Every War Belongs to You: Wen Hui on What is War
Born in 1960, Wen Hui studied traditional Chinese dance and choreography at the Beijing Dance Academy before training with Trisha Brown and Pina Bausch. In 1994, she cofounded Living Dance Studio, the first independent dance theater in China.
The following year, Hui met Eiko Otake and the pair formed a friendship that would last decades. In this first part of a trilogy of interviews exploring their collaboration, Hui sat down with Rachel Cooper, Director of Global Cultural Diplomacy at Asia Society, to trace her journey from the Chinese Cultural Revolution to What is War.
Rachel Cooper
How did you get started with dance?
Wen Hui
I‘m from the [time of the] Cultural Revolution, which started in 1966. From the ages of 6 to 16, I was dancing for Chairman Mao. I performed in the dance opera that was propaganda. We were children and would go out into the street and start dancing. This led to professional training at the dance school when I was 13.
Around 1980, China started to open up, and we got more influences from the West. I remember a moment when I was at the Beijing Dance Academy and saw Robert Rauschenberg’s exhibition. It broke open my thinking about art. I also saw Trisha Brown’s company. This was the first time both of them came to China. We didn’t know who TrIsha Brown was; we were just students. But we heard an American dancer was performing.
All the young people were excited. They gave away free tickets to the students.
RC
What impression did it make on you?
WH
It was my first time to see dancers naked. That piece I remember the dancers were dancing in projections by Rauschenberg. The dancer’s costumes were made of transparent material, and we could see the naked body inside. Our tickets were in the back of the theater, but we ran to the front to see.
RC
Did it change how you thought about dance?
WH
In that period in the 1980s in China, there was culture shock—even before Trisha Brown. I remember in 1985 the Alvin Ailey Dance Company came to Beijing. We were very impressed with their technique and how the body moved. But, for me, it was Tricia Brown that was more surprising because it really was a new idea of dance. Tricia Brown was a treasure, and I felt a discovery: Oh, this is dance.
RC
When did you start making your own dance?
WH
When I studied at the Beijing Dance Academy, I was in the choreography department, and my teacher was educated in Russia.
After I graduated, I worked in a national dance company as a choreographer. But there was a big change moment in the 1990s, when the country and economy started to open. It was really an exciting time because many new ideas were emerging in China.
In 1986, I started to create my first experimental work. I was not really dancing, I put plastic buckets all over the space and sat in the buckets. My teacher couldn’t accept it.
RC
Your teacher criticized you?
WH
Exactly. They said, “If you continue to do this, maybe you should leave the school.”
RC
They threatened to kick you out if you kept doing this experimental work?
WH
Yes. After I graduated I worked with a national dance company and [choreographed] a kind of popular dance, and I was very bored.
In 1994 I went to New York to make a documentary film. After filming, I said: “Okay, I’m free. I want to stay in New York to learn more. I will pay for myself.” And I rented a small room in Queens for $260 a month.
A dance magazine that my friend gave me had addresses of Martha Graham and Trisha Brown classes. I didn’t speak English, so I would go to the subway and say to strangers, “Excuse me, I go here.” People would reply, “Oh, take the 7, then change to the 6.” I didn’t understand, so I would take the first train they pointed to and then repeat the process to another person.
Eventually, I would make it to the class. I didn’t have much money, so I would stand outside and watch through a window each class in order to decide which one to take. I didn’t want to take a very strong movement technique class like Graham, because my previous training was too similar. I wanted a transition for my body. I wanted training in how to relax and release my body.
RC
You wanted to use your body in a different way than your earlier training?
WH
Exactly. I would go to one class to test; if I liked the teacher, I would keep going. Some people recommended I go to Movement Research. I went and there were dancers on the beach—all dancing.
I didn’t speak English at the time. But I met Gloria and her husband, Ken, who is Japanese. I would write and he could translate in kanji. That is how I could communicate. Someone suggested I call the director of the Asian Cultural Council at that time. They helped me apply for a grant to be in residence in New York the following year. Maida Withers, a professor at George Mason University, asked if I could give a Chinese dance workshop, but I said, “No, I want to perform. I want to be creative, find a new way, and experiment.” That led to my first work, 100 verbs.
