A tender look at power and femininity in the dying days of the Qing dynasty.

As the opening production of this year’s Huayi – Chinese Festival of Arts, Deling and Cixi arrives with imperial grandeur and no small ambition, taking us back to the days of imperial China. Written by celebrated playwright He Jiping and directed by Roy Szeto, this sweeping three-hour production brings the twilight years of the Qing dynasty to life, but what surprises most is not its scale, nor even its political scope, but its softness. For a drama set in one of the most turbulent periods of Chinese history, it is unexpectedly attentive to interiority, to gesture, to the emotional negotiations that unfold behind carved screens and heavy brocade.

Taking place in the final, tumultuous decade of the Qing court, the play centres on a fascinating historical figure: Princess Deling (Yu Deling), daughter of Qing diplomat Yu Geng. Raised in Europe and fluent in multiple Western languages, Deling entered the Forbidden City in 1903 to serve as lady-in-waiting to Empress Dowager Cixi. Her later memoirs became among the most vivid insider accounts of court life, offering rare glimpses into rituals, hierarchies and private moments within the palace walls. Historically, Deling was both observer and intermediary, a cultural bridge between an empire struggling to modernise and a world already racing ahead. It is precisely this liminal position that playwright He Jiping seizes upon, imagining not just Deling the recorder and bystander, but Deling the catalyst of history itself.

Cixi herself remains one of the most controversial figures in Chinese history. As the de facto ruler of China for nearly half a century, she has long been blamed for conservative policies that stifled reform, particularly after the failed Hundred Days’ Reform of 1898, when her nephew, Emperor Guangxu, attempted sweeping modernisation. Guangxu was subsequently placed under house arrest, effectively stripped of power until his death in 1908, one day before Cixi herself died. Over time, popular imagination hardened her into caricature: the ruthless woman who clung to authority at the empire’s expense. Yet such simplifications obscure the contradictions of a woman navigating a collapsing dynasty, foreign incursions and court factionalism. He Jiping does not attempt to rehabilitate Cixi or recast her as misunderstood heroine. Instead, she humanises her without erasing her severity, allowing authority and vulnerability to coexist uncomfortably within the same frame.

The first half of the play is unexpectedly light-hearted, even playful. Deling’s arrival in the palace feels like a warm breeze slipping through thick, cold imperial doors: her Western upbringing, quick intelligence and emotional candour gently disrupting centuries of rigid protocol. The early exchanges between Deling and Cixi are genuinely charming, animated by a lively push and pull that makes their growing closeness believable. Their contrast is expressed not only in dialogue but in physical vocabulary: Cixi’s measured, economical gestures and commanding stillness set against Deling’s buoyant energy and open posture. The humour never descends into frivolity; rather, it underscores how novelty itself can be destabilising in a world built on ritual repetition.

Jiang Shan’s Cixi commands attention from the moment she steps onstage. Her voice carries the weight of decree, and there is a ferocity in her bearing that leaves no doubt about who rules the court. Yet she layers this authority with flashes of wit and unexpected warmth, suggesting a woman acutely aware of the performance required of her. When Deling dares to question or tease, the shift in energy is electric, with surprise flickering across an otherwise impenetrable façade. Opposite her, Lang Ling’s Deling radiates hopefulness without naïveté. Though not of mixed heritage like the historical Deling, she convincingly embodies someone suspended between cultures. A triple threat, she moves fluidly between spoken dialogue, dance and song, transforming Deling from palace curiosity into emotional anchor. As Cixi’s fondness deepens, so too does the audience’s; what begins as fascination matures into something more intimate and quietly transformative.

He Jiping’s script is particularly adept in its exploration of femininity across generations. Rather than framing strength as the abandonment of softness, the play proposes that tenderness can coexist with authority, and that alternative models of power might have been possible, even within suffocating constraints. Through Deling, Cixi glimpses a version of womanhood not wholly defined by survival within patriarchy. These moments feel quietly radical, especially in a narrative so steeped in hierarchy. At the same time, the script resists sentimental simplification. The looming machinery of politics is never far away.

