Chapter 1529 - Talent

Additionally, the Fengcheng had left behind many "residual materials" from its earlier days. Quite a lot of junk retrieved from the ship had been collected from the Planning Commission warehouse: a Nie'er brand upright piano, an accordion with torn bellows, three guitars without strings, a broken karaoke system from the recreation room complete with LD player, a Sansui audio system with turntable, radio, cassette deck, and CD player, a Toshiba VCR, a Sony 21-inch color TV... and finally, two large boxes of cassette tapes, VHS tapes, CDs, LDs, and vinyl records.

"These things are a history of Chinese popular culture from the 1970s through the 1990s," Dongfang Ke couldn't help exclaiming as he sorted through them. The oldest cassettes weren't even official releases—just songs dubbed onto blank tapes manufactured by some obscure Hong Kong factory. The yellowed label paper bore faded handwriting, beautiful by 21st-century standards: Teresa Teng.

As for the dubbed VHS tapes, many had blank labels. When played in the VCR, they revealed blurry "yellow tapes"—pornography—filmed who knows when or where.

The songs and films on these tapes held no value; the vast majority could be found on hard drives in the Planning Commission warehouse. After inspection, they were all handed over to the IT department to serve as data storage devices. The other items were formally transferred to the Cultural Propaganda Department for the Experimental Arts Troupe's use.

For Okamoto, the greatest windfall was a set of lighting fixtures and a control console from the Fengcheng's recreation room. Though almost all the bulbs had burnt out, at least the whole setup still existed and could serve passably for stage lighting.

These things should still work after repairs. The Planning Commission also allocated new equipment—notably, a reasonably adequate recording studio was specially constructed, and even post-production equipment was assembled.

The recording studio itself was a makeshift affair. The county seat had few people, and with no industry nearby, environmental noise was minimal. Though modern sound-absorbing materials weren't available, self-production wasn't difficult—kapok, paper pulp, and similar materials were already widely used in Lingao's construction. As for professional equipment and software, the Planning Commission had made preparations long ago: not only was there stock on hand, but the quality was surprisingly professional.

Recording and mixing equipment wasn't actually expensive: a decent computer plus about ten thousand yuan worth of microphones, audio interface, preamp, and monitor speakers was enough to produce records. Mixing could be handled entirely with software. Professional circles had vast libraries of software effects—reverb, EQ, compression, excitation, pitch correction, rhythm correction... everything. Not only could they enhance sound quality, they could make a tone-deaf singer sound as polished as a professional.

Though the audio quality couldn't match top-tier hardware, ordinary folk couldn't tell the difference. In this timeline, such quality was already godlike.

Moreover, recording equipment proved quite durable. Without being too particular, it could last a decade or more with no quality issues. With the spare parts in the Planning Commission warehouse, the recording studio could hold out for thirty or forty years.

The only problem was that Lingao currently couldn't manufacture tape recorders or magnetic tape, nor produce phonographs or records. The recording studio was somewhat "a sword without a battlefield."

For the moment, the Central Experimental Arts Troupe was well-equipped, and its roster had grown considerably, giving Okamoto a sense of commanding mighty forces. Dongfang Ke didn't dampen his spirits, letting him bustle about humming "Back when my outfit was just starting out" while he himself continued doing accounts for the Finance sector.

But after today's personnel allocation meeting, Okamoto realized his Experimental Arts Troupe lacked the most essential asset: people.

Liu Shuixin was now formally transferred in, but however capable, she was just one person. There were Yuanlao with other artistic skills—plenty could do a bit of playing, singing, or performing—but every department was short-staffed. Getting them transferred full-time proved extremely difficult. After much lobbying, Okamoto had secured only a handful of part-timers.

Teachers were scarce, and suitable performers even scarcer. Okamoto had his heart set on producing an opera—even if not Italian grand opera, at least a light opera would suffice. Just as he was rolling up his sleeves to begin, along came this idol group to compete for resources.

Today was the third-round audition day for the idol group, and the troupe's "star" Liu Shuixin had to serve as judge. Contemplating how the already-thin teaching staff was now being split in half by some idol group, Okamoto couldn't help venting to Dongfang Ke in the office.

"Liu Shuixin is the only professional in our Yuan Elder Court who can both sing and dance and perform." Dongfang Ke wasn't nearly as indignant. Listening to Bach's French Suites while flipping through account books from Cheng Dong, he offered a completely vacuous comment that seemed like pure deflection.

