Skip to main content

Day: 31 January 2017

Are letting agents doing enough for student tenants?

Written by Eliza Slawther on . Posted in Features.

Student houses are notoriously some of the worst in the country, with students themselves having a reputation for being poor tenants and neighbours. However, is it always the students who are to blame for the state of their living conditions?

Having experienced first-hand the frustration of living in a house with a multitude of problems such as damp, vermin infestations and broken appliances which went unresolved for long amounts of time — despite multiple attempts to contact my letting agency — I was left wondering whether my student renting experience was the exception or the rule. I expected that renting using a letting agent over a private landlord would be far easier, and that there would be a fixed standard in terms of the condition of the house and the ease of having issues resolved, but this was not the case.

After surveying a group of students from the universities in Manchester, I found that 75% of those who rented with letting agents were dissatisfied with how quickly their letting agency resolved any problems that they had. 58% experienced problems with mould and damp, and other problems such as the property being “dirty upon arrival”, leaks, holes, and infestations of vermin. Not only this, but a few of the students I spoke to found themselves in disputes over their tenancy rights, due to a variety of problems such as noise complaints and payment disputes.

Out of the overall number of students I surveyed, including those renting with private landlords and in halls of residence, over 90% had experienced problems in general with their accommodation. One student felt that overcrowding in their shared house was a problem, another described “exposed wires, leaking boiler” and “broken fire alarms”. Clearly, such problems pose an immediate health risk, and could result in a fire or flood. Not only are these living standards uncomfortable, they are also illegal. Despite this, my experience with speaking to students would suggest that the problems are often ignored and go unresolved.

Final year English Literature and Spanish student Danielle and her housemates found themselves handed a court order, which she claims the letting agency had no grounds for. Danielle has stated that “[the] court order was supposedly because no one had paid the deposit or first month of rent”, but this was apparently unfair on the tenants as it was not made clear to them how to pay their rent, despite their best efforts to contact the letting agency through “calls, emails, and visits in person”.

Danielle went on to explain that “[the letting agency] messed up the contract like two or three times and then when we asked about how to pay they just didn’t respond. Our parents called and we called and emailed and they were like “we’ll get back to you” and the next thing we know we’ve got a bloody court order”.

This all happened before she moved in, but the problems continued. Danielle has also had problems with “mould everywhere”, and a front door with a faulty lock, which the Landlord was “super hesitant” to fix, instead trying to place the blame on the tenants. Only after “kicking up a massive fuss” did the Landlord fix the lock on the front door. I asked Danielle exactly how long it took to fix the problem, and she stated that took around “two weeks”. She further added that she “felt like [her] safety was compromised as often we would come back from uni in the evening and the door would be wide open”, and went on to point out that the “the area [is] renowned for sex attacks and burglaries”, which added to her unease.

The role of the letting agency should be to ensure that problems are resolved quickly, and that either the agency or the landlord does not leave the house in a state of disrepair. The average renting price for student homes in Fallowfield is £70-85 pppw, and agencies often charge extra fees on top of this, with flat-rates for lost keys and damage, as well as fees for late paperwork.

Another student I spoke to, who is in his final year studying Law at the University of Manchester but wishes to remain anonymous, explained that he “thought using a letting agent would be much better than a private landlord”, but he found himself to be very much surprised by the poor service experienced. I asked what was particularly negative about his letting experience, and he described the main issue as having “mice in [his] house for weeks!”, going on to add that “every time we told them about it, it was as though we spoke a different language.”

I asked how he went about resolving these issues, and he told me that “for it to finally get resolved [he] had to call the office every day for a week and nag them. Every day for a week. That should not have happened.”

Would he consider renting with them again? “Absolutely not. I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy.”

I asked whether he feels that students bring problems such as vermin infestations upon themselves, and he replied with “No way. Why is it always students who are the scapegoats?”

I asked a group of students whether they would know how to file a complaint against their letting agent or landlord were they to be dissatisfied, and over 80% answered “no” or “unsure”, with one responding “inform the council?”. This in itself is as much as problem as the concrete issues with housing. According to Save The Student, “More often than we’re happy to admit, we hear stories of landlords taking advantage of young people’s lack of knowledge when it comes to their tenancy rights.”

