Wandering to Wuzhen: A Festival of Encounters
Gregory Ioannidis*
Abstact
This reflective review reports on a visit to “Wuzhen Theater Festival” in China, held in the picturesque water town of Wuzhen. The text combines cultural observations with theatrical analysis, exploring how the historic town is transformed into a living stage for one of Asia’s most renowned performing arts festivals. It also presents some notable productions, such as Krzysztof Warlikowski’s We Are Leaving, Stan Lai’s River/Cloud, Wang Chong’s The Lying Flat 2.0 with the use of artificial intelligence, a postmodern Werther, the hybrid performance In Medea Res, and an experimental Waiting for Godot by Yi Liming. Through these the essay examines the combination of tradition and innovation, of the global and the local at the festival, ultimately proposing Wuzhen as a dynamic center for contemporary theatre and cultural exchange.
Keywords: festival, Wuzhen, Warlikowski, Stan Lai, Yi Liming, Beckett, Goethe
As a European traveller landing in China for the first time, I was swept off my feet by the ancient water town of Wuzhen, with its mix of tradition and modern energy. Just a couple of hours away from Shanghai in Zhejiang Province, Wuzhen is one of China’s most famous water towns and it definitely lives up to its reputation. What immediately commands the visitor’s attention are its breath-taking canals. Wuzhen’s streets are strung together with stone and wooden bridges, tying up narrow alleys and traditional wooden houses. Water runs everywhere; tiny boats float along the canals, and houses seem to spill right into the water as if they’ve grown outward from inside the canal.

With a history that stretches back over 1,300 years, every nook and cranny of Wuzhen seems steeped in the past. Its beautifully preserved buildings display styles from the Tang and Ming dynasties, projecting a sensation of stepping back in time. Wandering down the cobblestone pathways, I felt as if I were soaking up the stories these streets and bridges seemed to whisper. Traditional shops and workshops popped up along the way, brandishing crafts that have been handed down through generations. I came across artisans keeping the old ways alive, churning out handmade fabrics and silks as their ancestors did. A stop by the Woodblock Printing Technology Museum strongly alerted me to the artistic and scientific genius of ancient China.

Yet Wuzhen isn’t stuck in its past; on the contrary, the city is buzzing with contemporary life. Locals carry on with their daily routines, and cozy cafés and waterside restaurants dish out fresh fish and stir-fried noodles. As night falls, the town lights up, and those who wander through the glowing streets experience pure magic. The canals reflect the shimmering lights, transforming the place into a dreamscape where the casual walker gets lost in its quiet beauty.
Wuzhen Theatre Festival: Where Art Takes Over the Town
My short stop in Wuzhen happened to coincide with the famous Wuzhen Theatre Festival, which most definitely impacted my visit. The festival converted the whole town into one big, lively stage. Everywhere I turned, performances were breaking out, on the streets, by the canals, and even in hidden courtyards. Set right in the middle of the historic water town, the Wuzhen Theatre Festival has quickly risen through the ranks since it was inaugurated in 2013 and has become a hotspot for artistic creativity and cultural exchange in Asia. However, it’s not simply a showcase of theatre; on the contrary, it’s a celebration that brings together old traditions and cutting-edge performances from around the world. Every year, the festival breathes new life into Wuzhen, refashioning its canals and cobblestone streets as a stage where anything can happen.
The latest edition, from October 17–27, 2024, focused on the theme of stability. The program was packed with sections such as “International Brilliance” and “Emerging Radiance,” blending old-school charm with ground-breaking theatre. “International Brilliance” charmed the crowd with reimagined classics and bold new stories, while “Emerging Radiance” allowed young artists to step up and show off their skills, competing for top prizes like Best Play and Outstanding Artist. Meanwhile, “Under the Sky” spilled theatre into every corner of the town with street performances and interactive shows that drew everyone in.

