WUZHEN (China) — On a drizzly afternoon, Mr Liu Hongfei plopped into an empty baby stroller in Wuzhen, a picturesque town in eastern China.
He was wearing dark clothes and red sneakers, his face painted white, a kazoo perched in his mouth. “Hello?” he rasped, addressing the tourists streaming past. “Is anyone listening?”
People hurried along at the sight of the crazed, ghostlike figure. But as Mr Liu, an actor, continued his monologue on death, war and women, a crowd of onlookers began to form.
Moments of theatrical absurdity are rare on the streets of China, where public performances are tightly regulated. So Mr Liu’s monologue was a refreshing moment of authenticity in Wuzhen, an ancient town known for its charming canals and traditional architecture.
Mr Liu is a member of the Black Cat Theatre Group, which travelled from Beijing for the fourth annual Wuzhen Theatre Festival, held in October. The group of young performers specialises in avant-garde theatre.
When Mr Stan Lai, a Taiwanese-American playwright and one of the founders of the theatre festival, first visited Wuzhen, he said, it seemed like “one beautiful stage.” But he added: “It lacked spirit. There was no soul.”
Some critics say Wuzhen has a sterile feel. Nonetheless, the town has become a wildly successful example of tourism development in China. Nearly 7 million tourists visit every year, in what has been a huge economic boon to the town of about 50,000.
“We are like the engine of an airplane, generating commercial opportunities that help lift up the entire town,” said Mr Chen Xianghong, the chairman of Culture Wuzhen, which sponsors the theatre festival.
But as China’s growing number of tourists become more savvy, tourism development is beginning to take a different course. And Wuzhen, whose claim to fame is being the birthplace of the 20th-century novelist Mao Dun, is seeking to be at the forefront of that change. “People no longer want to just take photos and leave,” said Mr Chen, who is also the president of the Wuzhen Tourism Co, a public-private partnership that oversees the town’s development. “They want to stay in places longer and immerse themselves in the experience.”
He added: “With Wuzhen, we have built a beautiful shell. So now we are trying to fill in the shell with culture.”
Mr Chen’s approach reflects a widespread understanding of culture in China these days. Here, officials and businesspeople speak of culture more often as a commodity — culture with a capital “C” — rather than something that grows organically.
To that end, Wuzhen — more than any of the other so-called water towns that dot the area — has muscled its way onto the international cultural map with its annual theatre festival. This year, the 10-day festival drew more than 35,000 people.
“Wuzhen has a kind of nourishing energy,” said Mr Meng Jinghui, the artistic director of this year’s theatre festival. “In terms of content and budget, they have given us complete freedom. That’s very rare in China.”
It helps, Mr Meng said, that visitors to Wuzhen are limited to one of two designated tourist zones, creating a kind of captive audience. Both tourist zones are run by the Wuzhen Tourism Co, which charges around US$15 (S$21) for entry.
Inside, an urban utopia thrives. Housed within perfectly rustic traditional buildings are shops carefully curated by the tourism company to ensure a diverse offering of local delicacies and specially crafted wares, like scallion rolls and indigo-dyed textiles.
More than 200 workers keep the stone-paved streets clean. There is no rubbish on the sidewalks, no laundry hung out to dry. Just selfie-ready backdrops — flowing green canals, sloping tiled roofs, stone bridges — at every turn. THE NEW YORK TIMES