SHADOW puppets have existed in China for thousands of years.

Legend has it that when the wife of emperor Hanwudi (156-87 BC) died the emperor missed her very much. A Taoist monk moved by the emperor's heartfelt sorrow, cut out a profile of the imperial concubine and placed it behind the curtains in her former bedroom. Seeing the shadow of his beloved wife, the emperor felt as if she had returned to accompany him again.

Such was said to be the origin of the shadow puppet play, once widespread all over China but almost forgotten today.

Taoists were among the first practitioners of shadow puppet plays in China, often conducting a religious ritual for the dead in the day time and staging a shadow play at night.

It was not a craft passed down through the family, because entertainment and show business were viewed as low professions, compared at times with prostitution. Its craftsmen and actors only earned a very low income. That also explains why the craft was passed down among Taoist monks.

The props required by a shadow play group were not heavy, so the group could travel from village to village at their leisure during the farming seasons. During the annual peak period for shadow plays, several shows might be held at the same time.

Rescue efforts

Shadow plays reached the height of popularity during the Qing Dynasty (1644-1911). Different puppet characteristics showed up in different regions, reflecting the local circumstances and cultural influences.

In North China, the puppets were made from donkey skins, which were thick and non-transparent. In order to make the shadow clear and vivid, folk artists used to thin out the detailed parts.

But in South China, the puppets were made from semi-transparent sheep skin and painted with different coloured images. "We fasten the skin on a board, scrape the fat off the surface, and then sterilize it," said 69-year-old shadow puppet maker and operator, Xu Shunlin. "It would decompose if not sterilized." In this way sheep skin was turned into hard sheets a little bit thicker than cardboard, ready to be carved and painted.

Xu started his apprenticeship in the craft in his early 20s, but none of the puppets he made or used in the early years exist now. "They go mouldy easily. You have to bring them out and bathe them in the sun."

Beside natural reasons, many puppets were destroyed in the 1970s during various social upheavals.

A few years ago, Xu, who has worked as an architectural engineer for decades, found a new material ideal for making shadow puppets, when he picked up the craft again. This perfect material consists of plastic pieces taken from coke and water bottles. "It is transparent, thin, and will never decompose," Xu said.

Zhu Maijun of the Xinjing Cultural Centre has known Xu for years and suggested to Xu that he could organize a troupe and present shadow plays again.

A few elderly men joined the group, most of whom were competent performers with traditional Chinese musical instruments.

Xu himself took the most important role in the group, called the "upper hand", operating most of the characters. His assistant, called the "under hand", is responsible for preparing all the puppets ready to be staged and then operate and speak a few minor roles in the show.

The remaining four people make up a little musical band. This group of six or seven is necessary because the group is also supposed to build the stage. They put up a frame with a piece of white cloth spread on it as a screen. A lamp - which used to be a candle - illuminates the screen from behind. The "upper hand" sits behind the lamp, operating the puppets as well as singing and speaking for the characters.

Shadow plays, unlike Peking Opera, are presented in various dialects. Xu's performance, for instance, would be very difficult to understand in any other city than Shanghai.

The small screen, whose modest dimensions enables the "upper hand" to operate the puppets with both hands, also places limitation upon the maximum size of the audience

Xu and his group recently presented a show to primary school students, trying to introduce the traditional craft to today's children.

Even the school teachers didn't have any understanding of the craft and prepared a room without curtains for the group, one that would have made it impossible to present the shadows.

The story Xu presented was about Yue Fei, a national hero and renowned general fighting against invaders on the northern border during the 12th century.

The children watched the puppets with great curiosity. During the interval of the show, they were invited onto the stage to try and operate the puppets themselves.

"How did you do that?" one boy kept asking Xu, unable to comprehend how he had managed to present a scene in which the hero chopped the head off an enemy in a fight.

All the puppets' heads can be changed. Actually, the heads and bodies are kept separately. The "under hand" will put the right head on the body when a character is ready to "mount the stage".

Xu's group finds few opportunities to give performances. The Xinjing Cultural Centre has an ambitious plan to promote shadow puppet, teaching the craft to more people and introducing new stories into the play. "We are trying our best to rescue the traditional art," said Xu Jianqing, director of the centre.

The Shanghai Art Museum has a permanent exhibition of shadow puppets with a quite complete explanation presented alongside. Residents may also expect to see shadow puppets in the upcoming Folk Art Festival, opening in the Shanghai Exhibition Centre on March 18.