The venues ranged from the spectacular Wuzhen Grand Theatre to charming old teahouses, offering audiences a mix of grand and intimate experiences. Whether sitting in a high-tech auditorium or catching a surprise performance in a quiet alley, the spectator is wrapped up in the magic of it all. Over the years, the festival has served as a catalyst for innovation in Chinese theatre by promoting talented young people and spotlighting China’s rich theatrical traditions on the global stage. The Wuzhen Festival has become a melting pot of stories from all over the world, rooted in Chinese heritage but always looking outward, so that Wuzhen is now the heartbeat of a thriving cultural community.
Six Performances of Renewal and Reflection
Though my visit to the Wuzhen Festival was regrettably brief, it still allowed me to sample the vibrancy and diversity of the festival. During the few days I was there, I had the chance to immerse myself in six strikingly different productions, each highlighting the festival’s dynamic range. These productions included an internationally acclaimed performance by a renowned director and company, a masterclass in storytelling and theatrical finesse, and a production deeply rooted in Chinese storytelling, perhaps too immersed in Chinese tradition due to its cultural and narrative specificity, yet brimming with authenticity and emotional depth. Clearly, it was an avant-garde production that shattered convention with bold formal experimentation while challenging both audience expectations and theatrical norms. A production by a university theatre group grappled with the timeless tension between classical work and contemporary innovation and dared to reimagine the classics for a new generation; as such, it was a purely minimalist dance-theatre performance where simplicity merged with extraordinary technical precision, creating a poetic interplay of movement and meaning. Finally, a neoclassical drama was reinterpreted through the lens of highly acclaimed Chinese artists, whose culture specific perspective added a fresh, layered depth to the work.
Each of these productions, in its own way, embodied the essence of the festival: a celebration of artistic delivery and renewal where tradition meets innovation and local meets global. Together they offered not just a glimpse into Wuzhen’s theatrical core but also a deeper appreciation of the evolving world of performance.
We Are Leaving – A Rollercoaster of Comedy and Tragedy
In We Are Leaving, a 3 ½ hour powerful performance at the Wuzhen Festival, Krzysztof Warlikowski dives back into the bittersweet world of Hanoch Levin. Following his earlier hit with Krum, Warlikowski digs into Levin’s deep musings on life, leaving audiences to wrestle with one big question: should we give in to life’s inevitabilities or pack up and face the unknown? Warlikowski interprets Levin’s work as a reflection on existence, asking us to pause and think about what life and death really mean. If death reminds us how fleeting life is, then theatre, with its way of reshaping life, provides the perfect tool to help us figure out the evanescence of life.

Levin’s writing holds its ground with his usual mix of wit, warmth and sharp insight. He layers poetic beauty with biting social critique, zooming in on the daily grind of a tight-knit community which spans several generations. Whether it’s grandparents dreaming of lost love or young people imagining a fresh start, everyone’s struggling to break free, whether through romance, travel or time itself. Levin doesn’t soften the blow of the narrative; life often loops around the same old cycle of birth, love, marriage, more births and death. On the other hand, for many of his characters, the gap between the cradle and the grave feels like a lonely, endless rut. Consider Henia, the aging matriarch who laments a childhood she never outgrew, or her son, who wastes his savings on shallow crushes; together they embody Levin’s bleak outlook on mediocrity.
But Warlikowski doesn’t remain in the dark and dreary; instead, he brings the stage to life with a dynamic cast of colourful characters. The neighbourhood bustles with juicy drama: families tangled up with the local prostitute, a flashy blonde American tourist, a bold young gay man shaking up norms, and funeral directors always lurking nearby. These stories merge into a raw, moving mosaic of human longing and frustration. Skipping the frills, Warlikowski serves up realism with a sharp edge. Watching it feels like peeking into real life, messy, painful, but undeniably human. Levin’s dark humour shines through, turning sex into an awkward escape and death into a sudden punchline.

