With that in mind, I went to see The Red Detachment of Women performed by the National Ballet of China in Hong Kong in January. I was curious about the art form – a Maoist adaptation of Western ballet – and to find out whether this modern classic can be appreciated for its artistry alone.
Its origin was pure ideology. Created in 1964 by none other than Mao Zedong’s wife, Jiang Qing, just before the Cultural Revolution, it was a tool for attacking feudalism and Confucianism, and for the glorification of the nation and the proletariat.
It was based on Liang Xin’s 1961 novel about a peasant girl in Hainan Island who was oppressed by an evil landlord. She later joined an all-female army division of the Chinese Communist Party and climbed up the ranks.
In the end, victory was all hers. The Communists gained ground in the civil war, and she had her revenge against the landlord.
Hong Kong inclusive performing arts programme No Limits returns
Hong Kong inclusive performing arts programme No Limits returns
It may seem ironic how ballet was taken up by the Communist Party to push an anti-West, anti-bourgeois ideology. But Mao promoted the adaptation of foreign concepts for Chinese use, and this particular project of Madame Mao became one of eight official “model operas”, and was performed for Richard Nixon when the American president visited in 1972.
It has therefore long been part of the permanent repertoire of the National Ballet of China, which first brought it to Hong Kong in the 1990s. The last time was 10 years ago, in 2014.
It is, of course, possible to admire propaganda art for its formal qualities. In 1998, the South China Morning Post’s reviewer said this about the performance: “Red Detachment offered a chance to indulge the fascination many still feel for Mao kitsch.”
And the National Ballet of China, which also performed Swan Lake when it came to Hong Kong in January, has some of the country’s top dancers, all rigorously trained and often spectacularly gifted.
On January 10, the Hong Kong Cultural Centre was buzzing with quiet excitement on opening night. There were quite a few non-Chinese attending and there was a good mix of age groups.
Many people were smiling broadly while taking photos in front of a big poster showing a female ballet dancer doing a beautiful split leap dressed in a Communist army uniform.
It was a visually stunning production. In the second scene, the curtains pulled back to reveal a Communist Party army barracks, and it seemed as if all those classic socialist realism posters had come to life.
The backdrop of the sky was eye-wateringly blue, and everything seemed perfect, including the dancers’ flawless pirouettes and creaseless uniforms. The unwavering sense of moral superiority and strong determination of the female soldiers came through in their facial expressions and body language.
The music that played whenever Communist Party members were dancing was powerful and positive while their demeanour was righteous and valiant.
‘I felt loved’: how choreographer Yuri Ng caught the ballet bug young
‘I felt loved’: how choreographer Yuri Ng caught the ballet bug young
The performance ended to loud cheers from the audience, and deservedly so.
However, living in Hong Kong today, the ideological aspect of the work is a little too close to home.
Art can be a universal language. Art can even out differences. Somehow, I don’t think that The Red Detachment of Women, with its melodramatic caricature of “us versus them”, is going to achieve that in Hong Kong any time soon.