The Tang Xianzu Memorial Hall in Fuzhou is a comprehensive cultural venue built to commemorate Tang Xianzu, one of the world’s hundred great cultural figures and a master of Ming‑dynasty drama in China. It is also one of Jiangxi Province’s ten major memorial halls dedicated to historical luminaries.
Commemorating the Birth Anniversary of Tang Xianzu | A Retrospective: The Legendary Life of the “Sage of Eastern Drama”
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Source:
Tang Xianzu Memorial Hall Official Account
Time:
2024-09-25
Commemorating the 474th anniversary of Tang Xianzu’s birth
A Retrospective: The Legendary Life of the Eastern Master of Opera
In the history of Chinese literature and the arts, there stands a distinguished playwright and literary figure whose name is Tang Xianzu. Tang Xianzu achieved excellence in many fields, but his greatest contributions lie in his dramatic works. His four plays—“The Return of the Soul,” “The Jade Hairpin,” “The Southern Bough,” and “The Hand of the Dream”—are collectively known as the “Four Dreams of Linchuan.” These masterpieces not only left an indelible mark on the annals of Chinese literature but have also been translated into English, Japanese, German, Russian, and numerous other languages, earning their place as treasured gems of world theatrical art. Moreover, his seminal treatise, “Record of the Temple of Master Qingyuan, God of Drama, in Yihuang County,” is a pivotal document in the history of Chinese opera, offering profound insights into the art of theatrical performance and paving the way for the development of modern directing. On September 24, 2024, we mark the 474th anniversary of Tang Xianzu’s birth; let us together step into the world of his enduring legacy.
Tang Xianzu
September 24, 1550 – July 29, 1616
Tang Xianzu (September 24, 1550 – July 29, 1616), a native of Linchuan in Jiangxi Province, went by the courtesy name Yiren and the art names Hairuo, Ruoshi, and Qingyuan Daoren. A dramatist and literary figure of the Ming dynasty, he is revered as the “Shakespeare of the East.” Born into a scholarly family, he gained early renown for his talent; not only was he highly accomplished in classical prose and poetry, but he also mastered works on astronomy, geography, medicine, and divination. In the eleventh year of the Wanli era (1583), he passed the imperial examination and became a jinshi. In the nineteenth year of Wanli (1591), he submitted a memorial criticizing the chief and censorial officials, which provoked the emperor’s anger and led to his demotion to the post of magistrate of Xuweng. He was later transferred to serve as the county magistrate of Suichang in Zhejiang. In the twenty-sixth year of Wanli (1598), deeply disheartened, he resigned from office and returned to his hometown. Thereafter, he gradually abandoned ambitions for official service and devoted himself wholeheartedly to the creation of plays and poetry.
On the fourteenth day of the eighth month in the twenty-ninth year of the Jiajing reign (September 24, 1550), Tang Xianzu was born into a distinguished scholarly family. Originally residing in Wenchangli, Linchuan—today’s Tangjiashan on Taiping Street, east of Wenchang Bridge—he later moved to Shajing Lane and built the “Yumingtang,” which included such structures as the Lanshou Tower, the Qingyuan Tower, the Yu’ai Pond, and the Jin’i Pavilion; hence he also styled himself the “Qingyuan Daoist.” Four generations back, his ancestors were all renowned for their literary achievements, many being erudite scholars well-versed in the classics; his mother, too, had been deeply versed in poetry and prose from an early age.
Tang Xianzu was gifted and intelligent, nurtured from childhood by his family’s influence and devoted to diligent study. At the age of five, he entered his family’s private school; by twelve he could compose poetry, and at thirteen he studied classical prose and verse under Xu Liangfu. By fourteen he had been admitted as a county student, and at twenty-one he passed the provincial examination to become a juren. With such talent, he might have expected an official career that would make wealth and high office seem as trivial as grass and chaff. Yet the imperial examination system—then in decline along with Ming society—had become corrupt: examinations had turned into clandestine deals for the ruling elite to serve their own interests, a sham designed to secure hereditary status for aristocratic offspring rather than to assess merit. In the fifth year of the Wanli era (1577) and again in the eighth (1580), during the two national-level metropolitan examinations, the chief grand secretary Zhang Juzheng sought to ensure that several of his sons would pass as jinshi. To conceal this from public scrutiny, he looked for a few genuinely accomplished scholars to serve as mere figureheads. He learned that the most renowned candidates in the empire were none other than Tang Xianzu, Shen Maoxue, and others, so he dispatched his uncle to court them, promising that those willing to cooperate with the chancellor would be placed among the top ranks. Leveraging the chancellor’s formidable authority and offering temptations coveted by many, Shen Maoxue and others sold their integrity and indeed secured high honors; but Tang Xianzu remained steadfastly upright, unmoved by any enticement. Though he did not oppose Zhang Juzheng’s political reforms, as an honest intellectual he abhorred this corrupt atmosphere and thus resolutely declined both invitations, declaring, “I dare not consort with a woman who has already lost her virtue.” As a result, Tang Xianzu failed to pass the examinations. Moreover, throughout the years when Zhang Juzheng held power, he never succeeded in gaining admission. Yet precisely because of this, Tang Xianzu earned the admiration of literati across the realm for his noble character and unblemished integrity. After Zhang Juzheng’s death, Zhang Siwei and Shen Shixing successively served as grand secretaries; they too offered him a post in the Hanlin Academy, hoping to draw him into their inner circle, but each time his refusal was absolute.
