To all those who attended Lunar New Year Festival (LNYF) last weekend: I am sure you would understand why this show amazed me at every single step. To those who didn’t: I am sorry you missed out on the chance to watch such a high-energy, vibrant cultural showcase. I hope that by reading this you vicariously feel the thrill of the performance.

I almost thought the show had already started when I entered the Edison Theatre at 6:45 p.m. Soft, mellifluous music resonated throughout the auditorium, but the curtains were still closed. Then I realized where it was coming from. Two girls clad in red silk, seated in front of the curtains, were playing a duet on their instruments. According to the show program, this was the “preshow.” One of the girls plucked the strings of her “pipa” (Chinese lute) with long fake nails, while the other glided her bow across her two-stringed “erhu” (Chinese violin). Despite all the lights and glitter, the music was extremely soothing. It reminded me of the music they play in exotic spas or even in one of those “boost-your-concentration” tracks.

Joachim Vaturi | Student Life

Students participate in a traditional Lion dance that is performed during the Lunar New Year to drive away evil spirits. The LNYF performance included two distinct Southern Chinese styles and was accompanied by two students on percussion instruments.

Seniors Marie Liu, director of communication, and Colman Jin, director of performance, kick-started the show with their welcome speech, explaining why 2016 was the “year of the monkey” and why the show was called “Journey Home.” And then, suddenly, this gigantic feline creature with humongous eyes and jazzy fur came out of nowhere, marching to the beats of low drums. More such creatures came onto the stage, and that’s when I realized that each “lion” was in fact two students lifting each other and doing all sorts of crazy movements to mimic the sassy, yet ferocious, gait of a lion. The dance is actually symbolic of how “nian,” a lion-esque beast who would eat all of the villagers’ children every new year, was defeated by the villagers’ idea of wearing red clothes, bursting fireworks and banging drums.

The dance was followed by the Chinese sword dance “jian wu.” The dancers were all as fit, toned, lithe and graceful as warriors, and they charmed the audience with their coordination of swordplay, agile movements and intricate dance patterns. While it started out with camaraderie and teamwork, the dance soon progressed to conflicts among the warriors and ended with peace and the entire clan growing stronger together.

But this was just setting the tone for a much more powerful story of transformation and growth that was soon going to follow in the skit. It was the fictional story of an Asian-American Wash. U. student, Noah Kim, who meets a homeless man named Marvin Lee on the Delmar Loop and realizes that the “journey home” is actually just a matter of discovering who you are and going after what you really want. While the plot was fairly straightforward and involved a good choice of characters that made us smile (such as the awkward freshman Noah, his cute floor-mate and soon-to-be girlfriend, his flirtatious roommate and the spirited, carefree Marvin Lee), it also showcased some powerful emotional performances and dialogue.

The skit was divided into multiple scenes and was interspersed with an array of dances and energetic performances. Although, from that point onward, it felt like a blur of color and rhythm and song, each performance had its own highlights. The “samulnori” and “standing drums,” both featuring Korean percussion forms and instruments, were the most high-energy performances. Even though they started with low drum sounds and a slower tempo, the pace soon built up, and, before I knew it, I was clapping my hands and tapping my feet to the lively beats.

After the drums came the fan dances—the “Korean fan” and “Chinese fan” dances. It amazed me how two different cultures could portray the same dance concept under completely different themes. While the Korean one was slow, relaxed and quite floral, the Chinese Fan was more a blend of grace and power.

Perhaps the reason LNYF is such a big hit every time is that it includes dances from a diverse range of ethnic groups across the world. This year, LNYF featured the dance of the “Wa” people of Myanmar and southern China, as well as the “Tinikling” from the Philippines and the famous Hawaiian “hula.” The Wa dance was both elegant and raw at the same time, reflecting the community spirit of the tribe perfectly. And the Tinikling was a work of brilliant timing and coordination—balancing long bamboo sticks in a crouched position such that two other dancers can dance around and in between the sticks is no small feat! Finally, after all those moments of intense choreography, hula provided some respite with softer, slower and more fluid movements.

Although most of the performances on the show were dance forms, the LNYF committee clearly tried their best to portray everything unique about their culture—be it power-packed martial art (Chinese “Wushu” and Korean “Taekwondo”) moves or dexterous juggling and yo-yo acts (when I say yo-yo do not think of a child’s toy—these performers set the stage on fire when they swirled a ball on a piece of almost invisible thread, making incredibly complex patterns). And of course, the fusion dance boasted various complex Asian pop, hip-hop and aerobics moves. There was no dearth of talent on that stage.

I know that it may all sound intense, but there were many fun, lighthearted moments too. From using a white styrofoam sheet as a Jimmy John’s sandwich to the awkward, embarrassing moments between Noah and his cute floor-mate Jamie, to the oh-so-clever “Monkey” puns in the fashion show, it was all a case of good comic timing.

LNYF was indeed a mix of humor, strength, grace and skill—not to mention the dazzling costume designs and amazing synchronization. To me, the most important take-home from this show was that we are all “works in progress,” and it is high time we made the journey home.