Explore the philosophy and artistry behind Zhu Jiejing’s performances, where grace, discipline, and the soul of dance come alive.
The Iceberg of Performance
As the melody of Song of the Fishermen filled the theatre, Zhu Jiejing rose and walked calmly onto the stage of Hong Kong’s Gala Dance Performance II. For the celebrated principal dancer of the Shanghai Song and Dance Troupe, stretching her body was no challenge. What truly demanded mastery was making the name “Zhu Jiejing” disappear behind her role.
“The best performances leave no trace,” she told CNS in a backstage interview on Jan. 11th. “In my heart, there is an iceberg.”
This metaphor reflects a principle Zhu has held for years. What the audience sees is just the tip: the graceful posture, the swirling skirts, the shifting gaze. Yet beneath the surface lies the foundation of the dance—the strength, precision, and countless hours of unseen work that perform its soul.
Capturing the Details
To reveal the full iceberg, Zhu trains herself to be a keen observer. Every rehearsal sharpens her senses. She notices subtle warmth hidden in gestures and embraces the small imperfections that bring authenticity to movement.
She doesn’t want the audience to see “Zhu Jiejing dancing”; she wants them to see a living painting—one that conveys the softness and resilience of Chinese women and the weight of life shaped by time.
“I dance, or I don’t, it’s still there,” she says. In productions like Crested Ibis, she has sculpted her body to perfection; in The Eternal Wave, she has infused profound emotional depth. Today, she moves like a sponge that has absorbed water—every gesture releases pure dance effortlessly.
Meeting the World
This clarity allows Zhu to connect deeply with Hong Kong, a city where Eastern and Western cultures converge. At this stage, she is more than a dancer—she becomes a cultural ambassador, carrying the essence of Chinese heritage while connecting with a global audience.
“When I stop focusing only on myself and the role, the world around me becomes wider,” Zhu admits. She acknowledges the pressures and expectations of the external world, yet she has never lost the little girl inside—the girl who once fell in love with spinning in a floral dress.
Her goal is to dance until she turns 100. “How long I dance isn’t what matters,” she says. “What matters is that when I stand on stage, the dance itself is alive.”
Additional reporting by Xiaotong Dai.
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