In the eleventh year of the Wanli era (1583), at the age of thirty-four, Tang Xianzu finally passed the imperial examination as a jinshi, ranking two hundred and twenty-first among the third class of the Guiwei cohort, thus beginning his official career. He first served in Beijing as an assistant to the Ministry of Rites; the following year, he took up the post of Doctor at the Temple of Music in Nanjing, holding a seventh-rank position. He remained there for seven years. Since the Yongle period, Nanjing had been the Ming dynasty’s secondary capital. Although all the central ministries were established there, in practice it wielded virtually no real power, its institutions existing in name only—especially the Temple of Music, which was regarded as a sinecure. Nevertheless, Nanjing at that time was a gathering place for scholars: beyond poets and prose writers, even playwrights included such renowned figures as Xu Lin, Yao Dasheng, He Liangjun, Jin Zaiheng, and Zang Maoxun. While in Nanjing, Tang Xianzu engaged in lively exchanges of poetry, prose, and lyric‑song with some of his peers, while also pursuing scholarly research and quietly poring over books. When others asked him, “Why do you, old doctor, so avidly read?” he replied, “I read without regard to whether a book is ‘from the doctoral canon’ or not.” This serene, self‑satisfied way of life stood in stark contrast to that of certain literati who, having sought favor from Zhang Juzheng, were ultimately subjected to severe punishment at this very moment.
At the time, Wang Shizhen held the prestigious posts of Vice Minister and then Minister of Justice in Nanjing, enjoying a position of great influence. Scholars and officials flocked to him, and many sought his patronage. A single word or phrase from him could “sway the virtuous and talented, and elevate the gifted,” making him, in effect, the undisputed leader of the literary world. Yet Tang Xianzu was a man who revered literature while refusing to bow to power; he championed innovation against the retrograde trend, drawing freely from the finest literary traditions of antiquity without confining himself to the narrow confines prescribed by the revivalist school. His literary ideas and aesthetic sensibilities stood in stark contrast to those of Wang Shizhen and his circle. Consequently, though he resided in the Southern Capital alongside Wang Shizhen and even served directly under Wang Shizhen’s younger brother, Wang Shimao, he declined to associate with the Wang brothers. In a letter to a friend, he wrote: “I have no desire to consort with the gentlemen of the North; nor are they worth my company.” To expose the true nature of the literary revivalists, he even invited his friends to dissect the poetry and prose of Li Mengyang, Li Panlong, and Wang Shizhen, meticulously identifying passages that imitated or plagiarized from Han historiography and Tang poetry, marking them up page by page as objects of critical analysis. When Wang Shizhen learned of this, he could only shake his head in helpless amusement. This reveals that Tang Xianzu not only refused to submit to the dictates of power but, even as the tide of literary conservatism swept across the land, maintained his own independent judgment and discernment, resolutely refusing to drift with the prevailing current. In fact, this reflected his absorption of the rich cultural heritage of the past—especially, under the historical conditions of the time, the influence of anti‑Confucian, anti‑traditional, and anti‑despotic thought emerging during the nascent stages of capitalism. In the mid‑Ming period, with the emergence of capitalist tendencies, philosophical figures such as Wang Gen, He Xinyin, Luo Rufang, and Li Zhi appeared—thinkers who broke with orthodoxy and left a profound mark on intellectual and cultural life. Early in his career, Tang Xianzu studied under Luo Rufang, learning Daoism from him and reading “non‑sacred” texts. Later, he befriended the radical Chan master Zibai and came to deeply admire the radical thinker Li Zhi, whose “Burning Book” he read with great admiration. As he put it: “Figures like Master Mingde (Rufang) have long dwelt in my heart and mind; I behold the grandeur of Master Ke Shang (Zibai), listen to the brilliance of Li Baiquan (Zhi), and when I trace their style, it is as if I have drawn a fine sword.” Such experiences forged in him a spirit of political and literary resistance and struggle, earning him the nickname “mad slave.” Thus, he not only refused to compromise with autocratic rulers in character but also made his political stance unmistakably sharp and outspoken. 。
