Tag: shen yun

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A Transcendent Art Form: 3 Siblings Join a Cultural Renaissance Spearheaded by Shen Yun

(From L to R) Adam, Lillian, and Katherine Parker are unexpected ambassadors for a millennia-old Chinese art form. (Samira Bouaou)

A “white Mulan?” That’s weird, they bluntly told her.

Katherine Parker, an award-winning dancer with Shen Yun Performing Arts, the world’s premier classical Chinese dance company, recalled the first time that she portrayed a historical figure in a dance. For a local competition, she wanted to tell the story of Hua Mulan, the courageous heroine of one of ancient China’s best-known legends. Despite her reservations, she decided to press on.

As the legend goes, Mulan disguises herself as a man to go to war in place of her elderly father—thereby saving his life. By imperial decree, one man from every family had to serve.

She fights for 12 years on the frontlines. The dance meant to capture her thrilling moments on the battlefield—but more than that, to tap into an internal struggle. The fast-paced battle music gives way to a slower melody, and the audience gets a glimpse of Mulan’s thoughts.

“Throughout the piece, Mulan is simultaneously waging an inner battle,” Katherine explained. “She longs to return home to her father, but she must remain where she is and fight in a bloody war. The irony of her predicament is that she wishes to take care of her father more than anything, but for his sake, she cannot return to him. I feel this dance highlights Mulan’s filial piety and selflessness.”

dancing movement
Katherine does the “kong hou tui” move, which requires holding the back leg high. (Samira Bouaou)

Katherine knew that capturing that emotional complexity was crucial to the success of her performance.

“I generally tend to hold back, and automatically close myself off a bit when standing in front of an audience. Often, I doubt myself,” she said. “And the moment I hesitate, the performance falls to pieces, because I am no longer in character—I am just being my old self.”

To prepare, she repeatedly listened to the music in her free time.

“​​I would sit there with my eyes closed and visualize Mulan’s story playing out in my mind, in sync with the music. I would imagine the battlefield, the war cries, and the hoof beats of galloping horses. When the softer, sadder music began, I would focus more on Mulan’s emotions and the heart-wrenching sorrow of being separated from her father.”

The dance was a success: She won gold.

The following year, her growth became apparent on a grander stage. At NTD’s 10th International Classical Chinese Dance Competition in 2023, she portrayed another great Chinese heroine, Lady Wang Zhaojun, who chose to marry the leader of a northern nomadic tribe to prevent war, leaving behind her beloved homeland and family in an act of selfless sacrifice. For her moving performance, Katherine took home a silver medal.

classical Chinese Dance
Katherine won a silver medal in the junior division at the International Classical Chinese Dance Competition in 2023 for her dance piece portraying Wang Zhaojun, a historical figure in ancient China who married the leader of a nomadic tribe in order to prevent war from breaking out. (Larry Dye)

On the same stage that year, her older sister, Lillian, and younger brother, Adam, won silver and gold in their respective divisions. 

The secret to their triple win? The siblings point to years of honing not only their craft but also their moral character—the true key, they say, to artistic excellence of the highest level and a core tenet of this millennia-old art form.

Based in upstate New York, Shen Yun was established with a mission to revive 5,000 years of true, traditional Chinese culture, a glorious heritage that was nearly destroyed under communist rule. The company’s eight troupes tour internationally each year, and its elite performers hail from around the world—from America, Europe, Asia, and Australia. 

It’s a distinctly Chinese art form, but one that has resonated with people from all walks of life. Whether it be a daughter’s devotion to her father or a patriot’s sacrifice for country, the values portrayed are universal; its power to connect transcends boundaries. 

“Dance is a language without words,” Lillian said.

Foundations of Family and Faith

A uniquely expressive art form, with roots tracing back to martial arts and Chinese opera and theater, classical Chinese dance has the power to depict an endless spectrum of stories and emotions. The Parker siblings were captivated by it from a young age. 

Growing up in multicultural Toronto, Canada, their family made a tradition of seeing Shen Yun when it came to their city each year. 

“We would all get dressed up, and we’d be bouncing in our seats, waiting for the show to start, so excited,” Katherine recalled. “When the curtain opens, it’s just magnificent. It blew our tiny little minds.”

Their parents, Andrew and Christine Parker, signed them up for classical Chinese dance classes when Lillian was 6, Katherine 4 1/2, and Adam 3. 

“They had an interest in cultural dance, and they just loved it,” Andrew said. 

Such early immersion in the arts was part of his and his wife’s vision to “have a traditional lifestyle for the children,” Andrew said. 

“We wanted to fill them with as many wholesome and positive things that we could,” he said.

They sought out traditional values from different cultures, finding inspiration in the moral foundations of both Western and Chinese civilization, what “people in the past used to think of as virtuous, or good.”

“Honor, integrity, loyalty, honesty, good old-fashioned hard work, kindness—these were the things that we wanted to pass on to the children. These are what people traditionally refer to as the God-given values, or maybe in Chinese culture, they’d say the divinely bestowed values,” he said.  “I believe [these values] are what actually make people feel whole and feel good on the inside, not necessarily the modern values that are promoted nowadays.”

An avid student of the classical art of storytelling, Andrew regaled them with tales, one of Adam’s most vivid childhood memories. 

