Reflection #5 - 一個人在途上‧皇后大盜
5) 一個人在途上‧皇后大盜
On opening night, as the last two songs of show, TMP performed 一個人在途上 followed by 皇后大盜. In subsequent shows, the song 石頭記 was inserted between these two songs. In my opinion, it was better to keep the two songs back-to-back. 一個人在途上 and 皇后大盜 both encapsulate a poetic poignancy that speaks to the Hong Kong experience, and yet, the two songs contrast each other. Credits go to 周耀輝for writing the lyrics of both songs.
一個人在途上, performed in its Mandarin version, has a Chinese flavour in its composition. It begins with a pastoral description. A shade of red permeates the stage.
塵埃在我後面蕩漾 蕩漾過後墜落地上
地上的黃土一樣 一樣的模樣
夕陽在我後面低沉 低沉的紅色染我身
我身後是我一生 一生的紅塵
The intense expressions of our performers are projected onto the screen: on the left, a close-up on the face of our vocalist, looking straight ahead, holding the mic in one hand; on the right, our guitarist’s hands strumming and pinching the chords. They remained in their spots throughout the song.
當一切開始的時候 身邊有你
不知道甚麼時候 失去了你
當時我明明是 緊緊的靠著你
忽然只剩下我自己
是否我走的太快 還是你走的太晚
當一切消失了以後 我懷念你
當從頭開始的時候 要拋棄你
是因為我害怕 再一次見到你
徒然想起了我自己
想念不想念之間 一個人一個世界
The words paint a picture of the protagonist journeying with “you”,” and then losing “you” and missing “you” when “you” had disappeared, and then having to abandon “you” when it all starts again. The “you” and the “I” intertwine in a struggle to stay together over a vast landscape and a long stretch of time.
At first, it seemed as if the video-image of the performers was sliding sideways across the screen as a metaphoric visual for the journey described in the words. Then it became apparent that this illusion was created by black rectangular obstructions, (think of wooden planks lifted from a railway track), which covered the height of the screen and slid horizontally across at close intervals, making it look as if the entire image was constantly moving across the screen. This subtle visual technique created a restless, fleeting experience that added volume to the song’s haunting quality.
皇后大盜, performed as the final song in all four shows, continued this epic imagery of moving and migrating across landscapes.
White lights dominated the stage. As the performance began, videos were played in fast-forward mode: pedestrians crossing the streets, passengers getting in and out of transports, vehicles navigating the roads, buildings being build, roads being paved, sunrise, sunset, etc. Above the screen, a digital clock (with year, month, day, minutes, and seconds) ticked away rapidly, starting from midnight of 1997.7.1
The song is a lyrical allegory that romanticizes Hong Kong’s final days as a colony. It begins with the protagonist escorting an unnamed symbolic figure (which can be interpreted as the Queen in a deliberate metaphor) through a treacherous odyssey while being chased and there is no turning back.
路中他緊緊挽她手臂
盡把過去以後都不理
繼續去路 已斷退路
浪蕩裡我跟你
路邊響起聲聲的廝殺
在追逼一雙珍寶竊賊
繼續去路 已斷退路
浪蕩裡我跟你 我跟你
我跟你一個
The protagonist’s dedication is expressed in a line that repeats: “Through all the storms and turmoil, I stand by ‘you’.” The chorus reiterates the same idea with romantic imagery and heroic rhetoric.
共你淒風苦雨 共你披星戴月
共你蒼蒼千里度一生
共你荒土飛縱 共你風中放逐
沙滾滾願彼此珍重過
The rapidly ticking clock juxtaposed with a collage of urban images took the audience on a nosedive into the future. By design, the song ended at the same time as the clock reached the year 2047, symbolic for being the year in which the administration of Hong Kong under the “One country, two systems” principle would end.
Ours is a people conditioned to live under deadlines. The original countdown started from the time of the Declaration in 1984, which started the process of a handover of power from the Queen to Beijing that would be completed in July 1997. Subsequently, Beijing promised that, for a period of fifty years following the handover, Hong Kong would be governed in a way that it would retain the social and political liberty it had enjoyed under British rule. Now, having only experienced fifteen of its fifty years as Special Administrative Region, the Hong Kong locals are already seeing traces of Mainland influence in many social and political aspects. These observations trigger fear, which fuels a majority of recent protests in our city.
