In some of Lico’s videos that I initially came across, despite the absence of master editing, far from being the epitome of polished, high-budget video production, there was an undeniable raw, for the lack of a better word, authenticity, that shone through. Amidst this imperfect canvas, Lico’s body was moving in such a captivating manner that I’ve not seen anyone else do before, such a delicate contrast, exquisite yet powerful, nonchalant yet brimming with grace, effortlessly sublime, and technically brilliant — from the tips of her fingers to the ends of her toes, every gesture, every undulation, every collapse, it was as if her dance was not about dance at all, instead it’s a statement, a form of eloquence communicated through the language of her movements, and boy they compel your attention.
The intriguing aspects of my experience was further enhanced by the juxtaposition of cultural elements, the whole thing was so, I know, ‘Oriental’ is a word that one should probably not use in today’s world, but in the eyes of someone like me who was born in the East and raised in the West, there was a faint echo of what some might label as ‘Oriental’ aesthetics — there’s quite a bit of that Crouching Tiger-ness to the whole thing, on one hand, it evokes images of the East that’s steeped in mystique and tradition, while on the other, it seamlessly coexists with the unmistaken modernity of our times. It’s as if the statement that Lico is conveying does not adhere to any specific tradition or era. Instead, it stands as a testament to the timeless nature of artistic expression, serving as a powerful reminder that the beauty of art lies in its ability to transcend labels and boundaries, effortlessly bridging any divides. This connection feels innate, striking a deep chord.
My first conversation with the dancer took place back in October 2022 via an online call, during which I discovered that Lico originally came from a Chinese ethnic folk dance background. It was only after her university graduation that she began exploring the field of contemporary dance. We conducted our first interview session two months later, while she was in Beijing preparing for a role in a massive dance production.
The entire interview is structured into three chapters. In the opening segment below, we dived into Lico’s past, how she transformed into a fuller dancer moving from childhood to adulthood. The second chapter largely revolves around the art of dance, while the third and final chapter delves into the physical and mental dimensions of being a dancer, accompanied by an epilogue in addition where it captures our conversation during Lico’s visit to Paris in March 2023, marking her first overseas trip since the pandemic lockdown.
Prologue 序
Axel Wang：Lico 你们那现在疫情怎么样了？
Lico, how is the current situation with the pandemic over there?
Kehua Li (Lico)：不咋地啊。
Not so great to be honest.
AW：感觉很多人突然间都感染了。
Like out of nowhere people just starting to get infected.
KL：嗯，可能阴的没剩几个了。你那边还好吗？
Yeah, probably all of them by now. How are things at your end?
AW：我们这边基本上跟没有疫情差不多了。当然大家还是会戴着口罩，但各方面都没有什么限制，就一切都回归正常了吧。
I would say it’s pretty much back to normal now, of course people still put on a mask but there aren’t that many restrictions.
KL：也是经过了一个过程，一个阶段对吧？
Must have gone through a certain phase right?
AW：2020年夏天那时也有封城过一阵子。
There was a brief period of lockdown back in the summer of 2020.
KL：国内现在是刚刚放开，所以还是得经历一个阶段。其实我现在在北京呆的这个房子里，能听到隔壁大爷或者大妈在咳嗽，每天也能听到他们跟朋友打电话聊天，聊症状什么的。因为我自己现在也感染了，已经快好了但也还有些咳。虽然有点儿不太好，但偶尔能听到隔壁在聊天，感觉自己好像也不是那么孤单，像是有人跟你说话一样。
China has only just started to open up so it probably will take a while. In this house in Beijing that I’m staying right now, I could hear some old folks coughing next door, and speaking on the phone about their symptoms or whatnot. Because I’m infected as well, though almost recovered, there’s still quite a bit of coughing. I know it’s not nice to eavesdrop, but occasionally overhearing the neighbours’ conversations makes me feel like I’m not alone, like someone’s talking to me you know.
AW：你现在是在隔离的期间吗？
You are in quarantine right now?
