Dan is now actually the general term in Peking Opera for all female roles. In olden days, the term meant female impersonator because men and women were forbidden to act on the same stage. Thus, young men were trained to play female roles.

This is reminiscent of the Greek classical drama, the Elizabethan Theatre and Japanese Kabuki in which only men were allowed to perform in public. Actresses were regarded as indecent.

Besides, in old China, performers were generally scorned by society, so few would allowed their daughters to learn the art. Also, the better actresses wouldn't stay with the theatre long because "if an actress looked beautiful, she would soon marry a rich man as a concubine, which meant that her career as an opera singer was very short," explained Li Bingsu, a Peking Opera singer with the Shanghai Peking Opera Troupe.

That's why cross-acting opera singers were so popular before the founding of new China.

The term dan is categorized into five types: qingyi, huadan, caidan, laodan and wudan.

The qingyi is the type representing the good matron, faithful wife or filial daughter, like Penelope in Homer's "Odyssey" and Miranda in Shakespeare's "The Tempest." In this role, singing is greatly stressed and no fighting or acrobatics are required.

Characteristic actions often give clues to the type. The qingyi is the most properly behaved. Her footsteps are even and carefully taken and her feet are kept close to the ground. The hands, always in a graceful and dignified position, are often crossed.

Mei Lanfang, a prominent Peking Opera master in qingyi, added great beauty to the role.

"He is the very essence of beauty," commented one art critic on Mei's cross-acting in the 1930s. Most famous for such plays as "Farewell, My Concubine," "The Drunken Beauty" and "Fairy Girls Spreading the Flowers," Mei Lanfang also created many new plays and made reforms and improvements in both make-up and costumes.

The huadan or "flower" dan, is the role for a vivacious maiden or a woman of questionable character, with a great emphasis placed on acting. Most charming are her ways as she sways with an airy grace on the stage, her left hand on her waist and her right hand holding a red handkerchief. Her every movement vibrates with life, from the suggestive glance of her eyes to the turn of her head. Xun Huisheng, one of the four greatest cross-acting dans, was best known for his performing this kind of role including You Sanjie in the "Dream of Red Mansions."

The caidan, is similar to the huadan in liveliness, but she's also comical, lowly and detestable. Her long strides are full of energy; her eyes roll in diabolical mischievousness.

The wudan, or military type, is strong, beautiful and vibrant with action, for she must enter the fray of battle and perform difficult acrobatics. Sharp and bright are her eyes.

The old-woman role of laodan is the most realistic. With her lowered head and stooped shoulders, she totters across the stage. Sometimes she walks with a long staff for support. She is gentle and motherly. Her eyes mirror the tired expression of old age.

In singing, the voice of the qingyi is clear and "pointed" with an inclination to be quiet rather than robust. The voice of the laodan is even, full and patterned after that of an old woman. The huadan, who relies on her acting skill and may possess a voice of only average quality, although many may have good voices.

There are few professional crossing-acting dan singers left because since 1949, this kind of acting has been discouraged. Nowadays, female roles are generally played by women, though a few female impersonators - including Zhang Junqiu and Mei Baojiu, Mei Lanfang's youngest son - still occasionally appear on the stage.

Recently Wen Ruhua, a Beijing-based cross-acting dan has given a show, presenting his skill in acting the qingyi. Famous for lending his voice to Leslie Cheung in the movie "Farewell, My Concubine," Wen is said to be the last cross-acting dan in professional circles because there are some male piaoyou, or male amateur opera singers who learn to sing dan just for fun.

It's really hard for a man to act a female role perfectly on the stage. That's why in old China, a Peking Opera troupe could hardly pull stay in business without a famous cross-acting dan.

From the cross-acting dan, we might see that a made beauty can be more beautiful than a born beauty and that sometimes a man may act more like a woman than a woman.

(Shanghai Star 04/26/2001)