“Some parents might tell their kids stories to entertain them, but whenever [my dad] tells a story, there’s always a moral behind it,” Adam said. 

The whole family enjoyed music, so Andrew would often set his story to a tune—such as one of the “Star Wars” soundtracks—describing the action of a scene as it unfolded to the score. (“He watched the movies so many times, he memorized all the scenes,” Lillian explained.) 

Looking back, Lillian realized how that helped set an early foundation for her dancing career. 

“We’re hearing the storytelling, and the moral of the story, but at the same time, connecting with the emotions in the music … how the music is bringing out the emotion. Now, whenever I listen to music, I’m automatically thinking of dance moves, or a story or a character starts forming,” Lillian said.

Like their parents, the Parker siblings practice the Chinese spiritual discipline of Falun Dafa. Based on the principles of truthfulness, compassion, and tolerance, with an emphasis on refining moral character, the practice fostered a harmonious family life—and set the foundation for a sort of rectitude and grit that would continue to drive the siblings beyond childhood. 

“It’s like the root—it shaped us a lot,” Lillian said.

At home, the siblings nurtured rich, creative lives, too. Aside from the occasional family movie night, their parents kept a screen-free house—no TV, no video games. As a result, the kids were naturally drawn to books, the arts, and other creative activities to fill their time. 

“​​I’m grateful to our parents for that,” Katherine reflected. “A lot of kids are in their own box with this technology, and it can really suck you in. Staying separate from that, we could learn.” 

They devoured books, from “The Lord of the Rings” and “The Chronicles of Narnia” to Nancy Drew and ”The Hardy Boys.” Lillian, an aspiring novelist, wrote stories of her own. They created their own clubs and crafted mailboxes out of cereal boxes to leave at each other’s doors.

Most memorably, they put on an annual Christmas show for a captive audience of parents, grandparents, and stuffed animals, complete with original dance choreography, music, lighting, costumes, tickets, a security guard (5-year-old Adam), and a rotating emcee. It was influenced, no doubt, by the format of a Shen Yun performance.

So while the Parkers had no expectations for their children to pursue Chinese dance professionally, it hardly came as a surprise when they did. When Lillian was 12, after watching the annual Shen Yun performance, there came an opportunity to audition for Fei Tian Academy of the Arts, which teaches classical Chinese dance, the primary art form of Shen Yun. She decided to try out, especially moved by how Shen Yun uses the art form to tell an important story on stage: the modern-day plight of her fellow Falun Dafa adherents in China amidst the brutal persecution of the faith by the ruling communist regime since 1999. Exposing the persecution is something that “no other performing arts companies are doing,” she said, “and that’s very meaningful. That’s not an opportunity you can find elsewhere.”

The family relocated to New York to support Lilian’s studies, and one by one, Katherine and Adam followed in their sister’s footsteps. 

“[Lillian] auditioned at the school and got in, and then [Katherine] did too,” Adam said, so the next step was only natural. “I mean, I had to try out,” he said, smiling. “Everything was preparing me for that moment.”

Dancing in Chinese 

Still, they were unprepared for other aspects, such as the rigors of classical dance training—with challenges understanding what their Chinese-speaking dance teachers were saying. 

Learning the language was just the beginning; trickier was parsing the hidden layers of meaning beneath the surface, due to cultural differences in communication styles and etiquette.

“Westerners are very direct—what I say, that’s what I mean,” Lillian said. Chinese people, on the other hand, place value on self-restraint and thus “always hold something back.” 

The differences spill over into the language of dance. She’s been told by dance teachers that her movements often look “very frank, very ‘Ba-bam! I’m here!’” she said. Classical Chinese dance, however, calls for a sort of restraint, a tension behind each move, a unique feeling built into the principles that underlie and define the art form. A hero character striking a pose facing the audience, for instance, would never hold his shoulders and hips square and stiff, but instead perhaps twist an opposite shoulder and hip toward one another, in a more dynamic stance. Or take the movement of bringing an arm up and over one’s head: Rather than straight and rigid, the movement would be rounded and pulled back at the edges, as if painting a rainbow with a brush, following the art form’s emphasis on roundness. 

“Every part of your body [has] that feeling, … to the point where it’s a look in your eyes,” Lillian said. “That’s what draws in an audience.”

They often lean on each other for support: At weekly “Parker Council” meetings, they swap videos of their practice sessions and advice for improvement. They found that they not only think and feel similarly, but also hit similar roadblocks in dance. One sibling could thus help another translate confusing feedback from a teacher, as Katherine put it with a smile, “into Parker language.”

male classical Chinese dance
Adam performs one of the many technically difficult flips found in classical Chinese dance. (Samira Bouaou)

Universal Values

A crucial component of their training takes place outside the dance studio, in the classroom: Students at Fei Tian study, among other subjects, Chinese history, its rich repertoire of stories and legends, to understand the values that form the foundation of the culture—and inform every movement of the art form. The Parkers found the same universal virtues they’d grown up with in Western culture—faith, loyalty, integrity, kindness—but embedded at a deeper level. 

“China’s had 5,000 years for those values to sink into the Chinese people’s hearts,” Adam said. 

To be able to experience and take part in reviving such a rich heritage is “just so precious,” Katherine said. What struck her most was how firmly so many figures in Chinese history held to their moral convictions.

