Beware of the stooge who is licensed to shrill

You need a license to practice certain professions for example, to operate on a patient or to handle a lawsuit. But do you need a license to sing and dance and get paid for it?

Obviously, some of our officials believe so and their belief is so strong that they have turned it into a regulation.

If you think this will winnow out the bad singers, think again. Many of them are already affiliated with professional companies and have sugar daddies or sugar mommas who protect them. An entry barrier for the entertainment industry will only serve the interests of those already inside it.

To get a license, one needs to pass a test. So, arguably, Pavarotti won't be able to become a singer if he were a Chinese youth in his early 20s, because he cannot read music. Ah Bing, the blind erhu player who created the most hauntingly beautiful erhu work in Chinese history would have to make do with begging on the street. Or, maybe, we'd be forbidden to drop him a coin or two, because never in a thousand years would he be able to obtain a musician's license.

China is extremely rich in folk music, and most of those who carry on the tradition are farmers, shepherds, hunters and boatmen who can barely read, let alone pass any test. In last year's television contest, a shepherd shocked the nation when he failed to recognize China's national flag. But where could he be educated while herding a flock of sheep in a deep mountain? He was not to blame for his flagging memory, suggested the most fastidious judge.

That shepherd will probably get his singing license. He has already joined a regular troupe in Beijing, one affiliated with the army nonetheless. Very often, the very best of the bunch are plucked from the hinterland and thrown into such organizations, where they receive "professional" training.

That training, supposedly based on the Italian operatic theory, will remove much of the singers' uniqueness. As one folk singer revealed: "I used to sing three to five hours a day, and I never got tired. Now, after scientific learning, I can only sing a fraction of that amount.

"And I probably have to retire by the age of 60, while the rural folks in my hometown can sing into their 70s."

The so-called "national singing style" homogenizes all folk and ethnic singing from around China into one generic technique that produces a mellifluous sound devoid of any character and often associated with eulogies of the most saccharine kind. You'll know what I'm talking about if you turn on the tube and see the traditionally coiffed and garbed lady who warbles in faux smiles. I heard officials love it.

With singing coaches obsessed with turning individual singers into carbon copies of one particular model and a new barricade to block raw talent from emerging from the grassroots, we can expect more of the same.

But we'll be ensured of our rights as consumers, because all of these singers will carry licenses and, hopefully, their professors' stamp of approval.

Note perfect, they'll elicit your ceremonious applause with their simulated joy.

(China Daily 04/24/2007 page20)