Yet the show doesn’t idle in Levin’s world; it also criticizes the fissures in our own. Warlikowski spins Levin’s story into a reflection on the struggles of the West, beset by broken families, lost hope, and the unravelling of community ties. Instead of preaching, however, he chooses to foreground the messy contradictions of humanity. As always, Warlikowski’s set design is spectacular. His use of space, a symbolic nod to wandering and searching, with echoes of Israeli landscapes, adds increased meaning to every scene. Beyond the looming spectre of death, Warlikowski explores life’s quieter exits of mental breakdowns, fleeting connections and the slow erosion of relationships. Although this production doesn’t quite match the visceral intensity of its Athens debut, it successfully captures Warlikowski’s signature grandeur. His unique, free-flowing style ties every piece of the production together into a living, breathing story.
We Are Leaving achieves a balance between life’s absurd comedy and its stark tragedy, reflecting the chaos and beauty of being human. The performance provokes laughter, tears and deep thought, and like Levin’s work itself, expresses the very essence of our contemporary era.
“River/Cloud”: Bridging History and Intimacy
River/Cloud, writtenby the well-known Stan Lai and staged by Taiwan’s legendary Performance Workshop, continues from the point at which Secret Love in Peach Blossom Land ended.

First staged in 1986, the play revolutionized Taiwanese theatre by blending heartbreak and humour into one seamless story. Now, in 2025, River/Cloud revisits these same themes, diving headfirst into the rippling waves of history and personal connections during and after the Cold War. In essence, it is a love story: two people, separated by life, fate, and history, are bound by decades of heartfelt letters. These letters, expressing longing and introspection, keep their romance alive, but at the same time connect their personal story to China’s turbulent past.
Shifting between timelines and layering memories, dreams, and everyday struggles, River/Cloud presents a compelling narrative that spans four decades. While focusing on the lovers, interpreted by Chang Chen and Hsiao Ai, with a special performance by the renowned Chinese music composer Kimbo Hu, the performance successfully depicts the realities of post-war Taiwan, blending the monumental shifts of a nation with the small, poignant moments of individual lives. The set design by Daniel Ostling skillfully represents the essence of the period, depicting a multidimensional world where actors and memories slip in and out like passing clouds. Light, sound, and visual imagery merge to create a parallel universe that seems to extend beyond the physical space of the stage.

Along with serious drama, River/Cloud also includes moments of melodrama, featuring continuous music that creates a mood and a novel-like structure that unfolds naturally. Lai’s philosophical musings on destiny add increased depth, transforming a simple love story into a grand narrative. In the end, River/Cloud is more than a play; it represents an emotional journey through time where love and history collide, the mundane and monumental intertwine, and traces of the past shape the present.
The Lying Flat 2.0 – Lying Down to Stand Out
In The Lying Flat 2.0, director Wang Chong challenges traditional notions of theatre, delivering an experience that is equal parts performance, existential reflection, and technological marvel. This is not a show to watch passively in plush seats, observing the action from a safe distance. Instead, the performance begins with a surprising invitation to the spectator to remove shoes and socks, lie down on a folding bed and prepare to be wheeled into the unknown. Far from morbid, this unsettling introduction sets the tone for a performance that explores life, death, and everything in between.
From the outset, the audience is actively participating. Everyone is asked to write down a moment when they felt most alive, a deceptively simple task that frames the personal and philosophical nature of what follows. Throughout the performance, the line between audience and performer blur. Cameras roam the room, zooming in on individuals, while the performers pose probing, deeply human questions about mortality and meaning. Thematically, the production draws on the concept of lying flat, a social movement in China that advocates for minimalism and rejection of societal pressures. The Lying Flat 2.0 extends this idea, transforming it into an exploration of self-awareness and choices made in navigating life’s demands.