“They’re going to do the thing that they believe is right, no matter what the consequences are. It’s part of who they are, so they will give up everything for it—even their life. And it wasn’t just one or two people, but the society as a whole,” she said.

On stage, they channel these ancient figures—whether a palace maiden, an imperial scholar, or Mulan on the battlefield. 

“One of the biggest changes for me as an artist was acquiring the ability to really get into character and feel whatever the character would be feeling,” Adam said. “There’s a saying we use in dance: ‘To move the audience, you have to first move yourself.’” 

Imbuing every movement with genuine emotion, “the audience will actually be able to feel it, even if they’re really far away,” he said. 

Being able to convey these values to the audience is key to capturing the essence of classical Chinese dance. Beyond the demanding technical skill required, to truly be a great dancer, “you have to be a good person,” Lillian said. “And then, you have to want to express or share those values through dance.”

Training in Chinese dance, like all the classical arts, inherently shapes dancers into better people, she pointed out, building self-discipline and the ability to persevere through physical and mental hardship. Maintaining the right mindset over the long run, always striving to be better without being discouraged, is one of the hardest parts, Lillian said.

A teacher once gave her a piece of advice that stuck with her: “Don’t be afraid of not being good. Just be afraid of not improving.” She resolved to focus on her potential to improve, on how much better she could get every day, “instead of being afraid of making mistakes.” She reminds herself: “Everything that’s hard is the root of something that will be great later—this is something that is going to make me into a better person or a better dancer. You see it as what it actually is—a tool to help you grow, even though it’s hard to go through.”

The siblings have also internalized lessons from the historical characters they’ve studied and portrayed. After they started their dance training, their father noticed profound changes in their character—most notably, that they had all grown more selfless. 

“They’ve truly benefited from these traditional values and ancient virtues from Chinese culture,” Andrew said, “and because they’ve benefited from it so much, they truly have a sincere wish to share it with others. I think this is one of the main reasons why they can work so hard. … It requires a very noble spirit and a very pure heart; otherwise, you just can’t endure that much rigorous work.”

Lillian sees their art as having a higher purpose. 

“Aristotle believed that one of the reasons people should learn music is to upgrade their moral values. By listening to good music, you’re learning how to enjoy something that is noble and something that is upright, and therefore, you are making yourself a better person,” she said.

Dance, she says, is the same. 

“You should be giving out upright energy; the message you’re sending to the audience should be a positive, upright message,” she said. 

She hopes audience members leave feeling uplifted and inspired to strive for goodness. 

For Katherine, it makes everything worth it in the end. 

“You know you’re doing something that’s just very special,” she said. “Not everybody gets the opportunity to be a part of something so remarkable.”

This article was originally published in American Essence, Vol. 4 Issue 1, Jan.-Feb. Edition.

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Features American Artists Arts & Letters

How Two Brothers Found Their American Dream Through Shen Yun

Brothers Lucas (L) and Jesse Browde at home in Upstate New York. (Samira Bouaou for American Essence)

The count was full, the bases loaded. Jesse Browde stepped out of the batter’s box, took a deep breath, and fixed his eyes on center field, like a hunter finding his mark. While his teammates were making a ruckus in the dugout, an eerie quiet fell over the parents on the bleachers. They were nervous—but curious.

Who was this kid?

Jesse had just moved to town the previous week, and since he was an unknown player in his first game with his new team, the Little League coach had slated him last in the lineup. No one knew what to expect.

He stepped into the batter’s box, tapped home plate, and settled his weight on his back foot. The opposing team’s pitcher was a big, strong kid. The late afternoon sun bore down on the side of his face, forcing him to squint in a way that made him look even more menacing. The next pitch came in fast, and a little high. Jesse stepped in, and with a quick pivot of his hips, he swung the bat. 

Crack!

The moment the ball hit his bat, he knew it: It was a laser to dead center field and cleared the fence by more than 20 feet. His teammates went bonkers, and the hush that had settled over the parents erupted into cheers.

Jesse rounded third base heading for home plate, where the entire team had gathered for the age-old ritual of helmet tapping and bear-hugging reserved only for home runs and walk-offs.

After that day, it didn’t take long for Jesse to settle into his new team. 

Jesse and Lucas grew up with a deep love for baseball, they played for a local Little League team and a travel baseball team. (Courtesy of Levi Browde)

These were happy times for Jesse and his younger brother, Lucas, who also played baseball. Their new school was great. Their baseball coaches were knowledgeable and dedicated. And despite the frequent protests of their Taiwanese mother, who fervently believed in home-cooked meals, their dad would often take them to Shake Shack or Five Guys after games.

Many burgers and fries were eaten.

At the time, Jesse and his brother felt that they were living the American dream. Later, they would come to realize that was only half true.

“As I grew older and learned more about our country’s founding, I came to realize that the American dream is not only about making a great life for oneself and one’s family,” Jesse said. “It’s about helping to build and create things that can be a force for good in the world and shared with others. It’s about giving back.”

For Jesse and Lucas, it wasn’t until years later when they joined the world’s premier classical Chinese dance company—Shen Yun Performing Arts—that they found their calling.

