The Princess and Her Magic Fan: Peking Opera in a New Light
Taiwan’s GuoGuang Opera Company, in collaboration with two theatres in France, blends holographic technology with Peking opera, casting new light on this time-honoured tradition.
Sense of Wander: ★★★★☆
In this scene, as Sun Wukong sets out on his first attempt to visit the Princess in her cave, the blending of reality — the two actors on stage — and the virtual — a holographic projection — becomes clear. Image courtesy of Guoguang Opera Company.
TAIPEI, Taiwan — My dear readers may know that, thanks to my late grandfather, I was introduced to Taiwanese opera — also known as Gezai opera — before I could even write my own name.
It wasn’t until more than two decades later, while pursuing postgraduate studies in London, that I joined the SOAS Jingkun Society and began practicing this art form through singing and stylised movement. That experience rekindled my early passion and taught me to see Chinese opera not only as performance but as an intricate art, shaped by centuries of tradition and emotion.
Over the past decade, I’ve attended dozens — if not hundreds — of Chinese opera productions, from London to China, Hong Kong, and Taiwan. In recent years, I’ve also witnessed the blossoming of a wide spectrum of genres within the Chinese opera tradition.
While Peking and Kun opera are the most widely recognised, it’s worth noting that the broader tradition encompasses 348 regional styles, as recorded in a 2015 consensus. Among them, Bangzi opera from Henan and Wu Opera from Zhejiang have deepened my appreciation for its diversity.
Within these rich traditions, I’ve found myself particularly drawn to the work of Taiwan’s Guoguang Opera Company. Renowned for blending traditional Chinese opera with contemporary aesthetics and technology, GuoGuang has pioneered what’s often described as “Taiwanese Jingju Aesthetics.” This approach, led by Artistic Director An-Chi Wang, is not only visual — with modern stagecraft and design — but also psychological, delving into the inner world of the characters. This focus marks a breakthrough in an operatic tradition where emotions have long be expressed through stylised movements and codified gestures.
This artistic vision is observed in the troupe’s recent works, including The Golden Cangue, Journey Through Hell, and Three People, Two Lamps. And this year, GuoGuang ventured even further, collaborating with Théâtre Nouvelle Génération in Lyon and Théâtre Silvia Monfort in Paris — two French institutions known for their boundary-pushing theatrical innovation. The result: The Princess and Her Magic Fan, staged earlier this month at the Taiwan Traditional Theatre Centre in Taipei.
The Princess and her fan, which has the power to extinguish the Flaming Mountain. Image courtesy of Guoguang Opera Company.
The Princess and Her Magic Fan draws inspiration from Journey to the West, a 16th-century Chinese literary classic. The story follows the Monkey King, Sun Wukong, who, after wreaking havoc across the sea, the underworld, and the havens, is tasked with accompanying the monk Tang Sanzang on a journey westward to retrieve Buddhist scriptures. They face numerous obstacles along the way — one of them being the Flaming Mountain, which they must find a way to cross.
This adaptation begins not in historic China, but in the bedroom of Olivia, a young French girl troubled by the world around her and frightened by the night. To soothe her, her mother reads from Journey to the West. As Olivia drifts into sleep, the stage — until then a holographic projection of her room — begins to dissolve into another world: inside a cave where the Princess dreams of her son, Red Boy, being subdued by Guanyin, the Goddess of Mercy.
Awakening from her dream, the Princess is consumed by resentment and plots revenge by crafting a fake fan for Sun Wukong. Before we know it, the holographic Princess has given way to a live performer, whose stylised movement recall those of traditional theatre.
As Sun Wukong confronts the Princess, we witness a duel where reality and illusion blur. The cave around them transforms with the aid of holographic projection that constantly shifts perspectives — sometimes near, sometimes distant — drawing the audience deeper into the drama.
Sun’s first attempt to borrow the fan fails, as he is swept away by its force. In his second attempt, he sends a doppelgänger — brought to life through holography and live actors onstage — to defeat her. The Princess, though defeated, offers him the fake fan. When he uses it, the flame only spread further, engulfing nearby villages.
