Stirring Up Drama

Musical fans in China have affectionately nicknamed it the “Chive Building,” and jokingly refer to themselves as “theater chives.”　

The terms come from the internet slang ge jiucai, meaning “harvesting chives.” Generally pejorative, it is used to describe small investors or consumers being taken advantage of repeatedly. It makes more sense if you know a little about gardening: As chives regrow quickly with minimal care, they can be harvested many times in a season.　

However, musical fans have adopted it as a term of endearment – they spend money on tickets over and over again, willingly and enthusiastically.　

With a fan base like that, it’s no wonder musical theater is growing into a trendy and accessible form of entertainment for Chinese youth. According to a 2023 report by the China Association of Performing Arts, 72 percent of theater audiences are aged 18 to 34. Musical theater audiences skew even younger – 40 percent are under 25.　

“Theatergoing has become a lifestyle,” said Han Kun, founder of the production company Focustage and producer of Mia Famiglia, the most popular musical staged in the Asia Building. From Han’s perspective, the rise of musicals in China is fueled by a shared desire among creators, performers, and audiences to build a kind of escape from mundane reality.　

“The biggest drive for me to make a show now is to bring audiences happiness and create a pure, safe haven for them,” Han said.

“Every time I walk around People’s Square, I immediately recognize other musical fans like me,” Xiao said. “Some hand out flyers for shows on the street, and others carry tote bags with phrases like ‘another musical?!’ printed on them.”　

Without a doubt, Shanghai has become China’s musical theater capital.　

According to the 2024 Annual Report on China’s Musical Market, jointly released by the China Association of Performing Arts and the ticketing platform Taopiaopiao, from January to October 2024, nearly 60 percent of all musical performances were staged in Shanghai. The city accounted for 56 percent of nationwide musical box office revenues, far ahead of Beijing’s 14 percent share.　

“I really envy audiences in Shanghai. Many overseas musicals only stop there, and a lot of domestic productions are staged exclusively in Shanghai too,” said 24-year-old musicals fan Hao Muzhi from Beijing. “This year, Japanese musical Spirited Away only visited Shanghai. If you want to see the original versions of Six, Kinky Boots or Les Misérables in China, your only option is to book a flight to Shanghai.”　

Many Chinese musicals never show outside the city. “Last year, I really wanted to see a Chinese musical called B for Busy. It was highly praised on social media, but only performed in Shanghai. The story takes place in the city and includes a lot of dialogue in the Shanghainese dialect,” Hao said.　

As a result, jetting into to Shanghai to catch shows has become a growing trend, with some diehard fans flying in monthly. They call it “taking a flying taxi to a show.”　

Another trend involves students or working people who arrive in Shanghai on Friday, binge-watch seven or eight shows over the weekend, and fly home Sunday evening. Some theaters even offer luggage storage for out-of-town fans.　

Shanghai has also drawn theater talent from across the country.　

Actor Sang Kezhou is one of China’s early professional musical performers. Raised in Beijing, he joined the industry after graduating from the National Academy of Chinese Theater Arts in 2012. Until 2021, he primarily worked in Beijing, performing in well-known Chinese musicals such as The Piano in a Factory and Long March.　

In 2021, Sang was invited to join the Shanghai-based production of The Long Night. He arrived with just a backpack, thinking he would return to Beijing after rehearsals. But by the end of the year, he had rented an apartment in Shanghai.　

“I felt that as a musical actor, your schedule can be completely booked here,” Sang told NewsChina. “While I was performing The Long Night, another musical, The Novel, invited me to join. After that, a small theater production approached me right away... By the end of 2021, I decided to settle in this city.”　

The thriving musical scene in Shanghai reminded Sang of the vibrant small-theater scene in Beijing around 2010. Back then, Beijing saw a boom in original productions like I’m Not Li Bai and Mr. Donkey.　

Many were staged at the Nine Theater in the capital’s Chaoyang Culture Center building which opened in 2004. Named after its nine performance spaces, it closely resembles today’s Asia Building in both structure and spirit.　

Over the past three years, Sang has averaged about 130 performances annually. “If I were Superman with unlimited energy, I could perform every single day, because in Shanghai, the musical opportunities are endless,” he said.　

