Wang Yuanyuan

    cheekywang@hotmailcom

    MANY street artists engage in a sort of contest on the square next to Shenzhen Concert Hall in Futian District to see who can manage to attract the largest crowd.

    And there is one band that regularly succeeds in this informal contest — attracting people with their heartfelt performance and charismatic band members.

    “They are such a weird band. An old man performs with several passionate young men. Whether they are performing a popular rock song or classic folk music, they can nail it with their unique style, with the traditional erhu blending perfectly with the guitars and the drums. It is only a matter of time before they become famous,” said Wu Xin, who often witnesses the scene as he paints art in the street of the square.

    This band is “Yuanshangcao,” or “Grass on a Prairie,” and includes erhuist Luo Hongjun, 57, the eldest of the band’s five members.

    “I like playing the erhu. It is the best way for me to communicate with the world. Today’s people don’t know much about the erhu, so I want to allow people to understand more about the beauty of the instrument through my performances,” Luo said.

    Luo and his band participated in several charity concerts and community performances in Shenzhen. And, after hearing his performance in the street, a Taiwan cycling club has also signed a 10-year contract with him to perform at their annual cycling festivals.

    “I have confidence in my skills and performance and am not afraid to compete with any professional erhuist. I just hope that I may have the chance to tour around the country to learn more folk culture and improve my performances,” he said.

    Learning the erhu alone

    Born in Huanggang, Hubei Province, Luo was a lonely child.

    “My parents were teachers, which meant they ‘had a bad background,’” he said, referring to the Cultural Revolution. “Everybody looked down on me, and I did not have any friends to play with,” he added.

    On a train to Beijing at the age of 8, Luo heard the sound of the erhu for the first time. “I do not know why — but when I heard the sound it touched my heart. It was as if it were speaking right to my heart,” he said.

    The lonely boy managed to make his dream come true. “I didn’t have a teacher, so I taught myself everything. I learnt to read music and play the erhu. I didn’t have any friends, so I had a lot of time to practice,” he said.

    After graduating from high school, Luo went to work at a factory in Huanggang and continued playing the erhu. “At that time, it was not a good thing to learn art and music because people were expected to do something that would be considered more serious. Many people thought that only two types of people would learn the erhu, a Beijing opera house’s erhuist and a blind fortuneteller. So, once again, others saw me as a silly and ignorant man,” he said.

    In a bid to prove his worth, Luo wrote a letter to Zhang Shao, a famous artist, and, much to his surprise, Zhang asked Wang Guotong, the best erhuist in China in the 1960s, to write Luo a letter. “Wang encouraged me to keep improving. The letter became huge news in the small town and gave me great confidence,” he said.

    A strong street artist

    In 2001, Luo moved to Shenzhen with his family in the hope that he could earn more money. “My wife and I had lost our jobs and we had to make some money for our daughter and son, so I decided to play the erhu on the street,” he said.

    “In China, there is not any exact definition for street artist, so many people think that a street artist is like a beggar or garbage collector. Once I was even sent to a shelter home because I was playing the erhu on the street,” he said.

    Before meeting the band in 2010, Luo’s life performing on the street was very hard. “Sometimes I had to play at some cheap restaurants. Once, in Bao’an District, I played eight songs for a man and only got 20 yuan (US$3.17) and a slap in the face. There were many misunderstanding and humiliations, but I made it through,” he said.

    The years of experience on the street helped Luo understand people’s tastes and expectations and form his own unique style. Most importantly, he met the other members in the band.

    “When we were first established, there were six members, including two old men. The 65-year-old bamboo flutist Chen Jizhao went back home last year due to family reasons. I hope he can come back one day,” he said.

    The other members are 32-year-old guitarist Li Tao, 28-year-old guitarist Wei Yunfei, 25-year-old base and vocalist Wei Wei, and 28-year-old drummer Pan Mengjia.

    Luo and the other members very much enjoy their time together. “I am kind of a spiritual leader of the band as I am now the eldest. If they have any problems and questions, they come to me for help,” he said.

    However, Luo has never seen himself as the leader of the band. “When talking about music and skills, we are all equal. There are many things that I have to learn from them and they also need my help and advice about classic music. Of course, I am the true leader when we have problems with the law enforcement team from the urban management department. I am the eldest, so I have to protect them and speak for them when we are in trouble,” he said.

    Although Luo is now part of a band, he still has to play alone on the street in his spare time to make ends meet. “As a street band, we can’t make much money and I have a family. I am still proud of myself that I sent my two children to university by playing the erhu in the street,” he said.

    Doing something

    for street art

    Though the square next to Shenzhen Concert Hall is now a popular place for Shenzhen residents to enjoy traditional art at the weekend, and there has been a growing number of street artists choosing to showcase their talents there regularly, the urban management regulation prohibits such activities.

    “Sometimes there are law enforcement teams trying to persuade us to leave the square in the middle of our performances. I understand them. They aren’t doing anything wrong. We aren’t either, but we don’t have another place like this to do these things,” he said.

    Luo hopes that the city will create more space for street art and street culture because these activities can bring comfort to many people, both the artists themselves and members of the public in the audience. “This kind of comfort is very important for an immigrant city like Shenzhen. It can reduce crime and suicide, so good street culture should be protected,” he said.

    Luo also hopes that the square can become a legal venue for them to perform. “World-class Western music is performed in a world-class concert hall right next to us. Why not give us a place so that we can play our music for those who are interested, and allow everybody to enjoy the atmosphere of low-cost art,” he said.

    Last year, with the assistance of the city’s media, Luo sought to become a sort of representative of street art in the city and tried to convince the relevant authorities of the worthiness of his cause. During their conversations, he cried several times. “I don’t know if all these efforts will work or not, we are still waiting, but I will not give up my efforts to gain rights for young artists,” he said.

    “Today’s people don’t know much about the erhu, so I want to allow people to understand more about the beauty of the instrument through my performances.”

    — Luo Hongjun, 57, an amateur erhuist in a rock band