Some rules and regulations tend to be well-adhered to by letting agents and landlords, such as the rule that tenants require a 24 hour notice period before visitation or inspection of the property. Other legalities are less clear cut, for instance it is difficult to know what exactly constitutes as prompt resolution of issues such as damp and broken appliances. Not only this, but actually involving the council can be a difficult task. Initially they will write to the letting agent or landlord, and provide a copy of this letter for the tenants, giving a set time frame for the landlord or letting agency to resolve the problem before further action will be taken. For students who are already suffering as a result of the state of their homes, this can be very unhelpful. Of course, the council cannot investigate every single claim they receive, but perhaps it would help to impose stronger measures against particular landlords or letting agencies whom they receive regular complains against. It seems that due to the relatively short time which students spend in one house, letting agencies can get away with leaving problems unresolved. As a student myself, I will admit that it is all too easy to accept a very poor standard of housing, rather than continually chase up problems when my contract will be over in a matter of months.

Vermin infestations are also difficult territory. Save The Student states that “When it comes to infestations of mice, rats, bedbugs and bats (yes, bats), you’ll be glad to know that it’s your landlord’s responsibility to sort them out (as long as it’s not your fault they’re there in the first place).” However, it can be difficult to prove when the infestation started and who is to blame. In terraced houses and flat blocks particularly vermin can move easily from house to house, so even the cleanest student houses can potentially become infested through no fault of the tenants. Mice can live off even a few crumbs of food, which further adds to the difficulty in finding a cause for the infestation.

However, there is hope for the lost and confused. Although most of the students I surveyed responded “No” when asked if they had used any housing advice services — and one student asking “where are they?” — several answered with “Manchester Student Homes”. Located in Fallowfield, Manchester Student Homes can not only advise you on your University accommodation, but also help you to find a property which is owned by a landlord accredited by them. They are owned and managed by the various Universities in Manchester, and their services are free.

Located in Fallowfield, Manchester Student Homes can not only advise you on your University accommodation, but also help you to find a property which is owned by a landlord accredited by them. They are owned and managed by the various Universities in Manchester, and their services are free.

Cooper Healey, the Manager of Manchester Student Homes has stated that “Manchester Student Homes runs a number of accreditation schemes for student landlords, and has hundreds of scheme registered landlords with thousands of student properties available in Manchester,” she further added that “to be part of our scheme, landlords and accommodation providers must commit to a high standard of property and tenant management, and we use feedback to ensure we only promote accredited landlords to our students. House-hunting students can also search our accredited database, have their contract checked and receive advice and guidance on housing and local Manchester communities.”

“If problems do arise at any stage of the searching or letting process – from disrepair to deposit disputes – Manchester Student Homes can help students, and conduct open and transparent investigations when code complaints are made. Students are advised to source their accommodation through our accredited providers.”

Despite reaching out to various letting agents for comment, asking whether they’d like to share their views on the matter and whether students are particularly difficult tenants, I received no response from any letting agency contacted.

Review: The Birth of a Nation

Written by Eloïse Wright on . Posted in Film.

Burning with rage and revenge, Nate Parker’s directorial debut The Birth of a Nation is immediately powerful through his choice of title, the same as D.W. Griffith’s Klu Klux Klan glorifying film from just over a century ago. However, it is a great shame that Parker’s questionable past of alleged rape has detracted from how the film has been received.

This story is the biopic of Nat Turner (Nate Parker), an African-American slave who initiated the pandemonium that was the 1830s rebellion he and his followers spread in Virginia, terrorising the pre-civil war South. As a child, Turner is taught how to read from the Bible and is made a house slave, a much less onerous form of slavery and essentially the lesser of two evils. Early on in the movie, the cotton plantation runs into financial problems when the owner dies leaving his wife Elizabeth Turner (Penelope Ann Miller) in charge. Due to this turn of events Elizabeth reluctantly transfers Nat to work in the cotton fields. We see the emotional turmoil young Nat experiences on his first day of labour; he can’t quite grasp why he is being forced to do this, yet he knows something is basically wrong.

