The air thrums with the beat of drums and the clash of cymbals at Mingyue Lay temple in Sydney’s west. It’s a sticky night, with temperatures reaching 33°C, but the performers of the Qing Fong Dragon and Lion dance team are focused. They’re preparing for the most demanding time of year: Lunar New Year, a period encompassing over 100 performances across three weeks. This year’s celebrations are particularly significant, coinciding with the year of the Fire Horse – a rare occurrence happening only once every 60 years.
Lunar New Year isn’t just a cultural touchstone for the Chinese community; it’s a major event for Sydney, which boasts one of the largest Lunar New Year celebrations in the Southern Hemisphere. But behind the vibrant costumes and energetic performances lies a dedication that demands rigorous training and unwavering commitment. The art of lion dancing, steeped in tradition, requires not just physical prowess but a deep connection to cultural heritage.
“Rain, hail or shine, we still train,” says Long Huynh, a six-year veteran of the Qing Fong team. The team’s commitment is evident in their training schedule, which involves at least twice-weekly, three-hour sessions. These aren’t casual practices; they start with intense conditioning – laps around the car park, dynamic stretching, and circuit exercises – building the stamina and strength required for the demanding routines.
Kelvin Tran, a co-founder of Qing Fong and team leader, emphasizes the mental aspect of the dance. “I tell my kids to be the lion and to feel the lion through themselves,” he explains, directing the younger dancers with a booming voice over the rhythmic drumming. This philosophy is coupled with intensive physical training, pushing performers to embody the spirit and energy of the mythical creature.
The performance itself is a complex interplay of skill and coordination. Each lion dance group consists of six people: four musicians playing drums and cymbals, and a pair of dancers bringing the lion to life. One dancer controls the head, while the other manages the tail. While the head often receives the most attention, the tail dancer plays a crucial role, responding to the head’s movements and interacting with the audience.
“If a head has a happy interaction with a crowd member, we tails wag our tails,” Huynh says, highlighting the symbiotic relationship between the two performers. Inside the lion costume, visibility is severely limited. The head dancer’s only view is through the mouth of the lion, while the tail dancer is typically in a squat position, chest facing the floor, unless performing a lift. This necessitates a high level of trust and communication between the two.
“You have to trust each other and you have to rely on each other in order for a performance to actually work out well,” Tran agrees. This reliance fosters a strong sense of community within the troupe, a “family” that spans generations, with members ranging in age from 12 to 40. “You watch each other grow up,” Tran adds.
Music is integral to the performance, with dancers learning specific phrases that correspond to particular movements. According to team members, the music and the lion are “synergised,” with the rhythm representing the “heartbeat of the lion.” Nicky Phan, a seven-year veteran of lion dancing, discovered a deeper connection to her Vietnamese-Chinese heritage through the art form. Before joining the troupe, she described her relationship with her ethnicity as “broken,” but learning the history and significance of lion dancing rekindled a sense of belonging. “Being a lion… brings back something that you feel like you’ve lost for a very long time.”
Lion dance performances are traditionally believed to ward off evil spirits and bring prosperity and good luck for the coming year. Beyond Lunar New Year and the Moon Festival in September, the Qing Fong team performs at weddings and business openings, maintaining a busy schedule throughout the year. Despite the potential for mishaps – a missed step, a dropped partner – the team prioritizes camaraderie, always sharing a meal together after even the longest 12-hour days.
“Whether it’s a small performance or a big performance, we always make sure we feed each other,” says team instructor Adelene Pham. The dedication and passion of the Qing Fong Dragon and Lion dance team are palpable, culminating in a frenetic, optimistic energy as they prepare for their Lunar New Year showcase. For many, it’s more than just a performance; it’s a vital part of their lives.
“It has just become a really big part of my life, and a very good part of my life,” Pham says.
As the Lunar New Year celebrations conclude, the Qing Fong team will continue to practice and refine their art, preparing for future performances and carrying on a tradition that connects them to their heritage and to each other. The dedication required to master this ancient art form ensures its vibrant continuation for generations to come.
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