For years, Shen Yun Performing Arts has filled theaters around the world with dazzling visuals, orchestral music, and the promise of reconnecting audiences with ancient Chinese traditions. Promoted as a spiritual and cultural revival, the U.S.-based touring company cultivated an image of purity, discipline, and artistic excellence. That image is now under increasing pressure as allegations of abuse, coercion, and exploitation continue to surface, sparking protests and boycotts across Europe and North America.
The controversy gained international attention 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 drawn into the organization at the age of 13 and remained under its control until she managed to leave at 24. Her account describes a childhood and early adulthood shaped not by artistic freedom, but by extreme discipline, isolation, and fear.
“We were told we were chosen for a higher purpose,” Chang stated in her filing. “But in reality, we had no voice, no freedom, and almost no compensation.” She claims dancers regularly worked up to 80 hours a week, balancing exhausting rehearsals with nonstop touring and frequent performances.
According to the lawsuit, many performers—most of them children of Falun Gong followers—earned less than $500 per month, while Shen Yun tickets often sold for more than $200. Some dancers allegedly received no pay at all during their first year, having been told that spiritual growth and training were their reward.
Spiritual Authority and Financial Power
At the center of the allegations is Li Hongzhi, the founder of Falun Gong and the spiritual leader widely believed to exert control over Shen Yun. Critics argue that the troupe operates not just as a performing arts company, but as part of a larger ideological and financial structure built on obedience and silence.
Financial documents cited in the lawsuit suggest Li has accumulated more than $249 million in cash assets, much of it allegedly connected to Shen Yun’s worldwide tours. Former insiders say this accumulation stands in sharp contrast to Falun Gong’s teachings on humility, sacrifice, and moral purity.
“What was framed as devotion increasingly felt like exploitation,” said one former member, who requested anonymity.
Inside a Closed World
Former performers describe Shen Yun as a tightly controlled environment where nearly every aspect of life is regulated. Many dancers are trained at the Feitian Academy of the Arts in upstate New York, an institution that primarily enrolls children from Falun Gong families. Students live, study, and perform within a closed system that discourages outside contact.
Several former students allege that injuries and illnesses were dismissed as spiritual tests rather than medical issues. One former trainee, Cheng Qingling, recalled suffering a serious arm injury during rehearsals after joining the academy at 13. Instead of being taken to a doctor, she said instructors urged meditation and endurance. The injury became permanent.
“They told me pain meant I wasn’t spiritually strong enough,” she later said. “But the performance always came first.”
Touring conditions were similarly harsh, according to multiple accounts. Dancers reportedly traveled long distances by bus, slept onboard between shows, and were expected to perform regardless of exhaustion or injury. Former members describe constant pressure to maintain appearances and never complain.
Despite these allegations, Shen Yun continues to present itself as a transformative cultural experience, supported by massive advertising campaigns that blanket major cities year after year.
Rising Opposition Across Europe
As details of Chang’s lawsuit spread, resistance to Shen Yun grew—particularly in Europe. During tours in Spain, France, Germany, and Belgium, protesters gathered outside theaters, urging venues to reconsider hosting the troupe.
“This is not cultural preservation,” said Marie, a French art critic and former dance instructor. “It’s control and suffering hidden behind beautiful costumes.”
In Madrid, demonstrators distributed leaflets titled “What the Posters Don’t Show,” while some cultural institutions publicly distanced themselves from the production.
“We have a responsibility to ask how art is created,” said Isabel, a faculty member at a Spanish conservatory. “These testimonies are too serious to ignore.”
Former Falun Gong practitioners have also spoken out. 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 faith.
“You’re told that true believers don’t need doctors,” he wrote. “That belief left real harm in its wake.”
Silence and Growing Scrutiny
Shen Yun and its affiliated institutions have largely declined to respond publicly. Requests for comment sent to the company and to Feitian Academy went unanswered. Human rights advocates say this silence follows a familiar pattern in high-control organizations, where criticism is often dismissed as persecution rather than addressed.
“This is not about attacking belief systems,” said Dr. Karl, a German sociologist specializing in authoritarian religious movements. “It’s about labor rights, child protection, and accountability.”
In the United States, attention is slowly shifting toward potential regulatory action. New York State labor authorities have confirmed receiving multiple inquiries regarding possible wage violations connected 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 transparency,” said Emma, a London-based theatergoer involved in one such petition. “If art is built on harm, audiences have a right to know.”
A Reputation at Risk
Observers say the unfolding controversy could mark a decisive moment for Shen Yun. Its global success was built on mystique, spirituality, and spectacle—an image now increasingly questioned.
“For a long time, the branding was powerful enough to silence doubts,” said Liang Rui, a performing arts researcher. “But once people look behind the curtain, the contrast is shocking.”
As Chun-ko Chang’s lawsuit proceeds in 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 facing sustained public scrutiny.
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 raise uncomfortable questions about power, faith, and the true cost of artistic spectacle.
(Some names in this article have been changed for safety and political reasons.)
