Text/Wang Ningzi
When it comes to Liu Gongxin, in a radius of more than ten miles of Dawang Town, Huyi District, Xi'an City, everyone knows about him. He is tall and has a slim body. , with hearty laughter, is a famous movie projectionist and folk woodcarving artist.
In the 1960s and 1970s, Liu Gongxin became a commune projectionist because he was a propaganda officer in the army. In that era of lack of culture, it was both sacred and honorable to find a job in the commune. If you can see his figure in the village, the village will instantly boil, as if he is the farmer who is spreading the rain after a long drought.
I was only five or six years old when I met Uncle Gongxin. My mother worked in the village sewing group. Uncle Gongxin often went to the sewing group to mend the screen, and we became familiar with him as soon as we went there.
In my memory, Uncle Gongxin was wearing a yellow military uniform and riding a weighted bicycle. He was neat, tall and handsome. The most frequently asked question when I saw him at that time was, Uncle, is there a movie here tonight? Whenever he hears this, Uncle Gongxin will laugh and say, I will be the first to tell you when a movie will be shown here for us.
In those days, if there was a movie in a village, the scene would be no less than playing social fire during the New Year. People in the surrounding villages had dinner early before nightfall, and took their families with them, carrying chairs and stools, and meandering. And arrived.
Being a projectionist was an enviable profession in the 1960s and 1970s. In people's eyes, they don't have to work in the fields under the bright sun. They can also preview new movies. But screening is a technical job that cannot be done by just swinging a hoe. Our local saying can best describe this profession - if you can't drink half a tank of swill, don't take the job.
In that era when the spiritual world was barren, the only way for people to see and contact the outside world was through movies. Whenever I see Uncle Gongxin playing things neatly and shouting orders authoritatively, the moment the lights go out, a beam of light is projected from the projector onto the screen, and the noisy scene suddenly becomes silent. At that time, a movie was sometimes shown in two villages on the same night. Village A showed it first, and after the first film was played, they hurriedly handed it over to the projectionist in Village B who had been waiting for a long time, and then rushed towards Village B in the dark of night. If there is a problem with the movie machine in the middle, there will be a lot of complaints, whistles and cheers from the screen, and all kinds of funny gestures will be projected on the screen. Some even grumpy people will yell at the projectionist because they can't wait, but Mr. Gongxin will not say a word. No matter what the weather is like, as long as there is an audience under the screen, the projectionist will brave the wind and rain until the end.
The Tangshan earthquake in 1976 affected Guanzhong.
I remember that there was a movie downstairs at the village opera that night. The audience was getting excited when they suddenly felt that the bench under their buttocks was shaking. The people in front thought that the people behind were acting weird (just kidding). Turning his head violently, the people behind him hurriedly told the people in front that their chairs were shaking, and someone in the crowd made an explosion, "Earthquake!"
Immediately afterwards, a violent storm suddenly came, and there was a panic behind the screen. Mothers were crying and children were shouting one after another. People had no time to pick up their stools and fled like the wind. Downstairs of Nuo Da's theater, only Uncle Gongxin was left in a hurry, swaying back and forth in the wind and rain.
The next day, Uncle Gongxin, who looked tired, came to the sewing group with the screen that was scratched by the wind. Talking about the heart-stopping scene, several aunts gave Uncle Gongxin a thumbs up sincerely. The uncle sighed and said with a wry smile, "That's our duty. We can't damage the movie equipment no matter what we say. It's the treasure of our fellow villagers."
As a rural projectionist, Uncle Gongxin has been running around the countryside for decades, measuring the distance between villages again and again, and spreading the latest news and movies...
After the reform and opening up, Mr. Gongxin raised his own funds to purchase a set of 1,000-watt xenon lamp movie projectors, allowing the villagers to watch higher-end, clear movies. Two years later, he bought back a set of 5505 Songhuajiang landline phone weighing 1.3 tons from Xi'an Jiefang Cinema and fixed it on the truck trunk. The “mobile projection truck” became an instant hit, and the news quickly spread to all parts of the country. Its innovative approach was recognized by relevant departments and promoted to rural areas across the country as a model.
As a veteran, he donated the long scroll of Chairman Mao's portrait he carved to the Yan'an Revolution Memorial Hall free of charge, and his work "Always Follow the Party" was collected by the Shaanxi Provincial Art Museum.
One day in the twelfth lunar month last year, at the invitation of Uncle Gongxin, I walked into his studio. What surprised me was that what I saw were three prints of Mao Zedong from different periods, which were lifelike and lifelike. , the great man's firm eyes, and the majestic "Qinyuan Spring Snow" brought my thoughts back to that prosperous era.
While browsing quietly, I was thinking about an old man who is nearly 70 years old. What beliefs support his dream?
Uncle Gongxin said that without Chairman Mao, there would be no New China. Yes, people of their generation have a deep affection for Chairman Mao under the influence of their fathers, and they also have personal experience of the difficult years to the warm era. This is a seed planted deep in the soul and bone marrow. Chairman Mao was the savior of the people and his idol. Inspired by this spirit, he devoted his whole life to the meticulous carvings of chisels and axes. The cuckoo vomited blood.
I seemed to see an old man braving the scorching heat and cold to search for wood in the Qinling Mountains for this belief. He gnawed on pot helmets when he was hungry and drank spring water when he was thirsty, with the persistence of a man chasing the sun. , I couldn’t help but stand in awe of this spirit, and felt an inexplicable feeling in my heart.
From his fifties to his seventies, he spent more than ten years engraving his love for art with a pair of scarred hands and a carving knife. From his calm smile, I saw the perseverance of an ordinary folk artist. In him, I also saw the power of faith.
If this hobby originally originated from passive livelihood in the past years, it has now evolved into a conscious belief. The sunset is infinitely beautiful and the scenery is at the right time.