An Unexpected Path

At the Browde home, conversations at the dinner table often delved into American history—a subject the entire family is passionate about. (Samira Bouaou for American Essence)

Their parents, Levi and Vivian Browde, describe their sons’ upbringing as quintessentially American—Little League baseball; Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Fourth of July with family; and discussions about American history around the dinner table. The family pored over biographies of America’s founders, spurred on by the family patriarch—Levi’s father is a professor who specializes in constitutional law.

Dance was never part of the conversation.

That all changed on a trip to New York City, when Jesse and his family saw a performance of Shen Yun Performing Arts at Lincoln Center. Its programs feature classical Chinese dance, a dynamic and expressive art form that’s thousands of years old. What captivated Jesse most, however, was the message of the performance. Drawing upon a wellspring of legends and stories from traditional Chinese culture, Shen Yun performances showcase timeless themes such as loyalty, compassion, resilience, and faith.

“While they take the form of Chinese stories,” Levi said, “these themes are quite universal and not so different from the stories we discuss around the dinner table. The resilience of Washington and his men at Valley Forge, the loyalty of Lafayette, the faith of the pilgrims—these are values that resonate universally.”

For Jesse, the impact was immediate and profound.

“It wasn’t just the choreography or the message that was being conveyed that struck me. It was the passion of the two lead dancers I saw on stage that day,” Jesse said. “I remember very clearly, it was like, ‘That’s what I can do.’” 

The future is bright for these two young dancers. (Samira Bouaou for American Essence)

To the surprise of his parents, Jesse sought out an audition at Fei Tian Academy of the Arts, the preparatory school for Shen Yun’s dancers. He had trained in tumbling and some fundamentals in classical Chinese dance for a few years, but the audition was still a long shot.

“I was conflicted,” Levi said. “I appreciated the kid having a dream, but at the same time, it felt like a quarterback from some backwater Division III school trying out for the New England Patriots. … He had a long way to go.”

Jesse’s mother, Vivian, was more specifically skeptical. She believed her son was too bulky from years of baseball and didn’t seem to have the lithe, flexible physique required for classical Chinese dance, and didn’t mince words in telling him so. “I just said I thought he was too old to start professional dance training—and too chubby,” Vivian said, with a laugh.

His parents weren’t the only skeptics. One of Jesse’s dance instructors initially gave him similar feedback, saying he was likely too old and inflexible to ever become an elite dancer.

But Jesse was determined.

“He had that look in his eye,” Levi recalled, “the same one he used to have in the batter’s box when facing a dominant pitcher. Sometimes he wouldn’t even see the pitcher and just focused on the center field fence—where he wanted to go.”

Left: Jesse in the dance “The Immortal Poet” at the 10th NTD International Classical Chinese Dance Competition.
Right: Lucas took on the role of the famous Chinese general in “Loyalty of Yue Fei” at the same competition. (Larry Dye)

For the next several months, Jesse painstakingly trained his flexibility, constantly pushing his own limits. Sometimes, he recruited his parents to help him stretch or work on strength conditioning. 

“Up until that point, I had never really set my heart on anything in my life before. I never had that drive or passion to push my limits for anything before,” Jesse said.

A little more than a year later, Lucas had his own epiphany while watching Shen Yun. For him, however, it wasn’t due to any one particular dance or story, but rather to the effect the artists created. 

“There’s an energy to it, and you feel it when watching the show,” Lucas said. “It doesn’t just entertain people or even just teach about culture; it inspires morality in people and connects them with the divine. If people walk out of the theater with a new sense of virtuousness and faith, I feel this is the greatest gift you can give to people, and I wanted to be a part of that.”

Practice, Practice, Practice

For the next several years, Jesse and Lucas were not only brothers; they were classmates, training partners, and confidants.

“Classical Chinese dance is not easy,” Lucas said. “With the rigorous training, you really have to develop camaraderie with your classmates to help each other through, and you also learn the importance of staying positive.”

 “On a typical day, we do three hours [of training] in the morning, a full load of academics, and I’m usually with friends in the training room for another three hours at night,” Jesse said. “And that’s only if there are no extra rehearsals. So, a minimum of six hours a day.”

Left: Jesse (L) and Lucas at a playground in New York City, early 2006.
Right: Young Lucas and his grandmother. (Courtesy of Levi Browde)

Despite the rigors of their training, or perhaps because of it, Lucas feels a great satisfaction with his life’s path. 

“Sure, at the end of the day, I’m often physically and mentally weary, sometimes literally crawling into bed. But those times are the most fun and give me the best memories and sense of satisfaction,” he said.

And despite the initial skepticism, years of hard work and an affinity for the millennia-old Chinese art form have paid off for both brothers. After winning a gold medal in the junior division of his academy’s dance competition, in 2020, Jesse was invited to join Shen Yun’s annual tour as part of a student practicum. Lucas, who also won gold in the same dance competition, was able to join his brother a year later.

The brothers’ success in such a short time period, however, is not unusual for Shen Yun’s training program. “It normally takes 10 or more years and a grueling schedule for someone to reach a world-class standard, which is why I was initially skeptical about the boys starting when they did,” Vivian said. “But, I have to admit: Shen Yun proved me wrong. They turned my slow, slightly chubby little baseball players into elite dancers. It’s remarkable.”

