JIANGSU, East China — Yu Xiuhua is no stranger to controversy. The farmer-turned-poet has spent years redefining perceptions of disability in China with her raunchy, often expletive-laden verse about living — and loving — with cerebral palsy.

Now, the 48-year-old is ruffling feathers once again — by taking to the stage as a dancer.

On Nov. 15, Yu debuted her new show “Ten Thousand Tons of Moonlight” in Shanghai, a production that fuses her poetry with contemporary dance and visual design.

A collaboration with the renowned British dance producer Farooq Chaudhry, the show featured two professional dancers that embody Yu’s reflections on love and beauty, as well as an actor who portrays the darker side of her inner world.

But the star turn was Yu herself, performing a solo dance in which she symbolized a bird yearning to take flight.

The show has already divided opinion in China — but Yu is used to that. Originally from a small village in the central Hubei province, she has been defying expectations ever since she published the poem that made her famous: 2014’s “Crossing Half of China to Sleep With You.”

Yu’s verse was a revelation to many in China, where people with disabilities are often stereotyped as asexual, tragic figures. Passionate, lust-filled, and often crude, her poetry is an unapologetic exploration of her own desire.

And Yu has been equally outspoken in her personal life. In recent years, she has repeatedly become the focus of media attention: leaving her first husband, whom she said she did not love, before publicly accusing her second husband of domestic violence.

Her bold style has drawn plenty of pushback from conservatives in China, but none of it has fazed her. Her latest project confronts her physical disability even more directly, as the vast stage makes her body seem somehow smaller and frailer.

Audience members at the dress rehearsal on Nov. 14 appeared moved by what they had seen. “She doesn’t seem to feel she’s inadequate,” one person said.

“Her inner world seems even more passionate than that of many physically healthy people,” said another. “It’s actually us who lack that kind of passion, and she certainly shows greater courage.”

It was precisely Yu’s “honesty” that first captivated Chaudhry, the co-founder and producer of the well-known Akram Khan Company. He discovered Yu’s poetry through an article in The New York Times, which described her as the “Emily Dickinson of China.”

“It absolutely fired me up and brought out such powerful emotions,” Chaudhry told a press conference on Oct. 27. “Yu Xiuhua’s poetry has this true genius of being able to say the most complicated things in a simple way.”

In September 2023, Yu agreed to spend a week with Chaudhry and rehearsal director Su-Man Hsu in Yu’s home village in Hubei, to explore the potential of creating a show based on her physical expression.

“I had nothing else to do, so I thought, why not try it?” Yu told reporters on Nov. 14. “I wasn’t born to dance. I’m here to satisfy my curiosity.”

But the experience proved to be a revelation for Yu. Previously, her only exposure to dance had come from viral videos of figure skating and “a 100-kilogram woman dancing” that she had seen online, she said.

In late September, the first workshop took place on a small island off the coast of eastern China’s Zhejiang province. Yu joined two dancers and an actor for two weeks of improvisation.

Yu’s poetry was translated into English, then interpreted into sign language, which Hsu further transformed into dance. These improvised movements then gradually evolved into the final choreography.

“We’re not trying to explore perfection — perfection is boring,” said Chaudhry. “We’re trying to explore imperfection because that’s where the true power of a human being exists.”

During the workshop, Yu became increasingly moved by the art of dance, even spontaneously dancing at a party on the island. She later wrote a poem for the dancers: “She pulls fragments of herself from the grindstone / from disability / she draws forth a self that dances lightly.” The lines ultimately became part of the show.

For Yu, the show was a daunting physical challenge. During rehearsals, mastering even the simplest movements required countless repetitions. But Yu’s collaborators, dancers Dong Jilan and Li Kehua, said they took joy in these moments, the two responding to Yu’s sincerity.

“There are dancers with perfect physical abilities and great technique that don’t move me,” said Dong. “Yu has a raw authenticity. Her movements may look simple, but they are deeply touching.”

Yu’s frankness about her physical limitations often surprises those around her. At the media conference, she gave short shrift to anyone who framed her dancing in “lofty terms.”

When her agent Hu Tao remarked that the media “shouldn’t judge her by conventional dance standards,” Yu quickly interjected: “You’re just giving me an excuse for not dancing well.”

“I can’t do anything perfectly, so what does it matter? No big deal,” she added, prompting laughter from the room.

When a reporter asked if she had discovered new possibilities in her body through dance, Yu replied without hesitation: “Definitely not. I just wish I could die sooner and get a new body.”

For Chaudhry, Yu’s frankness has been invaluable. “Her humor has created a space where we can be brave, try new things, and not worry about looking foolish or judging ourselves,” he said.

Yu also shrugs off criticism of her “side projects” beyond poetry. For her, dancing and filming commercials are simply parts of life.

“I say poetry is about life — without life, there’s no poetry,” she remarked. “Their criticism is just their view … their advice has no effect on me.”

After the premiere in Shanghai, Chaudhry hopes to bring Yu’s poetry to a wider global audience, with plans for a world tour in 2025–2026.

“I think her poetry is universal; it speaks to everyone, not just China,” he said.

(Header image: Yu Xiuhua dances on the stage, November 2024. Li Yijian/Fengling Productions)