What follows then is totally unexpected: the burning stage dissolves into scenes of real-world crises: climate change, forest fires, the Ukraine–Russia war, and the Israel–Palestine conflict. The Princess now walks among the audience, physically present in the auditorium. Holding a glowing Earth in one hand, her facial expressions and gestures convey inner conflict and unease. The Princess admits that, though she knows the harm she has caused, she cannot release her anger.
The Princess is defeated at the hands of Sun Wukong’s doppelganger. Image courtesy of Guoguang Opera Company.
In a final effort, Sun Wukong returns — this time transforming into a tiny fly that enters the Princess’s body and stirs her from within. She then surrenders the real fan.
What follows is a moment of revelation: Sun and the Princess share their deepest thoughts. Sun admits that the fire on the mountain began with him —five hundred years ago, when he accidentally tipped over a heavenly furnace. He pleads with the Princess to destroy the fake fan, let go of her resentment, and use the real one to quell the flames. He reassures her, too, that her child is now safe with Guanyin.
Holding a glowing Earth in her hand, the Princess stands torn between her resentment and the damage she has brought upon the world. Image courtesy of Guoguang Opera Company.
Olivia challenges her father, asking why his expertise as an aerospace engineer aren’t used to help make the world a better place. Image courtesy of Guoguang Opera Company.
My favourite part of the play is a poignant scene where Olivia confronts her father, questioning why, as an aerospace engineer, he has chosen to develop military aircraft instead of using his skills to make the world a better place. It’s a moment that invites everyone in the audience to reflect: does our reality truly align with our purpose? Can we serve the world in ways that foster peace and harmony?
In the final scene, Sun Wukong, his doppelgänger, and the Princess appear in Olivia’s bedroom — transformed from a holographic projection into a tangible stage set — reading a book about a better future.
The play closes with Olivia and her parents at a press conference. Her father unveils a new invention aimed at benefiting humanity, while Olivia shares the courage it took to take that first step toward changing a chaotic world.
In the final scene, Olivia’s bedroom — projected throughout the performance — transforms into a real stage set, blurring the line between virtual and reality. Image courtesy of Guoguang Opera Company.
Though the production runs only 60 minutes — a contrast to GuoGuang’s typical Peking opera performances, which often span 90 to 160 minutes — the experience is no less powerful.
The narrative itself breaks new ground. Rather than restaging a familiar plot, the creative team offers a fresh perspective on this beloved classic tale. In the original novel, there was no fake fan. Here, the fan becomes a metaphor for technology — capable of healing or harming, depending on the conscience of its wielder. Sun’s repentance and the Princess’s eventual release of resentment also embody the core of Taiwanese Jingju Aesthetics, which seeks to explore the characters’ emotional landscapes.
What truly sets this production apart, however, is the integration of holography. Pre-recorded European actors appear onstage as ghostly presences, blending with the live performers in a way that feels remarkably natural. The technique, rooted in the 19th-century Pepper’s Ghost illusion, is expertly adapted by Théâtre Nouvelle Génération to create an immersive theatrical experience.
The result is more than a fusion of East and West — it’s a convergence of realities. At some point, the audience no longer distinguishes between what is real and what is virtual. It all flows together.
I feel incredibly fortunate to have witnessed this cross-cultural collaboration, which reimagines the potential of Chinese opera through holographic theatre — something I never thought I’d see.
For those interested, The Princess and Her Magic Fan will travel to France this October, with performances at Théâtre Nouvelle Génération in Lyon and Théâtre Silvia Monfort in Paris. Stay tuned!
Reference:
Program notes for The Princess with Her Magic Fan. August 1-3, 2025, Taiwan Traditional Theatre Centre, Taipei.
The Princess and Her Magic Fan was staged at the Taiwan Traditional Theatre Centre in Taipei from August 1 to 3, 2025. This October, the production will travel to France, with performances at the Théâtre Nouvelle Génération in Lyon and the Théâtre Silvia Monfort in Paris.