Like many other stars it was Wei Li-li's (韋麗麗) mother who first put her on the stage, aged 14, at a theater in Taipei.
Three decades later Wei is still singing for her supper, under the stage name Yi Xuan (翊瑄), though she now runs the Red Top Artists Theater (紅頂藝人劇場) in Ximending, one of the few remaining red envelope clubs.
Wei has traveled around the world, but her career follows the trajectory of red envelope clubs, from their early days to the heydays in the mid-1980s and up to the present.
PHOTOS: JULES QUARTLY, TAIPEI TIMES
“My family was quite poor and my mother's friend introduced me to the singing hall. I just did what my mother wanted me to do. I was young and scared, but people liked me, maybe they thought I was cute or had a nice smile or something,” Wei said, explaining her initial popularity.
“I was young and my singing was not too bad. After all, people always like kids. Then, my singing improved as I practiced every day and became more mature. Of course, at 18, I was quite beautiful and this was attractive to the audience.”
At that time, in the late 1970s, live performances were a big feature of Taipei's nightlife, much of which was based in Ximending. Wei had no problem making a name for herself and even went on tour to Hong Kong.
This all changed at 21, however, when she made the decision to join her sister in America and create a different kind of future for herself. Maybe Wei was burned out from having performed for so long at such a young age, but fate also intervened in the form of a serious car accident that robbed her of her voice.
“I was the passenger, my friend was the driver. She was just 18 and it was her first car. She didn't even make it for a mile before we went straight into another car,” Wei said and rolled up her trousers to show off a scar on her leg.
“I screamed so much that I couldn't control my voice any more. It wouldn't go up or down, there was no control at all. I couldn't sing. I had a bright future, I could have been a big star. I was very sad … too sad to sing any more.”
“I tried to change my life and become like everyone else. I worked in a factory, as a cashier, as a waitress, in a fried chicken store and opened up a restaurant. I learned how to run a business with friends and become independent.”
Wei pursued the American dream for seven years and said she “learned a lot about true friendships, who I was and what I was. I discovered that being rich, having a big house or car didn't matter so much, it's the small things that count. I learned from America to be straight and to be myself. If this hadn't happened, then maybe my career would have been over at 29.”
Instead she was in New York when the call came from a friend who had a nightclub in Houston, asking her to sing for two weeks
“I said no, initially, I don't sing any more, but they said, ‘No worries, just talk.’ Inside my heart I was still a singer, the fact that I got the offer and they still liked me, touched me. So I started practicing again and it was difficult, I couldn't even remember one song. But I got some records and found my voice had come back even better.”
This experience convinced her that her future was in singing rather than waiting tables and she returned to Hong Kong where she had a contract with a radio station. Then she went to Yogyarkarta in Indonesia on another singing tour. There she met her husband, a businessman, with whom she had a child. The marriage did not last long and Wei made the decision to return to Taipei.
“Everything had changed. This was my toughest time. First I found out there was not really any money in singing any more. My income, I realized, would come from the customers. I had to socialize with them and they would give me my money. I was so embarrassed.
“What should I do? Go back to the US and become a normal person or accept and change? It took me two months to think about it and I remember my girlfriends talking to me and urging me to stay in Taiwan and change my attitude. They said if other singers managed to survive, then why couldn't I.”
This is how Wei became a red envelope club singer. And though she has tried other businesses (such as cosmetics and clothing) she always returned to the stage. She has owned three red envelope clubs in the past 18 years.
She explained her job thus: “Before I sing, I say hello to the customers. I sing and then I socialize and encourage them to come back to see another show. I can't say I'm tired or I just want to sing, this is my job. If you don't say hello and smile why should they tip you with red envelopes?”
Though Wei agrees that most of the singers at her club make most of their money from red envelopes, she draws a distinction between Red Top and other red envelope clubs in Ximending, where socializing and relationships between singers and customers are the basis of their business.
“Some customers want to see a show, others want to make friends. At other red envelope clubs the singers will go with customers for money. There are no rules. We are more like a theater because we put on performances, such as the lady-boy shows we held for the past four months, even though we lost a lot of money.”
As for the future, Wei said it was her dream as a child to own her own club and sing, but admitted, “We have an older crowd and there are not so many of us any more.”
“Even so, red envelope clubs will last forever because singers need to earn money and this is a place they can do that. Young men get older too. Even though business is getting slower, there will always be a demand. Women and song are universal themes.”
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