According to Levi, the success of Shen Yun’s training program is attributable to factors beyond just hard work and dedicated staff. “There’s a special sauce to the Shen Yun recipe that no one else has,” Levi said. “Shen Yun’s artistic director has infused the entire program with a foundation and know-how that had been essentially lost to history.” As an example, Levi points to the twin techniques of “shen dai shou” (the body leads the hands) and “kua dai tui” (the hips lead the legs). Often cited by international dance competition winners as the key ingredient to their success, Levi said these twin techniques have elevated Shen Yun performance art to a whole new level. “No one was even talking about them, let alone able to do them until Shen Yun burst onto the scene,” he added.

“The boys were very fortunate to find an institution that could take their heartfelt aspirations and provide a way to make them reality,” he said. “They are living their dream, and Shen Yun made it possible.”

Today, Jesse and Lucas—now both adults—share the stage together, traveling the world to perform. Yet, as audiences across the globe marvel at the Chinese art form that they exhibit, few may realize that it’s an American enterprise.

An American Company Showcasing Authentic Chinese Culture

Shen Yun Performing Arts was established in New York in 2006 with a mission to revive China’s 5,000 years of traditional culture.

Within a few years, Shen Yun’s shows were routinely sold out wherever they went. Today, the group has eight companies that tour the world simultaneously, performing in more than 200 cities across five continents each season. With groundbreaking innovations in digital stagecraft, the world’s first orchestra to feature both classical Chinese and Western instruments as permanent members, and storylines that draw from the rich tapestry of China’s 5,000-year history, the company quickly raised the bar on what a group of artists could accomplish.

The response from audiences around the world was immediate, and heartwarming.

 Lucas says one of the most inspiring things for him is watching the short interviews that people give after watching a Shen Yun performance. 

“Although it’s just a performance, you can tell by watching audience reviews that something very different and special happens at a Shen Yun show. It touches people,” he said. 

After seeing Shen Yun this past year, world-renowned author and life coach Tony Robbins said: “The stories are amazing, the execution and the dance is amazing. … I think this is beautiful because it’s keeping [Chinese culture] alive, and it’s sharing it with the world.” 

(Samira Bouaou for American Essence)

Actor and comedian Tim Allen, who also saw Shen Yun recently, concurred, saying, “I loved it … quite wonderful.”

For U.S. Brig. Gen. Hector Lopez, a former wartime chief of staff, seeing Shen Yun was transformative: “It was a very emotional experience. … It was not just entertaining, but at the same time, it has a message. I believe we become better people just by watching and witnessing this.”

But none of this could be done in China today. For decades, the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) has sought to eradicate traditions and impose communist ideology on the people. Because Shen Yun showcases authentic Chinese culture from before the rise of communism, and the CCP views that mission as a threat, the dance company cannot be based in China, nor travel there to perform. For more than a decade, the CCP has pressured theaters and local governments around the world to cancel Shen Yun’s shows.

With no safe haven to nurture authentic Chinese culture at home, elite classical Chinese dancers and musicians have turned their sights on America’s shores to establish Shen Yun.

“At first glance, it may seem strange to have a company here in America whose artistry and cultural foundations are more authentically Chinese than anything you can find in China today,” said Shujia Gong, an associate professor at Fei Tian College. “However, America has long been the place where great ideas grow into great enterprises.

“From the Magna Carta to Locke and Montesquieu, those great ideas unfolded in Europe long before the American Revolution, and yet it was in America where these ideas coalesced into a system of government that inspired freedom and democracy around the world. The Industrial Revolution started in England, and yet it was in America where the automobile, manned flight, as well as computers and the Internet really took off. 

“America was the ‘Great Experiment’ in self-governance, but it has also become the great incubator for industry, culture, and progress in general. So it’s not at all surprising that the world’s premier classical Chinese dance company is an American company.”

That idea isn’t lost on Jesse and Lucas. In fact, it’s a point of pride.

“It’s people from all around the world, America, Korea, Japan, Europe—we are from all over the place,” Lucas said. “People come to America to expand what it is they want to do, to make dreams happen.”

“These artists at Shen Yun are people who want to showcase the truth [of real Chinese culture], and they are from all around the world,” Jesse added.

(Samira Bouaou for American Essence)

A Foundation of Freedom, a Global Reach

With Shen Yun, Jesse and Lucas have traveled around the world, as the company routinely takes to the stage on five continents. This past season, their group ventured into new markets, performing 63 shows in eight European countries, as Shen Yun has become a phenomenon across the Atlantic in recent years.

While the experience has exposed the brothers to a broader range of peoples and cultures, it has also given them a newfound appreciation for America.

Recently, on a rare day off, Jesse and Lucas sat in their living room and reflected on this idea.

 “Being American is about contributing to our country in a way that allows many different opinions and perspectives to flourish,” Jesse said. “I draw strength and inspiration from knowing that I come from a country whose principles dictate that everyone should be treated as human beings blessed with the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, no matter who they are.” 

“For me,” Lucas added, “it’s about embracing the liberty we have here that allows us to not only pursue our own happiness, but also have the freedom to share culture and ideas with others. In a way, it’s about having the strength to spread my wings beyond America’s borders. I feel confident and fulfilled traveling the world, partially because I know my home is in America—and that gives me a sense of a foundation to do so much.”

