Sunday, January 1, 2012

BEAUTY AND THE RAIN

Shen Yun Performing Arts



By Dinorah Pérez-Rementería


It is a cold and rainy Saturday and we arrive at Jones Hall fifteen minutes after the performance has started. Apparently, the rain became an obstacle for us today, producing an inconvenient, heavy traffic on the freeway toward the Downtown area. Oh, but I do like the rain. In fact, I find it beautiful, and it soothes me when I feel overwhelmed by sorrows, or work, or thoughts. I believe real beauty generates a calming, comforting effect, for it simply offers itself as it is, like the rain. As we take the stairs that lead to the auditorium, I can perceive my mom’s accelerated breathing. We all feel a little upset because we didn’t make it on time for the beginning of the show in spite of having been expectantly waiting for it for almost three months. And yet, I know that a beautiful production awaits a few steps away that will remind us how enjoyable life was meant to be.  
Brilliant colors, graceful movements and tender smiles generously rain on stage while a large screen displays a Chinese landscape behind the “water sleeves.” A major element in classical Chinese dance, “water sleeves” serve to enlarge a dancer’s arms, swinging and spinning in the air even after the movement has ceased. An abundant harvest is proclaimed and celebrated. Expert in the arts and architecture, the Qiang people, one of China’s most legendary ethnic groups rejoice at a sudden vision of (abun)dance for the years to come. Countless flower petals and butterfly wings mix up together; snow flakes announce the birth of spring. We also see the Monkey King jumping in and out of the big screen, whereas jubilant monks scrub the floors -and each other’s back- in the temple of peace. Bit by bit, my mom’s breathing has calmed down. “Qué belleza,” she says, in a soft voice that only I get to hear.
Created in New York in 2006, Shen Yun Performing Arts is made up of dancers, choreographers and musicians in a mission to revive and refresh their Chinese cultural background. The term “Shen Yun” invites us to associate heavenly beauty with the colorful gestures of an earthly dancer fulfilling his “calling.” Shen Yun dancers seem to have been called to transmit beauty by means of rescuing their national heritage. Meeting our calling is, without a doubt, a significant event in our lives because it reveals the purposes for which we have been designed and that connect to our actual passions, desires and dreams.
But, when one fulfills her calling free of charge, one really experiences the fullness of life. No matter how many obstacles and inconveniences we may face along the way, there can still be found in us a deeper pleasure, the pleasure of God, the immeasurable joy of having him near. Being called to experience, not artificial but authentic, Beauty (mercy, compassion, and grace) is in and for itself a rewarding occurrence and, at the same time, the enterprise of offering it for nothing requires of us a lot of courage. One of my teenage students asked me the other day: “Do you cry at home, sometimes?” Yes, dear, we all cry; some people simply choose to hide their tears. I am glad that my students have already seen me happy, sad, and even very, very mad. I’ve laughed with them, but I have also given them a piece of my mind in several occasions.
Offering beauty is a considerably risky project as we are never given the guarantee ahead of time that what we present will be in fact well-received or whether it will make a difference in a person’s life. Beauty calls upon many but only the available ones will respond to the invitation. I am not saying that it doesn’t produce satisfaction when people confirm that what we can offer has some value, but let’s remember our true calling is to experience and to nourish ourselves again and again from that very splendid resource which has been lavishly supplied to us, like the rain, so that we don’t feel frustrated if we are to share it with others for free.


Happy New Year!



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