“Teacher Jesse, we actually tried saying some lines asking for money, but the effect didn’t seem great,” Mo Sheng said, “And many people just left before the crosstalk finished.”
Qi Shejiang didn’t stop him from addressing him as teacher; after all, he was about to teach them real skills.
Performing on the street was the ultimate test of artistic skill; it was all about how to attract the audience, how to keep them, and how to make them part with their money.
As Mo Sheng said, some people left before hearing the end of the crosstalk; ultimately, it boiled down to lacking skills.
If you could capture the audience’s attention until the end, that would be the greatest ability.
For those with average skills, they had to be quick-witted, changing tactics; for example, delivering a segment and pausing at a critical point to collect some money or telling a series of short jokes and anecdotes.
After attending school for a few years, they had learned routines that lasted 30 minutes to an hour.
“The rhythm needs practice. I’ll support Mo Sheng today; you guys feel it out first, then I’ll explain,” Qi Shejiang said. Since they hadn’t performed as partners before, Mo Sheng was slightly better.
They say three parts humor and seven parts support; in crosstalk, it’s always the older performer who supports the younger one, reflecting the importance of support roles. Qi Shejiang would be there to support Mo Sheng.
“Alright, we need to draw the crowd first. A few days ago, we sang or learned some opera here to attract everyone,” Mo Sheng said, “but it didn’t seem to have much effect; the audience was about the same as those watching fortune-telling and even fewer than those playing chess.”
“Drawing the crowd means using various methods to gather people around, making it easier for the performer to follow up, like the Taiping lyrics were originally used for drawing crowds.”
“Singing opera?” Qi Shejiang looked around again, “Then at least you know how to adjust to the circumstances; there are many elder folks here.”
The two nodded, sensing that he might have alternate suggestions, and humbly asked, “You see, are there any other methods? It’s really hard to draw a crowd here!”
What about not strictly following the old rules, singing Taiping lyrics, or using white sand to draw?
Hey, did you not see that old man over there drawing beautifully with a water pen?
Standing behind their makeshift table, Qi Shejiang glanced around at the people in the park playing with birds and walking dogs, smiled slightly, and had a plan; he suddenly exclaimed, “Woof woof woof woof woof woof!”
To his surprise, it turned into a series of incredibly lifelike, indistinguishable dog barks!
Immediately, within a hundred-meter radius, all the birds on the old men’s shoulders were startled into raising their voices, chattering loudly; those strolling dogs pricked up their ears, curious, pulling their owners toward the source of the sound.
In an instant, the birds looked over in this direction, and all the dog owners were led over by their own dogs!
Even without birds and dogs, seeing such a huge commotion, could anyone not pay attention? In less than a minute, dozens of people gathered around.
Mo Sheng: “…………” Qi Leyang: “…………” Both of them were dumbfounded.
In terms of learning skills, it includes learning vocal techniques; they had both learned a bit, and the dog bark was the most basic skill. But neither of them had expected to use it this way, or to use it so effectively that even the dogs were fooled!
Chapter 24 Unlike the dazed expressions of the two, Qi Shejiang appeared natural. He held a prop fan and poked Mo Sheng, giving him a look. Fortunately, Mo Sheng was somewhat clever; he opened his mouth and started imitating bird calls. At that moment, still in the roundness act, Qi Leyang joined in, and the two began to harmonize somewhat. After all, they had practiced; it wasn’t perfect, but the audience clapped and understood. These young men were performing here as a way to attract attention. Even knowing it was a way to attract attention, their skills were impressive; since people had come this far, listening wouldn’t hurt. Qi Shejiang smiled and casually chatted with everyone, “On the opposite side is the plaque of Teacher Mo Gan from the Jingju Theatre. Did anyone buy tickets?” Immediately, some people nodded; among this group of aunts and uncles, there were quite a few who enjoyed Jingju. Qi Shejiang was testing the waters. Hearing that there was good Jingju, he naturally had to give it his all, “I also like Teacher Mo Gan, let me show you all: Wang ao ao ao——” Everyone couldn’t hold back and laughed. Qi Shejiang opened his mouth and began barking like a dog, but the way he produced the sound was that of an old Jingju performer. “Ah, wrong, I just misspoke.” Qi Shejiang paused and started over, “The treacherous ministers conspire against the Han dynasty, the Chu-Han struggle brings guns and knives.
The Great Ancestor ascended to the throne at Xianyang, uniting the rivers and mountains in joy for Tang Yao. Now we have the treacherous Cao Cao, oppressing the emperor and the ministers below. I wish to clear the treachery for my lord, but I lack a killing knife in my hand…
What he sang was “Beating the Drum to Scold Cao,” one of Mo Gan’s representative songs. He had learned from Mo Gan, and even Mo Gan himself praised his level. At this moment, he deliberately raised the pitch, and every time he sang a wonderful part, the aunts and uncles cheered.
This is what’s called “opening door liu’er,” singing a song to draw people in at the beginning. Usually, it’s the comedian who sings the opening song, but today was different; they were here to attend class.
Mo Sheng and Qi Leyang sighed in their hearts, saying Qi Shejiang’s roundness method was clear.
Qi Shejiang was aware of the audience’s preferences, knowing they were not suited for explosive material like derogatory remarks. He decided to stick to traditional content. He gestured to Mo Sheng, mimicking fish swimming, indicating they would perform “Swimming Fish.”
In the vernacular, “Swimming Fish” refers to “Wang Qingyu.” Many crosstalk acts are related to Jingju, such as “Critique of Jingju” and others like “Fenhe Bay” and “Yellow Crane Tower.” Such acts were perfect for today’s audience since they understand Jingju.
Mo Sheng understood but felt a bit nervous. He could perform “Wang Qingyu,” but he was uneasy about the straightforward acts they had discussed.
At this point, he still clapped, leading into their act, saying, “You sing well; do you study opera?” Qi Leyang would naturally step aside; this wasn’t his stage. Qi Shejiang humbly replied, “Just a hobby.” Mo Sheng said, “Oh. If you love opera, you could come to me.” Qi Shejiang asked curiously, “Why would I come to you?” Mo Sheng replied, “I can teach you! I’ve been performing opera for many years! I don’t care about selling tickets at that theatre next door; the seats are too few!” Qi Shejiang was shocked, “Wow, that’s a big theatre with thousands of seats, and you think that’s too few?” The two began to set the stage with back-and-forth banter. Just now, Qi Shejiang’s one call had drawn in ticket enthusiasts; once they heard Mo Sheng could teach this young fellow to sing, they were intrigued to listen! Mo Sheng took on the role of the boastful comedian, playing the expert, and the two agreed to perform a Jingju version of “Wang Qingyu.” “That fish?” Mo Sheng slapped his forehead, “Autumn fish indeed have grown fat! But I’ve been with my fish for months, I can’t bear to stew it; I’ll just steam it!” Qi Shejiang exclaimed, “Wait a minute, what’s that supposed to mean? You still want to cook it?