From Nov. Issue, Volume 3

Categories
Features

The Speed of Sound and Civilization

(Dai Bing)

Li Fan, an expert in baroque and early music, recently returned to playing the modern violin. It was a bigger adjustment than she expected, especially given her dynamic career in violin before taking up early music, and the experience prompted her to consider many things about the change of pace in music, culture, and life over the course of history.

“People [today] don’t have the heart to do a single, slow thing. In this mindset, we’ve lost some of the finer details. There’s a loss of sensitivity in this. We need more volume and power and speed to excite people,” Li said. “Now we need stronger sounds, bigger, brighter, and louder, more virtuosic. … I think this is very interesting.”

In the past few years, her career has in a way come full circle, her artistry deepened by a renewed understanding of tradition and faith.

Fated Encounter

After a decade of performing as a violinist in the orchestras of renowned ballet and opera companies in China, and recording numerous CD, radio, television, and film projects, Li turned her sights on Germany. Wanting to deepen her study of music, she went abroad. In a twist of fate, Li was introduced to early music and embraced it with open arms.

“What began as a fated encounter turned into a mission,” Li said.

Already 30, Li baffled administrators when she applied to German music conservatories. They would tell her that most of their incoming students were a mere 17 years of age and wondered what she was doing among them.

Li was accepted into a school, but was told that there weren’t enough teachers, so she would have to wait a semester before beginning classes. Homesick and tired of waiting, she decided to investigate whether there was some other class she could take.

“The first thing they asked me was how old I was,” Li said. She quipped that they must have found her old because they advised her to go learn old music. She was sent to the ancient music department where, finally, she was told to come back the next week and bring her instrument.

When Li returned, she was introduced to a whole new world of sound.

(Dai Bing)

Ancient Studies

“This instrument came to me, and I accepted it, studied it, understood it, its history and content, and appreciated the beauty of it,” Li said. She delved into not just early music, but also medieval art and culture.

“It’s very close to God—all the arts were about God,” she said.

During her studies in Germany, she took master classes with Ton Koopman, a conductor and renowned musicologist; John Holloway, a baroque violin expert; Anton Steck, a violinist and conductor; and Pedro Memelsdorff, a music director and musicologist specializing in medieval music.

She was a member of the Paradiso ensemble in Frankfurt and collaborated with La Stagione Frankfurt, the Free Dance Theater in Frankfurt, Maurice van Lieshout, Michael Schneider, the Mannheim court orchestra, and the Main Baroque Orchestra.

After graduating from the Frankfurt University of Music and Performing Arts in Germany, Li furthered her postgraduate studies in historical interpretation with Petra Müllejans, the German violinist, conductor, and pedagogue renowned for her work in historical performance practice, and Li later became an assistant instructor for the professor’s master classes.

She also studied medieval and Renaissance music at the Schola Cantorum Brabantiae with Maurice van Lieshout and Rebecca Steward.

Li’s time in Europe was spent performing, in ensembles small and large, playing both old music and new premieres. She recorded a number of new CDs, including an album of Vivaldi’s works with the Capella Academia, and Telemann concertos with La Stagione Music Orchestra. She appeared in recorded live productions such as the DVD of Schauspiel Frankfurt’s 2009 Roter Ritter Parzival (Percival, the Red Knight). She became a founding member of ensembles Aquilla, La Pace, and the Allegris Quartett, touring in both Europe and Asia. Li was selected by the New Frankfurt Philharmonic to share the stage with artists including the beloved Andrea Bocelli and celebrity David Garrett.

“Then, returning to the modern violin—it just looked so fast,” Li said.

Reviving Tradition

Recently, Li accepted a position with the world-renowned Shen Yun Performing Arts. She was interested in both the company’s music and mission. A person of faith herself, she appreciated the fact that New York-based Shen Yun doesn’t shy away from faith and tradition.

“This is a very unique ensemble,” Li said. Though the instruments in Shen Yun’s orchestra are modern, and the music is newly written for each season, the music is traditional in composition from the standpoints of both the East and the West—ancient Chinese music arranged for a Western orchestra.

“We talk about reviving tradition—that’s not an easy thing, and not something you can just say casually. But we have to do it. We are doing it—in a way that is complex, harmonious,” she said. “The music is Chinese, and it’s not just pleasant to listen to, but also meaningful. It gives you a lot to think about. There is a story. … There is deeper meaning and a touch of the divine.”

In this space, Li felt she could take all the experiences gained in her life—the years spent playing music she felt was closest to God, the traditional Chinese culture she was steeped in during her upbringing—to fruition. In encountering Shen Yun, she gained a sense of mission.

“‘Reviving traditional culture,’ this phrase is something I think about all the time now, and it’s close to my heart. I’ve lived with early music for so many years in my career, and my upbringing was that of traditional culture,” Li said. “I felt I could really purely and simply focus on this mission.”

By this point in Li’s career, early music fit like a glove—a worn and comfortable one. She didn’t need to take up the modern violin again, whose metal strings and modern bow were sonic worlds apart from Li’s comfort zone. But Shen Yun’s mission so moved Li that she threw herself into practicing the violin again so as to achieve the level of world-class excellence required of the group’s artists.

During those first few months, Li felt like she was existing in a pressure cooker. But it was also a time that brought her a new understanding of faith, spirituality, and her art.

