Artistic director reflects on his life and career in ballet
Eric Vu-An embraces his otherness, a theme of the ballet he will stage here for Le France May, writes Fionnuala McHugh

One day, more than two decades ago, French-Vietnamese dancer Eric Vu-An received a phone call from Italian choreographer Luciano Cannito. Vu-An had recently enjoyed success in a ballet based on Marguerite Yourcenar's classic book Memoirs of Hadrian; he had danced the role of Antinous, the emperor's lover, in the spectacular surroundings of Tivoli, Hadrian's former villa on the outskirts of Rome. But Cannito had another book, and another emperor, on his mind.
"When he called," says Vu-An, amiably drinking tea in a Paris café on a recent afternoon, "he said he had an idea for me to dance Marco Polo in a ballet based on a book called Invisible Cities. He said it was about the relationship between Marco Polo and Kublai Khan. He talked about it for five minutes." Silence then ensued, long enough for Cannito to grow alarmed. When Vu-An eventually spoke, it was to say the book - by Italo Calvino - was in his hand when Cannito called.
Human beings don't like to see something that's not easy to understand. They want to say, 'You are this and you are that'
The synchronicity struck both men as auspicious. Vu-An went on to create the role and, as his professional life progressed, he filed it in his head for future use. After he became artistic director of the Nice Méditerranée Opera Ballet in 2009, he asked Cannito if the company could include his work in its repertoire. The choreographer said Vu-An must dance it.
"I told him I had problems with my tendons," sighs Vu-An, who is now an exceptionally lithe, if rueful, 50. "And he said, 'Do the other character. Do Kublai Khan.'"
It's not only the advancing years that make this leap between roles seem appropriate. When Vu-An takes to the stage of the Hong Kong Cultural Centre in Marco Polo on May 16, as part of Le French May, he can also claim to be channelling his Asian roots: his father is Vietnamese.
