Freedom to Fly

In the canon of classical ballet, star-crossed love is an integral theme. With its US debut of “The Butterfly Lovers”—a new full-length work inspired by a Chinese folktale that dates back to the Tang Dynasty—Hong Kong Ballet brings an artfully rendered addition to this tradition.

Performance

Hong Kong Ballet: “The Butterfly Lovers” by Hu Song Wei Ricky and Mai Jingwen

Place

David H. Koch Theater at Lincoln Center, New York, NY, August 22, 2025

Words

Rebecca Deczynski

Hong Kong Ballet's “The Butterfly Lovers.” Photograph by Steven Pisano

The two-hour ballet tells the story of Zhu Yingtai, a wealthy and cloistered girl who, after much persuasion, convinces her parents to allow her to study away from home. When she enters the academy disguised as a man, she meets Liang Shanbo, a fellow student with whom she quickly forms a deep bond. It isn’t until Zhu receives a letter detailing her mother’s illness and calling her back home that she reveals her identity as a woman to Liang. He visits her home, hoping to propose marriage, but finds that Zhu is trapped: the letter was a lie, and her parents sent for her so that she could be wed to a proper suitor. The pair try to elope, but instead, Liang is attacked and later dies in grief. Zhu, practically sleepwalking through her wedding preparations, comes upon his grave, and jumps in, choosing to die for love rather than go through with her arranged marriage. Zhu and Liang, in a final cathartic scene, are reincarnated as butterflies.

There have been many adaptations of this story, choreographers Hu Song Wei Ricky and Mai Jingwen, explain in their program notes. Their version—which Hu, as Hong Kong Ballet’s choreographer-in-residence—conceptualized based on Mai’s libretto—pares back the folktale to its most essential plot points and characters, allowing the movement, dynamic set pieces, and a score by composer Tian Mi (who drew inspiration from He Zhanhao and Chen Gang’s 1959 “The Butterfly Lovers Violin Concerto”) to pull the story forward.

This is where “The Butterfly Lovers” succeeds over other recent story ballets which appeared in recent years at Lincoln Center, such as Helen Pickett’s “Crime and Punishment” and Christopher Wheeldon’s “Like Water for Chocolate,” both performed by American Ballet Theatre. These productions, weighted down with overly detailed storylines, fall too frequently into pantomime in order to carry the audience from point A to point B. In contrast, “The Butterfly Lovers” ballet tells a fairly straightforward story, with just a few, deliberate moments of dramatic acting occurring throughout the production. The dancing is what’s most essential here.

Hong Kong Ballet's “The Butterfly Lovers.” Photograph by Steven Pisano

From her opening scene, principal dancer Xuan Cheng, as Zhu, is effervescent and lilting, dancing with her parents (Wang Quingxin as her mother and Garry Corpuz as her father) in a mode of childlike merriment. Cheng is exact in her movements, yet impossibly light—fluttering through complex partnering sequences and arching her back in deep cambré. When, in the second scene of the ballet, Cheng comes face-to-face with Ma Renjie as Liang, she continues her playful stride. The pair find one another within a sea of youths who, dressed in flowing green garments, create a celebratory environment. Dancers weave through one another, grab hands, and move within circuitous formations. They are infectiously joyful.

Through this controlled chaos, Ma and Cheng unite and in their first pas de deux, take on a fraternal, exuberant dynamic. Cheng plays the part of Zhu with a sense of glee, in full embrace of her freedom, while Ma offers bravura and confidence—a young man in full possession of his strengths.

The choreographic evolution of Zhu and Liang’s relationship is subtle as Cheng’s more childlike mannerisms soften. A gaze, an arm, a lift might hold a little longer. The set, too, is particularly amenable to their interactions with one another. Near the end of the first act, the pair find themselves in a dormitory bed—an upright structure which gives the appearance of an overhead view—as the friends toss and turn across its surface, Cheng playing her part, now, with an air of shyness. The dream pas de deux, danced by Zhang Xuening and Yonen Takano, which follows this scene brings in a more distinct sense of romance.

Hong Kong Ballet's “The Butterfly Lovers.” Photograph by Steven Pisano

Expansive, layered ensemble choreography lends the ballet a cinematic effect, as these scenic numbers establish a sense of place and a tone against which the lead couple—together or separate—appears in relief. In early scenes, like the fair in which Zhu and Liang meet for the first time, the dancers alternate between blending in with the group and its buoyant movement and finding small moments of more personal connection amid the waves of lifts and leaps. In the classroom, Cheng holds her own in the athletic grand allegro before pausing to look dreamily at Ma, a moment both sweet and comedic.

The final group number in the first act brings a corps of dancers in white tutus around Zhu and Liang, both of whom are dressed in their school uniforms. This dreamlike scene is the most disparate in the ballet, evocative of “La Bayadère’s” “Kingdom of the Shades” in a way that feels out of place in a production that otherwise masterfully blends elements of classical ballet with Chinese traditional dance. Cheng, in pointe shoes throughout the ballet, bourrées alongside these dancers, her costume—and her technical skill—a contrast to those around her.

Still, Zhu and Liang generally dance in harmony with the group, though this is disrupted in the second act, as the ensemble turns against the now-isolated lovers. The guards at Zhu’s home pace in militaristic formations, their timing sharp and controlled. When Liang comes up against them, he is no match for their volume and force. This scene is one of the strongest in the ballet, with careful fight choreography that avoids falling into caricature.

Hong Kong Ballet's “The Butterfly Lovers.” Photograph by Steven Pisano

Away from these crowds, Cheng and Ma’s pas de deux in the second act are especially tender and agile, each featuring complex lifts that send Cheng spiraling over Ma’s back or around his torso. Even alone on stage, their expansive port de bras allow them to take up space, but their connection is magnified even more when they are surrounded by others. The pair’s palpable chemistry makes their performances affecting and emotional.

Reincarnated as butterflies, Zhu and Liang are able to dance together once more: Cheng and Ma appear reborn from a mass of undulating bodies before they come together for a final time. Dancers soar past them, ripples of the tan, gauzy fabric that extends from their sleeves creating a mystical effect that brings the production to a satisfying resolution. A shower of flower petals descends from the stage lights. Cheng casts her shoulders back and her chin up while in Ma’s caress. And then the pillars on the stage move to cover them and all the other butterflies that appeared to awaken from their chrysalises. They move again, opening the stage back up, to reveal the dancers have disappeared—flying, perhaps, through the petals which continue to fall.

Rebecca Deczynski

Rebecca Deczynski is a New York City-based writer and editor publishes the newsletter Thinking About Getting Into. Her work has appeared in publications including Inc., Domino, NYLON, and InStyle. She graduated from Barnard College cum laude with a degree in English and a minor in dance.

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Freedom to Fly

Rebecca Deczynski

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