The Summer Palace as a Stage for Cross-Cultural Exchange
In the twilight years of the Qing Dynasty, the Summer Palace (Yiheyuan) served not only as Empress Dowager Cixi’s retreat but also as an unlikely venue for cultural collisions between East and West. The arrival of a European circus troupe in this imperial garden during the early 1900s marked one of history’s most fascinating yet overlooked moments of cultural exchange. This episode reveals much about late Qing court life, Western entertainment’s penetration into China, and the complex personality of the formidable Empress Dowager herself.
The Unexpected Invitation: Bringing Western Entertainment to the Imperial Court
The chain of events began when reports reached the Forbidden City about a spectacular European circus performing in Tianjin. Courtiers described astonishing acts—acrobats defying gravity, trained animals performing tricks, and equestrian displays of unparalleled skill. What made this cultural import particularly remarkable was its path to imperial approval.
A Manchu noble dispatched to assess the show returned with enthusiastic praise and photographs that particularly intrigued Cixi. While the empress reportedly scoffed at images of “modern women in gaudy costumes,” she showed genuine fascination with the animal acts and horsemanship. This selective interest reflected both personal taste and traditional Chinese values—an appreciation for nature’s mastery over human spectacle.
The logistics of hosting such a foreign spectacle required careful planning. The circus encampment was established outside the palace walls as a precaution, while the performance space was prepared at the western end of Kunming Lake. The site preparation itself became an imperial event, with Cixi leading noblewomen in harvesting carrots from what would become the circus grounds—a symbolic blending of agricultural tradition and coming entertainment.
Performance Day: A Microcosm of Late Imperial China
The chosen date—the first day of the lunar month—followed palace tradition of scheduling entertainments at auspicious times. The procession to the event revealed the Qing court’s splendor:
– A fleet of ornamented barges crossed Kunming Lake, their silk banners fluttering
– The imperial barge featured golden carpets and yellow silk draperies (color reserved for royalty)
– Two military bands played Western instruments—one belonging to Yuan Shikai, another to Robert Hart of Chinese Maritime Customs
The seating arrangements broke protocol, with officials unusually visible to the imperial family rather than separated by screens. This rare setup allowed foreign observers like the memoir’s author to study China’s power elite unobstructed—from aging mandarins to the promising young Prince Gong’s son, noted for his exceptional grace and education.
The Performance Through Imperial Eyes
The acts elicited mixed reactions from the imperial audience:
– Cixi particularly enjoyed trained dogs and aerial performers who paid her homage mid-act
– The Guangxu Emperor favored equestrian displays, even engaging the foreign observer about them
– A proposed tiger act was abruptly canceled due to Cixi’s well-documented fear of felines—a superstition possibly rooted in her zodiac sign (she was born in the Year of the Sheep, and feared the traditional “sheep in tiger’s mouth” dynamic)
This aversion extended to all felids, contrasting sharply with her well-known fondness for dogs. The imperial kennels reportedly housed numerous breeds, reflecting both personal preference and the symbolic value of canines as protectors against feline threats.
Cultural Reverberations of an Extraordinary Day
For palace women accustomed to rigid protocols, the circus offered unprecedented excitement. The author notes how even normally restrained noblewomen displayed uncharacteristic enthusiasm. Beyond entertainment, the event held deeper significance:
– Demonstrated selective Qing engagement with Western culture under Cixi
– Revealed how foreign innovations (like Western musical instruments) were being assimilated by elites
– Showed the imperial court’s ability to temporarily relax protocols for special occasions
The two military bands present symbolized this cultural blending—Hart’s ensemble founded in 1880s, Yuan’s more recent creation. Their European repertoire played by Chinese musicians mirrored the circus itself: Western form adapted for Eastern context.
Legacy of a Fleeting Cultural Moment
This circus visit represents a tiny but revealing episode in China’s late imperial history. Occurring during the tumultuous years before the dynasty’s collapse, it shows:
1. The Qing court’s complex relationship with foreign influences—embracing some while rejecting others
2. How Western entertainment began penetrating even China’s most traditional spaces
3. Cixi’s personal contradictions—a ruler fiercely protective of tradition yet curious about select foreign novelties
The memoir’s vivid account preserves what official records might overlook: the human dimension of history. We see Cixi not just as a formidable stateswoman but as someone capable of relaxing protocol, taking genuine delight in canine performers, and thoughtfully accommodating foreign guests. The young Guangxu Emperor’s engagement with equestrian arts hints at his broader interest in Western knowledge.
Such cross-cultural encounters, though seemingly minor, accumulated into the seismic shifts that would soon transform China. Within years, the Qing dynasty would fall, but this afternoon at the Summer Palace captures a fleeting moment when East and West met not through conflict or negotiation, but through the universal language of wonder and performance.