The film next picks up Nat’s personal journey through slavery two decades later, the plantation is now owned by the son of Elizabeth and childhood friend of Nat, Samuel (Armie Hammer). He appears to have survived as well as any slave could, in spite of being a white man’s personal property and bearing that man’s surname which erases his own identity.

Nat’s knowledge of the Bible has put him in a more comfortable position compared to other slaves, made to deliver sermons for the neighbouring plantation slaves which ironically widens his first-hand experience of slavery. It is painfully clear that the basic human rights promised by the Constitution were in fact not intended for this lost population, uprooted and forced into a life devoid of meaning. The key moment in The Birth of a Nation is the shift in mind-set of Nat Turner. A more than heated disagreement occurs between himself, his master and a white reverend (Mark Boone Jr.), in which Nat attempts to reason with quotes from the Bible, only to be put down by the reverend’s choice of other biblical quotes. The argument ends in the kind of violence that is particular to the mindset of the white supremacist. It is in this moment Nat comes to the realisation that the Bible on its own is not going to change a thing. As a slave, this is an argument he will never win — he needs to act.

The rebellions that follow are of a raw vengefulness, unfiltered and violent. However, they are doomed to fail, lacking structure, organisation and most of all, power. We must not overlook that it is still only 1831, we’re still a long way even from Emancipation and the Civil Rights movement for equality of the 1960s. Nat Turner’s rebellion was an isolated first-step towards dealing with what was to become the biggest problem for 20th century America — the Color Line.

Review: Silence

Written by James Gill on . Posted in Film.

Seldom has a movie relied on the individual perspective of its audience more than Martin Scorsese’s latest release, Silence. This is a punishing film, both mentally (in its depictions of will-breaking torture) and physically — with an exhaustive 161 minute runtime. Perhaps my lack of faith prevents an emotional connection or perhaps it was intended as an extension of the on-screen trials, testing the limits of the most diehard Scorsese fans. What can be certain is that the film is a leap of faith, and one that very few will make.

Silence is the third in a series of religious features made by Scorsese following The Last Temptation of Christ and Kundun. Set initially and briefly in 1630’s Portugal, it tells the story of two Jesuit priests (Andrew Garfield and Adam Driver) and their journey to locate their mentor (Liam Neeson) after his alleged apostasy. They decide to travel to Japan, a country where Christianity is outlawed, armed with nothing more than religious talismans and the clothes on their backs. A test of faith? Or an example of the naivety of youth?

The movie’s imperfections are wholly distracting from potential immersion in the story. For example the three lead actors, of Canadian, American and Irish descent, find huge difficulty in replicating Latin accents. As a result, the most powerful scenes are those without words or without involving them at all. There is also an overly exaggerated sense of purity in the mission of the priests. The word of God must be spread throughout Japan, no matter how many must be tortured or killed in their name.

That being said, there are plenty of positives to be drawn. Scorsese teamed up with fantastic cinematographer Rodrigo Prieto, having worked previously on The Wolf of Wall Street, and the result is a visually stunning experience. There are plenty of scenes with great camera positioning and the use of overhead camerawork facilitates urgency as the Jesuit priests decide to, and then travel to Japan. Issey Ogata and Tadanobu Asano are both perfectly cast as the Inquisitor and the Interpreter respectively, showing wisdom and charisma far beyond that of their compatriots.

The beautiful locations used evoke wonder as they travel throughout Japan. Except it isn’t Japan, it is Taiwan. In a fictional work set in Japan, location of filming isn’t an important factor, however this is a non-fiction historical drama. Regardless of Ang Lee’s recommendations for setting, more respect should be paid to the source material in order to keep it as historically accurate as possible.

One cannot deny Scorsese’s deep catalogue of great movies. Sadly though this does not rank among them. He purposefully gives little away throughout the film, leaving you to your emotions but forgetting to evoke any. Silence is certainly not an experience for the masses, instead tailored probably for those who attend mass. Maybe the 25 year gestation period was too long for anything of real substance to survive.

