Feature: Biography project aims to revive Beijingers' hutong memory

Beijingers boast that under each brick of the ancient capital's hutongs hides a story. They are not exaggerating.

In an ordinary house in a cramped hutong, or narrow alley, to the south of Tian'anmen Square, Wang Jinghu is penning a story about his great-grandfather Wang Fengqing, an eminent Peking Opera master.

Wang Jinghu, 62, a retired mechanical engineer, has no real connection to the performing art, but pride pervades his words when he talks about the achievements of his ancestors, such as an Imperial Yellow Jacket gifted to his great-grandfather by Empress Dowager Cixi of the Qing Dynasty (1644-1911).

The Imperial Yellow Jacket, or "huangmagua," was the highest honor a Qing emperor or empress could extend to officials or ordinary people.

Today, few people might know of what happened in the courtyard about a century ago, but Wang says the stories not only belong to his family but also to history of Peking Opera, which is considered as the quintessence of Chinese culture.

Wang's great-grandfather Wang Fengqing made his name as "laosheng," the role of an old man. His unique sonorous tenor won him fame. He was often invited to perform in the Forbidden City for the royal family with his elder brother Wang Yaoqing, who played the "huadan," or young female role.

These two masters taught their pupils in the very courtyard where Wang now lives, including Mei Lanfang (1894-1961), one of the most famous Peking Opera artists in modern Chinese theater.

Wang Jinghu is writing for a biography project which collects stories related to Shitou Community, part of Dashilar, one of the last few historical streets with a complete layout of hutongs, just south of the Forbidden City.

So far, two collections of "Stories of Hutong" have been printed, 500 runs of each. Wang's writing is for the third episode.

BIOGRAPHY FOR THE ORDINARY

The biography project was initiated in the summer of 2015 as part of efforts for community revitalization, according to Li Xiaohui, Communist Party secretary of the neighborhood's residents' committee.

The idea occurred to Li during a community revitalization training program that year.

"I was impressed by the teacher's idea of a community cultural map. I was struck by how it was perfect for my community, as Dashilar is a place full of stories, but only a handful of people know about its history," Li says.

Li organized more than 10 meetings, to collect the memories of the community's elderly residents.

But who could write the stories? That was the problem, says Li. As most of the 3,000 residents have little more than a junior middle school education, so it was hard to find writers.

Some college students participated in this project but many left before it was complete. So, members of the residents' committee took up the baton. They attended oral history lessons and learned the ropes of interview and writing.

Most of the stories in the first two collections are about ordinary residents, including a craftsman and a retired school teacher.

Wang Jinghu volunteered to be the writer when he found out that his great grandfather, who died in 1959 when Wang was only five years old, would be included.

Wang has handwritten more than 20 pages. The mechanical engineer is not unfamiliar with pens and ink, but "unlike engineering drawings, writing is not an easy job," he says. "The pen didn't seem to be a good match for me in the beginning, but everyday I am getting better."

The job became even harder when Wang was faced with the lack of documents. He has used all that have been preserved in his home, but that is not enough to support the story.

So he has to find other alternatives, such as writings about or by other Peking Opera performers who were apprentices of his ancestors or kept close relations with them, just in search for any mention of his family.

Another source, however, is intangible and only exists in Wang's memory, where the man would find himself sitting on the chair in that courtyard, listening to the stories about his ancestors by the elders in the family.

TANGIBLE THREAT

Hutong communities began to take shape in Beijing in the 13th century. Statistics in 1949 showed that about 1,300 alleys in the capital were called hutong, but habitually, hutong may also refer to other alleys that unnecessarily bear the name, such as "xiang" (lane) and "jie" (street). As an old adage says, there are as many unnamed hutongs in Beijing as there are hairs on a bull.

The centuries old architectural legacies faced threat of disappearance when urban development of the ancient capital accelerated amid the roar of bulldozers in the 1990s. Fortunately, the Beijing municipal government decided to leave the last hutongs in situ, thanks to calls for protection efforts.

However, the problems facing hutong preservation today are less about demolition than intangible heritage protection, which has become more imminent since hutongs were saved.

Non-material culture of hutong is fading with the encroachment of modern civilization and the flux of young people, who have moved to other places to find more convenient living conditions, such as central heating and private toilet.

"Indeed the physical complex has remained, but hutongs are much more than buildings," says Li Xiaohui. "People and their lives are an integral part of hutong lives and history. That's why we want to record their stories."

REVITALIZATION

The biography project is supported by Wutong Community College, a non-profit organization focusing on community revitalization, which offers 5,000 yuan (about 700 U.S. dollars) for the first episode of the stories.

The group "wants to highlight the value of ordinary hutong residents in passing on Beijing's traditions and culture," says Li Jie, director and founder of Wutong.

"Their life stories, though perhaps uneventful, are reflections of the great changes ordinary Beijing residents have witnessed, and, thus, should not be ignored," the director says.

"For the future generations of hutong residents, I think they should first know where they are from, then they can be aware of where they are going," she says.

Xu Hua, a voluntary academic director of the biography project, says that it is very important to explore the stories behind hutongs, where both celebrities and common people once mixed, as "residents there are the epitome of Beijing's culture and traditions."

Xu sees the biography project as a very small step towards a more ambitious program -- the oral history of hutong communities.

Xu believes an oral history program may help cultivate a sense of community among residents. "We may begin with personal or family history by helping people record their own stories and trace their family trees."

Li Xiaohui, the community secretary, also wants to do more. She says that stories about hutongs, once the blood vessels of Beijing, are a valuable resource for the studies of Beijing's history and culture.

She hopes one day the stories of her neighborhood can be put onto stage for visitors to Dashilar.

"When visitors can sit down in our hutong and listen to or watch our stories, they can take a piece of Beijing away with them." Endi