Photo by 吴一苇

Note from Kuang:

跟鹰是在一个行为艺术表演上认识的，他跳舞的时候是完全忘我的状态，就像他自己说的，跳舞和不跳舞的时候完全是两个人。他的舞蹈，自由，随性，有种强大的内在力量。

I got to know Ying at a performance art show, where the freedom and expression in his dancing really struck me.


   

   

Yu Jinying, thirty-something, from Guangdong

I was born and grew up on a small island in Guangdong. I’m probably the only dancer from there.

I’m the middle kid of three children in my family. I often ran away from school, and my parents were too busy working to pay me much attention. Before the age of eighteen, I didn’t know a thing about dancing, certainly never dreamt of becoming a professional dancer.

At one point I followed some of Michael Jackson’s videos and imitated his moves. My elder brother saw some talent in me, so he decided to send me to learn dancing.

He brought me to a technical secondary school that offers dancing courses in the nearest city. The dancing teacher showed me to the dance studio, where a group of people were practicing wearing tights. I was a shy kid, guess it has something to do with living on a small island—I’d never been to the city before. I lowered my head, even too shy to really look at them.

The age of eighteen is a relatively late beginning for a professional dancer. All my classmates had been learning since they were young. The first several months were very tough for me. The stretching brought a lot of pain to my body. After a few months, I began to really enjoy dancing, and became less shy. I would happily show off some of my dancing in front of people when I went back to the island from school.

I stayed at the school practicing basic skills for a year before transferring to a training college in Beijing that didn’t require high gaokao scores.

It was in Beijing that I got to know modern dancing. I immediately fell in love with it, and soon did nothing but sleep, eat, and practice. I kept training so hard for two years that I made rapid progress. I applied for a modern dancing troupe, and to my delight and surprise, I got recruited.

This was one of the leading modern dance troupes in China. Many thought I was very lucky to get recruited after such a short time with dance. Good luck sure plays its role, but I think God treats us fairly. I know better than anyone else how much time and hard work I spent to get where I am today. I used two full years trying to catch up with those long-time dancers, and I closed the gap.

Though it was a leading dance troupe and we got to tour in and outside of China, we didn’t make a fortune. We were paid 3,000 kuai monthly, a salary that could barely support us in Beijing. We were often strapped for cash. Things in 2015 and 2016 were especially grim.

My parents supported me more after they saw my enthusiasm for dancing. I visit my home island once a year. I never complained to them no matter what I’ve been through. They have no idea the hardship I’ve had here.

In early 2018, I founded my own troupe. It’s a small group, only four of us. We can’t afford a proper place, so in the beginning we literally danced wherever there was some space, be it in a neighborhood, on the street, under overpasses. People living nearby watched us curiously and asked what type of kungfu we were practicing.

Later a friend kindly lent us his workshop to practice. His workshop is located outside of the sixth ring so it isn’t covered by public heating. We persisted practicing over ten hours per day despite Beijing’s minus-ten-degree temperatures. Even when all four of us came down with colds, we got IV drips in the daytime, and at night we put on fever strips and kept practicing.

Why be so hard on ourselves? Because we know what we are doing and what we want. I pretty much own nothing right now—all my expenses go to support the troupe. Even the money to buy my three meals I borrow from friends. But it’s when I own nothing that I know for sure what I want in my life. And it’s also because I own nothing that I dare to risk everything.

Our troupe had our debut performance this April. Nobody knows how much work it meant for us to put on the show. But I don’t see it as a hardship. Dancing is the most important thing in my life. To me, it’s also something sacred. The second I take off my shoes and step on the dancing mat, I’m not me anymore. I’m something else.

Everyone is spending, no, consuming their life in their own way. It’s just not everyone is lucky enough to be happy with the way they consume it. I’m lucky to have found dancing in my life. My love for dancing will never be exhausted. The end can only come after death. After I’m gone, then it can end.

You never know what’s out there for you. I can’t imagine my life if I never started learning dancing. I probably would spend my whole life on my small island, having a life as plain as water there.

