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Yesterday on Facebook James Zhu (Chu) warned any fans who planned to attend Saturday night’s 100 Anniversary gala in Zhudong to take along some nuan nuan bao, i.e., heat packs. And if a Canadian tells you it is going to be a cold night, then the weather is indeed going to be wintry. After some confusion on my part as to the location of the concert (I had entertained the wrongheaded notion that Zhudong Park was in Hsinchu (Xinzhu) rather than in Zhudong, Hsinchu County) V, H and I finally managed to locate the venue around 6 pm, not long after dusk. Already the temperature was only about 11 degrees with a severe wind chill factor adding to the sense of cold.

We soon saw that a stage under a marquee had been set up on a paved area with no actual riverside to be seen. The stage was flanked by a few small tents; their canvas sides were being whipped about by the wind. Several rows of small plastic chairs were arrayed out in the open air at the front of the stage. The front three rows on the right were at first empty. They were reserved for local dignitaries, who finally turned up after 7 pm. Initially, I was able to find a seat in the fourth row behind these reserved seats, between a diminutive aboriginal woman on my left and grumpy older local woman on my right. When the formalities and speeches were over, and most of the politicians opted to leave rather than listen to the concert, the grumpy woman and I bravely moved up into the second row. She took a strong dislike to the opening act, however, declaring that the youth in the sparkling belt and necktie had sung 很難廳, i.e., very badly. She departed and never returned.

I thought he was an adequate singer (I don’t know what his name was) but I was less pleased with the vast amount of time wasted by the compere with inane chit chat: he was another young man who favoured the sparkles and sagging trousers look. Between acts, he peppered the audience with quiz questions, which many locals did seem to enjoy and try to answer. The winners received something in small boxes, possibly chocolate. Later on, he drew a seemingly interminable raffle, calling out full names rather than numbers. Finally, a woman singer with a local following came on, and picked her way through two ballads, with an indifferent voice and wavering pitch. To be fair, I think she had a bad cold, and the temperature was steadily falling, while drops of rain spattered intermittently.

Jacky Zhu (right) chats with the cheerful compere at the Zhudong Park gala.

At some point during all this country fun, I had caught sight of Jacky slipping past us on our right, clad in jeans, a t-shirt, an open flannel shirt and a leather jacket. He disappeared backstage and I hoped he would be on next, which indeed–finally–he was. The compere gave him a rousing introduction, mentioning 183 Club, which provoked a few squeaks of excitement from an otherwise frozen audience. Jacky at once launched into his signature ballad, Gao Jie. He must have sung it live dozens of times by now, and I’ve heard several recorded versions and one live performance of it, in January at Ximen Red House. Yet he still mananged to bring something fresh to it. Undefeated by the cold, he sang with a full, strong, confident voice. His professionalism and talent were in every way remarkable.

Jacky Zhu sings Gao Jie at Zhudong Park.

After some additional banter with the compere, he took up an old 183 Club favourite, Zhen Ai (貞 愛.) This lilting ballad had served as the closing theme for the 2005 SETTV idol drama, The Prince Who Turned into a Frog. I really enjoyed last night’s rendition. One of the problems with 183 Club–and I hope I will get away with this critique now that the dust has settled–is that often their songs began well when they were opened either by Jacky or by Ehlo Huang–but then they went downhill fast as the raucous voices of the other three members took their turns. So it was wonderful to hear Jacky’s warm and engaging voice carry the melody all the way through.

The compere (left) looks colder than James Zhu at the Zhudong Park concert.

Jacky departed after only two songs, but James was up next. He had taken his own advice about the weather, and was wearing a heavy winter jacket with a faux fur collar. He looked pleased to be on stage, and was absolutely incandescent as he sang a slow, mood piece I had once heard Jacky sing last year on Jin Qu Chao Ji Xing (金曲超級星)–I forget its name. In the instrumental break he came down into the audience and shook the hand of everyone sitting in the front on the left, but then, just as he turned to us politician-seat -usurpers on the right, the next verse came up and he jumped back on stage to sing it from there. So our row missed out on the hand shake. Alas! Nonetheless, I continued to brandish my comped glow stick with enthusiasm.

James then chose to sing a cover of Bryan Adams’s I Do It for You. In the past I have never quite approved of his tackling this song. I am anyway not all that keen on even the Adams version with its grandiose, overly emotional lyrics. And James’s small, intimate, whispery voice sometimes seemed inadequate to carry it off. Last night, though, he sang confidently and with great energy. As I discovered in January at the brothers’ epic Red House concert, James sings really effectively live. He brought considerable depth of feeling to the lyrics. When he sang ‘I’d die for you,’ I almost believed him.

James Zhu sings an arresting cover vesion of 'I Do It for You' at Zhudong Park.

James said a definitive goodbye and as it appeared–sadly–that the brothers would not be called back to do a duet. Just then my two companions appeared at my side and announced they were just about frozen through, so we agreed to depart. Hearing last night’s handful of numbers at Zhudong Park, however, confirmed in my mind that the Zhu brothers charge every song they sing with an intensity of personal meaning, as if each one were the last song they’d ever get the chance to perform. In all of Mandopop, there is no one else who combines feeling and consummate musicality quite as well as they do. It’s therefore not surprising that fans will turn up even at remote country venues in freezing weather to hear them sing.

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