting a growing number of big international names.
In July David Beckham and Real Madrid toured here for the first time, playing friendly matches to huge crowds. Beijing TV carries bullfights from Spain, as well as international tennis and golf. Even in the countryside, buses show dubbed videos of Jerry Bruckheimer blockbusters.
Whether foreign artists make money in China, however, is another matter altogether. With little knowledge about the market, it is hard for promoters to know who or what will be a hit.
Although they are popular around the world, the opera of the Three Tenors and the Icelandic pop of Bjork failed to draw crowds at earlier groundbreaking concerts in China.
Plans for a first tour by the Rolling Stones this year appear to have fallen through, firstly because of the SARS outbreak and more recently because of red tape.
There is also little promotional benefit because everything from Hollywood films to Harry Potter books is pirated on a huge scale.
Industry analysts estimate that 95 percent of all audio CDs and 90 percent of all film DVDs sold in China are fakes.
But people are willing to pay relatively huge sums to see concerts. For many of the newly affluent, seeing a foreign show is as much a status symbol as owning a new car -- both of which were undreamable 10 years ago.
"I'd pay up to 500 yuan (US$60) for a Rolling Stones ticket," said Wang Wei, a 27-year-old engineer, who says his salary has tripled in the past four years.
"I love Queen and Metallica and I prefer Hollywood movies to Chinese ones. Western musicians and filmmakers are more creative," he said. "Chinese rock stars are just imitators."
Although hundreds of thousands of people among the 1.3 billion population live on less than US$1 a day, 50,000 Riverdance tickets sold out despite prices ranging from 3 yuan to nearly 1,280 yuan. The organizers claim they had to put on two extra shows to meet the demand.
But Riverdance managers estimate that they will lose ?500,000 (US$837,000) in China this year because they have not been given a share of receipts.
However, executive producer Julian Erskine says the tour is an investment in the future.
"It is the last major untapped market for us. We are going to Beijing and Shanghai as a way of testing the waters," he told Variety magazine.
"If it works, we will plan a 12-city tour for about 15 weeks next year," he said.
"We ultimately hope to open up a circuit in the Far East, of which China would be the hub," he said.
But language, distance and heavy censorship look set to slow the advance of global culture. Even Riverdance, which was enthusiastically promoted by the state-controlled media, appears not to have got its message across completely.
"Although I am not a Christian, I found it incredibly moving," said one delighted spectator during the interval of last Friday's show.
"I didn't realize Scottish culture was so fantastic," he said.
He was not the only one to make the same mistake.
A Chinese diplomat’s violent threat against Japanese Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi following her remarks on defending Taiwan marks a dangerous escalation in East Asian tensions, revealing Beijing’s growing intolerance for dissent and the fragility of regional diplomacy. Chinese Consul General in Osaka Xue Jian (薛劍) on Saturday posted a chilling message on X: “the dirty neck that sticks itself in must be cut off,” in reference to Takaichi’s remark to Japanese lawmakers that an attack on Taiwan could threaten Japan’s survival. The post, which was later deleted, was not an isolated outburst. Xue has also amplified other incendiary messages, including one suggesting
Chinese Consul General in Osaka Xue Jian (薛劍) on Saturday last week shared a news article on social media about Japanese Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi’s remarks on Taiwan, adding that “the dirty neck that sticks itself in must be cut off.” The previous day in the Japanese House of Representatives, Takaichi said that a Chinese attack on Taiwan could constitute “a situation threatening Japan’s survival,” a reference to a legal legal term introduced in 2015 that allows the prime minister to deploy the Japan Self-Defense Forces. The violent nature of Xue’s comments is notable in that it came from a diplomat,
Before 1945, the most widely spoken language in Taiwan was Tai-gi (also known as Taiwanese, Taiwanese Hokkien or Hoklo). However, due to almost a century of language repression policies, many Taiwanese believe that Tai-gi is at risk of disappearing. To understand this crisis, I interviewed academics and activists about Taiwan’s history of language repression, the major challenges of revitalizing Tai-gi and their policy recommendations. Although Taiwanese were pressured to speak Japanese when Taiwan became a Japanese colony in 1895, most managed to keep their heritage languages alive in their homes. However, starting in 1949, when the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) enacted martial law
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