Zhang Zhilin, founder and CEO of production company Muse Musicals, emphasized that Shanghai’s prominence does not mean other cities lack potential.　

“In recent years, many fans have taken a ‘flying taxi’ to Shanghai just to see musicals. That means the demand is real in other cities, but we just haven’t met it yet,” Zhang told NewsChina.

Since its debut on September 27, 2022, the show has been performed two to three times a week in the Asia Building, with six actors playing more than 30 characters. The cast varies completely from one performance to the next. Each of the six main characters has between two and six actors assigned to them, and the lineup is randomized each time.　

There is a popular saying among musical fans: “To change a cast is like to change a show.” In other words, the same musical can feel entirely new with a different cast. As a result, a unique “cast-collecting” culture has developed among young theatergoers who return to the same show again and again just to experience how different combinations of actors alter the story.　

Xiao has watched King’s Table 50 times, saying that every performance feels fresh. “This time you might see a more sensitive Olsen [the show’s protagonist], and next time, a more rational one. Different performers bring nuanced differences to the same character,” Xiao told NewsChina.　

Hao Muzhi shares Xiao Xin’s sentiment, though she doesn’t rewatch individual shows as frequently. “For me, the biggest charm of musicals is that they’re forever new. A film is a finished work, but a musical is endlessly evolving,” Hao said.　

That evolving nature also applies to the actors themselves. Many musical fans develop loyalty to specific performers and will follow their careers from show to show.　

Hao particularly admires Xu Junshuo, a 28-year-old musical actor who gained attention on the 2019 singing competition show Super-Vocal season two. Since 2021, she has followed his every performance, including the Chinese adaptations of Next to Normal and the Korean musicals Fan Letter and The Interview, as well as original Chinese productions like The Orphan of Zhao and The Wall.　

“I’ve watched him grow from a student at the Shanghai Conservatory of Music into a professional musical actor,” Hao told NewsChina. “His voice is deeper now, not as sweet, but more stable. His range has widened. If you watch his performances year by year, you can see his growth,” Hao said.

Short for “stage door,” SD is when fans gather outside the theater to wait for the actors after the show. There, they can chat with performers, give feedback and ask for autographs. Some arrive with letters or small gifts.　

Yang Yang, a 24-year-old fan from Shanghai, particularly enjoys this after-show tradition. For her, it’s a rare and cherished chance to connect with the actors and fellow fans.

　

“During SD, some actors might ask, ‘Did you notice I made some changes tonight?’ And if they weren’t in top form, they’ll apologize. I love that atmosphere. It makes me feel like the actors and audience are co-creating the performance,” Yang told NewsChina.　

“For me, the theater isn’t just a cold space for watching shows. It’s a medium for people to get close, talk and connect. Times have changed, but our craving for connection hasn’t,” she added.

　

Theater critic Yang Xiaoluan believes this kind of immersive experience and after-show interaction cultivates fan loyalty. In fact, she points out that many of today’s A-list actors first gained recognition through small-theater productions. “Audiences can witness the growth of young performers, and both sides develop a sense of companionship,” Yang said.　

Not all fans are drawn to the stage door.　

Gao Jie, 37, prefers a quieter, more reflective way to experience theater. A long-time enthusiast, she watches around 50 shows a year. As a freelance illustrator and mother of a 6-year-old, she sees theater as a “short, utopian escape” from her daily responsibilities.　

Her favorite musical is No Longer Human, a Chinese original adapted from Japanese writer Dazai Osamu’s novel of the same name. The show weaves together the author’s life story and that of his protagonist in a complex narrative.　

“I was astonished by how deep and philosophical it was,” Gao said. “It explores the relationship between a writer and a character he created. You can read into many deep layers – power dynamics, rebellion, father-son relationships, the creator and created.”　

Last year alone, Gao watched 27 plays, 24 musicals and three dance dramas. Theatergoing for her is a form of personal liberation.　

“Virginia Woolf said a woman needs a room of her own. For me, theater is that room outside the home. It’s where I feel fully myself,” she said.