"Would it kill you to do fewer account books?!" Okamoto finally exploded. "You're the artistic director, after all!"

"Deputy director." Dongfang Ke continued in his vacuous tone, setting down the account book. "Okamoto, you started this troupe—you must have some goal."

"Of course—to rehearse light opera..."

Dongfang Ke shook his head. "Light opera isn't bad. But this makes our experimental troupe too highbrow..."

Okamoto understood his meaning. With current conditions, attempting light opera was pure fantasy. Rehearsing a new production, even for a professional arts troupe in the 21st century, required half a year to a year of preparation.

"Of course we can't produce results immediately. My idea is to start training actors first—singing, dancing, set design—start from the most basic elements, build a foundation, and launch projects in a few years when conditions improve."

"That's too slow, and resources won't stretch that far. That idol group can get on stage with just a few people and start performing. Whether natives understand is another matter, but at least at the annual meeting, they'll excite the Yuanlao the moment they appear. What do we have? Send the girls up to strike a few poses?"

"Rehearsing a few songs and dances should be possible."

"Let's focus on that, then. Okamoto, aren't you trained in voice? Start by giving the girls some folk vocal training. And have Teacher Liu teach folk dances, classical dances, things like that. By mid-year the troupe should be able to perform. At least that's an achievement."

"What does this have to do with light opera?" Okamoto remained fixated on his Merry Widow.

Dongfang Ke smiled—a rare occurrence. "Nothing. But if we can't produce results quickly, your light opera will never get staged."

"Fine." Okamoto knew Dongfang Ke was right. What Fang Fei had told Wu Ciren about "results within a year" was surely meant for him too. Without achievements, how could he ask for resources later?

"Fine, let's get closer to the masses. Any other brilliant ideas?"

"No brilliant ideas. Just a small thought. Let's first assemble an orchestra. We probably can't put together a full symphony, so we'll use whatever instruments we have and train some musicians—no matter what you plan going forward, an orchestra is the foundation. I can start teaching piano. I'm not at performance level, but I've got Music Association Level 10. Our most awkward problem is that among Yuanlao, no one is at a truly professional performance level. My piano goes without saying; Liu Shuixin's piano isn't much better—probably just accompanist level. Lando at last year's annual meeting was playing and singing, and had several female Yuanlao swooning—looked impressive, but really he can just get through a piece. No wind or string instruments either, and apart from violinists we can't count on Europeans—Europe at this time is still in early Baroque... different system entirely... so we can't train high-quality musicians... feels like we can only teach basic technique and then let the native students listen to recordings on their own to develop feel..."

"You paint a bleak picture. At this rate, at best we could hold a mediocre solo recital. How can we even talk about an orchestra?"

"That would still be an achievement," Dongfang Ke said. "If you want quick results, you could form a folk music ensemble..."

"That's not a bad idea—something like Twelve Girls Band."

"That's a performance-oriented group—essentially the same as the idol group Wu Ciren wants to create. Selling mainly visual effects." Dongfang Ke immediately drew the distinction. "If we're doing this, let's do a proper folk music ensemble. Instruments and talent aren't lacking—at least they're easier to obtain."

"I recall Yang Yun mentioned that among the refugees taken in during the Engine Plan were opera troupe members. These people should include professional musicians who could be transferred." Okamoto grew interested. "If nothing else, it wouldn't be hard to recruit musicians from Guangzhou or Jiangnan."

"Possibly." Dongfang Ke nodded. "Speaking of which, last time I was at a sentry post outside Bairenfort, I saw a resting Garrison Battalion soldier playing the erhu. I stood there listening for quite a while. His level was definitely concert-grade..."

"Oh? What's his name? Get him transferred!"

"Didn't ask."

Okamoto was floored. Not giving up, he asked approximately what day it had been, planning to search the Garrison Battalion—no matter what, recruit him first.

"There's also another Yuanlao, currently a music teacher at Fangtso Di. You might want to poach him too."

"There's such talent?!"

"I only learned about this expert when I was working on the recording studio. The entire studio plan was his doing. A professional—much more impressive than an amateur hack like me..."

"Why didn't you say so earlier?"

"You didn't ask."

Okamoto decided not to argue the point. "What's his name? Don't tell me you didn't ask again!"

"Something like Nangong something."

"Damn, we're incredible: Dongfang, Okamoto, Nangong—all fancy compound surnames."

"Okamoto isn't a compound surname—that's a Japanese name."

"We'll discuss that later." Okamoto said. "First, get him transferred to the arts troupe!"