We sat down for an exclusive interview with Haonan Wang, director of WOOF. He is a theatre and opera director originally from China whose practice is informed by experiences of migration and cultural displacement, and is particularly interested in stories that explore identity, belonging, and human relationships from unexpected perspectives, and in re-examining inherited texts through contemporary, queer and East Asian lenses.
WOOF runs 17th-19th June at Etcetera Theatre – Tickets here
- Haonan, your work moves across theatre and opera. What first drew you to directing, and what keeps you excited by it now?
My journey as a director began during the pandemic, when I was locked down in my dormitory for months. I was really depressed. Wars were happening around the world, people were isolated from one another, and I felt increasingly disconnected from the world around me.
Growing up in China and later moving between different countries, I was also seeing very different narratives about the same events online. What troubled me was how quickly people turned against those who disagreed with them. Everyone seemed certain they had the truth. I became aware of how dominant narratives shape our understanding of reality, and how easily individual lives and experiences can disappear beneath them.
At a time when direct and rational conversation felt increasingly impossible, theatre became a space where those conversations could still happen. I started directing because I wanted to challenge dominant narratives and make space for people to connect, question and be heard. That desire still drives my work today.
- You’ve trained and worked across different cultural and theatrical contexts in Europe and Asia. How has that shaped the kind of director you are?
I always feel very lucky to train and make work across different places. One thing that experience has taught me is that theatre is incredibly local. Every place has its own theatrical traditions, aesthetics and relationship with audiences, and I’ve loved discovering how different those approaches can be.
I think that has made me very open to different forms and theatrical languages. I don’t feel attached to one particular style of making work. Some projects I‘ve made are text-based and driven by storytelling, while others are more visual and feeling-led. Instead, I try to approach each project on its own terms and find the form that feels most truthful to it. For me, directing is less about imposing an aesthetic and more about discovering the right language for each project.
- How do you approach creating a rehearsal room where people feel safe to explore complex questions around identity and belonging?
I think it is actually very difficult, and I’m still learning how to do it better. For me, it starts with taking time to build trust. I often begin rehearsals with exercises and small rituals that help us really see each other as people before we start making work together. My background is in Applied Theatre, where one principle that has stayed with me is the importance of protecting the participant. When exploring complex themes around identity and belonging, I try not to ask people to expose themselves personally. Instead, much of the exploration happens through character, imagination and play. I want the room to be inclusive and free from judgement, but I’m more interested in creating a brave space where people feel supported enough to take risks, bring difficult questions and stay curious.
4． Opera can sometimes feel like a very traditional form. What excites you about approaching it through a contemporary lens?
I actually agree that opera can sometimes feel distant from contemporary audiences, but I don’t think that’s because the works are old. I think it’s because many canonical operas are deeply rooted in the social and political values of the periods in which they were written. Misogyny, racism, and orientalism are embedded in many of these works. When they are presented uncritically, they can feel disconnected from the world we live in now. What excites me as a director is that the libretto and score remain the same, but the staging allows us to enter into a conversation with them. I’m fascinated by the possibilities of creating contrast between what audiences hear and what they see on stage. Through that tension, we can challenge inherited narratives, ask new questions and re-think what these works might mean to us today.
- What does it mean to you to approach work through an East Asian lens in a UK theatre context?
For me, it means two things. Firstly, I want to bring more East Asian stories into UK theatre. East Asian communities remain underrepresented on British stages, despite being a significant part of contemporary British society. I think these stories are important not only for East Asian audiences, but for anyone who wants to better understand different experiences of migration, identity and belonging.
At the same time, it is also about bringing my own cultural background into the way I interpret existing works. Many classical plays and operas deal with questions that are fundamentally human rather than exclusively Western. As East Asian artists, we can bring different perspectives to these works. This dialogue between cultures, and the possibility of continually reinterpreting these stories, is something I find really exciting.
- What first drew you to WOOF?
What first drew me to WOOF was how playful it felt when I first read it. I was immediately struck by the way Philippine uses language. There is so much humour, wordplay and subtle detail woven into the text, and through that she gradually reveals the world of these two dogs, their relationship with each other and their understanding of humans.
As I kept reading, though, I realized the play was asking much bigger questions than I first expected. As someone who loves dogs and has always dreamed of having one, I started to question myself: What does it mean to purchase a living being and keep it inside our homes? Is teaching a dog to sit, stay and obey really an act of love, or is it something about ourselves?
I think that’s what makes WOOF so unique. Through the lens of two dogs, it invites us to think about power, care, freedom and what life really means to them.
- Why do we need WOOF right now?
I think it is a play that is genuinely open to everyone. Although it begins with two dogs, it is about much more than dogs or human-animal relationships.
At its heart, it is a story about growing up and learning how to live alongside others. Throughout the play, Pup experiences frustration, loss, confusion and anger, but also develops a deeper understanding of herself, of others and of the world around him.
What I love about WOOF is that it never tells audiences what to think. Different people will connect with different parts of it. I think everyone will leave with something slightly different, and I love the openness of the piece. I hope audiences come and discover their own relationship with it.