In 1988, Hu Jialu went to New York with big dancing dreams, but 15 years later, the 45-year old dancer-choreographer has returned with big personal goals.

"I no longer have dreams of being a superstar," he says, sounding more self-aware than defeated. "I just want to do something for art," says the attractive man modestly.

But has something been sacrificed for peace? His recent work, "Ode to Life," shows a dancer at peace. The 70-minute modern dance piece, which Hu choreographed and directed, reflects a universal take on life, leaving the audiences with a flawless theme and enjoyable visuals, but unlike the work he created before leaving China, it leaves little in the way of inspiring, deep thought and meditation. The audience is left wondering what happened to that pioneering young dancer of the 1980s.

One of the first group of graduates from the Shanghai Ballet School during the 1970s, Hu also studied classical Chinese dance for six years.

However, it didn't take long before Hu felt "pushed by some inner power, as if trying to free me from some sort of bondage and routine," recalls Hu. "I began to be dissatisfied with what was taught in class, and bored by the endless repetition of performing a same ballet again and again."

Just as ballet began making Hu restless, fate intervened, and he happened to catch a modern dance piece on television in 1978, which "instantly enlightened" him.

"I learned that dances could be performed in an unstructured way, which helped me out of my depression over dancing, as it was a misery that was rooted in a lack of creativity and diversity in my own art at that time," says Hu.

It was a new art form to him, but modern dance had already had a history of over 70 years in the West. Invented by American dancer Isadora Duncan, this new genre freed dancers' bodies and minds from ballet's strict rules and limitations.

Modern dance captivated Hu, and he began choreographing his own works, mingling the ballets and classical Chinese dances with modern dances, setting himself free.

"When you are young, you are eager to express yourself and win over as many people as possible," says Hu. "At that time, I was simply passionate."

In early 1980s, Hu directed, choreographed and wrote the score for a modern dance work, and fans lined up around the block to buy tickets for Shanghai's "first modern dance show."

But only a few lucky souls ever got to see that history-making show, which had been scheduled to tour the country with 36 performances. It was canceled after opening night, however. At that time, conservative minds held full sway. Modern dance, which was regarded as something "exotic," was simply "not advocated."

Yet all was not lost - the enthusiasm of the public for the dance boosted Hu's confidence. And although his show was eventually granted a reprieve, billing itself as the "brand-new style," the seed had been planted: Hu was already thinking about finding another place, another space to develop himself which might offer him more artistic inspiration.

"I was so terribly moved by the fans' enthusiasm, I believed that I could do anything I wanted," he smiles.

The push factor was the fact that at the time, hundreds of domestic dance groups were dissolved because they were "short of creative choreographers and audiences to fill the theaters." "It was not the ideal situation for dancers," he adds dryly.

The year after that first show, Hu arrived in New York City, the birthplace of modern dance. New York had everything required for a modern dancer: a crowded metropolis and a range of emotions. "Modern dance could only be the child of a developed metropolis," notes Hu.

In New York, he studied at the Martha Graham School of Contemporary Dance with the choreographer Avon Nicolas, a contemporary of Graham's. But the biggest impression these two renowned dance world mavens left on Hu was their spirit, a tranquil spirit ultimately led to his choosing to be a peaceful artist instead of a creative but aggressive performer.

"Even at 90, Graham still came into the classrooms and lectured us; Nicolas, also 90, choreographed one full-length modern dance every year," says Hu, obviously awed. "And both of them shared the qualities of being humble and somehow at peace."

Hu decided that like his mentors, he needed some harmony and balance in his life as well. So he returned to Shanghai frequently, directing variety shows and recently, choreography and directing dance shows.

In 2001, he choreographed and directed Bach's "Mass in B Minor," a co-production of the Shanghai Opera Theater Dance Ensemble, a German orchestra and a Lithuanian chorus. His newest piece, "Ode to Life," highlighted his effort to access "the peaceful mind of an artist," a state that may not even exist.

Sharp minds, after all, are always threatening and adventurous, and there are much bigger possibilities they may spring on art.

(eastday.com March 21, 2003)