One of the most striking elements of the production is its application of artificial intelligence. Central to this project is ChatGPT, which is projected onto a massive screen above the audience. This instance of AI plays multiple roles as co-writer, interpreter and performer. Its ability to answer questions from the audience in real time adds an unpredictable and almost uncanny quality to the experience, creating the sense that production itself is alive and evolving. Additional technological innovations are featured, such as the ethereal, otherworldly soundscape of Suno AI, and visual aesthetics, including a striking promotional poster, which were crafted using Mid Journey. The result is a seamless blending of cutting-edge technology and artistic vision, creating a multisensory experience that feels both futuristic and deeply human.

Despite its heavy reliance on technology, The Lying Flat 2.0 never loses its emotional centre. The performers engage directly with the audience, creating moments of vulnerability and introspection. The questions pose about life, death, and the search for meaning linger long after the performance ends. A sense of shared intimacy emerges, as if the audience and performers have embarked together on a journey of discovery.
The Lying Flat 2.0 is not a production for those seeking traditional storytelling or familiar theatrical tropes. Wang Chong has crafted an experience that makes it impossible for the audience to remain passive; he asks them to confront life’s most profound questions while lying flat, both literally and metaphorically.
For some, such a light-hearted approach might seem incongruous with the gravity of personal loss. Still, The Lying Flat 2.0 captures the spirit of its creator; thus, it is bold, self-aware, and unafraid to tackle big questions with humour and passion. It may not provide all the answers, but it definitely leaves the audience with substance that is both thoughtful and amusing.
Werther: Goethe Gets a Fresh Coat of Paint
Goethe’s classic play, Werther, undergoes a playful, modern twist in this lively adaptation, performed by The Nanjing University Yesoo Company and directed by Sebastian Kaiser of Germany. Overflowing with youthful energy, the production strips the story down and asks: does Werther, with his heartbreak and ultimate despair, still speak to the contemporary world? The answer is a resounding yes, with a few surprises along the way.

From start to finish, this version of Werther embraces controversy; the play dismisses convention and introduces choral interludes, queer aesthetics and bursts of postmodern flair. At times the production feels like a hotchpotch of theatrical experiments, and not all of them succeed, but what it lacks in polish is compensated for with passion. Kaiser as the lead actor delivers a raw, vulnerable performance, embodying both the romantic spirit of Goethe’s original and the restless energy of contemporary youth. The final twist in the production replaces Werther’s tragic death with the presentation of a tender Chinese poem, followed by a joyful onstage dance party. This unexpected but touching innovation reframes Werther’s melodrama as celebratory rather than crushing. The cast, dancing freely to a pop anthem, seems to declare that love, in all its messiness, is still worth the pain and struggle.

Flawed as it may be, yet full of potential, this adaptation of Werther feels like a love letter to youthful creativity: it is messy, bold and undeniably alive.
In Medea Res – A Love Story Beyond Words
In Medea Res, by the Austrian group Liquid Loft, choreographers Chris Haring, Hannah Timbrell, Dong Uk Kim, along with director Chris Haring, draw the spectator into a world where every element – dance, dialogue, video art and light – merge into one fluid experience. This is more than theatre; indeed, it is an artistic ritual that dives into the primal forces of love and transformation. Rather than offering a straightforward reinterpretation of Euripides’ classic tragedy, the performance delves into associative fragments of the Medea myth, creating a compelling juxtaposition with our present male-dominated, logocentric digital civilization.
Central to the play are two performers, Hannah Timbrell and Dong Uk Kim, who navigate the stages of love, symbolized by surreal, insect-like headpieces. These strange yet mesmerizing props create an otherworldly atmosphere, while the performers constantly shift between shaping and being shaped by the set. The production blurs the line between narrative and pure emotion, inviting the audience to experience its poetic journey. Every detail in In Medea Res feels intentional, from its minimalist design to the physicality of the performers. Bypassing grand gestures, the performance instead foregrounds those quiet moments which together create a deeply profound awareness. By the end of the performance, the spectator has a grasped that which is deeply human: raw, sincere and unforgettable.
Straddling the line between performance art and media installation, the project provides an associative experience of transformation that is both visually and sonically immersive. The constantly morphing landscape of objects and projections becomes an extension of Medea herself, her garment evolving and even approaching the point of becoming a second skin.
The soundscape further enhances this immersive experience, creating an almost cybernetic environment where cameras, projectors, and intricate light and sound systems operate in synchronized feedback loops (Composition/Sound concept: Andreas Berger, Light Design/Scenography: Thomas Jelinek, Sound Objects/Artistic Equipment: Patrizia Ruthensteiner, Voice/Text Recordings: Dante Murillo, Anna Maria Nowak, Luke Baio.)
This technological integration serves as a metaphor for the interconnectedness and complexity of modern existence, mirroring the fragmented yet cohesive narrative structure. Liquid Loft’s bold reinterpretation invites audiences to engage with the Medea myth in a way that is both intimate and expansive. By eschewing a linear storyline in favour of an associative collage, the performance encourages a personal journey of meaning-making. It is a thought-provoking experience that resonates with contemporary issues while honouring the timeless nature of myth.
En attendant Godot: Beckett in a New Frame
Yi Liming’s adaptation of Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot shakes up the traditional staging of the play, blending existential depth with visual provocation. His production not only puts the play on stage but also takes apart its core themes and builds them back up in starkly contemporary terms. Known both as a director and a celebrated stage designer, Yi’s dual expertise shines through in every carefully thought-out detail, shaping a space that comes across as both barren and symbolically rich.