However, unlike the countdown that was etched into our social psyche from 1984 to the 1997 handover which marked a foundational, structural change of power in Hong Kong, not many Hong Kong people are consciously counting down to the day when Hong Kong stops being “specially administrated” come 2047. Gradual change is already happening. We will continue to see, as we already see, at the macro level, Hong Kong’s culture and attitude becoming increasingly Mainland-ized, and it is extremely difficult for the Hong Kong person to see a positive side to this erosion of Hong Kong’s external uniqueness. I emphasize the word “external.” An alternative argument has surfaced; it proposes that Hong Kong people, instead of seeing (or using) Hong Kong only as an economic centre, should recognize the city’s unique character and its cultural advantages (having served on the international stage as an East-meets-West cross-cultural focal point for more than a century); as well, Hong Kong people should understand that even as a peripheral entity (geographically and politically) in relations to the rest of China, Hong Kong can still play a significant role in affecting Beijing’s policies in a globalized world.** It is difficult to use this argument to convince the Hong Kong person living under our despairing sociopolitical climate. However, I believe the Hong Kong experience has produced something grand in the hearts of those having experienced the pre-and-post-handover-plus-immigration ordeal, whether we choose to believe it. I refer to these words in the chorus:
共你淒風苦雨 共你披星戴月 共你蒼蒼千里度一生
These words, written in the years counting down to 1997, contain a nostalgic reverence for something lost. We can still make use of this sentiment and exercise the hero’s devotion. Circumstances make the hero. Many great visions begin with a genuine concern for one’s homeland. While the future of Hong Kong would always be a matter of deep concern for the Hong Kong person, the clock is also ticking on matters that are urgent on a global scale, matters with apocalyptic consequences. In light of this grander context, we need to redefine our hero and the object we are striving to protect.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
達明一派兜兜轉轉演演唱唱會 was one of the most meaningful performances ever staged in Hong Kong. TMP succeeded in making their music so relevant to our current social context, and in doing so, they have given Hong Kong people a chance to reassess our current situation and rekindle our passion for this place. Credits also go to a team of lyricists whose social observations and visions have created the foundation of TMP’s enduring legacy. These songs from the late eighties and early nineties serve to remind us how far we have come, how much things have changed (or not changed), how much we have changed (or not changed), and how much there is to cherish in this still-spectacular city.
On opening night, as the last two songs of show, TMP performed 一個人在途上 followed by 皇后大盜. In subsequent shows, the song 石頭記 was inserted between these two songs. In my opinion, it was better to keep the two songs back-to-back. 一個人在途上 and 皇后大盜 both encapsulate a poetic poignancy that speaks to the Hong Kong experience, and yet, the two songs contrast each other. Credits go to 周耀輝for writing the lyrics of both songs.
一個人在途上, performed in its Mandarin version, has a Chinese flavour in its composition. It begins with a pastoral description. A shade of red permeates the stage.
塵埃在我後面蕩漾 蕩漾過後墜落地上
地上的黃土一樣 一樣的模樣
夕陽在我後面低沉 低沉的紅色染我身
我身後是我一生 一生的紅塵
The intense expressions of our performers are projected onto the screen: on the left, a close-up on the face of our vocalist, looking straight ahead, holding the mic in one hand; on the right, our guitarist’s hands strumming and pinching the chords. They remained in their spots throughout the song.
當一切開始的時候 身邊有你
不知道甚麼時候 失去了你
當時我明明是 緊緊的靠著你
忽然只剩下我自己
是否我走的太快 還是你走的太晚
當一切消失了以後 我懷念你
當從頭開始的時候 要拋棄你
是因為我害怕 再一次見到你
徒然想起了我自己
想念不想念之間 一個人一個世界
The words paint a picture of the protagonist journeying with “you”,” and then losing “you” and missing “you” when “you” had disappeared, and then having to abandon “you” when it all starts again. The “you” and the “I” intertwine in a struggle to stay together over a vast landscape and a long stretch of time.
At first, it seemed as if the video-image of the performers was sliding sideways across the screen as a metaphoric visual for the journey described in the words. Then it became apparent that this illusion was created by black rectangular obstructions, (think of wooden planks lifted from a railway track), which covered the height of the screen and slid horizontally across at close intervals, making it look as if the entire image was constantly moving across the screen. This subtle visual technique created a restless, fleeting experience that added volume to the song’s haunting quality.
皇后大盜, performed as the final song in all four shows, continued this epic imagery of moving and migrating across landscapes.
