The show had to go on
This is the story of how a Belgian band battled a storm in Beijing and struggled via plane and train to get to its concert in Anhui on time.
About 200 concertgoers at a theater in Ma'anshan, Anhui province, suddenly found themselves watching a film.
The movie was Mission: Impossible 3, and the band they were waiting for — Lexy's Lads Dixieland Band — had its own mission almost impossible trying to get from Beijing to Anhui on time for the performance.
The 12 Belgian musicians and their Chinese coordinator, Zuo Kemeng, were stuck in Beijing, battling the biggest deluge the capital had experienced in more than 60 years.
They had landed in the capital on the morning of July 21, and should have had enough time to arrive in Ma'anshan for their evening concert — their first stop in a 10-city tour of China.
From the airport they were to have taken a domestic transfer to Nanjing and connect to a coach that would take them to the theater. The musicians were all very excited and already discussing plans to return for another visit to enjoy the attractions at leisure.
Zuo, who runs a performing arts agency in Shanghai, realized there was trouble when the flight attendant woke her up while she was dozing on the plane to Nanjing. They were still on the runway. And it was pouring outside.
Passengers were asked to get off the plane as the airline had no idea when or if the flight would take off. About 50 flights had already been delayed and the terminal was crowded with passengers bumped off flights.
It was 12:55 pm, six hours before the performance.
Zuo immediately called the organizer of the concert in Ma'anshan, Sa Shibin, and after a quick discussion with band conductor Alex Steurs, they decided to take the train instead.
The next problem was to get their luggage back, and they had to wait for their turn as more than 100 irate passengers demanded their bags from the airline. For the band, they would not have been able to perform without their musical instruments or costumes.
As they waited, the band rehearsed, singing without music, and bringing a spot of unexpected sunshine to the chaotic airport where people were starting to shout for food, compensation, or reservation changes.
"It did look like a scene from the Titanic," recalls Steurs, smiling. "We never experienced such heavy rain in our lives, and the gloomy sky made the situation even worse."
Zuo was too busy to enjoy the music, and was scrambling to ask friends to help buy train tickets and find a car to ferry the band to the train station.
At 3 pm, the band finally claimed their luggage and rushed to find the vehicle they had reserved. As they came out of the terminal concourse, they were greeted by torrential rain but the car was nowhere to be found.
By the time they got on to the shuttle bus from the airport to Beijing South Station, everyone was soaking wet. It was past 3:30 pm and the bus could only travel at 60-70 km per hour along the very wet roads. Zuo called Sa again, and they started putting contingency measures in place.
At the Guangqumen overpass, the shuttle bus was stopped by rising flood waters and the band members had to get off, carry their luggage and look for the nearest subway station.
They did not know it then, but this was the same spot that claimed a life a few hours later when a driver caught in the floods was drowned in his car.
"I really could not remember which station we got to. I was too focused on how to transport the musicians and their instruments safely from the bus," Zuo says.
Battling rain and perspiration, the group ran into the subway station with everyone carrying about 20 kg of heavy brass instruments, books and wine bought at the airport. But no one complained.
They got on the train with two minutes to spare. It was 5 pm, and they would only arrive in Ma'anshan at 9:30 pm at the earliest.
When the musicians knew they would have no time to rest or prepare, they decided to clean up on the train, shaving or putting on contact lenses in the narrow cubicle restrooms on the train.
"We hurried as if we were about to meet a girlfriend we haven't seen in years," Steurs says.
In Ma'anshan, the organizers put up a billboard announcing the band's situation, and theater staff frantically called ticket holders to tell them of the delay. Another member of the staff took up position in the lobby, explaining to those who had arrived on time.
The audience was persuaded to pass the time watching Mission: Impossible 3, screened from a projector usually used for staff meetings.
Ten minutes to 10 pm, the rather bedraggled band finally arrived, and delighted theater staff rushed to relieve them of their luggage.
"They were all wet, but some still managed to joke that this was something historic," Yu Yangxue, director of the theater's marketing department recalls. "They could have cancelled the performance and no one would have blamed them, but they showed us what professionalism is."
The concert started at 10 pm, and the band shone on stage as they played to an audience of about 500. More than 80 percent of ticket holders had stayed for the show and no one left during the 90-minute performance.
"It was pretty late for the residents in this small city," Zuo says. "The fact that they came, stayed and gave us huge applause — that was so touching."
The musicians were equally touched. They had prepared six Chinese songs for the tour and were planning to play one or two in each city. At Ma'anshan, they played all six songs and the band members went down into the audience, greeting them.
"We love China. Most of the people we meet here are nice and helpful," Steurs says.
"We look forward to coming back."
By the time the concert ended, the musicians had had a 36-hour day, having left Amsterdam for Beijing on the afternoon of July 20. They had battled rain and delays, crowded airports, flooded highways and the biggest rains ever to hit Beijing in six decades.
David Shen, director of Holland's S&L Cultural Exchange Center and one of the concert's organizers, summed it up: "They showed great understanding and patience, we really appreciated their professionalism. Steurs kept saying 'The show must go on'."
