No mean feat

Rows of black suits filled the China Airlines flight from Beijing to Paris in September 1984. The People’s Liberation Army had ordered its entire delegation of dancers and musicians to wear the same ill-fitting outfit. Only one 17-year-old dancer had disobeyed the order. For this, his first visit to Europe, Jin Xing had bought a dazzling, white three-piece suit. ‘Only I shone out,’ he declared proudly.

It is this desire to shine against the bulwark of the Chinese state that defines Jin Xing’s autobiography, Shanghai Tango. It has been no easy feat. Jin Xing was born a boy and became a colonel in the People’s Liberation Army. A sex change saw her start a new career as an international ballerina, choreographer and, most improbably of all, Beijing bar owner.

Her perspective is unusual and not just for the sex change. Here is an individual uncertain about his sexuality, but never his drive and ambition, who lives in a communist state that at best distrusts individuality, and at worst destroys it. Shanghai Tango is a fascinating insight into the changes in China over the past 40 years through its relationship with one extraordinary person. The danger is never far absent. Jin Xing’s earliest memories are of wanting to wear a tutu — and of his mother being interrogated night after night by the Red Guards.

Jin Xing grew up in a state where art could only exist as propaganda. The People’s Liberation Army ran the best dance company in order ‘to inspire its soldiers’. Entry into this ‘socialist dancing machine’ was not for the faint-hearted. At the age of nine Jin Xing saw his family no more than three times a year, learnt to use a gun, go on army manoeuvres and undertake a dance training verging on the sadistic.