“I thought I had faith before—but it is truly strong now,” Li said.

(Dai Bing)

From Pressure, Diamonds

In encountering Shen Yun, Li also gained a renewed sense of faith.

Many of the artists in Shen Yun practice Falun Gong, also known as Falun Dafa, as the founding artists had formed the company with a culture of truthfulness, compassion, and forbearance—the three principles of the practice. It’s a spiritual, self-cultivation discipline that also includes five meditative exercises, including a sitting meditation.

So when Li met a member of Shen Yun for the first time, the idea that she could take up this spiritual discipline for herself was planted. In truth, Li’s husband also practiced Falun Gong, but in more than a decade of marriage, it wasn’t something Li had been interested in. His faith was his personal matter.

“For that first year or two, I did nothing but practice. But then I remember one day, I came in early, and before practice, I decided to meditate first,” Li said.

“Finally, I had some peace. And for some reason, the tears just came pouring out,” Li said. It was a turning point for Li’s resolve—in her mission, and her faith. And as she resolved to live her life by the principles of truthfulness, compassion, and forbearance, she gained a deeper understanding of art and music as well.

“Shen Yun evokes kindness in people. It prompts one to think about higher things, about what is true compassion and benevolence,” Li said. “True beauty and true goodness change hearts and minds.”

After a particular performance in Spain, Li remembered comments from an elderly woman who had been in the audience with her daughter. The woman’s husband had been a musician as well, and she was deeply moved by the music of the performance and spoke fervently to Li about the spirit of what they experienced.

“‘It was like we had given humanity a direction’—audiences will say things like this. They feel like they’ve obtained something greater than sensory enjoyment, but something that was positive for their spirit, that through cultivation of one’s character, one can have a better future,” Li said. “Of course, I’ve seen audiences who were moved before—but not like this.”

Li believes the art Shen Yun brings to audiences is the best, not because of the skills each member possesses, but because of the spirit they deliver to each and every viewer. Traditional culture is divinely inspired culture, and “what we’re bringing people is from from the divine, and that’s why it is the best,” she said.

From March Issue, Volume 3

Categories
Features

World-Class Performer Steven Wang on Discovering the Power of Dance in America

Wang performs the Tibetan dance piece “Khata for the Gods,” from Shen Yun’s 2012 program. (Courtesy of Shen Yun Performing Arts)

It had been a few months since Steven Wang last spoke to his parents, located halfway across the world in China. He knew that every time he phoned, the Chinese authorities would be listening in via wiretapping, so he avoided calling too often.

He started by asking simple questions, the way he always did. In these conversations, Wang couldn’t really share with his parents about his new life in America or about his recent experiences performing as a principal dancer at world-renowned theaters. The information could become ammunition for the Chinese regime, which keeps a watchful eye on those like Wang and his family who have been labeled enemies of the state because of their faith.

Wang’s mother and father have been repeatedly arrested and have spent intermittent time in jail because of their belief in a meditation practice called Falun Dafa, a self-cultivation discipline with meditative exercises and moral teachings based on the principles of truthfulness, compassion, and tolerance. In 1999, the Chinese communist regime outlawed the practice amid the movement’s rapidly growing popularity. Across the country, hundreds of thousands were rounded up and detained, often tortured while imprisoned.

On a fateful day in November 2009, Wang’s mother told him that his father had passed away. After his last imprisonment in 2003, his health drastically deteriorated—no doubt due to torture. He died of kidney failure in September 2009. “That day, I hid inside an empty warehouse and cried by myself for a long time,” Wang said. He regretted not being able to see his father one last time.

Wang began dance training at 9 years old. (Courtesy of Steven Wang)

But Wang knew he had a greater mission at stake: In the land of freedom, he would tell the stories of millions like his parents who still face persecutionand possibly mortal danger because of their refusal to give up their faith. Through the language of dance, Wang would convey the resilience and courage that many Falun Dafa adherents embody.

“I would think, when my father was in prison, did he experience similar torture? I imagined how a practitioner, or my father, would endure such suffering.” He would then try to display that suffering onstage.

Most recently, Wang learned that his mother was detained on July 7, 2022, at the Changsha No. 4 Women’s Detention Center, likely for distributing pamphlets about Falun Dafa, according to the Falun Dafa Information Center, which tracks persecution cases.

Wang is pictured with his mother and two sisters. (Courtesy of Steven Wang)

Wang later came to the realization that he also faced a form of persecution: the burden of uncertainty, invisible pressure, and the suffering of his loved ones. He would try to channel the emotions he felt via dance. “I hope people will understand the truth,” he said.

A Deeper Meaning Behind Dance

Wang was intrigued by dance at a young age. He grew up in Hunan Province, a place known for producing top-level gymnastics athletes. But training in gymnastics was grueling, and somehow, young Wang had a gut feeling that the sport was not for him. In 1996, when he was about 9 years old, Wang told his parents he wanted to give dance a try. His father brought him to a local arts center. When he saw the group of young classmates in their dance outfits, he felt it was the right place. Wang excelled in his class and eventually got accepted into a professional dance academy in Chongqing City—hundreds of miles away—for secondary school.