Review: Passengers

Written by Danielle Kosky on . Posted in Film, Music.

Passengers is a film that had a lot of ambition and potential but unfortunately was so focused on becoming a commercial success that it completely failed to captivate and entertain its audience. Even with the help of major international stars Jennifer Lawrence and Chris Pratt, this film was destined to flop from the beginning.

The mildly interesting plot revolves around Jim Preston, a mechanic on the Avalon ship where there are 5,000 passengers in hibernation all on their way to colonise a new planet. However, Jim’s pod malfunctions and he is awakened 90 years too early. Confusingly Jim spends a year in isolation with only an android bartender (Michael Sheen) for company who simulates empathy. Things are meant to kick into action when Jim decides to wake up the beautiful and funny (more cringey than funny) Aurora. This action is meant to force us to question the ethics of this. Is it morally okay to essentially sentence someone to their death in order to save your own sanity? Almost definitely not. This premise could have been significantly more engaging and thought-provoking yet director Morten Tyldum shies away from exploring this further and instead focuses on the action and romance. Furthermore, this is highly suggestive of the disturbing trend that is still seen frequently in modern culture today; of the romanticisation of the manipulative male figure.

Whilst I admire and appreciate Jennifer Lawrence’s talent as an actress, in Passengers she was dull and overly dramatic. Despite many critics thinking that the two main stars worked well together, exhibiting great chemistry on screen, I’d have to strongly disagree with this as to me their chemistry seemed too forced. Writer Jon Spaihts attempts to give both characters some substance, however the total opposite is achieved. Instead both spend the majority of the film trying to look as attractive as possible whilst doing little else except engaging in boring flirtation alongside shagging and swimming. As a result there are no actual moments that successfully evoke any heartfelt emotion. There’s one scene where the captain of the ship has been awakened, once again due to a malfunction and not because Jim has grown bored of Aurora (as I would have done) and is in dire need of more company, and subsequently becomes very ill. The entire scene reeks of clichés and is laughably dramatic in what I believe is meant to be a sad and heart-wrenching scene.

Another flaw of the movie resides with the frustratingly unrealistic plot. Imagine this — a mechanic is able to deactivate a cryopod with little issues however he can’t get it up and running again? Seems illogical to me! It’s also quite amazing how many times Jim and Aurora died (mainly Aurora) but miraculously were brought back to life. Little thought seems to have been put into basic details which would have given the film some backbone and more spark.

The plot lacks substance which paired with a too ambiguous and clichéd narrative means that Passengers aims too high for what it is— a totally average film. This is definitely one to be missed.

2/5

Review: Sky Ladder – The Art of Cai Guo-Quiang

Written by James Gill on . Posted in Film.

The art of Cai Guo-Quiang is like a moment in time. A drop of creativity in the pool of conventionalism.

From humble beginnings in Zhangou, the historic origin of fireworks, Guo-Quiang’s father, Cai Ruiqin, was a highly respected calligrapher. A craft allowing for little personal expression, he found solace in books, regularly spending entire weekly salaries acquiring them to the detriment of his family. “It’s my fortune” he told his son, “and one day that will be yours, too”.

Sadly, that wasn’t to be, as a drastic new ideology was sweeping through China. Chairman Mao’s Cultural Revolution cleansed society of so-called bourgeois elements bleaching huge periods in history, paralysing the country politically and economically. A dangerous time for classical artists and musicians, Ruiqin was forced to burn his extensive collection of books and in turn watched his son’s future reduced to ash.

And it is from those very ashes that a phoenix rises, one symbolising the flourishing of art and culture through the 1980s, the true Cultural Revolution. A time for experimentation, to push the limits of what is possible. For Guo-Quiang, this was gunpowder. To essentially destroy a classical portrait through controlled detonation and call it art, to call that moment art, was simply unheard of, yet his work established a niche in the contemporary art community, launching him on a trajectory to international fame.

