Flare, fizz in fusion of ballet
The Chinese ballet drama “Bright Red Star,” a new production by the Shanghai Ballet, takes up the story of Pan Dongzi, a central character in the 1974 Chinese film of the same name.
In the movie, one of the few produced during the “cultural revolution” (1966-76), Pan is the teenage son of a People’s Liberation Army officer. When the father is called away for duty, he gives Pan a red star to symbolize the Communist cause. In the father’s absence, Pan has to contend with a returned cruel village landlord who exacts revenge on the peasants who forced him to flee. In the process, Pan’s mother is burned to death in their home.
The ballet that debuts in late October takes up the tale when Pan is an adult and a Red Army soldier on the Long March. Set against changing stage scenes in the background, Pan recalls his turbulent teenage years and how the red star left to him by his father gave him the strength and the inspiration to survive.
“The military withdrawal undertaken by the Red Army between the years 1934 and 1935 is of great importance in the history of the Chinese revolution,” says Zhao Ming, choreographer of the ballet commissioned to commemorate the 40th anniversary of China’s reform and opening-up to the world.
“I hope this ballet interpretation of that history will inspire more popularity for revolutionary-themed works and inspire kindred souls to live more imaginative and romantic lives,” he says. “Together, we can all create a more beautiful world.”
Zhao, 58, was born into a military family in Kunming, capital of southwest China’s Yunnan Province. He attended military schools for the better part of his teen years, though his true passion was dance. His extraordinary talent did not go unnoticed.
In 1974, he was enrolled in the Beijing Armored Force Engineering Performance Troupe, which paved way for his future career.
“Going to Beijing, being a soldier and dancing — it was like a dream come true,” Zhao tells Shanghai Daily.
In his three years with the military troupe, Zhao worked very hard and showed an instinctive talent for the art of dance. Rather than settle for the assignments demanded by the teachers, Zhao would often add his own ideas to practice dancing. Criticized at times for his individuality, he was never discouraged.
In 1977 he came through the dance exams with flying colors and went on to major in Chinese classical dancing at the Beijing Dance Academy.
“But what really changed me was the first nationwide dancing competition held in 1985,” he says. “It had been years since the last competition was held because of the “cultural revolution” (1966-76), when such performing arts were strictly regulated.”
With his solo performance of “Song of the Imprisoned,” Zhao won third place in the dance competition, earning himself a ticket to perform at the American Dance Festival the next year. He also won a scholarship for one-year study in modern dance at Duke University of North Carolina.
“It was the first dance I choreographed myself,” he said of “Song of the Imprisoned.” “I used strips of rubber bands as props to symbolize a cage I was trying to break though. Drawing on years of strict training in classical Chinese dance, I combined a lot of jumping, kicking and punching. The struggle of the body is a metaphor for the struggle within the minds of the Chinese people, who wanted so much to escape from shackles and to embrace the world with open arms.”
File photo of Zhao Ming in the “Song of the Imprisoned”
A stream of archive video on his mobile shows the 25-year-old Zhao, dressed in plain white trousers, swooping across a bare, white stage, combining fluid elegance with the fizzing flare of kung fu movements.
“Even today when I look at it, I can’t help but feel the pride, confidence and sensation it gave me,” Zhao says.
The year spent in the United States not only opened Zhao’s eyes but also his body and mind. Nicknamed “prince of dance” by his master dance class colleagues, Zhao says it was the first time he found the magic of free body movement.
“Many leading choreographers and dancers of that time came to our class, including Martha Graham, Merce Cunningham and Paul Taylor, from whom I learned how to focus on elegance and power in the legs, how to promote my body’s ability to work as a cohesive unit and how to avoid injuries in the ankles and feet,” Zhao says.
Most important of all, Zhao says he saw the importance of dance in a well-rounded education. Because dance expressions are unlimited, people may find great joy in letting loose and moving to music in freestyle body movements. Dance helps them improve coordination, balance, fitness, strength and endurance.
“I daresay, if our national footballers could have some experience in dance, they would perform better,” Zhao says.