KL：对，我已经两个星期没有出去工作过了。因为大部分的人都陆续感染了，整个团队都受到了影响，排练也就暂停了，可能下一周会恢复工作。
Yes, and I haven’t been out and about for like two weeks already. Nearly the entire team has caught the virus, rehearsals have to be suspended. Hopefully we can resume work next week.
Yesterday, When I Was Young 昨日当我年轻时
Axel Wang：首先非常感谢可华在生病期间能抽时间进行这次访问。我在查资料的时候看到说你大概是从三，四岁就接触舞蹈了。很多小孩在这个岁数可能都还在数星星什么的。关于舞蹈，你最早的记忆是什么呢？
First of all Lico, thank you so much for taking the time to do this despite being ill, it’s genuinely appreciated. While researching, I read that you started dancing at around the age of 3 or 4, it’s pretty incredible because I imagine many kids at that age are probably still busy counting stars or something. What is your earliest memory of dancing?
Kehua (Lico) Li：我大概在三岁半到四岁之间，去了老家的一个舞蹈中心，拜访了老师，告诉她我想学跳舞。我记得老师当时说我太小了，问我会什么。我回答说我会扳腿，然后我把腿一下就扳到了头顶上，老师可能也有点吓到了。
I remember when I was around half 3, I visited a dance teacher in a community centre in my hometown and told her that I wanted to learn dancing. She wasn’t really sure what I could do since I was so young, then I pulled my leg up above my head, quite effortlessly, she was a bit startled!
AW：为什么在那个岁数会想学舞蹈呢？
Why did you want to learn dancing, especially at that age?
KL：我从小就很喜欢运动，运动细胞比较发达。小时候喜欢玩乒乓球、游泳、蹦床等，可以废寝忘食地玩整天。包括自行车、滑旱冰、踢毽子、跳绳等，我都非常非常快就能掌握。当时我爸问要不要考虑去体操队， 但转念一想体操队特别苦。反正学跳舞就是多一个爱好，家里也没有反对，就当去玩儿，没想到一坚持就坚持了那么久。
I mean, I loved all kinds of sports since young, table tennis, swimming, trampoline, cycling, rollerblading, shuttlecock, skipping, you name it, I excelled, I was a natural when it came to sports. My dad was considering sending me to gymnastics but then just thought it’s going to be extremely tough for a kid at that age. Initially dance was just another hobby like the rest, and my family was okay with it, little did I know right, I’m still dancing to this day surprisingly.
“Sometimes, when you lose, you gain something far greater.”
AW：你在大学时主修的是民族民间舞表演。说起民族舞的话，可能也是刻板印象，我个人可能首先会想到水袖之类的，它跟现代舞是一套不太一样的动作和表情语言，两者的差距在我们外行看来也非常大。你毕业后为什么会选择了雷动天下现代舞团而不是，例如中国东方演艺集团呢？
You majored in ethnic folk dance back in university. Speaking of Chinese folk dance, it’s probably just stereotype but personally, I would think of stuff like water sleeves before anything. Folk dance typically consists of choreographies of movements and expressions that differ so vastly comparing with contemporary dance for an outsider like me. After you graduated, why is it that you joined BeijingDance / LDTX1, a contemporary dance group instead of say, something more traditional?
