The legend of the White Snake has been in the zeitgeist of the Chinese-speaking world since the dawn of time, shape-shifting with changes in social and political winds. A Tang dynasty tale about the hazards of romancing someone whose origins are murky (specifically, a demon snake) has transformed over time. Now a dance drama about a woman with a past, who reclaims her identity and shapes her own future, has stormed the stage of New York’s Lincoln Center, with stunning production values, captivating performances and intriguing modern twists on the Chinese classic.

Lady White Snake, a production of Shanghai Grand Theatre with lead dancers from Suzhou Ballet, Cincinnati Ballet, Shanghai Ballet and Béjart Ballet Lausanne, is helmed by Yuan Yuan Tan, longtime prima ballerina of San Francisco Ballet. It has since been revamped into a metaphysical thriller that jumps between the present-day and a mythological past, with three of the leads embodying both an ancient and a contemporary character.
The radiant Dingwen Ao dances Lady White Snake and a present-day wife with both delicacy and steeliness. Husheng Wu as her husband Xu Xian portrays an earnest scholar in the olden times and a brash corporate executive in modern life with clean, unmannered technique, his encounters with Ao a blend of contemporary ballet and bravura lifts straight out of Soviet ballets, including the thrilling one-handed ‘Spartacus lift’ in which Ao balances in a precarious tilted arabesque over Wu’s head. Yu Song as the sinister monk Fa Hai doubles as a psychologist who treats the wife for hallucinations. His splendid technique seamlessly incorporates heart-stopping martial arts moves like a butterfly 540 twist.
The wife’s hallucinations are perfectly understandable, considering that she is the reincarnation of a centuries-old snake. With an alter ego who takes the form of a spunky, freethinking Green Snake. Danced seductively by Yimei Tan, Green Snake drives White Snake into a fury when she tries to come between her and Xu Xian. But she does provoke White Snake into rethinking her dutiful compliance with society's strictures and resisting the controlling influence of Fa Hai/the psychologist. Green Snake engages a brigade of underwater creatures to vanquish Fa Hai’s fascist army of monks who wear full black face masks and gold robes and have a penchant for kidnapping and imprisoning innocent people, including the hapless Xu Xian.
In the epilogue, Lady White Snake and Green Snake entwine on a pedestal in a posture akin to that of Odette and Siegfried at the close of many versions of Swan Lake – except that this is not the timeworn love-conquers-all scenario. “We will eventually become ourselves” is the central theme of this ballet (in translation). A refreshing vision for a balletic interpretation of an ancient myth, for our heroine to emancipate herself and embrace her wild side.
Choreographer Peixian Wang tells this story with bracing clarity in a blend of Chinese classical dance, ballet, modern dance and wushu that proves most original in the ensemble sequences. From the opening scene of languid women trapped in their shopping carts at a modern supermarket, to underwater scenes populated by seductive fish, led by Green Snake, who swirls silk ‘water sleeves’ traditional to Chinese opera to beguiling effect. Magnificent, too, is the climactic battle in which Fa Hai’s goons brandish fighting staffs in an attempt to slay Green Snake.
The duets and pas de trois follow more conventional neoclassical ballet tropes, weakened by a symphonic score which rushes to foreshadow the plot points. It’s as if composer Zhong Xu didn’t trust the choreography to tell the story, so the opening measures of the score in pivotal scenes are either treacly sweet or ominously crashing. The recording is further plagued by a lack of dynamic contrast, the dial seemingly stuck at 11. But where Xu layers Chinese wind, string and percussion instruments, the sound is richly compelling. When Xu Xian tries to escape Fa Hai’s evil clutches, he tears around the stage en manège to gossamer music, dance and music beautifully underscoring the contrasting dualities in the narrative.
So too does the outstanding visual concept that utilizes a few bold, modernist scenic elements, coupled with lighting and animated video projections to create stark geometries; these convey the soullessness of a modern supermarket, the underwater magic of a deep lake, a storm at sea, and the monks’ fortress. Enhancing the sets by Guangjian Gao, lighting and projection design by Lihe Xiao and video design by Jiangzhou Feng, is Viola Zhang’s sumptuous costuming that takes inspiration from traditional Chinese robes, sleek neoclassical ballet contours and contemporary fashion.
Lady White Snake arrives in New York, its first stop on a global tour, at a time that historian Adam Tooze describes as “the material dethroning… the provincialization of the West,” enabling China to flex its soft power. It certainly has an exhilarating caliber of ballet in its arsenal.