White lights dominated the stage. As the performance began, videos were played in fast-forward mode: pedestrians crossing the streets, passengers getting in and out of transports, vehicles navigating the roads, buildings being build, roads being paved, sunrise, sunset, etc. Above the screen, a digital clock (with year, month, day, minutes, and seconds) ticked away rapidly, starting from midnight of 1997.7.1
The song is a lyrical allegory that romanticizes Hong Kong’s final days as a colony. It begins with the protagonist escorting an unnamed symbolic figure (which can be interpreted as the Queen in a deliberate metaphor) through a treacherous odyssey while being chased and there is no turning back.
路中他緊緊挽她手臂
盡把過去以後都不理
繼續去路 已斷退路
浪蕩裡我跟你
路邊響起聲聲的廝殺
在追逼一雙珍寶竊賊
繼續去路 已斷退路
浪蕩裡我跟你 我跟你
我跟你一個
The protagonist’s dedication is expressed in a line that repeats: “Through all the storms and turmoil, I stand by ‘you’.” The chorus reiterates the same idea with romantic imagery and heroic rhetoric.
共你淒風苦雨 共你披星戴月
共你蒼蒼千里度一生
共你荒土飛縱 共你風中放逐
沙滾滾願彼此珍重過
The rapidly ticking clock juxtaposed with a collage of urban images took the audience on a nosedive into the future. By design, the song ended at the same time as the clock reached the year 2047, symbolic for being the year in which the administration of Hong Kong under the “One country, two systems” principle would end.
Ours is a people conditioned to live under deadlines. The original countdown started from the time of the Declaration in 1984, which started the process of a handover of power from the Queen to Beijing that would be completed in July 1997. Subsequently, Beijing promised that, for a period of fifty years following the handover, Hong Kong would be governed in a way that it would retain the social and political liberty it had enjoyed under British rule. Now, having only experienced fifteen of its fifty years as Special Administrative Region, the Hong Kong locals are already seeing traces of Mainland influence in many social and political aspects. These observations trigger fear, which fuels a majority of recent protests in our city.
However, unlike the countdown that was etched into our social psyche from 1984 to the 1997 handover which marked a foundational, structural change of power in Hong Kong, not many Hong Kong people are consciously counting down to the day when Hong Kong stops being “specially administrated” come 2047. Gradual change is already happening. We will continue to see, as we already see, at the macro level, Hong Kong’s culture and attitude becoming increasingly Mainland-ized, and it is extremely difficult for the Hong Kong person to see a positive side to this erosion of Hong Kong’s external uniqueness. I emphasize the word “external.” An alternative argument has surfaced; it proposes that Hong Kong people, instead of seeing (or using) Hong Kong only as an economic centre, should recognize the city’s unique character and its cultural advantages (having served on the international stage as an East-meets-West cross-cultural focal point for more than a century); as well, Hong Kong people should understand that even as a peripheral entity (geographically and politically) in relations to the rest of China, Hong Kong can still play a significant role in affecting Beijing’s policies in a globalized world.** It is difficult to use this argument to convince the Hong Kong person living under our despairing sociopolitical climate. However, I believe the Hong Kong experience has produced something grand in the hearts of those having experienced the pre-and-post-handover-plus-immigration ordeal, whether we choose to believe it. I refer to these words in the chorus:
共你淒風苦雨 共你披星戴月 共你蒼蒼千里度一生
These words, written in the years counting down to 1997, contain a nostalgic reverence for something lost. We can still make use of this sentiment and exercise the hero’s devotion. Circumstances make the hero. Many great visions begin with a genuine concern for one’s homeland. While the future of Hong Kong would always be a matter of deep concern for the Hong Kong person, the clock is also ticking on matters that are urgent on a global scale, matters with apocalyptic consequences. In light of this grander context, we need to redefine our hero and the object we are striving to protect.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
達明一派兜兜轉轉演演唱唱會 was one of the most meaningful performances ever staged in Hong Kong. TMP succeeded in making their music so relevant to our current social context, and in doing so, they have given Hong Kong people a chance to reassess our current situation and rekindle our passion for this place. Credits also go to a team of lyricists whose social observations and visions have created the foundation of TMP’s enduring legacy. These songs from the late eighties and early nineties serve to remind us how far we have come, how much things have changed (or not changed), how much we have changed (or not changed), and how much there is to cherish in this still-spectacular city.
posted by Adam C at
2:33 AM
|
0 comments
