Meritorious Artist Song Thao: The singing woman

(Baonghean) - She sat there, in the dim light of the living room, next to a dusty vase of colorful artificial flowers, and sang: "The sun shines this afternoon, the afternoon shines on both banks, my dear/ The wind blows, the clouds touch the horizon/ The sea is calm, my boat sails out to sea/ Her voice sings slowly, missing you, far away..." She stunned me with her clear voice, as if not eroded by time or age. And suddenly, I felt like her, not in a dim light room, next to a dusty vase, but standing in front of the sea with thousands of waves...

Meritorious Artist Song Thao said that when she started singing, she was no longer herself. She was a girl “far away” with immense longing, the longing of a wife waiting for her husband, of a lover waiting for her lover on the other side during the days when her country was divided. She was a girl from “Lam Hong hometown” who quickly walked to the provincial market and spoke lovingly to the boy who was holding her shirt: “Darling, let go of my shirt…”. She was a lonely woman on cold winter nights, a sister advising her younger brother before getting married… Incarnating herself in each melody to speak her heart, she was a silkworm that drew out its intestines to send people the golden silk threads of joy and sadness.

Meritorious Artist Song Thao

I saw that “singing woman”, quietly in her house, like many other women, busy with her duties as a wife, a mother, a grandmother. She washed a large tub of clothes, she fixed a clock that had just stopped running, she hurried to the market, she excitedly welcomed her grandchild back from school. “She was sure that when she retired, she would no longer be involved in acting. She said that, but she did not know that this career had become ingrained in her blood and flesh. She could not give it up, my child” - Meritorious Artist Song Thao said to me thoughtfully. She missed the stage, and so many memories, so many regrets suddenly came flooding back when evoked…

She remembered the day she was a little girl, clinging to her father's back to watch a play in the countryside of Trung Thanh, Yen Thanh. Her hometown at that time had many opera troupes. She was the only daughter in the family, her parents had to pray for a long time to have her, so she was very pampered. Her sister-in-law "had a position" in the opera troupe so she also took her along. At the age of 10, she was already good at singing opera, at the age of 12, 13, she followed the commune opera troupe to festivals in Vinh. Therefore, she "caught the eye" of the cultural workers of the province.

In 1957, the General Political Department's Art Troupe came to perform in Yen Thanh. Seeing a beautiful singing girl named Song Thao, the troupe wanted to recruit her. However, Song Thao's family did not agree. To her mother and brothers (at this time, her father had passed away), this daughter was a treasure of the family, not easy to let go of. Until 1959, when Song Thao was just 17 years old, the Nghe An Art Troupe was established, artist Thanh Tung traveled to Yen Thanh to "ask little Song Thao to come back and establish the art troupe". Loving and missing her daughter, her mother and brothers still did not agree. So artist Thanh Tung had to stay to persuade her for 3 days. Then he himself drove Song Thao to Vinh. Loving the acting profession with all his heart, having joined the art troupe, but that day, little Song Thao could not forget her homesickness and her mother's longing. Crying was not enough, she also tried to find a way to escape back home. “Luckily, every time I was about to leave, when I reached the gate, I saw director Trung Phong, with a goatee and a fierce look, so I was… scared. Then there was Kim Xuan (artist Kim Xuan) who always encouraged me, every night she hugged me, she let me snuggle into her armpit to find warmth like a mother even though I was only 2 years older. And my mother came to visit every 2 weeks, so gradually I got used to it” - Song Thao said.

In the troupe, Song Thao sang songs, sang cheo, and acted in plays. By the end of 1960, Song Thao was sent to study vocal remedial classes in Hanoi, and in 1961, she returned to the troupe. The first role that left an impression on the audience, which she considered the "first role of her acting career", was the role of Tam in the cheo play "Tam Cam" (the troupe staged in 1962). During the days when the troupe performed the cheo play at Lam Hong Theater, the audience was packed. Song Thao was deeply moved when she realized that in the audience there was an elderly woman who came to see her perform every day and... silently cried. At the end of the performance, that special audience member found Song Thao backstage and choked up: "Tam, you are so beautiful, why did your life have to suffer so much?". Song Thao - Tam at that time also choked up in gratitude and felt a joy rising within her, which she believed any actor would wish to experience: a very successful role-playing. Later, Song Thao had a role of a lifetime, "nailing" her name as the role of Ms. Nghe in the famous play "The Girl of the Lam River" by director Nguyen Trung Phong. From the famous Cheo play with 4 Gold Medals, 4 Silver Medals at the Northern Theater Festival, "The Girl of the Lam River" was adapted into a folk drama, following the Nghe An Folk Song Troupe (later separated from the Cultural Troupe) and Song Thao to new heights of glory. Later, it was also the excerpt of "The Girl of the Lam River" that brought Song Thao the Gold Medal at the national singing competition held in Quy Nhon in 1982.