In the nineteenth year of the Wanli era (1591), while serving as a chief clerk in the Rites Department’s Ritual Sacrifice Office in Nanjing, Tang Xianzu submitted a memorial titled “On the Prime Minister and the Censorial Officials,” in which he vehemently impeached the Grand Secretary Shen Shixing and the censors Yang Wenju and Hu Runing, exposing their crimes of usurping power, accepting bribes and perverting justice, and ruthlessly exploiting starving commoners. The memorial also launched a broad critique of the political landscape of the twenty years since the Wanli Emperor’s accession. Upon its publication, the emperor was incensed; by imperial edict, Tang Xianzu was banished to Xuweng County on the Leizhou Peninsula to serve as a local magistrate. A year later, following an amnesty, he was reassigned to Suichang in Zhejiang as county magistrate. In Suichang, he abolished cruel punishments such as flogging and execution, discontinued the use of shackles and irons—devices once employed to restrain prisoners—and reduced tax burdens while streamlining administrative procedures. He also established archery halls and renovated academies. At times, he ventured into the countryside to encourage farming, and throughout the year engaged in scholarly exchanges with young literati. This model of upright, reform-minded governance brought about a marked improvement in this remote and impoverished region of central Zhejiang, where mulberry fields, hemp plantations, cattle, and livestock all flourished. Perhaps Tang Xianzu regarded this place as his ideal realm; beyond these benevolent policies, he even unilaterally allowed prisoners to return home for the New Year and permitted them to take to the streets during the Lantern Festival to watch the festivities, acting without hesitation in pursuit of his political ideals. Such conduct ultimately provided his political adversaries with a pretext; when the time came for official evaluations, they seized the opportunity to launch insidious attacks. Tang Xianzu was well aware that others sought to oust him. In the twenty-sixth year of the Wanli era (1598), upon learning that the court planned to dispatch tax collectors to Suichang to harass the populace, he could no longer endure it. Rather than wait for others to attack, he submitted his resignation to the Ministry of Personnel and, without awaiting approval, departed at once, returning to his hometown. Later, when the Ministry of Personnel and the Censorate formally imposed a disciplinary measure of dismissal and retirement on the grounds of “impetuousness,” he had already abandoned that ill‑fated post more than three years earlier.
After leaving his post in Suichang, Tang Xianzu paid a visit to Li Zhi in Lincuan. Following Li’s suicide while in prison, Tang composed a poem of mourning. He also held in high regard the Chan master Daguang (Zibai), who opposed Neo‑Confucianism, praising both Li Zhi and Daguang as “a hero” and “a genius,” and remarking that “to trace their manner of expression is like drawing forth a fine sword.” Their influence largely shaped the ideological foundations underlying Tang Xianzu’s artistic concerns: exposing corrupt politics, opposing the Cheng–Zhu school of Neo‑Confucianism, and striving for the liberation of individuality.
Throughout his life, Tang Xianzu scorned feudal aristocrats and often incurred the displeasure of prominent figures. In his later years, he embraced a modest, ascetic way of life, refusing to curry favor with local officials. This temperament and conduct drew him into close association with Donglin Party members such as Gu Xiancheng and Zou Yuanbiao—men who championed moral integrity and vehemently denounced the corruption of their time—and led him to hold in high regard such “upright” or “unrestrained” figures as Hai Rui and Xu Wei.
In his later years, Tang Xianzu’s outlook grew rather pessimistic, a state of mind linked both to his deep immersion in Buddhist thought and to his prolonged withdrawal from political struggles after resigning from office. He described himself as “a wayward wanderer of a remote province, a remnant of the prosperous age,” adding that he regarded worldly affairs with indifference, simply accepting whatever came his way. Later, he even adopted the sobriquet “Old Man Cocoon.” On the sixteenth day of the sixth month of the forty-fourth year of the Wanli era of the Ming Emperor Shenzong—July 29, 1616—Tang Xianzu passed away in Linchuan.