En attendant Godot reimagines Beckett’s classic through an artistic lens, placing the characters in a garage-turned-theatre where the audience becomes part of the action. Handed markers as they enter, viewers are encouraged to doodle on walls and floors, creating a chaotic backdrop for the existential musings of Vladimir and Estragon. The performance leans into a mix of vaudeville and folk comedy, blending humour and tragedy into a seamless act. The setting, a gallery filled with surreal props such as a flickering tree on a TV screen and a bidet, recreates Beckett’s sparse world as a vibrant playground. By repeating certain lines until they lose meaning, the production emphasized the futility of existence while maintaining visual and emotional engagement with Huang Kai as Vladimir (Didi), Zhang Yiman as Estragon (Dogo), Huang Chengcheng as Pozzo, Xu Qixu as Lucky, and Alston Wu as the Boy.

Yi’s production furthermore carries a profound sense of ritual. The sparse, fragmented dialogue overlaps and crosses paths deliberately and chaotically. Yet, every mention of Godot is carefully marked with a sense of ceremony, no matter how understated the staging may seem. This thoughtful rhythm builds up the tension between presence and absence that runs through the play. As the audience waits it out alongside Dogo and Didi, the shared frustration and emptiness reach a culmination, reinforcing Beckett’s unrelenting focus on the human condition. What distinguishes this version of Waiting for Godot from others is that it connects Beckett’s timeless absurdity to a modern context. Industrial imagery and steel crosses point to a contemporary spiritual crisis, one grounded in a world where traditional beliefs keep fading away.

En attendant Godot strikes a perfect balance between honouring and boldly reinterpreting Beckett’s vision. It is clever, thought-provoking and deeply resonant, demonstrating that even in a new temporal context, Beckett’s questions about existence are still relevant.

*Grigorios Ioannidis is an Associate Professor in the Theatre Studies Department at the University of Athens, Greece. He also serves as the Coordinator of the Creative Dramatic Writing Postgraduate Program at the Hellenic Open University. His academic background includes a Diploma in Electrical Engineering from the National Technical University of Athens (NTUA), a BSc in Theatrical Studies from the University of Athens, and two M.A. degrees, one in the History and Philosophy of Science and Mathematics, King’s College London, the other in Theatrology, University of Athens. Ioannidis also has a PhD from the Theatre Department, University of Athens.
Copyright © 2025 Grigorios Ioannidis
Critical Stages/Scènes critiques, #31, June 2025
e-ISSN: 2409-7411
This work is licensed under the
Creative Commons Attribution International License CC BY-NC-ND 4.0.
