When you think of weddings, you immediately picture an atmosphere of joy: flowers, parties and good wishes from family and friends. Even if there will be tears, they will most likely be a sign of joy and happiness. But, have you ever heard of a bridal lament?

The Bridal Lament, a sound and visual performance, presents a highly unusual wedding scene. Artist Rainbow Chan draws on the wedding customs of Hong Kong's Weitou culture, in which the bride weeps and sings for five days in front of her family and friends as she gets married. It expresses the bride's dissatisfaction with her forced arranged marriage and her rebellion against the patriarchy.

When I saw the poster of the performance, I was shocked. On the poster, the bride in the traditional red Chinese wedding dress is wearing a phoenix crown, but her cheeks are dotted with teardrop pearls. Joy and sorrow, beauty and horror are presented at the same time. This impactful poster completely captivated me.

When I walked into the theatre, the first thing I saw was a huge crystal bead curtain installation on the right side of the stage. The crystal bead strings were of different lengths, enclosed in a square with a notch on the inside, and hung on the tiers of steps. Its shape resembles the Chinese character "回", which means "return", "cycle" and "new beginning". In performance, this highly symbolic installation can be either physical, such as a sedan chair, the bride's chamber, or the groom's home, or spiritual, such as a giant mouth or even a cage for women. But happily, Chan eventually broke out of it.

When Chan took the stage, she captured the audience's attention in her flowing blue dress and long black braids tied with red hair ropes. The main lighting colour throughout the show was also blue, echoing her blue dress. In an exclusive interview with Chan after the show, she mentioned her fascination with the colour blue: it could be the sky, flowing water, silence and a symbol of life.

Chan is very skilled in the use of her voice and body. Her singing voice, whether in Weitou or English, has an infectious power. Her dancing can be as fine as the movement of each finger or the jumping of her entire body. The compositions of the songs are very modern, with many elements of electronic music. The design of the visual effects extracts some of the imagery mentioned in the lyrics, such as birds, fish, and fruits, which rotate and shift as the song and dance progress, full of dynamic visual effects.

Each of Chan's performances began with a narration from his mother, spoken in Weitou. Chan would then narrate her personal experiences from Hong Kong to Australia in English. At the end of the narration is a song and dance adapted from the Weitou brides' wedding lament. In traditional patriarchal societies, women are unable to choose who they marry. For the Waitou bride, getting married signalled a departure from her parents and sisters to start a new life with a new family; a new life that was unknown and often meant a restriction on her freedom. For Chan, too, travelling from Hong Kong to Australia was the start of a new life, and for her as a young girl then, a new journey that was also completely unknown. The difference was that it was a journey of self-discovery and a search for freedom.

My favourite song was "Seven Sisters" near the end of the performance. It was in this song that Chan entered the "cage" constructed by the crystal curtains, spinning, struggling and crying out for help from her "sisters" like a trapped creature. This is the unique unity and "sisterhood" of girls, as well as the unique sadness and reluctance of women before they get married. At the end of the song, Chan jumps out of the crystal device, implying the "breaking" of the patriarchal cage. This is the liberation of women's freedom and the victory of resistance.

The performance began with Chan looking back, dancing backwards, and ended with her looking forwards, singing forwards. This is like a cycle, which is also represented by the Chinese character "回". As she faced the audience and sang her last song with a smile, I could see thousands of female figures floating behind her, looking at her with smiles of relief and comfort. Chan, as a new generation of Weitou women, has realised the freedom that her ancestors aspired to. And I believe that at that moment, this performance fulfilled Chan's wish: “I hope for Australian audiences, they can come in and experience the joy of music and performance. At the same time, they can also have their own personal experiences of love and loss, and grief, and feel a sense of healing through that too.”

Photographer credit: Sarah Walker