KL：这是个特别好的问题，可能得花点时间从前面开始讲。我小时候先是舞蹈爱好班，初中就考到了专业院校学舞蹈。也是在那段期间接触了中国舞，这是一个类别非常广泛的舞蹈门类。中专时期是属于非常注重个人身体素质开发的一个阶段，我的基本功是很好的，包括柔韧度等，但对于跳舞本身来说，我的理解非常浅显单一，可能只有笑或不笑，感动投入或者面无表情。之后考上中央民族大学学民族舞，也是一段很奇特的经历。首先民族舞需要非常丰富的情感，需要有很强的共情性，并且要了解不同民族的历史背景，文化，还有生活习性等，你才能明白你为什么要这么跳，才能够抓住这个民族的特点去跳他们的舞蹈。但这些所有对那时的我来说都一概不知。我大学考学的剧目是一部古典舞叫《休诉》，是非常中国古典传统的一种表达方式，并且是远超我15岁年龄段的一部舞剧。当时就带着懵懵懂懂的状态，学了这个舞蹈后去考了中央民族大学，很幸运被录取了。前期的故事大概就是这样。
当时我既报考了上海戏剧学院舞蹈学院的古典舞，也考了最渴望上的北京舞蹈学院，但很遗憾都没考上。最后为什么会选择了一个自己非常不明白的民族舞专业可能也跟我出生地域有关吧。我的成长环境比较传统，中央民族大学离家比较近，家里人也放心一些。加上那时去了一次上海，很不习惯当地饭菜的口味（笑），既然这样索性就去学民族舞吧。
我印象很深刻的一件事情是，我去考北京舞蹈学院的时候看到落榜了，站在榜前就开始流泪。当时我爸告诉我说，姑娘你得不到你想要的，你会得到更好的。我始终记得这句话。很多的时候，并不是你想拥有的东西就一定能够得到，就算得到了，它也不一定是最好的，可能只是一个当下的执念，一个欲望，仅此而已。刚上大学开始学民族舞时，我仍然是处于一个懵懂状态，从啥也不知道，到逐渐喜欢这个艺术门类，开始对各个民族之间的故事和文化背景感兴趣，身边多了不同民族的同学，对每个个体开始产生新的认知。之后民大毕业，我也不知道什么样的职业方向对我来说是正确的，在老师的建议下，尝试报考了陶身体剧场和雷动天下这两个现代舞团。为什么要说这个是因为，有的时候往往你想要去做的事，不一定能够如你所愿，拥有它。
That’s a great question actually, I might have to go back and tell it from the beginning… When I was young, it was more of a dance hobby class right, then afterwards I was admitted to a dance technical school. It was during that period when I first came into contact with Chinese dance, which is a rather broad term and it consists of all sorts of genres. It was a phase where a huge emphasis was placed on developing individual’s physical attributes, and my basic skills and techniques like my flexibility and etc., were actually pretty good, on the other hand when it came to dancing itself, my understanding was relatively shallow and limited, like only knowing how to respond with a smile, be emotionally affected, or remain expressionless and whatnot.
Later, I enrolled at Minzu University of China to study folk dance, that was quite a journey too. Folk dance is a particular art form that demands a rich range of emotions and a strong sense of empathy. You must understand the historical background, culture, and lifestyle of the ethnic groups in order to comprehend why and how to dance. However, at that time, I was completely unaware of all these nuances and complexities. The entrance exam for university that I undertook was a classical dance performance called Xiu Su2 which was a very traditional Chinese form of expression and far beyond what one would expect from someone in their teenage years. I went for it under a state of confusion and naivety, and fortunately — I didn’t really know how — I passed!
Back then, I also applied for both the classical dance program at the Shanghai Theatre Academy and the highly coveted Beijing Dance Academy, but none of it worked out. In the end, the reason I chose folk dance, in hindsight, was perhaps influenced by my birthplace and background. Growing up in a more conservative environment, Minzu University was closer to home, and my family felt more at ease with this choice. I remember when I visited Shanghai, I didn’t quite enjoy the local food (laughs). So yeah, it just seemed like all circumstances led me to the path of folk dance eventually.
There was one particular moment that left a lasting imprint on me, it was the day I saw my name absent from the list of candidates who were successfully accepted by Beijing Dance Academy. I was overwhelmed with disappointment, tears welled up as I stood there. It was then that my father shared a comforting insight, saying, “Sometimes, when you lose, you gain something far greater.” Those words have stayed with me ever since.
It’s often the case that the things we yearn for are not guaranteed, and even if we attain them, they may not be the pinnacle of fulfilment. They can merely be transient fixations or fleeting desires, nothing more. As I embarked on my journey through university and starting to learn folk dance, I was initially naive and clueless but gradually, a fascination for this art form took root within me. I started to develop a genuine interest in the captivating stories and cultural tapestries woven by different ethnic groups. Surrounded by classmates from diverse backgrounds, I began to perceive individuals in a whole new light. Upon graduating from university, I found myself in a conundrum once more, uncertain about the right career path to pursue. At that juncture, my tutor recommended me to go for an audition at TAO Dance Theater3 and LDTX respectively, two renowned modern dance companies. I’m saying this because sometimes in life, there are moments when our aspirations may simply elude us.