Tang Xianzu and his works stand as a towering monument in the history of Chinese culture and art—timeless, both historical and contemporary; refined yet accessible to the public; rooted in national identity yet resonant on the global stage. The 2024 Tang Xianzu International Theatre Exchange Month will be solemnly inaugurated on September 26 in Tang Xianzu’s hometown. By sharing the story of Tang Xianzu with the world and fostering mutual learning among diverse cultural traditions, we warmly welcome friends from across the globe to Fuzhou to take part in this grand cultural event, together commemorating and honoring this distinguished dramatist who has bequeathed an invaluable legacy to the treasurehouse of world literature and the arts.
Editor: Deng Chao | Copy Editor: Jiang Yuanping | Reviewer: Rao Fang
September 24, 1550 – July 29, 1616
Tang Xianzu (September 24, 1550 – July 29, 1616), a native of Linchuan in Jiangxi Province, went by the courtesy name Yiren and the art names Hairuo, Ruoshi, and Qingyuan Daoren. A dramatist and literary figure of the Ming dynasty, he is revered as the “Shakespeare of the East.” Born into a scholarly family, he gained early renown for his talent; not only was he highly accomplished in classical prose and poetry, but he also mastered works on astronomy, geography, medicine, and divination. In the eleventh year of the Wanli era (1583), he passed the imperial examination and became a jinshi. In the nineteenth year of Wanli (1591), he submitted a memorial criticizing the chief and censorial officials, which provoked the emperor’s anger and led to his demotion to the post of magistrate of Xuweng. He was later transferred to serve as the county magistrate of Suichang in Zhejiang. In the twenty-sixth year of Wanli (1598), deeply disheartened, he resigned from office and returned to his hometown. Thereafter, he gradually abandoned ambitions for official service and devoted himself wholeheartedly to the creation of plays and poetry.
On the fourteenth day of the eighth month in the twenty-ninth year of the Jiajing reign (September 24, 1550), Tang Xianzu was born into a distinguished scholarly family. Originally residing in Wenchangli, Linchuan—today’s Tangjiashan on Taiping Street, east of Wenchang Bridge—he later moved to Shajing Lane and built the “Yumingtang,” which included such structures as the Lanshou Tower, the Qingyuan Tower, the Yu’ai Pond, and the Jin’i Pavilion; hence he also styled himself the “Qingyuan Daoist.” Four generations back, his ancestors were all renowned for their literary achievements, many being erudite scholars well-versed in the classics; his mother, too, had been deeply versed in poetry and prose from an early age.
Tang Xianzu was gifted and intelligent, nurtured from childhood by his family’s influence and devoted to diligent study. At the age of five, he entered his family’s private school; by twelve he could compose poetry, and at thirteen he studied classical prose and verse under Xu Liangfu. By fourteen he had been admitted as a county student, and at twenty-one he passed the provincial examination to become a juren. With such talent, he might have expected an official career that would make wealth and high office seem as trivial as grass and chaff. Yet the imperial examination system—then in decline along with Ming society—had become corrupt: examinations had turned into clandestine deals for the ruling elite to serve their own interests, a sham designed to secure hereditary status for aristocratic offspring rather than to assess merit. In the fifth year of the Wanli era (1577) and again in the eighth (1580), during the two national-level metropolitan examinations, the chief grand secretary Zhang Juzheng sought to ensure that several of his sons would pass as jinshi. To conceal this from public scrutiny, he looked for a few genuinely accomplished scholars to serve as mere figureheads. He learned that the most renowned candidates in the empire were none other than Tang Xianzu, Shen Maoxue, and others, so he dispatched his uncle to court them, promising that those willing to cooperate with the chancellor would be placed among the top ranks. Leveraging the chancellor’s formidable authority and offering temptations coveted by many, Shen Maoxue and others sold their integrity and indeed secured high honors; but Tang Xianzu remained steadfastly upright, unmoved by any enticement. Though he did not oppose Zhang Juzheng’s political reforms, as an honest intellectual he abhorred this corrupt atmosphere and thus resolutely declined both invitations, declaring, “I dare not consort with a woman who has already lost her virtue.” As a result, Tang Xianzu failed to pass the examinations. Moreover, throughout the years when Zhang Juzheng held power, he never succeeded in gaining admission. Yet precisely because of this, Tang Xianzu earned the admiration of literati across the realm for his noble character and unblemished integrity. After Zhang Juzheng’s death, Zhang Siwei and Shen Shixing successively served as grand secretaries; they too offered him a post in the Hanlin Academy, hoping to draw him into their inner circle, but each time his refusal was absolute.
