After all, a name is really just a label. There are too many things in this world whose names bear little resemblance to their true nature — perhaps because the namers were amusingly careless. The name “Kunshan” contains the character for “mountain,” yet this area of one thousand square kilometers is 23% water. Just like our planet is called “Earth,” yet 71% of it is ocean, making you want to know more about this region, this homeland.
Most people, when they think of Kunshan, first picture its scenery, because this beautiful place has given countless individuals so much of their dreams of a water town. Zhouzhuang, Jinxi, Qiandeng… These names may not often roll off the tongue, but the emotions they evoke live on in the heart. Here, you can drift into a sweet dream listening to the soothing, comforting sound of flowing water, or gaze at the serene, gentle, and intoxicating old streets as you step into the mortal world. Here, you can transcend the mundane, listening to the tales of the ancient town with your soul — every bluestone slab has a story to tell, and you can hear them under every gracefully upturned roof. Here, you can also immerse yourself in the everyday, witnessing the most ordinary life with the simplest of hearts — the murmurs of elders at every alleyway corner are moments you’ll cherish and reflect on for years to come. The beauty of Kunshan begins in dreams and ends in reality.
Some, when they speak of Kunshan, also recall the people of this land. Gu Yanwu, one of the Three Great Confucian Scholars of the late Ming and early Qing dynasties, was profoundly learned, broad-minded, and accomplished in fields such as classical studies, history, and phonology. When you walk through the Gu family’s courtyards, can you truly grasp the meaning of “The rise and fall of the nation concerns everyone”? Gui Youguang, leader of the “Tang-Song School,” is widely admired in recent years for the line at the end of his “Record of the Thatched Hut of Close Observations”: “In the courtyard there is a loquat tree, planted by my wife the year she died. Now it stands tall, its canopy spread wide” — yet few know of this Master Zhenchuan’s contributions to hydraulic engineering and book collecting. The culture of Kunshan is hidden within every academy and historical site, revealed with every new discovery and moment of resonance.
Then there are those who, upon mentioning Kunshan, are enchanted by the sounds of this land. Kunqu Opera, born in the gentle regions of southern Jiangnan, naturally adds an infinitely enchanting hue to Kunshan. From the Jiajing to the Wanli era, Kunqu evolved from a local folk tune into a grand theatrical performance, continuously absorbing vocal styles from beyond the Kunshan tune itself, refining itself over time to become its own distinctive school. Most Kunqu scripts directly or indirectly inherit from the Northern Zaju of the Song and Yuan dynasties and the Southern Opera of the Song and Yuan periods, combining literary elegance and scholar’s sensibility to present artistry at its pinnacle. Amidst Kunshan’s landscapes, ancient towns, and waterways, set to the movements, singing, and recitals of Kunqu, one enters a garden and awakens from a dream, never tiring of lingering in the Peony Pavilion.
Today’s Kunshan is a Kunshan that carries the charm of endless waters, a Kunshan that bears the hopes of generations past, and also a Kunshan that showcases itself with the most graceful poise through the art of Kunqu. Perhaps you are already familiar with her, or perhaps you once passed her by — but only when you truly walk into her heart can you understand her completely. Many years have passed, and she is still waiting for you to listen — to her endless “Tales of Kunshan.”