AW：其实我们第一次聊天的时候我有想为什么你没有加入陶身体。不能完全说是表演风格，可能说审美比较恰当，整个氛围调调，我感觉挺吻合的。
I was going to ask why you didn’t join TAO when we spoke for the first time. It wasn’t exactly about the style of the dance, but more like the aesthetic or the vibe I guess, I thought you guys were a great match.
KL：我当时是特别想加入陶身体的，记得他们愿意给我实习机会的时候我特别开心，就像你说的，我确实觉得我很适合他们舞团。毕业后，在我的专业导师敖登格日勒推荐下，我偶然接到了内蒙一部大舞剧的主演角色，编舞师恰好是雷动天下的建团演员。我当时向他简单诉说了我刚毕业的情况，对前景非常迷茫，不知道应该朝哪个方向迈进。他当下给了我一个答案：“一个好的演员必须长成你自己的样子。”
这句话我也记得特别清楚。这位前辈的看法是，加入陶身体，舞者会成为一个很棒的陶身体的演员，很会运用陶身体的方式去运动身体，他们会手把手地教，让舞者在短时间内飞速成长，但是同样会在身体上留下很深很深的印记。另外一条路则是，通过接触非常多不同的编舞，体验各种不同的运动方式，依靠平台的支撑去完成自己的作品，逐步成长为内心想要长成的舞者和人。听了他的话后我考虑了很久，最终选择了雷动天下。
I definitely considered a great deal about joining TAO, when they offered me an internship opportunity I was over the moon really, like you said I just thought I would fit in quite nicely. After I graduated, under the referral of my university tutor Aodeng Gerile, I coincidentally received a leading role in a major dance production in Inner Mongolia, where the choreographer happened to be a founding member of LDTX. At that time, I briefly shared with him my post-graduation situation and how unsure, perplexed I was about my future direction.
What he said stuck with me: “A good dancer must stay true and grow into your own self.” I remember those words like it was yesterday. He believed that if I joined TAO, I could become an amazing TAO dancer, mastering their unique style of movement, they would guide me hand-in-hand, helping me grow, but at the same time it would also leave a long-lasting impact on my body. Alternatively, I could explore different choreographies, experience various movement styles, and create my own works, progressively becoming the dancer and the person I aspire to be. After pondering over his advice for some time, I made up my mind and eventually joined LDTX.
|
|
|
|
AW：从民族舞到现代舞的这个转变，在外人看来不是一般的大。这个转变对你来说是件得心应手的事情么？
From folk dance to contemporary dance, once again the transition seems huge for an outsider. How well did you handle it?
KL：极其不得心应手，并且是接近崩溃的状态，对自己极度怀疑，觉得大学四年都白读了。因为民族舞和现代舞的出发点和概念是完全不一样的。我印象很深的是刚进团时我的老师马波说民族舞强调的更多是情绪，民族舞演员有很好的共情性，情感是非常饱满和有张力的，相反现代舞要求演员通过肢体语言去表达所有想法，反观我跳舞时的情感全部都放在脸上，在这个拧巴的过程里花了很长很长一段时间去适应。
在我刚进团的时候，恰好遇到了一名同事叫胡沈员，他是比我大一届的大学师哥同时也是一位非常优秀的舞蹈家和当代艺术家。他在大学时是民间舞系的民间舞教育专业，我印象中那时他已经开始接触现代舞的编创了，在大学的整体氛围里，是显得有些格格不入的，因为大家的重心毕竟还是放在民族舞，但是相反他每天都在训练自己的肌肉，在练芭蕾，用现代舞的一些思想去挖掘自己身上的独特性，并且在大四的时候他就加入雷动天下了。
那段时间我每天都处在崩溃的边缘，有一天午饭休息的时候沈员看我情绪特别紧绷，现在回想起来我也很感谢他当时和我说的话。他当时劝我不要着急，才进团一个月，这么短的时间内任何人都不会转眼蜕变成一位伟大的艺术家。他劝我给自己多一点时间，不要放弃，等过一段时间后，再来重新审视一下自己，如果还是无法适应，那再考虑新的选择。
听了沈员的话后我也就没有再顾虑那么多。自我调整的这个过程大概持续了一年左右的时间，同时听到支持鼓励的声音开始逐渐变多，责备的声音开始减少，每天都能感觉自己似乎又进步了那么一点儿。那个时候的自我认知还是建立在别人对你的肯定上。
Oh it was a disaster when I first began. I felt nothing but self-doubt, that my four years at university had completely gone to waste. The ideas of folk dance and contemporary dance are like two different planets in the dance universe, speaking different languages and following completely different rules. When I first joined the troupe, my instructor Ma Bo put it in perspective for me, he said that folk dance is like a passionate, emotional rollercoaster ride, the dancers pour their hearts out in expressing the culture of a community. On the flip side, contemporary dance demands dancers to express their inner thoughts and emotions through every fibre of their being. It wasn’t easy, trying to navigate this shift, it felt like learning to swim in two separate oceans.
