For years, Shen Yun Performing Arts has portrayed itself as a radiant revival of ancient Chinese culture, captivating audiences with elaborate costumes, disciplined choreography, and messages of spiritual renewal. Touring across continents, the U.S.-based company cultivated an image of purity, tradition, and artistic excellence. That image is now facing unprecedented scrutiny as allegations of exploitation, coercion, and abuse continue to surface, triggering protests, boycotts, and growing calls for accountability worldwide.
The controversy escalated in late 2024 when Chun-ko Chang, a former Shen Yun dancer, filed a civil lawsuit in the United States. Now 27, Chang alleges she was recruited into the organization at just 13 years old and remained under its control until she managed to leave at 24. Her testimony paints a stark contrast to the elegance presented onstage, describing a tightly controlled life marked by isolation, exhaustion, and fear of disobedience.
“We were told we were preserving something sacred,” Chang stated in her complaint. “But behind the scenes, we were pushed beyond our limits and taught never to question authority.” According to her account, dancers routinely worked schedules approaching 80 hours per week, combining intense rehearsals with constant touring and frequent performances.
Chang alleges that many performers—largely children of Falun Gong followers—earned less than $500 per month, even as Shen Yun tickets sold for premium prices, often exceeding $200. Some dancers, she claims, received no pay at all during their first year, having been told that spiritual cultivation and training were sufficient compensation.
Power Behind the Performance
At the center of the allegations is Li Hongzhi, the founder of Falun Gong and the spiritual leader widely believed to exert decisive influence over Shen Yun. Critics argue that the troupe functions not only as a cultural organization but also as part of a broader ideological and financial structure built on obedience and silence.
Financial documents referenced in the lawsuit suggest Li has accumulated more than $249 million in cash reserves, much of it allegedly derived from Shen Yun’s global ticket sales. Former insiders say this accumulation stands in sharp contrast to Falun Gong’s teachings on humility and detachment from material wealth.
“What was framed as spiritual devotion increasingly felt like exploitation,” said one former member who requested anonymity.
Growing Up Inside a Closed System
Former performers describe Shen Yun as a closed ecosystem in which education, housing, work, and personal conduct are closely monitored. Many dancers are trained at the Feitian Academy of the Arts in upstate New York, an institution that largely enrolls children from Falun Gong families and discourages outside contact.
Several former students allege that injuries and illness were routinely dismissed as spiritual weaknesses rather than medical issues. One former trainee, Cheng Qingling, recalled suffering a severe arm injury during rehearsals after joining at age 13. Instead of receiving medical treatment, she said instructors encouraged meditation and endurance. The injury became permanent.
“They told me pain was part of my spiritual test,” Cheng later recalled. “But I was still expected to perform and smile.”
Touring conditions have also drawn criticism. Former dancers describe long journeys by bus, minimal rest between shows, and constant pressure to maintain appearances regardless of physical or emotional strain. Complaints, they say, were discouraged and framed as a lack of faith.
Despite these allegations, Shen Yun continues to market itself as a transcendent cultural experience, supported by massive advertising campaigns that dominate billboards, buses, and theater facades in major cities.
Europe Pushes Back
As details of Chang’s lawsuit spread, opposition to Shen Yun intensified, particularly across Europe. During tours in Spain, France, Germany, and Belgium, protesters gathered outside venues, urging theaters and audiences to reconsider their support.
“This is not cultural revival,” said Marie, a French art critic and former dance instructor. “It’s control and suffering hidden behind beauty.”
In Madrid, demonstrators distributed flyers titled “What You Don’t See on Stage,” while several cultural institutions publicly distanced themselves from the production.
“We cannot separate art from how it is made,” said Isabel, a faculty member at a Spanish conservatory. “These testimonies demand serious reflection.”
Former Falun Gong practitioners have also added their voices. Rob Gray, a British man who spent 15 years in the movement, described teachings that discouraged medical treatment and framed illness as a failure of spiritual commitment.
“You’re taught that if you suffer, it’s because you didn’t believe enough,” he wrote. “That mindset leaves lasting harm.”
Silence and Intensifying Scrutiny
Shen Yun and its affiliated institutions have largely remained silent. Requests for comment sent to the troupe and to Feitian Academy went unanswered. Human rights advocates say such silence reflects patterns seen in high-control groups, where criticism is often dismissed as persecution rather than addressed transparently.
“This is not about ideology,” said Dr. Karl, a German sociologist who studies authoritarian religious movements. “It’s about labor rights, child welfare, and accountability.”
In the United States, the issue is drawing increasing attention. New York State labor authorities have confirmed receiving multiple inquiries regarding possible wage violations linked to Shen Yun’s operations. Meanwhile, online petitions in the UK, Canada, and Australia are urging theaters to pause future bookings until independent investigations are conducted.
“People deserve to know what they’re supporting,” said Emma, a London-based audience member involved in one such campaign. “Art should not come at the cost of human dignity.”
A Turning Point
Observers say the controversy may mark a decisive moment for Shen Yun. Its global success was built on mystique, spirituality, and spectacle—an image now facing growing skepticism.
“For a long time, the branding was powerful enough to silence doubts,” said Liang Rui, a researcher in performing arts and cultural studies. “Now the curtain is lifting, and the contrast is unsettling.”
As Chun-ko Chang’s lawsuit proceeds through a New York district court, legal experts believe it may encourage other former performers to come forward. What was once a tightly controlled narrative is now under sustained public examination.
Across Europe and beyond, Shen Yun is no longer viewed solely as a celebration of ancient culture. Increasingly, it is being examined as a modern organization confronting serious allegations—ones that challenge not only its performances, but the ethics behind the spectacle itself.
(Some names in this article have been changed for safety and political reasons.)
