by Xinhua writer Tian Zijun

NANNING, Oct. 29 (Xinhua) -- I crouched as I entered a karst limestone cave at the Seven Star Park (Qixing Park), an iconic landmark located at the heart of the tourist city of Guilin, south China's Guangxi Zhuang Autonomous Region. The damp air in this cave carried the scent of ancient stone, while stalactites gleaming like molten silver under green lights caught my eye.

On the opening night of the 2025 Guilin Art Festival, running from October 24 to November 2, performers from Greece's Athens Conservatoire Drama School staged "Orpheus and Eurydice," the ancient myth detailing the journey of the musician Orpheus, who descended into the underworld to reclaim his wife after her fatal snakebite.

Orpheus strummed his lyre, its notes ricocheting off gnarled limestone that convincingly passed for Hades' mythical lair. Eurydice's plea, meanwhile, pierced the chill emanating from jagged outcrops. The cave itself seemed to mourn alongside the protagonists -- blurring myth and geology into a haunting elegy of love and loss.

I sat among the audience, transfixed as the mythological underworld came alive in Guilin's subterranean hush.

Hours before the heart-wrenching Greek tale unfolded, the opening ceremony had concluded on an exhilarating note -- heralding 10 days of music, theater and performance under the theme Huajing, in a tribute to the Chinese philosopher Zhuangzi's vision of the individual self merging with the cosmos.

Debuted in 2022, the Guilin Art Festival has since evolved from a localized experiment into a grand occasion for immersive, site-specific artistic expressions. It boldly fuses Chinese and Western classics with the city's unique landscapes -- where limestone caves, sinuous rivers and mist-shrouded peaks serve not just as backdrops but as active participants in the drama.

The inaugural event featured 128 performances across 10 venues. By 2024, it had expanded to more than 140 shows from 14 countries, with 80 percent of these shows staged outdoors -- generating 2.1 billion social media clicks in total.

This year promises over 150 performances from 10 countries, including the United States, Germany, Russia, Georgia and New Zealand.

For repeat visitors like Cheng Yuyang, from Beijing, who has made the "pilgrimage" south for three consecutive years, the draw lies in the event's growing alchemy: "I become a student of history and an admirer of the dreamlike fusion of landscape and plays every time I set foot in the city during the festival. The caves and mountains don't just host the art, they live it -- turning inanimate objects into stories featuring a wide range of emotions."

The 2025 lineup crackles with bold innovation and reinvention. The opener, "Xi Wu," a modern-day drama performed by a Beijing-based theater troupe, was staged in Guilin's grand new theater beside the gentle currents of the Lijiang River, the "golden waterway" of this region.

In stark contrast to the cave depths of Qixing, mountain theaters are perched in Guilin's Yushan Park, providing open-air stages where nature's grandeur serves as a co-star. Here, the gripping drama "The Prince of Lanling" traced the titular character's quest for vengeance, empowered by a mystical mask in confronting his nemesis.

Guilin's call for artistic innovation echoes through centuries. Its natural splendor inspired Tang Dynasty poet Han Yu, who likened the river to "a green satin" and the mountains to "jade hairpins." Song-era artist Mi Fu, meanwhile, immortalized the local scenery via his brushstrokes, pioneering the "Mi Dot" style to capture the misty and cloud-clad environment.

During the Second World War, the city's limestone caves served as sanctuaries shielding displaced residents from Japanese bombardment. These havens not only sheltered lives but also birthed ideas -- forging wartime resilience amid aggression.

That spirit reached a crescendo in 1944 with the launch of the Southwest Theater Exhibition, a defiant showcase led by luminaries such as Tian Han and Ouyang Yuqian. Their dramas challenged the invaders, bolstering the nation's cultural identity at a time when attempts were made to erase it. It was the first such event in China -- and it served as a beacon of grit and hope.

Today's festival is its proud successor, with many acts paying homage to that legacy, noted Hao Rong, president of the Central Academy of Drama in Beijing.

As the festival unfolded, I left the cave and headed for the lively streets near Elephant Trunk Hill -- Guilin's iconic karst mountain. Here, euphoria spilled into the open as musicians strummed guitars and played bamboo flutes, while tourists and passersby joined impromptu calligraphy sessions or gyrated in joyful group dances.

At that moment, I keenly felt the city's pulse -- which transformed everyone there into creators and turned the streets into a living canvas. ■