Little by little, a shift towards a capitalistic government is becoming evident. One that takes art in it’s purist form, strips away the passion and replaces it with fanfare and melodrama. There is no greater example in Guo-Quiang’s life than his 2001 APEC Conference firework show. It was conceived as a cacophony of sight and sound, coupled with suggestive themes, his trademark. With potentially the most symbolic scene following, a meeting with government officials, we watch as an increasingly desperate Guo-Quiang clings to his ideas with every aspect deemed against agenda. ‘The government is here to help you” he’s told, “you just have to figure out something creative with all these chains on you”. Prevented from abandoning the project from latent patriotism, the resulting soulless display is a tragedy, both for himself and, through MacDonald’s candid filmmaking, the viewer.

When an artist achieves high popularity, such as Damien Hirst for example, they become a brand, a large cog in the capitalist machine, often losing sight of their original cause. This issue is presented matter-of-factly, illustrating MacDonald’s disdain for the current art environment. To avoid this fate, Guo-Quiang works with the unknown. Those who create for passion and self-fulfilment, the foundations of greatness. His long awaited dream, to connect the Earth to the Universe through a ‘Sky Ladder’, has wrestled with the requirement of investment. A costly venture that has suffered multiple cancellations over two decades (due to issues with weather, and an unfortunate increase in security following 9/11 terror attacks), he plans one final attempt. This time not for the eyes of the world however, for family and friends, especially dedicated to his almost 100 year old grandmother. The affair is a poignant reminder of the struggles faced by Chinese virtuosi, with work completed in secret to avoid interference from the government. After more delays due to bad weather, Guo-Quiang seizes his opportunity and what follows is simply joyous, a euphoric spectacle as dream becomes reality. His masterpiece, realised.

Sky Ladder is akin to peering through the keyhole. A brief glimpse into an ordinary man with truly extraordinary ambitions. Driven not by money, but by an incessant need to provoke discussion, instil a sense of wonder and most of all, to make his family proud. An event almost lost to the ages, MacDonald’s documentary is an astonishing extension of Guo-Quiang’s art, a profound experience and an honour to watch.

Review: Life, Animated

Written by Danielle Kosky on . Posted in Film.

Life, Animated was the first film that I felt extremely excited for this year. Since first watching the trailer, my excitement only increased and I was not left disappointed. My brother is just like our lovely protagonist, Owen Suskind, and so for this reason I wanted to see how the documentary would portray autistic people. Would enough focus be placed on their struggles? Would they be seen as hard to relate to? Or would they simply be sad little things to be pitied? Thankfully, director Roger Ross Williams did an exceptional job of showing the reality of being an autistic person and helping us to understand what it’s like to be imprisoned inside your own mind, unable to understand the world the same way that others do.

The documentary is based on Pulitzer prize winning journalist Ron Suskind’s book, Life, Animated and has since won the directing award at Sundance festival. It’s easy to see why, with its beautiful animations that intercut each scene to perfectly portray how Owen is feeling, like a reflection of the Disney films that infiltrates Owen’s mind.

Autism affects as many as one in every hundred children and so is not something that should be taken lightly. What remains astonishing is that although many are unable to interact with society normally, there are an incredible amount that possess great intelligence and skills which is clearly seen through Owen. He is a wonderful artist and is very eloquent when he speaks, definitely more so than I am. The way he speaks and reacts to many things shows us that he has the mentality of a child, however it is this mentality that makes him so pure. Autistic people tend to be misunderstood and Owen perfectly articulates this. A particularly heartbreaking scene that depicts this is when Ron (his father) recounts the story of when Owen first spoke, after years of not being able to say a word or only speaking ‘gibberish’. He took a puppet of Iago, Jafar’s evil sidekick parrot from Aladdin and, playing in the role of Iago, asked him what was wrong. To this Owen responds that he is okay, but he would like friends. This theme of loneliness constantly permeates Owen’s story but thankfully, he manages to integrate into society and even has a girlfriend when he is older! Owen throughout the years uses all the disney films to communicate how he is feeling, thus showing the way in which film can be used to aid a child’s mental progression. The illustrations are beautiful and add a tender touch to the film whilst in no way downplaying the seriousness of the narrative.

