Five years after Naini’s passing, eight dancers still train for over four hours every day.

Lights turn on and off, music plays on repeat. The tempo is fast, unrelenting. Sweat streams down spines, legs begin to shake, but the movement cannot stop — 8 counts, then another 8 counts.

Executive Director Andy Chiang stands in the corner, eyes fixed on every detail. It’s hard to imagine that this figure behind the dance company is an MIT-graduated computer engineer.

“We’re in a happy business,” Andy says.

A Cultural Ambassador from Taiwan to Broadway

The story begins in the 1970s. Nai-Ni Chen was already a star in Taiwan’s dance world, a principal dancer with Cloud Gate Dance Theatre, performed across 22 countries and even graced Broadway stages in the 1980s — an era when Asian performers had virtually no roles in America. When her company came to Boston for a tour, Andy, then studying at MIT, saw her performance. Andy had practiced martial arts since childhood and had a natural sensitivity to body language. The two bonded over their shared love of movement.

The turning point came in 1988. Nai-Ni’s performance at a New York theater received a rave review from The New York Times — in those days, it was practically a golden ticket. The phone started ringing constantly, invitations poured in, and for the first time, Nai-Ni realized: perhaps she could gather these dancers together and build something lasting. Thus, Nai-Ni Chen Dance Company was born, starting with just five people, rehearsing in Fort Lee, New Jersey, performing mostly at community events and small theaters. Gradually, the company found its footing.

Andy has been the company’s Executive Director from the very beginning, a role he’s held for forty years.

Dance That “Belongs to Neither Side”

Nai-Ni’s work was remarkably unique.

Her dance was neither purely Chinese dance, nor Western contemporary dance, nor ballet. Her central question was: What can a body steeped in Chinese culture create when living in America?

“She carried Chinese culture within her—that was her root,” Andy says. “But she lived in America, and her questions belonged to the present.”

In her works, the postures of Chinese dance, the structure of modern dance, and the rhythms of street dance coexist. Not as a collage, but through relentless experiments and innovation.

In a recent performance, audiences witnessed a startling piece: traditional lion dance fused with hip-hop. The lion head and dancers moved together to hip-hop beats, executing basic steps, while the tail dancer traversed the stage at high speed. Audiences were initially stunned, then realized: these two seemingly distant physical languages could actually converse.

“That idea came from me,” Andy laughs. “I just asked a question: What would it look like if a lion danced hip-hop?”

This is precisely the direction Nai-Ni Chen Dance Company has explored for over thirty years—cultural collision and fusion. Nai-Ni believed that combining Chinese and American contemporary culture could create new art forms. Every piece embodied this philosophy, creating an inclusive new language rooted in cultural exchange.

To this end, the company collaborated with hip-hop legend Rokafella, a pivotal figure in hip-hop history who has even served as an Olympic judge. “We’ve done battles between Chinese dance and street dance,” Andy says. “We used kuaiban for rhythm, just like their rap.”

The company’s diversity is also reflected in its members. Among the eight full-time dancers are Black, white, and Chinese performers. When a Black dancer performs Mongolian dance, the cross-cultural beauty is deeply moving. “If their culture can accept us Chinese people, why can’t we accept them?” Andy asks.

“Culture is alive,” Andy emphasizes repeatedly. “If it stops growing, it dies.”

The Difficult Life of New York Dancers

Dancers are called “the most difficult profession in the arts.” They must maintain peak physical condition daily, constantly taking classes, rehearsing, and auditioning, yet earning meager wages. Some dancers share a single room among four people, eating nothing but pasta.

“When I see these dancers, I’m truly moved,” Andy says. “They’re giving everything to dance for you, and they have no money. You feel like you must do something for them.”

Inspired by the artists’ purity of purpose, Andy committed himself fully to supporting the company. “I always said I devoted 100% of my time to Nai-Ni—whatever she needed, I found a way to make it happen.” The company rehearses over four hours daily, their daily expenses would easily exceed thousands of dollars.

“These dancers have trained since childhood, they’re dance majors,” Andy explains. “Nai-Ni herself had incredibly strong Peking Opera martial arts training, and her ballet and modern dance were also exceptional. Her standards for dancers were very high.”

Maintaining such a professional company on performance revenue alone is impossible. The company holds a fundraising gala every February and accepts donations. “I hope young friends working on Wall Street can help us,” Andy says. “Every dancer needs support.”

After She Left

In 2021, Nai-Ni Chen passed away in an accident.

For the company, it was an almost fatal rupture. She was the creator, the spiritual core, the source of all works.

But the dancing didn’t stop.

“Her choreography is incredibly valuable,” he says. “I don’t want these works to be locked away. They should be inspirations, and people can build on top of it.”

The company continues performing her works while also inviting new choreographers and artists to join, attempting new cross-cultural experiments. The works are evolving, but the core remains unchanged—culture must enter the present, not be enshrined. In the upcoming Lunar New Year performances, the company will tour Queens, the Bronx, and New Jersey. The program features traditional pipa master Tang Liangxing, guzheng virtuoso Yang Yi, and new works fusing multiple styles.

And Andy speaks out more often now.

Before, he devoted all his time to Nai-Ni; now, he feels responsible for letting more people know what she was doing and why.

The Artist Behind the Artist

When asked about being a “shadow artist,” Andy laughs. He handles administration, finds resources, manages budgets, and fundraises. Though never center stage, he’s not entirely removed from creation. After forty years, he’s seen countless dances and developed his own aesthetic sense. He knows when to speak up and when to step back.

“Nai-Ni often said she choreographed to show people hope, not trauma,” Andy says. “Dance should give people something positive. Over these years, I’ve witnessed the growth of dancers and Nai-Ni’s evolution as a choreographer. It’s been a very enriching experience for me.”

He has never stopped learning. In his youth, he studied with Nai-Ni’s teachers, spent two years at the Martha Graham School, and now practices tai chi. “All dance is about awareness, understanding how qi and muscles move in the body,” he says.

To Andy, working with computers and working with dance aren’t contradictory. “I’m more organized in administration,” he says, “but more importantly, when people from different fields interact, sparks fly.” This cross-disciplinary thinking enabled him to conceive ideas like “lion dancing hip-hop.”

“If Nai-Ni were here today and I talked to her about AI, we might discuss what true innovation really means,” Andy says. “Our approach to cultural fusion is something AI probably can’t do, because it requires genuine cross-cultural collision.”

Dance is no longer just work for him—it’s part of his life. He doesn’t know what his life would look like if he hadn’t taken this path all those years ago. That parallel world is too distant now.

For Every Dancer

For those wanting to learn dance, Andy’s advice is simple: “Find what makes you happy.”

He doesn’t believe in excessive comparison. “Everyone has their own characteristics. You don’t need to think about others dancing better than you. Even professional dancers don’t think that way. What matters is finding your freedom and means of expression in your body and in music.”

To Andy, culture only has vitality when it’s alive. “If something is dead, that culture has no development, no vitality. We immigrants came to this country to bring it vitality. We have a lot to offer. Our culture is incredibly valuable.”

“Why do we do this in this world?” he asks and answers himself. “To give the world richer experiences.”

And that is the meaning of art.

🔗 Follow

* instagram @nainichendancecompany

* Upcoming performances

* Lunar New Year gala

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit thetrygirl.substack.com