Returning home from the US, he tried different ways to apply what had learned. But all art needs an audience, says Zhao.
China underwent dramatic changes in its social fabric in the early 1990s as the country opened wider to the outside world. The vast majority of students at China’s conservatories and dance schools began to take performance and composition classes modeled on Western curricula.
In big cities, there was a booming underground trade in cut-price pirated CDs and tapes of pop and rock hits from Europe and the US. TV shows like sitcoms, Japanese cartoons and dating shows also gained popularity. It was the start of a modern trend in entertainment.
“The work you create has to serve your audience,” Zhao says. “There has been a change of tastes in audiences that used to favor revolutionary or military-related performances.”
To find his way, Zhao headed out again. In 1992 he went to Hong Kong and became a contract dancer with the Hong Kong Ballet.
Zhao Ming (center) was named an honorary fellow by the Hong Kong Academy for Performing Arts in 2011.
“Many told me Hong Kong was a cultural desert, but I don’t agree,” says Zhao, “Elements of traditional Chinese culture combined with Western influences have shaped every facet of Hong Kong, including the performing arts.”
He added, “There is a variety of artistic activities. The annual arts festival in Hong Kong showcased top international artists and ensembles, including classical music, Chinese music, world music, Western opera, Chinese opera, drama and dance. Hong Kong at that time was a melting pot of diversity and culture, and I came to understand what it means to embody ‘Chinese characteristics.’”
After nearly three years in Hong Kong, the confluence of Chinese and Western dance cultures was embraced by Zhao, who became recognized as master of Chinese dance, modern dance and ballet.
In 1995, Zhao returned to Beijing. He retired from performing at age 35 to devote himself to choreography, using rhythms, acrobatics and mime. He first rose to fame for a series of military-themed dances for the Comrade-in-Arms Art Ensemble, such as “Walk, Run, Jump” “Silent Warrior” and “Soldiers Melody.”
In 2005, drawing inspiration from classical dance and traditional Chinese acrobatics, his version of “Swan Lake” for the Guangdong Acrobatic Troupe thrilled audiences when it premiered at the Shanghai Grand Theater.
“A dancer’s en-pointe pirouette on top of her partner’s head had audiences gasping,” commented the British daily The Telegraph.
Starting in the 2010s, Zhao moved on to historical dance dramas, including “Farewell My Concubine,” “Consort Yang” and “Dream of the Red Chamber.” The striking scenes of the ballets gripped the hearts of viewers in Shanghai when they were staged at Shanghai international arts festivals in recent years.
Zhao is the only double winner for “Best Choreography” at the biennial Lotus Awards, China’s top dance honors. His choreography is neither classical, nor contemporary nor traditional Chinese dance, but, rather, a combination of all three styles, spiced with some breath-taking acrobatic formations.
“Dance drama covers so much that I could not limit myself to any single dance genre,” says Zhao, who is now vice chairman of the China Dance Association.
For him, every production he creates is a breakthrough in his career. In “Bright Red Star,” audiences will be treated to a four-person tour de force depicting the child Pan Dongzi, the grown-up Pan, his father and his mother. From a little boy, Pan follows the red star given to him by his father. He eventually becomes a Red Army soldier, ready to fight for freedom just as his father did.
“It took me weeks to think out clearly the logic behind the movements,” says Zhao.” I thought of different solutions, but nothing is more expressive than a simple hug. With the four dancers embracing one another and sometimes kissing, all is perfect and agreed.”
He says he poured all his emotion into the choreography.
“And I demanded the performers do the same,” he says. “Sincerity in art is a matter of skill that can’t simply be willed. If you want a piece of work to impress an audience, you have to move yourself to tears first.”
“Nothing is more expressive than a simple hug.” Zhao shows Shanghai Ballet performers how to stage a scene in the new production.
Performance Info
Date: October 24-28, 7:30pm
Tickets: 80-880 yuan
Venue: Grand Theater, Shanghai International Dance Center
Address: 1650 Hongqiao Rd