People also mentioned Song Thao as Miss Hanh in “The Fire of Hong Mountain” (author Luong Xuan Hao), the older sister in “The River Wharf” (author Nguyen Trung Phong), and Ms. Liem in “Not Me” (author Nguyen Trung Giap). In addition, the name Song Thao also echoed with famous songs of the time such as “Far Out” (Nguyen Tai Tue), “Looking at the Tree, I Remember You” (Do Nhuan), “Let Go of My Shirt” (Hoang Thanh)… Wherever Song Thao sang, she was always encouraged and forced to sing over and over again. People compared her to a lark, singing its clearest and most shrillest song.

I asked Song Thao about her acting career, she smiled slowly: How can I tell you all my memories? Yes, how can I tell you all the heartbreaking years of raising a small child and performing (10 months of touring a year, 2 months of practicing plays). How can I tell you all the times of having to tie my belly when I was pregnant to perform on stage, the times of performing on hot battlefields where bombs had just stopped... She said, perhaps there are few people like her, in order to pursue her acting career, her mother followed her daughter for 25 years to look after her 5 small children when she went on long tours and studied in Hanoi. And until now, every time it rains, she cannot forget that memory of 1968, when her first daughter was less than 4 months old, she was sent to study Theatre Theory in Hung Yen. Carrying both her old mother and small child along. That time, her daughter caught whooping cough. The cough tore the young mother's heart out. Someone told her to find the leaves of the rose and white leaves to treat coughs. To find the leaves, she borrowed a bicycle early in the morning and went from Hung Yen to Hanoi, passing through Lenin Park... to steal the white leaves, then cycled back in time for school in the afternoon. Her child did not get better, so she took advantage of a few days off to take her mother and child to Hanoi to treat the illness. On the way back, when she got off the car, it was late afternoon, from the national highway turning into the school, it was still about 10 kilometers, and it was raining heavily and windy. With only a small piece of plastic, her mother let her daughter hold her grandchild. Her mother carried two baskets, one carrying flour and the other carrying clothes, enduring the rain and wind. On the deserted, slippery road that day, there were only the shadows of two women and a little girl, swaying in the wind. It got darker and darker, the rain got heavier and heavier. Only waiting for the lightning to flash to see the road. At 1 a.m., the three of them arrived at school. Her mother told her in tears: "If I knew you would have to suffer like this, I would never have let you pursue acting." She was silent, but deep down, she thought that no matter what, she would never leave the spotlight.

She said, despite the hardships and bitterness, her acting career's glories are also worth being proud of: 2 national gold medals, 1 national silver medal, being awarded the Uncle Ho badge, and being awarded the title of Meritorious Artist in 1984. For her, the greatest pride is meeting Uncle Ho 3 times, performing for him, and being given candy by him. The first time was in 1961, when he returned to his hometown in 1961, the Nghe An Art Troupe performed for him. The next 2 times were in 1965, she went to the Northern music and dance festival, went to the Presidential Palace to sing for him, and went to the exhibition with him. In 1969, she went to Hanoi to practice for a performance abroad in the hope of meeting him, but she heard that he had passed away. At that time, the song "Looking at the tree and remembering him" was adapted by musician Do Nhuan from the folk song "Angry but loving" of Nghe Tinh and was looking for someone to sing. Musician Do Nhuan met Song Thao, and the two had 15 minutes to practice, then recorded and broadcast on Voice of Vietnam Radio. During those sorrowful days, the song performed by Song Thao echoed with the tears of countless people visiting Uncle Ho… She said, when she sang that song, her tears also kept falling. “The song may not be technically correct, but it resonated with all my sorrow and respect for Uncle Ho” – Song Thao recalled…

In 1989, Song Thao left the Folk Song Group and retired. She was busy being a wife, a mother, and a grandmother, as if she had been indebted to all her family members for the past years to be able to stand on stage. However, it was not easy to stop singing. She said that she was a bird, and could not help but sing. She enthusiastically participated in local cultural movements, joined the population propaganda team - family planning... And there were many times, like now, when someone came and said they wanted to hear her sing, her clear voice would rise again, as if it had never been eroded or covered with dust by time. I looked at her, and before my eyes was not a 73-year-old woman, but a 20-year-old girl standing in front of the sea and wanting her voice to overcome thousands of waves to reach her loved ones...

Article and photos:Thuy Vinh