In the eleventh year of the Wanli era (1583), at the age of thirty-four, Tang Xianzu finally passed the imperial examination as a jinshi, ranking two hundred and twenty-first among the third class of the Guiwei cohort, thus beginning his official career. He first served in Beijing as an assistant to the Ministry of Rites; the following year, he took up the post of Doctor at the Temple of Music in Nanjing, holding a seventh-rank position. He remained there for seven years. Since the Yongle period, Nanjing had been the Ming dynasty’s secondary capital. Although all the central ministries were established there, in practice it wielded virtually no real power, its institutions existing in name only—especially the Temple of Music, which was regarded as a sinecure. Nevertheless, Nanjing at that time was a gathering place for scholars: beyond poets and prose writers, even playwrights included such renowned figures as Xu Lin, Yao Dasheng, He Liangjun, Jin Zaiheng, and Zang Maoxun. While in Nanjing, Tang Xianzu engaged in lively exchanges of poetry, prose, and lyric‑song with some of his peers, while also pursuing scholarly research and quietly poring over books. When others asked him, “Why do you, old doctor, so avidly read?” he replied, “I read without regard to whether a book is ‘from the doctoral canon’ or not.” This serene, self‑satisfied way of life stood in stark contrast to that of certain literati who, having sought favor from Zhang Juzheng, were ultimately subjected to severe punishment at this very moment.
At the time, Wang Shizhen held the prestigious posts of Vice Minister and then Minister of Justice in Nanjing, enjoying a position of great influence. Scholars and officials flocked to him, and many sought his patronage. A single word or phrase from him could “sway the virtuous and talented, and elevate the gifted,” making him, in effect, the undisputed leader of the literary world. Yet Tang Xianzu was a man who revered literature while refusing to bow to power; he championed innovation against the retrograde trend, drawing freely from the finest literary traditions of antiquity without confining himself to the narrow confines prescribed by the revivalist school. His literary ideas and aesthetic sensibilities stood in stark contrast to those of Wang Shizhen and his circle. Consequently, though he resided in the Southern Capital alongside Wang Shizhen and even served directly under Wang Shizhen’s younger brother, Wang Shimao, he declined to associate with the Wang brothers. In a letter to a friend, he wrote: “I have no desire to consort with the gentlemen of the North; nor are they worth my company.” To expose the true nature of the literary revivalists, he even invited his friends to dissect the poetry and prose of Li Mengyang, Li Panlong, and Wang Shizhen, meticulously identifying passages that imitated or plagiarized from Han historiography and Tang poetry, marking them up page by page as objects of critical analysis. When Wang Shizhen learned of this, he could only shake his head in helpless amusement. This reveals that Tang Xianzu not only refused to submit to the dictates of power but, even as the tide of literary conservatism swept across the land, maintained his own independent judgment and discernment, resolutely refusing to drift with the prevailing current. In fact, this reflected his absorption of the rich cultural heritage of the past—especially, under the historical conditions of the time, the influence of anti‑Confucian, anti‑traditional, and anti‑despotic thought emerging during the nascent stages of capitalism. In the mid‑Ming period, with the emergence of capitalist tendencies, philosophical figures such as Wang Gen, He Xinyin, Luo Rufang, and Li Zhi appeared—thinkers who broke with orthodoxy and left a profound mark on intellectual and cultural life. Early in his career, Tang Xianzu studied under Luo Rufang, learning Daoism from him and reading “non‑sacred” texts. Later, he befriended the radical Chan master Zibai and came to deeply admire the radical thinker Li Zhi, whose “Burning Book” he read with great admiration. As he put it: “Figures like Master Mingde (Rufang) have long dwelt in my heart and mind; I behold the grandeur of Master Ke Shang (Zibai), listen to the brilliance of Li Baiquan (Zhi), and when I trace their style, it is as if I have drawn a fine sword.” Such experiences forged in him a spirit of political and literary resistance and struggle, earning him the nickname “mad slave.” Thus, he not only refused to compromise with autocratic rulers in character but also made his political stance unmistakably sharp and outspoken. 。