This is by far the best documentary I have seen this year, and I have seen a lot. It tugs at my heartstrings in the best way possible, just as it will do yours. The best part of this documentary is how much easier it is to understand autism, since it is described from different perspectives. Not only is it informative, but it’s fun and entertaining to watch as you support, laugh and cry with Owen every step of the way.

5/5

Revisiting: Blue Velvet

Written by Eloïse Wright on . Posted in Film.

Reissued in cinemas thirty years after its initial release (1986), David Lynch’s controversial Blue Velvet remains intact in its scarring effect.

The film is packed with raw emotional scenes that construct the film’s status of a masterpiece. Despite being uneasy viewing, it demands to be watched. The trouble lies in Lynch’s apparent inability to successfully produce an appropriate setting for the intense violence of Blue Velvet.

Jeffrey’s (Kyle MacLachlan) boredom of life in Lumberton and natural inquisitiveness is the premise for what is to follow. On the way back from visiting his father in hospital one day, he finds a severed ear in a field. This leads him to the station, where he gives this lead to the local head of police, who upon their second meeting asks Jeffrey to cease all interest in the case. His previously eluded to prying nature causes these instructions to fall on deaf ears. Instead, he gets romantically involved with the police officer’s daughter, who helps him piece together this mystery that leads to Dorothy (Isabella Rossellini), a nightclub singer.

He realises he has stumbled upon a much bigger mystery than he could have possibly imagined when he sneaks into Dorothy’s flat one night, having to hide in the cupboard as she comes home earlier than anticipated. Witnessing a terrifying phone call between Dorothy and a certain “Frank” (Dennis Hopper), he is discovered by her, her reaction being how one would imagine to an intruder. The shock beings to register within the viewer as one realises she is making their first encounter into a sadomasochistic one. It is upsetting that Lynch doesn’t explore this relationship more, focusing instead on his satire of suburban life.

This early on, it is clear there are two different worlds in the movie. The first world Lynch introduces us to is the one in Lumberton, a run-of-the-mill suburban American town full of clichés that seems to be straight out of a 1950s sitcom. The second is the surreal story of emotional and psychological slavery of Dorothy, whose husband and child have been kidnapped by the perverted Frank, making her his sexual slave.

The twist here is the backward pleasure she finds within this situation and is probably one of the most disturbing, incredible things that Lynch portrays best in Blue Velvet, of which Rossellini’s acting has a lot to do with. Her mesmerising delivery almost doesn’t belong in this badly handled film, where the reality seems too sarcastic and takes away from the serious register the more violent scenes deserve. This is a recurring feeling throughout the film, as between the bland, monotone conversations of these small town suburbanites, Lynch clumsily adds disturbing scenes where Rossellini is stripped, hit and humiliated.

A vibrant palette of colours make Blue Velvet a hypnotic experience. From the plush blue velvet background as the credits roll on screen to the idyllic red and yellow flowers and green gardens, it is a feast for the eyes. Equally, the soundscape Lynch perfects is quite powerful and penetrating. At the end of the film, you will find yourself very aware of your hearing. The soundtrack alone is something out of a dream, including of course Bobby Vinton’s ‘Blue Velvet’ and Roy Orbison’s ‘Dreams’. Similar to another surreal film of Lynch’s, Mulholland Drive, the use of one of Orbison’s hit songs is used in the form of an actor flawlessly miming the lyrics in a performative way.

Blue Velvet has most certainly aged, already seeming old-fashioned in its initial year of release, but it has aged well. The performances are superb, and the soundtrack and cinematography are well worth the experience of seeing it on the big screen.

Review: The Peony Pavilion – Chinese National Ballet

Written by Ollie Kaiper-Leach on . Posted in Theatre.