The second half darkens considerably as palace intrigue tightens its grip. Reformist tensions, suspicion and factional rivalries intrude upon the earlier levity. Guangxu, portrayed with aching fragility by Xiao Yuliang, becomes one of the production’s most tragic figures. Historically sidelined after his reform attempt and confined within the palace, he embodies the frustration of a thwarted moderniser. Xiao resists portraying him as a mere weakling; instead, he conveys a sensitive man suffocated by constraint, his voice restrained, his movements tentative, as though the very air is monitored. In his interactions with Deling, there is a palpable sense of yearning, not simply for political agency, but for recognition of his achievements. His near-despair underscores the wider tragedy of an era in which personal conviction collided fatally with structural inertia.

If the production occasionally strains under the weight of exposition and its large supporting cast — emperors, consorts, eunuchs and ministers weaving in and out, that density also reinforces the suffocating enormity of court life. The abundance of attendants and minor figures creates a sense of constant surveillance and reinforces how little space exists for private autonomy. Roy Szeto’s direction manages this vast canvas with considerable control, maintaining a coherent emotional throughline even as scenes shift from intimate chambers to formal court assemblies. Restaging director Li Ren ensures transitions remain fluid, preventing the historical sweep from overwhelming the personal narrative. There are moments when the script seems to cram in so much, from reform politics, generational conflict, sisterhood, to imperial collapse, but the audience is always pulled back to the central relationship between Deling and Cixi, which anchors the drama.

Visually, the production is sumptuous without feeling decorative for its own sake. Liu Hongman’s costumes are meticulously realised: richly embroidered Manchu court robes, structured ceremonial attire, Western gowns that subtly signal shifting cultural currents, and performance garments that allow movement to bloom across the stage. Each piece feels intentional, grounded in history yet theatrically alive. Wang Jianwei’s set design makes striking use of the Esplanade’s expansive stage, with monumental pillars and sweeping elements that suggest both imperial authority and the suppression of individuality. Combined with Zhang Guoyong’s layered lighting and atmospheric effects, the space acquires depth and intrigue; one senses both splendour and entrapment, the grandeur of empire and the isolation it imposes.

The play ultimately concludes quietly, in bittersweet grace. As Deling and her sister Rongling are cast out of the palace, the farewell between Deling and the ailing Cixi is suffused with restrained emotion. Rather than framing Deling’s departure as punitive exile, the production suggests a reluctant release: Cixi recognises that Deling’s idealism may achieve more beyond palace walls than within them. It is a generous interpretation, perhaps even an optimistic one, yet it resonates. What lingers is a renewed curiosity about these historical figures. They are etched into textbooks for what they did, for reforms attempted, power seized, dynasties lost, but rarely for who they were. Beyond scattered anecdotes and official records, their inner lives remain largely speculative. Deling and Cixi does not distort known history, nor does it absolve its most contentious protagonist; instead, it deepens the spaces between documented events, offering an imagined emotional truth that feels sincere rather than revisionist.

One leaves the theatre wanting to read more, to question inherited caricatures, to reconsider the flattened portraits that history so often hands us. The production may occasionally buckle under its own ambition, and one might wish it lingered even longer in the private silences between its two protagonists. Yet as an immersive, visually resplendent and emotionally grounded historical drama, it succeeds in restoring complexity to names long reduced to archetypes. In shedding light without bleaching out shadow, it reminds us that even the most formidable figures in history were shaped not only by what they did, but by what they felt, and by what, perhaps, they wished they could have been.

Photo Credit: Jack Yam, courtesy of the Esplanade

Deling and Cixi plays from 27th February to1st March 2026 at the Esplanade Theatre. Tickets available here

Huayi – Chinese Festival of Arts 2026 runs from 27th February to 8th March 2026 at the Esplanade. Full programme and tickets available here

Production Credits:

Playwright & Chief Executive Producer He Jiping Executive producer Mao Weitao, An Ting, Li Jie Co-Executive producer Liu Zhongkui Planning Li Dan, He Mi, You Jia Supervising Producers Li Jing, Miao Jie Producers Li Dong, Gazi Co-Producers Zhao Lin, Wang Qian Director Roy Szeto Re-staging Director Li Ren Set & Props Design Wang Jianwei Lighting Design Zhang Guoyong Costume & Styling Design and Supervision Liu Hongman Props Design and Supervision Jin Jifeng Composer & Music Supervisor Jiang Jinghong Sound Design Wang Yong Executive Production Liu Peixiao, Cui Hao, Sun Di, Su Yeye