The tragic opera significantly raised people’s interest in Shanghai dialect culture since it was first performed at the Shanghai Grand Theatre in 1955. In the modern adaptation of the opera I watched, when I was about 12 years old, I tried to invite my friends to go to the theatre and watch it. I worked as a translator because some of my friends couldn’t understand the dialect. During the translation process, I developed a deeper understanding of the opera. It is a great work exploring feudalism, tragedy, and the inability to control one’s fate – as a number of reviews have described. “Thunderstorm” was initially thought of by many as a story about a northern family. However, on the Huju stage, it was performed in the softer Wu dialect, which transforms it into a Jiangnan (southern region) story and showcases the Shanghai style. Cao Yu, the original playwright, even remarked that of all the opera versions of “Thunderstorm,” Huju’s adaptation stands out as the best. Huju excels in performing tragic stories with strong dramatic conflicts – a characteristic of the “Thunderstorm” script – according to a review in the newspaper Guangming Ribao. Moreover, the traditional Shanghai-style costumes of Huju, specifically suits and cheongsams, add a special touch to the story. Famous Huju artist Mao Shanyu once said: “Huju possesses an inclusive temperament just like the city of Shanghai. It seems to have a kind of magic that makes these works ultimately evolve into Shanghai’s stories.”

Although Shanghai is a modern city, there is still the existence of old Shanghai behind the skyscrapers. Local people still live in the old alleys which are called “long tang.” In the evening, if you walk into these narrow lanes, you will find that time seems to slow down there. I still remember the moment when I sat next to Grandpa Cheng, a 70-year-old man who lived alone in the “Yu Yuan” alley. He enjoyed the company of children and of the neighborhood itself – making him no longer feel lonely. Under the sunset, we chatted with each other in the dialect and laughed. “Teach me how to use the new things quickly!” Cheng said. He was always curious about how to use the smartphone, and I learned a lot from his legendary stories about what had happened during the Cultural Revolution. He said that like many students of that era, he left school. For the first time, he ventured beyond the narrow “long tang” of Shanghai, taking a complimentary train to Beijing to meet Chairman Mao in Tiananmen Square.

Shanghai is a city with two sides. One is the modern side; the other is the traditional side. It is the combination of the old and the new that makes it unique. Even though Shanghai has become more and more diversified, we still can’t forget our dialect, which is our symbol and connects us to our roots. Through my journey of learning Shanghai dialect, I finally realized I had a duty to pass it down to the next generation and spread it to the broader world. Again, I was walking through the “long tang” with my family. I felt so proud of our “Old Shanghai.”