In the nineteenth year of the Wanli era (1591), while serving as a chief clerk in the Rites Department’s Ritual Sacrifice Office in Nanjing, Tang Xianzu submitted a memorial titled “On the Prime Minister and the Censorial Officials,” in which he vehemently impeached the Grand Secretary Shen Shixing and the censors Yang Wenju and Hu Runing, exposing their crimes of usurping power, accepting bribes and perverting justice, and ruthlessly exploiting starving commoners. The memorial also launched a broad critique of the political landscape of the twenty years since the Wanli Emperor’s accession. Upon its publication, the emperor was incensed; by imperial edict, Tang Xianzu was banished to Xuweng County on the Leizhou Peninsula to serve as a local magistrate. A year later, following an amnesty, he was reassigned to Suichang in Zhejiang as county magistrate. In Suichang, he abolished cruel punishments such as flogging and execution, discontinued the use of shackles and irons—devices once employed to restrain prisoners—and reduced tax burdens while streamlining administrative procedures. He also established archery halls and renovated academies. At times, he ventured into the countryside to encourage farming, and throughout the year engaged in scholarly exchanges with young literati. This model of upright, reform-minded governance brought about a marked improvement in this remote and impoverished region of central Zhejiang, where mulberry fields, hemp plantations, cattle, and livestock all flourished. Perhaps Tang Xianzu regarded this place as his ideal realm; beyond these benevolent policies, he even unilaterally allowed prisoners to return home for the New Year and permitted them to take to the streets during the Lantern Festival to watch the festivities, acting without hesitation in pursuit of his political ideals. Such conduct ultimately provided his political adversaries with a pretext; when the time came for official evaluations, they seized the opportunity to launch insidious attacks. Tang Xianzu was well aware that others sought to oust him. In the twenty-sixth year of the Wanli era (1598), upon learning that the court planned to dispatch tax collectors to Suichang to harass the populace, he could no longer endure it. Rather than wait for others to attack, he submitted his resignation to the Ministry of Personnel and, without awaiting approval, departed at once, returning to his hometown. Later, when the Ministry of Personnel and the Censorate formally imposed a disciplinary measure of dismissal and retirement on the grounds of “impetuousness,” he had already abandoned that ill‑fated post more than three years earlier.
After leaving his post in Suichang, Tang Xianzu paid a visit to Li Zhi in Lincuan. Following Li’s suicide while in prison, Tang composed a poem of mourning. He also held in high regard the Chan master Daguang (Zibai), who opposed Neo‑Confucianism, praising both Li Zhi and Daguang as “a hero” and “a genius,” and remarking that “to trace their manner of expression is like drawing forth a fine sword.” Their influence largely shaped the ideological foundations underlying Tang Xianzu’s artistic concerns: exposing corrupt politics, opposing the Cheng–Zhu school of Neo‑Confucianism, and striving for the liberation of individuality.
Throughout his life, Tang Xianzu scorned feudal aristocrats and often incurred the displeasure of prominent figures. In his later years, he embraced a modest, ascetic way of life, refusing to curry favor with local officials. This temperament and conduct drew him into close association with Donglin Party members such as Gu Xiancheng and Zou Yuanbiao—men who championed moral integrity and vehemently denounced the corruption of their time—and led him to hold in high regard such “upright” or “unrestrained” figures as Hai Rui and Xu Wei.
In his later years, Tang Xianzu’s outlook grew rather pessimistic, a state of mind linked both to his deep immersion in Buddhist thought and to his prolonged withdrawal from political struggles after resigning from office. He described himself as “a wayward wanderer of a remote province, a remnant of the prosperous age,” adding that he regarded worldly affairs with indifference, simply accepting whatever came his way. Later, he even adopted the sobriquet “Old Man Cocoon.” On the sixteenth day of the sixth month of the forty-fourth year of the Wanli era of the Ming Emperor Shenzong—July 29, 1616—Tang Xianzu passed away in Linchuan.
Tang Xianzu and his works stand as a towering monument in the history of Chinese culture and art—timeless, both historical and contemporary; refined yet accessible to the public; rooted in national identity yet resonant on the global stage. The 2024 Tang Xianzu International Theatre Exchange Month will be solemnly inaugurated on September 26 in Tang Xianzu’s hometown. By sharing the story of Tang Xianzu with the world and fostering mutual learning among diverse cultural traditions, we warmly welcome friends from across the globe to Fuzhou to take part in this grand cultural event, together commemorating and honoring this distinguished dramatist who has bequeathed an invaluable legacy to the treasurehouse of world literature and the arts.
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