As one would expect, the arrival of The National Ballet of China at the Lowry this Wednesday did not go unnoticed, it’s 1,700 seat auditorium reaching almost full capacity. Indeed, the significance of this night was clear to all, as guests were welcomed into the theatre by traditional Chinese lion dancing. The atmosphere too excitable to ignore, anticipation lighting up the room, we spot the safety curtain parting to reveal the remarkably young choreographer, Fei Bo, who formally begins this special occasion with an introduction of the principal characters, explaining their roles in the fantasy world of this ancient story.

The programme kindly reminds us that this welcome is entirely appropriate, given the cultural significance of the piece we are about to see: The Peony Pavillion is considered one of the most famous Chinese love stories, written by Tang Xianzu (1550–1616) in 1598, during the Ming Dynasty — in fact, it is widely regarded as China’s answer to Romeo and Juliet, which was published in around the same year. Originally, however, this story was written for the historic art-form of Kunqu Opera, and would traditionally have taken up to twenty hours to perform in full. No wonder, then, that this piece is held in such high esteem, condensing a mammoth saga into two hours of poignantly juxtaposed Western and Eastern dance.

This concept of cultural convergence is one which permeates the entire performance. Never is this more evident than in masterful orchestration by composer Guo Wenjing, who creates a wonderfully eclectic backdrop of traditional Kunqu vocal and instrumental music, sprinkled over Western impressionism, from Debussy and Ravel, to Holst and Prokofiev, with some Respighi for good measure.

The convergence of two egos. Photo: National Ballet of China

As the tale begins, we are introduced to Du Liniang, a girl from a rich family, who is portrayed with two alter egos: the Kunqu Opera singer (played by guest vocalist Jia Pengfei) and the mysterious Flower Goddess Liniang. These, Fei Bo explains in his introduction, represent the different aspects of her personality which come into play throughout the story, and indeed the difference in physicality between the three is striking.

As we know from the splendour of the 2008 Beijing Olympics, if there’s one thing the Chinese have down to a tee, it’s the striking vibrancy of their colours. The aesthetics of each set are breathtaking, creating a surprisingly minimalist landscape which differs completely from setting to setting, be it the world of Liniang’s dreams, the brown village ‘devoid of passion’, or the black and white underworld where the Infernal Judge (Li Ke) decides the fates of the dead: this, it must be said, was the clearest of all the scenes where narrative was concerned. Partnered effortlessly with the work of Academy Award-winning costume designer Emi Wada, the artistry on stage was clearly the centrepiece of the ballet, with the narrative falling happily to the side.

Tribute of course must be paid to the company: Zhang Jian as the Flower Goddess Liniang manages to create a character who is somehow captivatingly silent, as though, were talking permitted, she would still be mute; the duets between Zhu Yang and Ma Xiadong as Liniang and Liu Mengmei were delightfully naïve, and Yu Bo, Hu Dayong and Zhang Xi were striking as the black and white Ghosts of Impermanence. The Chorus left a lasting impression in the mind no matter who they played – from teasing and playful townspeople, to the overwhelming torrent of fire in the marriage scene, they held beautiful lines, making up for a slight lack of precision with their poise and presence.

So well thought out was the characterisation of the Chorus that the dainty blossom petals were almost certainly a nod to the swans of Swan Lake, in-keeping with the recurring fusion of Western and Eastern choreography. However, the significance of the different flowers which appear throughout the story keep it firmly grounded in Chinese heritage: for example, the peony itself is said to represent female beauty, while its Chinese name, fùguìhuā, means wealth and honour. The blossom, then, is not only a reminder of spring, but a symbol for Liniang herself. The Orchid, which appears on the robes of Mengmei, is said to represent moral virtue, its powerful scent a metaphor for how a man’s reputation precedes him, much like the way Mengmei appears in a dream before we see him in real life. Most significantly, however, the blossom of the plum tree, under which Liniang is buried, is officially recognised as the National Flower of China. For all its western elements, this is still very much a Chinese ballet.

An overwhelmingly beautiful production, the National Ballet of China certainly do not disappoint in this understated and sensitive, yet passionate retelling of this classic story. With stunning imagery and captivating characterisation, this is a momentous reminder of how art can bring two starkly different cultures together.