NAXI ORCHESTRA (Lijiang)

ONE OF the childhood rites of passage is to go into the school library and look at pictures of Medieval England. One chooses whether you are the King, Queen, Knight, Lady in Waiting or Court Jester. Whilst imagining yourself in one of these roles you make a subliminal connection to the past - to a sense of Western Identity.

Imagine for a moment that this privilege had been denied, that all those books had been removed from the library before you ever got to them. Imagine further that you then discover this world of the past at middle-age. You would be amazed, transfixed - as a missing part of your identity is revealed - like the last piece of an incomplete jigsaw.

The Naxi orchestra itself was boring. Jo and I were like four-year olds dragged to a lecture on bacterial entomology. Whilst quite rhythmic, it had all the melodious qualities of a year-4 orchestral jam session. The other Westerners had their heads slumped in their hands, eyes closed, or simply got up and left.

What was facinating to watch was the faces of the Chinese audience. The conductor explained the history of each peice, with what appeared to be a series of funny jokes. (I'm guessing - my Mandarin is quite limited.) The Chinese were transfixed - children of the Communist era - their past denied to them, now opening up.