In the first years of China’s Cultural Revolution, there were only eight “model plays” that were officially sanctioned by the regime and performed again and again across the country: five operas, two ballets and a symphony. One of those ballets, The Red Detachment of Women, about a peasant girl’s rise in the communist army, is now the subject of a contemporary appraisal in Beijing-based choreographer Wen Hui’s Red.
It’s a fascinating story that Wen tells through filmed interviews with former dancers and audience members, and movement and narration from herself and a cast of three. We hear of revolutionary dancers getting their ballet shoes stuck in the mud performing for rural workers, being told to “be filled with class hatred” while doing broadsword practice, and to use revolutionary mottos – “fear neither hardship nor death” – to get through the excruciating pain of pointe work. We also hear of young army officers, starved of female contact, who may not have had revolution on their minds when a troupe of leggy young ballerinas arrived to spread Mao’s message.
We don’t explicitly hear that these dancers escaped the persecution that befell other artists and intellectuals at that time. But certainly for one now elderly leading lady, these are happy memories, even if others have come to see the ballet in a different light.
Wen and her dancers bring their own memories and morsels of explanation, plus physical responses that are, sadly, often less interesting than the testimonies on screen. Red’s different elements do not slickly coalesce, and the emotional journey lacks power. But while the format is not entirely successful, the story and its voices are compelling enough to keep us engaged.
At the Purcell Room, London, until 5 October.
