Chinese Acrobats Balanced Amid Cultures

Nearly every day, just after noon, Harry Chen drives a van full of Chinese visitors through a back gate at the Six Flags Magic Mountain amusement park in the Santa Clarita Valley. Since late June, Chen and his friends have been a fixture at the park, where they enjoy the rides and drinks, and talk among themselves.

They do other things, too. One pulls fully stocked fishbowls out of his robe while doing forward flips. Another balances a full set of dinnerware on her head while riding an eight-foot-tall unicycle. A third plays a large bass drum while juggling it with her feet. A fourth does delicate acrobatics on top of a 14-foot-high stack of chairs.

At home these people are dignitaries, funded by the state and renowned as masters of an art form that dates back thousands of years.

In the Santa Clarita Valley they are strangers.

‘Not Exactly Tourists’

“They’re not exactly tourists,” said Chen, a 21-year-old USC student moonlighting as interpreter for the China Acrobatic Troupe of Peking, which is working as a summer act at the Valencia amusement park. “They’re really sort of amazing. I think I’ve got a great summer job,” said Chen.

For the 16 members of an acrobatic troupe reputed to be among the finest of its kind in the world, the whirlwind visit to Los Angeles is a novel experience. After traveling thousands of miles from Peking, capital of China, the members of this troupe are camped for now in a quiet suburb on the northern edge of the county in a stucco-and-asphalt apartment complex in Canyon Country.

When a similar troupe visited Los Angeles last year during the Olympic Arts festival, they lived and performed in Los Angeles before crowds of well-heeled viewers.

Adjusting to Summer Heat

But this year it is different. While living in relative isolation, the Peking acrobats are adjusting to the scorching summer heat with the help of a diet of James Bond movies, beer, a convenient swimming pool and the sound of their interpreter’s electric guitar.

Days are spent performing four shows before audiences at an outdoor theater at the park. The free time that remains is largely consumed by American reporters, or by trips to television studios.

The stint at Magic Mountain is largely the work of Mark Wilson, a Valley-based performer and promoter who was the first American magician to travel and perform in the People’s Republic of China back in 1980.

To the performers, it is mostly hard work. With four shows a day, six days a week, there has not yet been time for much sightseeing. The only countryside familiar to them consists of the buildings and hillsides visible on the 15-minute drive from the apartments to the park.

Jellyfish, Pigs’ Feet

The routine begins and ends inside the Canyon Country apartment development, where the performers share four apartments overlooking a parking lot in the front and a burned-out hillside in the back. A Chinese chef who travels with the troupe has filled the refrigerator with soda pop, beer and everything from jellyfish to pigs’ feet.

Mornings, for the most part, are spent taking naps or lolling around in a nearby swimming pool. A video recorder in one of the apartments is stocked with a complimentary collection of old James Bond movies, which a member of the troupe described as “confusing” since the dialogue is in English.

And, though the performers are reserved in the presence of a reporter, interpreter Chen says life with the troupe is not always so quiet. Zhang Yusheng, the chef, is something of an expert at vocal imitations, with specialties ranging from animal noises to lyrics of American music. Chen himself helps pass the time by practicing Chinese folk songs on an electric guitar.

“You should see them when we’re driving somewhere,” said Chen, who got his job by answering a want-ad posted on a bulletin board at school. “I turn on the radio, and everyone starts making up lyrics to the music. It gets pretty loud. It’s really funny.”

Try a Ride

Once at the park, the performers spend most of their time behind the stage of an open-air theater, sometimes sneaking off to try a ride between acts. A few practice English with stagehands.

The performance, of course, is the focal point of the troupe’s attention. He Liyou, for instance, has spent most of his 30 years kicking porcelain jars onto his head, where he balances, juggles and spins them around. The act, which dates to 200 BC, was taught to He by his father, who learned it from He’s grandfather.

On stage, an emcee brags that He has brought no extra equipment and He claims to have never broken a single piece of porcelain. There is also Zhou Sharong, a 17-year-old Peking resident who performs “Pagoda of Bowls,” which combines a delicate balancing act with exceptional contortionist skills.

The other troupe members include a 27-year-old “drum juggler,” and a set of four young men who double as “hoop divers” and costumed “lion dancers.”

Short Trip Home

When the last show ends, the performers climb inside the van for a short trip back to the apartment, where an evening meal is waiting. There is singing and letter writing, and a bit of idle talk.

“Yes, I have fallen once,” said unicyclist Zhao Yingying, speaking through Chen once again. “We were in Nepal and they had a blackout. All of a sudden it went black.”

And yes, said one troupe member, there are plans to see more of the area.

“We are very busy now, but soon we plan to travel,” he said. “We would like to see Disneyland.”