The address I found was a shop selling Buddhist religious articles, wedged between a karate studio and a drugstore. I stopped and scratched my head, wondering whether I had made some mistake. Then the woman in the shop caught sight of me, came out to the street and said the master was expecting me. However, I saw no visible sign that I had come to the right place until she moved to lead me up some stairs to the workshop - I noticed, then, a sheet of bright red silk stretched tautly over a wooden frame resting near the curb. Embroidered on the silk were two shining blue dragons, writhing and intertwining among white clouds. Maybe I had come to the right place after all.
The walls of the workshop were hung with swathes of brightly embroidered cloth in various stages of transformation into costumes. Whether the character is hero or villain, aristocrat or commoner, it must be expressed in the design of his costume - in Peking Opera, based on the colorful and extravagant military uniforms of the Ming Dynasty.
A dazzling white silk robe with silver trim, hanging from a wall, caught my eye immediately. Master Chao explained to me that this robe was to be worn for the role of Yue Fei, the Chinese national hero of the Sung Dynasty, who refused to surrender to the Northern Chin invaders.
The occupation, to say the least, is a colorful process. (File photo)
Yue Fei, who lived from 1103 to 1141, is one of the most mythologized characters in Chinese history. He is a heroic warrior, a patriot and the tragically frustrated savior of his country. He is usually portrayed as a powerful wielder of sword and bow, endowed with super human courage but, additionally, as a sharp, clever strategist and tactician. He fought against the Northern Chin with great success, but was ordered by the Emperor to retreat. Later, he was accused of plotting to revolt and was killed in prison.
Master Chao designed this costume to personify Yue Fei and portray his heroic qualities. On the front of the white robe, three large, round insignia were arranged symmetrically - one on the chest, two over the mid-section - each depicting a silver-embroidered eagle with wings arched back, claws out stretched and beak opened slightly. The birds are poised in a gust of wind over a churning, foaming stormy sea and look over the clouds at a yellow embroidered sun.
The eagle symbolizes Yue Fei as a valorous general; the churning sea expresses the turbulence of his times; the sun represents the dawning of the new age and hope for future generations.
The dramatic presence of the costume reeks with subtle force. (File photo)
Golden flowers are embroidered on vines that intertwine down the sleeves, down the collar and along the sides of the robe. The sleeves end in blue cuffs with yellow embroidery. This is Yue Fei's outer garment. When it is necessary for him to do battle, he will take off his robe, revealing what was as yet an unfinished red and blue dragon gown beneath it.
Master Chao's workshop is small and neatly arranged. I observed one of his six assistants operating one of the workshop's two sewing machines. He was stitching the hem on the collar of a costume for Lu Bu, the fierce Han Dynasty general. The design embroidered on the collar was of a white crane, taking off with wings outstretched.
There were three large work tables. At one, a craftsman hand painted designs on silk cloth. At a second, a tailor was laying out and cutting silk cloth to match a large brown-paper pattern. The third table was for ironing, stretching and arranging the cloth shapes that were to be sewn together.
Piles of silken cords lie in rich-hued disorder. (File photo)
Master Chao is sixty years old and has been making costumes for forty-five years, starting as a teenager in Fukien Province. But, in addition to making costumes, he is also an avid Peking Opera fan. He knows virtually all of the stories and characters of Peking Opera, and has definite opinions on what special costume each character must have. If you order a costume from Master Chao, you need only to tell him which character it is for; he will design and make an authentic, traditionally-correct costume. Because of the voluminous style of the clothes, he insists that all he needs to know is your height. You don't need to come in to be measured, since he knows how much allowance to make for the various types of padding, undergarments and foot coverings that the performer will need for the character he will play.
Making the costumes is slow, tedious and difficult. First, the appropriate pattern is drawn and made into a cardboard cut-out stencil. This stencil is then placed on the cloth that is to be used, and chalk dust is sprinkled on. Then the stencil is removed and the design is painted on, over the chalk. Stencils are used to preserve the symmetry and balance of the design, which must be repeated on left and right and on front and back of the costume.
A blue dragon shouts for attention (left); A red garment is heavy with gorgeous symbology (right). (File photo)
The next step in making the costume is to determine the proper color combinations, and to send the cloth out to be embroidered. Master Chao and his work shop do not do the embroidering themselves; they specialize, and the cost in time and labor would be too high. When the embroidered cloth comes back, it has been perfectly worked, but it looks crumpled and lacks luster. Such cloth is stretched onto a wooden frame to smooth out the wrinkles and a kind of glue or sizing is smeared on the back surface. Then it is hung out to dry. After it has dried, the cloth has body, shape and resilience, and it is smooth and shiny. While it is still on the frame, silver or golden trim is stitched on to outline and highlight the forms embroidered on the cloth. Then it is taken off the frame, cut into appropriate shape and sewn to a lining. It is now ready to be assembled into a costume.
Master Chao and his assistants are very busy. He and his shop supply all of the major Peking Opera companies in Taiwan: the Lu Kuang, Hai Kuang, Ta P'eng, Fu Hsing and Ming T'uo opera troupes, and also an opera troupe in Kaohsiung.
Additionally, Peking Opera companies in Canada and the United States place their orders with Master Chao. He also makes costumes for Taiwanese Opera, which are completely different from the costumes used in Peking Opera.
Clearly a person to reckon with - The character is established before the actor says a single word. (File photo)
I stopped for a moment to consider the amount of business Master Chao must do. Then, in a rather Chinese way, I half-commented and half-inquired his business indeed must not be bad. In an even more Chinese way, he abruptly cut me off, shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, indicating that even the smallest possibility of such a notion being even remotely true was nonsense.
Although he admitted to being busy, and said that he only takes two days off a month, he insisted that he only makes a modest living. I persisted, saying that such beautiful outfits could hardly be found abroad, and then only at exorbitant prices. He held firm: be that as it may, he only charges one price and he isn't out to make a fortune, but is content just to practice his craft and to earn a living.
When Master Chao quoted the prices on some of the costumes he had made, I was really surprised. These costumes of hand-embroidered silk, fit for emperors and kings, and which took several weeks to make, did not cost several thousand U.S. dollars; the most expensive was only US$250.
The banners’ signify military force; these splendid costumes speak in detail about the qualities of their wearers. (File photo)
Master Chao convinced me beyond a doubt of his devotion to his craft and to his art. And he seemed more than a little sad when he told me that nobody is studying with him - that he has no apprentices. He sighed, "Nobody is interested in this kind of thing any more.... "