Two halves of the same soul

In the long history of Chinese literati culture, three gatherings are remembered above all others.

The first was the Lanting Yaji, or the Orchid Pavilion Gathering, in the year 353. On that day, master calligrapher Wang Xizhi and more than 40 scholars gathered in Shaoxing, Zhejiang province, to compose poetry beside a winding stream. Wang, slightly drunk, wrote a preface after the gathering while compiling the collected poems. It became known as one of the greatest works of Chinese calligraphy, the Preface to the Poems Composed at the Orchid Pavilion.

The gathering happened only once. But that single moment has echoed through centuries.

The second was the Xiyuan Yaji, or the Elegant Gathering in the Western Garden, of the Northern Song Dynasty (960-1127). It took place in Kaifeng, Henan province, in the garden of a royal son-in-law. Sixteen of the era's most brilliant minds, including poet Su Shi, gathered there. Painter Li Gonglin captured the scene. Calligrapher Mi Fu wrote the inscription. Together, they preserved the image of that golden age forever.

The third took place in Bacheng, a small water town in Kunshan, Jiangsu province. Known as the Yushan Yaji, or the Jade Mountain gathering, it convened more than 180 times over three decades during the late Yuan Dynasty (1271-1368), drawing over 400 scholars. It produced not just poetry and painting, but a new form of music: Kunshan qiang, the precursor to Kunqu Opera, one of China's oldest surviving opera forms.

On May 9, a fourth tradition arrived in Bacheng — one with its own long lineage. The Haitang Yaji, known in English as the Crabapple Blossom Gathering or Blossoms of Wisdom, began in the late Qing Dynasty (1644-1911) when Prince Kung invited scholars to compose poetry under the crabapple trees of his Beijing mansion.

During the years when Fu Jen Catholic University was located at the mansion from 1937 to 1952, the event flourished under the patronage of chancellor Chen Yuan. But war and social upheaval later silenced it.

In 2011, at the urging of renowned scholar Zhou Ruchang, Prince Kung's Palace Museum decided to revive the gathering. The first restored session was held later that year.

Throughout its 15 sessions, the Haitang Yaji has developed into a model integrating poetry composition, intangible cultural heritage performances, archival exhibitions, and academic forums. From its Beijing origins, it has traveled to Tianjin, Hangzhou, Zhejiang province, and now Kunshan, Jiangsu province.

"Each of these (first) three gatherings had its own medium," notes Lu Wenjie, deputy director of Prince Kung's Palace Museum. "The Orchid Pavilion is distinguished by its calligraphy, the West Garden by its painting, and the Jade Mountain gathering by its poetry and prose — and through poetry, it further ventured into the creation of opera," Lu adds.

The Haitang Yaji, Lu explains, belongs to a different category, as it continues to be a living tradition.

Adding in AI

In early May this year, the gathering traveled south to the birthplace of Kunqu Opera.

More than 100 poets, scholars, and Kunqu Opera artists and enthusiasts gathered in a classical garden in Bacheng. Poets were invited to compose verses on the spot, following the traditional practice of fenyun fushi, a poetry game in which participants wrote based on randomly assigned rhyme schemes. As they composed, calligraphers nearby transformed the finished poems into brush-written scrolls, their ink strokes landing on paper with practiced precision.

On a small stage, Kunqu Opera singers performed selected arias. Later, Peking Opera and Kunqu Opera shared the same platform — two great theatrical traditions performed side by side. Between the verses and the melodies, the boundary between poetry and song seemed to dissolve.

"This is a dialogue across time and space," Lu says.

In recent years, the organizers of the restored gathering have begun experimenting.

The 2025 gathering introduced an innovation in the form of a poetry contest between humans and artificial intelligence to better engage the public.

This year's gathering, its 15th edition, not only juxtaposed classic Peking Opera with Kunqu Opera performances, but also staged public lectures on classical poetry for local residents, especially teachers and students from nearby schools.

"We want to bring poetry out of the scholar's study and into the classroom," Lu says.

"The Haitang Yaji is not just a oneday event. What happens after the poets go home is what matters," Lu says.

The Haitang Yaji's journey to Kunshan carries special significance, he emphasizes.

"Poetry and Kunqu Opera are not just compatible but are two halves of the same cultural soul," he points out.

Zhou Qin, a literature professor at Soochow University, considers Kunqu Opera "the most beautiful form of poetry".

He points out that the art form preserves something that has largely been lost elsewhere, being a living archive of how China's classical poetry was once sung.

Having received professional training, Zhou Qin says the tradition first requires writing classical poetry and playing the bamboo flute, the instrument that traditionally accompanies Kunqu Opera singers.

Moreover, a true artist should understand the tonal system of classical Chinese, specifically the four tones that govern how each character should be sung, he elaborates.

Last, the skill to fit newly written lyrics into the fixed musical framework of a Kunqu Opera melody is the most difficult, he adds.

"There are more than 2,000 tune patterns in the opera. Each has a fixed musical structure, with the same meter and same rhythm, but the details — the rise and fall of the melody — have to be adjusted to fit each new set of lyrics," he explains.