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    Second Act: How a 500-Year-Old Chinese Opera Returned to Modern Life

    Long dismissed as too slow for modern tastes, Kunqu opera is quietly being reinvented — with one performer bringing it into therapy sessions, elderly care, and daily life.
    Jun 10, 2025#arts#tradition

    Zhao Jinyu still remembers the time she gave away tickets to her Kunqu opera performance — and couldn’t find anyone who wanted them. “Too elegant,” her friends said. “Makes me sleepy.”

    That was 2005, just a few years after Kunqu opera — a 500-year-old form of Chinese opera known for its refined movement and lyrical verse — was added to UNESCO’s inaugural list of “Masterpieces of the Oral and Intangible Heritage of Humanity.”

    Over the next two decades, Zhao continued to perform Kunqu opera on stage — but quietly began reshaping the artform from within. Determined not to let it fade, she started adapting its stylized gestures for memory training, its slow rhythms for meditation, its language for digital classrooms.

    In nursing homes and online forums, Zhao even began testing Kunqu with young professionals looking to de-stress, and Alzheimer’s patients working to retain memory.

    On June 5, at the 2025 International Intangible Cultural Heritage Protection Forum in Shanghai, Sixth Tone spoke with Zhao about her shift from performer to promoter — and how a 500-year-old opera form is finding new meaning far from the stage.

    Sixth Tone: Why did you decide to shift from being a performer to promoting Kunqu opera?

    Zhao: In 2005, I held a solo performance. I gave a few tickets to friends, but one passed them to someone else, who passed them on again — and eventually, they came right back to me. No one wanted them.

    It’s when I realized that if someone’s never experienced Kunqu opera, just inviting them to a show isn’t enough. One friend even told me, “Kunqu opera is too elegant for me. I don’t get it. I’m afraid I’ll sit there like I’m at a symphony and fall asleep for two hours.”

    So I thought: I want to be a bridge between Kunqu opera and the public. I want to explain what Kunqu is, why it still matters today, and what it could mean for our future.

    Sixth Tone: What makes Kunqu opera relevant to modern life?

    Zhao: People today are under a lot of pressure. Everyone’s anxious, looking for something calming. Kunqu opera moves at a very slow pace. It helps release emotion and settle the mind. In that sense, it’s not so different from meditation or sound-bowl therapy.

    Many of my students are young professionals who treat Kunqu opera as a hobby, or even a kind of mental retreat from work. They tell me the melodies and lyrics help quiet the noise in their heads.

    Kunqu is also highly structured, so writing new scripts is difficult. But the classics still feel alive. Different performers, or even the same performer in a different emotional state, will bring out different interpretations.

    There’s a line in The Peony Pavilion that goes, “If only the moon could rise again, and the lanterns glow once more.” One of my students cried when she heard me sing it. She was struggling to keep her startup afloat during the pandemic. That one line made her feel seen, like even in your darkest hour, there’s still a chance for light to return.

    Sixth Tone: Beyond helping young people manage stress, how else have you adapted Kunqu opera for modern life?

    Zhao: In recent years, I’ve focused on combining Kunqu with wellness for the elderly.

    Hand movements — especially the “orchid fingers” — are a key part of Kunqu opera. The gesture mimics the shape of an orchid blossom, which in Chinese culture symbolizes elegance.

    Drawing on these movements, I developed a simple set of exercises: from orchid finger, to orchid palm, to orchid fist. It’s like yoga with a Chinese touch. These gestures stimulate parts of the brain linked to coordination and memory.

    I’ve introduced the routine in nursing homes and cognitive care centers, particularly for people with Alzheimer’s. The exercises help strengthen both memory and motor skills.

    So, promoting Kunqu opera isn’t just about teaching people to sing or act. It’s about helping them use it to support their own well-being.

    Sixth Tone: How did you develop these new approaches to Kunqu opera?

    Zhao: It’s been a process of ongoing learning and collaboration. To create the finger exercises, for example, I worked with medical professors to better understand how the brain functions.

    There’s always more to learn.

    Sixth Tone: How do you navigate the impact of new technologies on traditional arts?

    Zhao: Sometimes AI can help preserve skills, like recording a master’s voice and turning it into a digital avatar. That avatar might become a new way to reach broader audiences.

    But intangible heritage isn’t just about technique. What we’re passing down is emotional depth, artistic integrity, and a way of thinking.

    In the end, it’s one human life touching another. It’s about capturing the subtleties of human nature — and the magic that happens between people.

    (Header image: A portrait of Zhao Jinyu. Courtesy of Zhao)