Edited by David Huntington

余锦鹰，30未满，广东人

我在广东的一个小岛上出生长大，这么多年，我大概是我们岛上唯一一个跳舞的人。

我家里兄弟三个，我排行老二，从小不爱学习，玩腻了才会去学校教室上课。那时候父母忙，也没什么空管我。我18岁之前对舞蹈一无所知，从来没想过有一天能走上跳舞这条路。

偶然的一次，我跟着视频模仿迈克尔·杰克逊跳舞，我哥看到，觉得我有点天分，便主张送我去市里的一个中专艺校学跳舞。接待我们的老师把我带到舞蹈教室，推开门大家都穿着紧身舞蹈衣。我从小在岛上生活，性格内向，一见就脸红低下了头，不好意思抬头看他们。

18岁对于专业跳舞的人来说起步太晚，很多同学都是从小学的。刚开始的几个月，我吃了很多苦，因为我骨头已经长硬了，很多拉伸动作都很痛。练了几个月之后，我开始打心眼里喜欢上了跳舞，性格也开朗了很多，回岛上会得意地展示我在学校学到的一些舞蹈动作。

我作为插班生，在中专跟着练了一年的基本功，之后入学了北京一个职业舞蹈学院。

来了北京，我才接触到现代舞，一接触之后便疯狂地爱上了，除了吃饭睡觉就是在排练室跳舞。我进步很快，两年之后，偶然的机会看到一个舞团招聘，我抱着试一试的心态申请，居然应聘上了。

这个舞团是国内顶尖的现代舞团，有些人觉得我才学舞两三年就能加入，太幸运了，我不否认幸运占了一部分因素，但是我觉得老天是公平的，只有我知道自己背后付出了多少努力和时间，我在用两年时间来追别人的十年，我追上了。

虽然这个舞团非常好，可是跳舞在国内一直就是个乞丐行业，我们各地演出，一个月才能拿3000块钱的工资，养活自己都很难，15和16这两年日子过得尤其黑暗。

父母看到我这么执着，还是挺支持我的。我一年才回一次老家，生活的困难我从来没跟他们提过，他们并不知道我过得这么拮据。

18年初我组建了一个自己的舞团，舞团很小，加上我就四个人。我们刚开始连排练的地方都没有，哪里有空地，我们就在哪里跳舞。小区里，街道边，高架桥下，附近的居民看到我们会好奇地上前聊天，问我们练的是什么武功。

后来一个朋友把他的一个工作室借给我们用，工作室在六环，没有暖气，北京冬天零下十几度，我们冻得头皮发麻，还是坚持一天练习十几个小时。到后来我们四个人都感冒了，白天打点滴，晚上贴着退烧贴练习。

为什么这么拼？因为我们太清楚我们要干嘛了，所以生病也在顶着。我现在可以说是一无所有，我所有的费用，包括吃饭的钱都是借的。只有在一无所有的时候，我才知道我想要的是什么，也是因为一无所有才有胆量去做，因为没有什么可以失去的。

我们舞团四月份首演，没有人知道为了这几十分钟的演出，我们背后付出了多少汗水和心血。但是我不觉得辛苦，跳舞是我生命里最重要的事情。跳舞对于我来说也是一件很神圣的事情，跳舞和不跳舞的时候，我完全是两个人，一旦脱了鞋子，踏上这块跳舞的橡胶垫，我就不再是我了。

每个人都在以自己的方式消耗生命，只是不是所有人都能找到自己热爱的方式，幸运的是我找到了。跳舞这条路对于我来说没有竭尽，竭尽就是死亡的那一天，没有生命往下走了，才是竭尽。

如果没有舞蹈，我无法想象我的人生会怎么样，可能在老家, 结婚生子，过着跟大部分当地人一样平淡如水的生活。


   

   

The cover picture shows Ying and his troupe in their debut. Follow them on WeChat (ID: Ying-Dance-Theatre) to learn about their future performances.

Kuang is the founder of Beijing Lights. She would love to hear your thoughts about the column and is open to new collaborations. She can be reached at kuang@spittooncollective.com.