And indeed it did.
About 200 concertgoers at a theater in Ma'anshan, Anhui province, suddenly found themselves watching a film.
The movie was Mission: Impossible 3, and the band they were waiting for — Lexy's Lads Dixieland Band — had its own mission almost impossible trying to get from Beijing to Anhui on time for the performance.
The 12 Belgian musicians and their Chinese coordinator, Zuo Kemeng, were stuck in Beijing, battling the biggest deluge the capital had experienced in more than 60 years.
They had landed in the capital on the morning of July 21, and should have had enough time to arrive in Ma'anshan for their evening concert — their first stop in a 10-city tour of China.
From the airport they were to have taken a domestic transfer to Nanjing and connect to a coach that would take them to the theater. The musicians were all very excited and already discussing plans to return for another visit to enjoy the attractions at leisure.
Zuo, who runs a performing arts agency in Shanghai, realized there was trouble when the flight attendant woke her up while she was dozing on the plane to Nanjing. They were still on the runway. And it was pouring outside.
Passengers were asked to get off the plane as the airline had no idea when or if the flight would take off. About 50 flights had already been delayed and the terminal was crowded with passengers bumped off flights.
It was 12:55 pm, six hours before the performance.
Zuo immediately called the organizer of the concert in Ma'anshan, Sa Shibin, and after a quick discussion with band conductor Alex Steurs, they decided to take the train instead.
The next problem was to get their luggage back, and they had to wait for their turn as more than 100 irate passengers demanded their bags from the airline. For the band, they would not have been able to perform without their musical instruments or costumes.
As they waited, the band rehearsed, singing without music, and bringing a spot of unexpected sunshine to the chaotic airport where people were starting to shout for food, compensation, or reservation changes.
"It did look like a scene from the Titanic," recalls Steurs, smiling. "We never experienced such heavy rain in our lives, and the gloomy sky made the situation even worse."
Zuo was too busy to enjoy the music, and was scrambling to ask friends to help buy train tickets and find a car to ferry the band to the train station.
At 3 pm, the band finally claimed their luggage and rushed to find the vehicle they had reserved. As they came out of the terminal concourse, they were greeted by torrential rain but the car was nowhere to be found.
By the time they got on to the shuttle bus from the airport to Beijing South Station, everyone was soaking wet. It was past 3:30 pm and the bus could only travel at 60-70 km per hour along the very wet roads. Zuo called Sa again, and they started putting contingency measures in place.
At the Guangqumen overpass, the shuttle bus was stopped by rising flood waters and the band members had to get off, carry their luggage and look for the nearest subway station.
They did not know it then, but this was the same spot that claimed a life a few hours later when a driver caught in the floods was drowned in his car.
"I really could not remember which station we got to. I was too focused on how to transport the musicians and their instruments safely from the bus," Zuo says.
Battling rain and perspiration, the group ran into the subway station with everyone carrying about 20 kg of heavy brass instruments, books and wine bought at the airport. But no one complained.
They got on the train with two minutes to spare. It was 5 pm, and they would only arrive in Ma'anshan at 9:30 pm at the earliest.
When the musicians knew they would have no time to rest or prepare, they decided to clean up on the train, shaving or putting on contact lenses in the narrow cubicle restrooms on the train.
"We hurried as if we were about to meet a girlfriend we haven't seen in years," Steurs says.
In Ma'anshan, the organizers put up a billboard announcing the band's situation, and theater staff frantically called ticket holders to tell them of the delay. Another member of the staff took up position in the lobby, explaining to those who had arrived on time.
The audience was persuaded to pass the time watching Mission: Impossible 3, screened from a projector usually used for staff meetings.
Ten minutes to 10 pm, the rather bedraggled band finally arrived, and delighted theater staff rushed to relieve them of their luggage.
"They were all wet, but some still managed to joke that this was something historic," Yu Yangxue, director of the theater's marketing department recalls. "They could have cancelled the performance and no one would have blamed them, but they showed us what professionalism is."
The concert started at 10 pm, and the band shone on stage as they played to an audience of about 500. More than 80 percent of ticket holders had stayed for the show and no one left during the 90-minute performance.
"It was pretty late for the residents in this small city," Zuo says. "The fact that they came, stayed and gave us huge applause — that was so touching."
The musicians were equally touched. They had prepared six Chinese songs for the tour and were planning to play one or two in each city. At Ma'anshan, they played all six songs and the band members went down into the audience, greeting them.
"We love China. Most of the people we meet here are nice and helpful," Steurs says.
"We look forward to coming back."
By the time the concert ended, the musicians had had a 36-hour day, having left Amsterdam for Beijing on the afternoon of July 20. They had battled rain and delays, crowded airports, flooded highways and the biggest rains ever to hit Beijing in six decades.
David Shen, director of Holland's S&L Cultural Exchange Center and one of the concert's organizers, summed it up: "They showed great understanding and patience, we really appreciated their professionalism. Steurs kept saying 'The show must go on'."
And indeed it did.
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