In ancient China, every city worth its salt had a drum tower to sound the time; in the Socialist era the requisite landmark was a massive square (usually called “People’s”) for public political gatherings; in the current era of state capitalism the architectural status symbol of choice is an imposing, expensive “grand theater.”
This phenomenon is so well entrenched that grand theaters open every few months. By most estimates, 40 or 50 have been built in the past decade or so, with many more under construction; Shandong province alone will open three new grand theaters (in Jinan, Dezhou, and Linyi) by 2013.
Even in this increasingly crowded field the new $240 million Tianjin Grand Theater stands out for the boldness of its ambition and the courage of conviction demonstrated by its general manager, Qian Cheng.
“The world is blind, just people seeking money,” said Mr. Qian as he strode through a 250-meter, or about 800-foot, corridor that traverses the theater and which he plans to convert into an art gallery.
“Good values, heroism — people don’t believe in them anymore,” he said, adding that, “I think art can be the best influence, toward love and values. The influence of art is the only way.”
Like most grand theaters, the Tianjin Grand Theater houses an opera house (1,600 seats), concert hall (1,200 seats) and multi-function hall (400 seats).
As is also the norm, it was designed by a prestigious foreign architecture firm — in this case the Germany firm gmp-Architekten — and has state-of-the-art everything, from mobile phone jammers and LED screens to the portable pipe organ commissioned from a Czech organ builder. Whereas most grand theaters are built as stand-alone structures, however, this one, in this city south of Beijing on the Chinese coast, is part of a massive new 90-hectare, or about 220-acre, cultural center that includes the Tianjin Museum, Natural History Museum, Library, Art Gallery and Youth Activity Center, as well as the requisite shopping mall.
The buildings surround a stunning man-made lake at the center of which is a musical fountain (imported from Las Vegas).
Unlike many other grand theaters — an unfortunate number of which stand empty their first few years — the Tianjin Grand Theater also has a performance-packed opening season and a clear vision for its future.
The first opera-house performances began on April 29 with the Moscow State Stanislavsky and Nemirovich-Danchenko Music Theatre Ballet performing Prokofiev’s “Romeo and Juliet,” followed by Tchaikovsky’s “Swan Lake.” The concert hall was inaugurated with a series of recitals that began on May 1. The first appearance by a major international orchestra comes June 3, when the Philadelphia Orchestra (under Charles Dutoit) travels to Tianjin as part of its four-city China “residency.”
The Shanghai Quartet will play on June 6 and the Emerson Quartet on June 22; other summer events include a run of the musical “Peter Pan,” the Bard College Conservatory Orchestra (June 19), and the christening of the pipe organ with a series of recitals, workshops and concerts by the Czech organist Drahoslav Gric.
All told, the Tianjin Grand Theater will present 15 foreign orchestras in its first season (concluding with the Chicago Symphony under Riccardo Muti on Feb. 4), as well as an eclectic selection of dance (including Cuba’s Tropicana Dance Show and the ballets “Don Quixote” and “La Bayedere”).
Despite its promising start, the theater faces considerable challenges.
The biggest is staff training and development, according to Wray Armstrong, the theater’s international programming adviser. “Nobody in Tianjin has ever run an opera house, or anything like it.”
Theater saturation is another potential issue; some prominent Beijing-based culture figures have recently condemned the whole grand theater construction boom as part of a massively wasteful “cultural great leap forward.” Tianjin is building yet another large performing arts complex, the Yujiapu Arts Center, in the city’s Binhai New Area, which is scheduled to open in 2016. Lincoln Center in New York has been hired as an adviser on the project.
The Tianjin Grand Theater intends to differentiate itself by emphasizing arts education. More than 2,000 square meters, or about 21,000 square feet, of space in the theater have been set aside to develop an education center. There will be 50 to 100 practice rooms in which lessons can be given, and an education component incorporated into as many programs as possible.
“We want to build Asia’s best arts education center,” said Mr. Qian.
Arts education and community outreach — and excellence in implementing both — have been a hallmark of Mr. Qian’s career. Back in 1993, he signed a 10-year contract to manage the then-ailing Beijing Concert Hall, which was meant as a venue for classical music but used to show films and host fashion shows. Mr. Qian implemented a new management strategy that he described at the time as “using culture to support culture.”
He recruited ensembles himself (rather than waiting for them to knock on the door, as was standard practice), replaced rental agreements with profit-sharing arrangements, founded the magazine ArtsToday.com, started a series of weekend teaching concerts, and established a popular summer music camp for children. The number of serious music performances held in the Concert Hall increased tenfold, the venture became profitable, and Mr. Qian became a celebrity of sorts, profiled by China Central Television in 1999 as one of 20 key figures in the era of “reform and opening.”
But on April 15, 2002, Mr. Qian left his office for lunch and never returned. Colleagues knew that something was amiss when members of the economic crimes division of the Beijing Public Security Bureau appeared at another performance venue for which he had assumed responsibility. Mr. Qian was first accused of evading taxes and then of embezzlement, but many in the music world felt he had been detained because of resentment over the success — and profitability — of the Beijing Concert Hall.
“Basically, it was too hot,” Mr. Qian said. “People got red eyes,” invoking a Chinese idiom for jealousy.
He was imprisoned in Beijing for two years and then transferred to Tianjin, where he grew up, for three more.
“But there was lots of attention from outside, and after that I got better treatment,” he explained. “Many people wrote letters every year to the Chinese People’s Political Consultative Conference.”
He was released early and re-started his company — Propel — with his wife Christine and won the Tianjin Grand Theater contract. His faith in the transformative power of culture remains undiminished, and he does not believe he will encounter problems in Tianjin, where he said things are “simpler” than Beijing. The imprint of his prison experience lingers, but he is determined to make the best of it. The last book he read in prison was “War and Peace,” which he is hoping to stage as the Grand Theater’s first opera.
“There’s no fairness in the world,” he said. “But you can encounter bad things and become worse, or you can become better — I chose to become better.”