It was an experimental piece about women. The work followed a woman’s daily life. I took a shower, washed clothes, cleaned the floor, and at the end the stage was hanging with wet clothes. This was my first piece. I had freedom to do what I wanted to do.
At the end of 1994, I went back to China because I wanted to create performance. This is when I formed my group Living Dance Studio.
I had just returned from New York, and we didn’t have independent dancers in China at that time. I invited all my friends to join. They were from different disciplines, like theater, photography, teaching table tennis, and other workers. All my friends came, and I was the only professional dancer. We did the performance in a studio at the film academy.
Creating work this way was something I learned in New York.
RC
Were there any other experimental dance groups in China at that time?
WH
No.
RC
It’s hard to be a pioneer.
WH
I didn’t think about that. I just wanted to do it.
RC
For me, it sounds like that form gave you freedom to say something different about your life in China.
WH
The body is your vehicle to connect with society. You can speak through your body.
RC
Over the 30 years since that, you’ve created a lot of different work. How did you meet your current collaborator, Eiko Otake?
WH
I first met Eiko in 1995 in Guangdong, at a small theater festival. Eiko and Koma performed there. I was also performing there. When the performance was finished, we walked out of the theater, and Eiko was there. She said the work was great, and immediately we felt so close.
Later we performed at Asia Society in NYC, and Eiko came. Every time I performed in New York, Eiko came and, when they performed, Eiko always invited us.
RC
How did you come to perform more of your own works?
WH
I started to learn how as a woman, you need your own voice. Every woman is an individual. When you’re a couple, you always have compromise.
In this period, I had already worked for 11 years independently. It was a learning process. So fantastic. You don’t have something binding you. I feel like I’m free.
Eiko called me and said that she was coming to China. We were able to go to Nanjing and visit the Nanjing Massacre Museum. It was very moving to have a Japanese artist visit that museum and face that history. Later, in public talks, Eiko apologized to those in attendance. We were all very touched. The history of the Nanjing massacre and World War II is still a memory that’s alive for many Chinese people.
RC
Having a Japanese artist come and apologize was meaningful?
WH
It’s really meaningful.
RC
Your work often tackles social issues, such as the role of women or fairness in society.
WH
Yes. I think our connecting point that we all desire. We want to speak about society, question society.
RC
What was the process of deciding to work on a new piece together, and how did you decide on the title What is War?
WH
The first evening Eiko came to Beijing, we both agreed we had to learn from each other, we had to know each other.
It is a learning process. We each have our own backgrounds, being Japanese and Chinese. These backgrounds have their own history. These histories contribute to our conversations, our communication. Eiko’s telling me her father’s story during the war was really moving for me. In my heart I understand this is a human being.
Then, I interviewed my mom. I heard how my grandmother was killed during bombing in a Japanese airplane attack.
RC
Your grandmother died in the bombing by the Japanese?
WH
I always knew my grandmother passed away when my mom was 5 years old. I didn’t know how she passed away. I learned when my mother was 80 years old, and I asked how my grandmother passed away. Everyone was running to a bomb shelter, but my grandmother was sick and could not run. She stayed in the house, and my 5-year-old mother stayed with her. A large bomb fell near their house, and my grandmother had a heart attack from hearing the explosion.
Every family has some connection to war. You don’t think the war is very close, but actually it touches every family. If you go five generations back, they all have been touched by war in some way. This is true of my grandmother and Eiko’s father.
War is a personal experience for everybody, every person. Think back to your own history and your family. Has it been touched by war? This is personal. War belongs to everyone. Often people think a certain war is none of their business; it is between these two other countries who are at war. People think it does not belong to them. But, no, every war belongs to you.
You have to speak. You have to stand up, use your voice. I thought: Stop the war.
RC
How did you develop the work together?
WH
We talk a lot. I’m really impressed by Eiko. She always uses the body. She goes with her body to experience, to feel. My background as a choreographer has influenced me differently. I always want to be able to see, to think from outside, and ask: What is the structure?
RC
Do you feel like you’ve been able to create something that’s more than what one of you could do by yourself?
WH
The important word is witness. We are both creative, but at the same time we are both witnesses, because we both have our family histories. We want to be the witness. We want to bear witness.▪︎
Experience What is War at the Walker April 11–12, 2025 at the Walker. Learn more and get tickets here.
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