There’s a story from my early days at LDTX. I happened to cross paths with someone named Shenyuan Hu4, who’s my senior at university, an amazing dancer and contemporary artist. Back then, despite that we both had the same major in folk dance, he was already teasing with the ideas of contemporary dance choreography, differ from most students, he was sculpting his body and practising ballet in order to uncover his own artistic individuality and what lay beyond the planet of folk dance. By the time he reached his final year, he had even joined LDTX already.
During that period, I felt like I was constantly teetering on the edge of a breakdown. One day, during lunch break, Shenyuan noticed how tightly wound I was. Looking back, I’m incredibly grateful for his words of compassion, he told me to just chill, and reminded me that it had only been a month since I joined. “No one morphs into a brilliant artist overnight,” he said. Shenyuan urged me to be patient and to keep going for as long as I could, only to reevaluate later on and see if I was still struggling to adapt. Those words resonated deeply with me and seriously helped ease my worries.
After hearing Shenyuan’s advice, I began to loosen up a bit. It took about a year to find my own rhythm and embrace the challenges that contemporary dance brought to me. Bit by bit, I started hearing more supportive and encouraging voices while the critical ones faded. And with each passing day, I felt like I was making small but meaningful progress.
AW：我猜很多刚开始认识你的人都会问到这个，以一个世俗一点的眼光去看，雷动算是一间大公司了，是什么促使你在这所大公司工作了六年后，毅然辞职去游历各国了呢？
I imagine people asking you this a lot, LDTX is like a massive company in the Chinese dance industry, what prompted you to quit the job after six years working there and go on an adventure?
KL：在一个环境里边呆得太久了，会觉得非常的安逸。人总归是这样子，你在不熟悉的环境里面感到恐惧感到害怕，感到焦虑，觉得自己的能量很单薄，对自己产生怀疑。但当这个恐惧被你征服之后，你又会开始觉得无聊，想要挑战新的事物。可能我还处在人生的这个阶段中，我没办法特别平静地去，只是生活。在雷动六年的时间对我来说已经足够对一个地方产生熟悉感，我想要跳出这个舒适区，去接触新的环境。
It was comfortable to be honest, almost too comfortable for me, being in the same environment for such a long period of time. That’s just how we all are right? Once you venture outside of your comfort zone, you feel fear, anxious, and self-doubting too. But once you conquer those, inevitably a sense of boredom sets in, fuelling a craving for new challenges. Perhaps I’m still in this phase of life where I can’t just stay still and live so contentedly. I just felt that after six years at LDTX, it was more than enough for me to become familiar with my surroundings and I wanted to get out of this zone, and explore new, unknown territories.
AW：你觉得在这次稍不到一年的游历期间，有什么全新的感受么？
Did you gain any new insights during or after your travel?