Shortly after he started dancing, Wang’s parents began practicing Falun Dafa. The practice had spread quickly across the country, with nearly 100 million adherents by the late 1990s. Wang noticed a change in his parents: They were no longer arguing the way they used to, and his father’s diabetes symptoms had disappeared.

In July 1999, the communist regime initiated its persecution campaign against Falun Dafa. Wang was too young to fully comprehend it and was far away from home. But he knew that people like his parents were being arrested and jailed because of their faith. During the  2001 Lunar New Year holiday, Wang’s parents were both arrested. He and his three elder sisters were left at home alone. “We were like orphans,” he recalled.

Seeing that the children had no one to take care of them, Wang’s aunt and uncle stayed with them for the holiday. “They pitied us and decided not to go back to their hometowns for [Lunar] New Year and stayed with us. It left a deep impression on me. I felt for the first time that our family wasn’t whole,” Wang said.

Later that year, Wang and his sisters visited their father in prison. The elder Wang was seated behind a clear barricade as guards watched intently behind him. Detainees were not allowed to talk; they could only write down messages to their visitors on a chalkboard. “He looked like skin covering bones. He looked very weak.” It was a memory Wang would never forget.

At boarding school, he was shielded from the realities of the Chinese regime’s persecution. Meanwhile, his mother and father tried to evade being arrested again. In 2008, while Wang was enrolled at a dance college in Chongqing, his mother found out about Shen Yun Performing Arts, a burgeoning performing arts company centered on an ancient art form called classical Chinese dance. Classical Chinese dance—with its unique gestures, postures, and movements—has been passed down through the ages. Its roots trace back to the imperial courts and theatrical performances of ancient China. Shen Yun, based in upstate New York, seeks to revive traditional Chinese culture through dance and music. Wang had already been learning similar dance techniques in China, and his mother encouraged him to apply for an opportunity to train and study abroad with Shen Yun.

Wang competes inthe 2010 NTD International Classical Chinese Dance Competition, portraying a knight who must decide how to use his sword skills nobly. (Courtesy of Shen Yun Performing Arts)

Wang was accepted. Everything went smoothly for his trip to America. It was here that he understood the true meaning of his craft. In China, nearly everyone kept their minds focused on getting ahead. “In that society, you’re thinking about how to get a good job after graduating, to find a good job and a good salary,” Wang said. He didn’t think beyond graduating from college, getting a steady salary as a dance instructor at a school, and then making extra money by offering private lessons.

He hadn’t considered the greater significance of what dance could be. “I didn’t have a concept about what classical Chinese dance really is until I entered Shen Yun,” he said. Through the stories of legendary heroes and men of great virtue from Chinese history, Wang learned what true kindness, humility, and trustworthiness mean. He learned that personal cultivation is critical to improving one’s technical skill: “I had to be very humble. I had to be able to accept criticism, no matter where it came from.”

In China, where the communist regime has instilled atheism throughout society, “when they teach you history, they talk about how each dynasty did things incorrectly, what mistakes they made.” “They wouldn’t tell you about the good things,” Wang said. That affected the dance training. “The more negative things you learn, the dancing also becomes more negative, dark.”

Shen Yun artists have the creative freedom to explore the beauty of age-old traditions, the positive moral lessons passed down through generations, Wang said. “I realized that the traditional things are cleaner, more beautiful, and have more flavor. My attitude was full of diligence and positivity.”

There were long days and nights spent rehearsing and refining his skills. He also sustained a knee injury. But he knew that self-discipline was the key to improvement. “I only had the thought of changing myself. I didn’t feel tired. I felt my life was very enriching every day.”

Portraying the Truth

Since the winter of 2008, Wang has toured around the world with Shen Yun in more than 1,000 performances. As principal dancer, he has portrayed the main character in several pieces that depict the modern-day plight of Falun Dafa practitioners in China.

During the 2010–2011 season, in a number called “The Opening of Heaven’s Gates,” Wang portrayed a practitioner who goes to Tiananmen Square in Beijing to let the public know that Falun Dafa is an upright practice. Police officers quickly charge in and tear away the banner he holds (it reads “Falun Dafa is Good”), beating him unconscious. The adherent’s steadfast faith moves celestial beings who use their powers to revive him. Those who witness the miracle praise the immense compassion displayed by the celestial beings. Inspired by divine blessings, Wang’s character expresses courage and elation.

In 2017, Wang portrayed a father who tries to protect his young infant from the Chinese policemen’s angry blows. “At the time, I tried to think from my father’s perspective: To protect my family, what would he do?”

(Daniel Ulrich for American Essence)

Wang is grateful that his new home country cherishes the freedom that is so wantonly trampled on in China. “Here in the U.S., I can choose my belief and follow any spiritual practice without having to fear that I might be persecuted,” he said.

He also feels honored that through playing historical Chinese figures, he can exhibit virtuous qualities that people can learn from today. “These are universally recognized. Respect and believe in the divine. Be sincere toward people. Be humble. Practice kindness and love. Be passionate in your work, and be bright and optimistic.” Such values have been eroded in China by the communist regime, but Wang hopes to have the chance to change that: “As a proud American citizen, I hope that one day, when the Chinese Communist Party falls, we can perform in China and bring back all the traditional values that used to be part of the Chinese people.”

This article was originally published in American Essence magazine.