KL：直到出国后，我才知道西方人对中国的东西有多么的好奇，我才意识到中国文化本身独树一帜的地方。当你身在其中，每天接触到的东西都感觉很理所当然，但是当你离开这个土壤，去到其他地方的时候，你体验到了差异，感受到了思维逻辑的不一样，语言构成的不一样，生活习惯的不一样，正因为体会到了差异，才意识到自己的独特。很多在你看来习以为常的事情，在别人眼里反而异常珍贵。
我在旅游时最经常去问别人的就是，你为什么觉得我跳舞很特别。我不知道为什么我某一个舞蹈视频的点击率会那么高，因为我觉得国内有数不清的优秀舞者，他们有很棒的身体，很强的爆发力，很多能力甚至都是我没有的。我也不知道大家口中的“gorgeous”，“outstanding”这类感叹是怎么产生的。一路下来，我得到的答案，始终是独特性。当时的我并没法完全理解，这种‘不同’是如何生成的。
回想一下，出国的这段经历距离现在似乎已经过去很久了。当我2020年再次回到国内，停留了那么长的时间，并与许多国内的舞者合作后，我似乎慢慢能意识到这个‘不同’在哪里，它是建立在共通性之上的独立性，是你在这个看起来大概都相似的氛围里，大家都跳着差不多的东西的时候，你涌动出来的独特性。它是建立在非常独立的思考之下，固有的价值观之上。我们每个人都是在一路摒弃，逐步累积经验，我们所学的一切只是筑建了一个底层，如何往上累出不一样的高度取决于你怎样去生活，经历和应对。面对已知与未知，你的心态该如何转换。还有我们接触到的各种人和事，种种的一切都构成了我们每个人的价值观，世界观以及意识形态认知，从而产生了独特性。
国内很多舞者，尤其在独立舞者身上，我都能够看到他们更加独立自主的观念，非常开放和包容的心态，以及他们身上比较坚韧，随时可调整，以及时刻在提醒自己要变化的状态。可能相比之下，在舞团里的舞者会稍微安逸一些。比如说，在中国较主流的舞团内工作的舞者们，他们接触的东西，每天经历的变化并不是那么多，生活条件可能更加优渥，心态也相对平和，因为我也经历过，那时的我棱角性可能就没有那么强。所以在跟他们工作的时候，我看到的是一个很好的执行者，可以很快地接受，执行，最后完成要求。这样的舞者很多。但是当你要再往上一层，当你把舞蹈看成一门艺术的时候，需要的可能就不单只是被动地执行任务了，而是你得主动去创造些什么。当然也不是说所有人都要去做一个艺术家嘛，都取决于个人想成长为什么样子。
You know, it wasn’t until I left my home soil and set foot on foreign lands that I truly grasped how fascinated Westerners are with everything Chinese. It dawned on me that our culture has this unique charm, yet when you’re immersed in it every day, it all seems so ordinary, only when stepping outside unveils a whole new world of contrasts — distinctive ways of thinking, diverse language constructs, and even everyday habits. It’s through these disparities that I realised my own distinctiveness. Things I took for granted suddenly became treasured gems in the eyes of others.
During my travels, I asked people this a lot, “What is it that you think sets my dance apart?” I couldn’t fathom the reasons why, say, one of my dance videos would rack up so many views. After all, there are countless exceptional dancers back home with incredible physical skills, explosive power, and some abilities I can only dream of. I just couldn’t get how people could describe some of my moves as “gorgeous” or “outstanding.” Along the way, I discovered that the answer to my question always lies in uniqueness, but at the time, I couldn’t fully comprehend how this ‘difference’ or ‘uniqueness’ came to be.
Reflecting on my journey abroad, it feels like forever ago. After I returned to China in 2020 and collaborated with many local dancers, I slowly began to grasp where that ‘difference’ resided. It rests upon individuality built upon a foundation of shared experiences — amid an environment that may seem homogenous, where everyone is dancing to a similar tune, your uniqueness surges forth — it emerges from critical and autonomous thinking. Each of us sheds layers and accumulates experience as life progresses, everything we learn merely forms this foundation, while the height we reach ultimately depends on how we experience, adapt, and in turn respond, it’s about shifting our mindset when facing the known and the unknown. All these encounters and experiences would all gradually shape our values, perspectives, and ideological consciousness, resulting in an individual’s distinctiveness.
Many dancers in China, especially the independent ones, possess a strong sense of autonomy, an open and inclusive mindset, resilience and adaptability. On the other hand, dancers in mainstream dance companies may tend to encounter fewer daily changes, even though their living conditions may be more favourable. I’ve been there too, and during that time, I probably wasn’t as edgy and self-aware as I am today. When working with them, I see exceptional performers who swiftly accept, execute, and accomplish tasks. I mean, there are so many of them. Only when you aspire to elevate dance to an art form, it’s going to take more than passive task execution alone, instead you need to be a lot more proactive. Of course, not everyone has to be an artist, it all varies between individuals at the end of the day right?
AW：给这个章节做一个稍微轻松点的结尾吧。跑了这么多个国家后，如果有机会让你选一个地儿居住生活的话，你觉得会是哪个城市？
Let’s end this chapter on a lighter note, after visiting so many countries, where would you like to settle down if you were to pick one?
KL：我没有一个确定的答案。如果可能的话，我非常想再去一趟以色列和法国。现在最想做的还是旅行，我想去意大利，想去日本，这些地方都是2020年二月份左右计划好了的，但是因为疫情，被迫停止了旅行。对现在的我来说，要考虑在哪儿停下来，真的还是太早了。我之前想留在苏州，我觉得那很漂亮很舒适，有山有水，跟我家乡很像。后来因为工作关系，我来到了上海，刚稳定下来就遇到了疫情。包括现在我又回到北京，也都是计划之外的。每当我想安定下来的时候仿佛命运就告诉我，不行，现在还不是时候，我还要继续流动，我还要再去经历别的事情。总之希望疫情可以尽快结束吧，或者是能够找到一种与之共存的方式，人类的历史不也一直是这么过来的么。
I don’t have a definitive answer to be honest. I would love to go back to Israel and France once more, the only thing that’s on the top of my list is to travel and to explore, I would love to visit Italy and Japan, they were on my schedule before the pandemic struck and I had to cancel. For me at this stage, it’s probably too early to think about when to stop or where to settle. I wanted to stay in Suzhou back in the day, it’s chilled, it’s pretty, very picturesque and a bit like my hometown as well. I had to move to Shanghai afterwards because of work, just as I was settling down, here came the pandemic. Even when I returned to Beijing not too long ago, it was also never part of the plan. With my every attempt to find stability, fate just seems to whisper, “Not yet, the hour is not ripe. There are still uncharted journeys awaiting, still places to explore.” I mean, I just hope that the pandemic can come to an end already or we just find a harmonious way to coexist, after all, isn’t that how the collective human history has always been?
1. BeijingDance / LDTX (雷动天下现代舞团) is a prominent dance company based in Beijing founded in 2005 by Willy Tsao and Hanzhong Li. Dynamic and versatile, the company combines elements of traditional Chinese culture with innovative choreography and diverse artistic collaborations. The performances are often powerful and thought-provoking, exploring social, cultural, and human experiences.
2. Xiu Su 《休诉》is a traditional Chinese drama that portrays the story of a woman in ancient society, who was divorced by her husband, which is considered a significant disgrace for women in that era, as it meant losing one’s social status, family support, and facing social pressure and discrimination. The story highlights the vulnerable position of women and their dependence on marriage in traditional Chinese society.
3. TAO Dance Theater (陶身体剧场) is founded by choreographer Tao Ye (陶冶) in 2008, a cutting-edge contemporary dance company based in China. Known for its minimalist, experimental approach and visually stunning performances.
4. Shenyuan Hu (胡沈员) is a dancer and contemporary artist from China. Started his dance journey specialising in folk dance and later ventured into the world of contemporary dance.
The original interview was conducted in Mandarin Chinese by Axel Wang on 17 December 2022, the epilogue was conducted on 8 March 2023 mostly in Mandarin Chinese and partially in English. The above conversation has been condensed, edited and translated accordingly. The title of the chapter is in reference to the song by Roy Clark.
Introduction, Editor & Design: Axel Wang
Photography: All images are courtesy of Kehua Li (Lico)
Special Thanks: Harry Wang