The faint drumbeat and clanging of gongs, even from afar, is unmistakable. It is a familiar, ancient and distinctly Chinese noise that signifies a lion dance is not far off. In this two-person routine, one man ducks under a flashy, cartoonish lion’s head with huge batting lashes, while another is cloaked under its fur-trimmed tail (women performers are still rare). Their four legs become those of the lion, helping to animate its posture and personality. With immense agility and strength, the acrobats bring the lion to life, wildly swaying its head and body. The tinny percussions guide them as if narrating a story, at one moment trembling, the lion ready to pounce, then suddenly frenetic as the lion rears up, with one man lifting the other above his shoulders – and onlookers in rapture.

The lion dance is a traditional Chinese art form associated with Buddhism that was originally performed as entertainment for royalty in the north of China. The south, including Hong Kong, is where the ritual was used to summon luck and cast away evil with its loud and fierce displays. This style is more energetic, using brightly coloured lion heads that have dramatic moving eyelids and mouths, and a horn on the top. These lions represent legendary Chinese military generals and are distinguishable by the colours of the face, fur and tail.

Most Chinese festivals are bound to be celebrated with dozens of lion dances throughout the city, and Chinese New Year is the biggest festival of all. The requisite rituals, sometimes involving a large group of lions performing at once, are staged to give the year an auspicious boost. It is also a tradition for big businesses, no matter how modern, to hire a lion dance troupe to celebrate the opening of a new building or even to create an enjoyable commotion in the offices before the holidays.

One of the first rituals is for a VIP to dot on the lion’s eyes with paint, symbolically imbuing it with spirit. The rest of the lion’s personality and catlike mannerisms are enacted by the performers to show a variety of traits such as coyness, curiosity or pomp in a short 10-minute dance. “Picking the green” is commonly performed as the routine’s climax. For this ritual, a head of lettuce is tied to a red envelope containing cash and hung up high. The lion dances underneath for a while, inquisitively, until it finally stands tall, clamps the lettuce in its mouth, and spits back out the shredded leaves after pocketing the money. The troupe then winds through the building or outdoor parade noisily warding off bad spirits.

Rarely is lion dancing a full-time occupation. But anyone who has witnessed a high-quality dance, especially those with lions jumping across tall stilts, will appreciate that this is no activity for the amateur dabbler; rigorous marital arts training is required. Troupes are formed at kung fu schools, where lion dancing was developed in the first place, usually as an extracurricular activity. Groups of around five – two who play the lion, several on percussion instruments and one Buddha character who wears a smiling Buddha mask, holds a fan and guides the lion – attend parades and events as representatives of the school.

But this seemingly positive activity has been shrouded in controversy from ancient times up until the present day. It is believed that centuries ago, under cover of the bright costume, rebels were able to enter palaces and perform all kinds of espionage. Martial arts schools also competed with each other and battled physically with lion dances instead of all-out street brawls. More recently in Hong Kong, around the 1960s, lion dancing was strongly associated with gangster activity. Some students learning the dance were more interested in becoming good fighters than performing a traditional dance, and gangs became violent when rival troupes clashed at celebrations.

This Chinese tradition was banned in Malaysia for years and Indonesia for decades due to ethnic and religious tensions, but both bans have since been lifted. Despite all the turmoil surrounding this simple form of entertainment, the sport has been on relatively good standing in the past decade. Yet more controversy was ignited in December when requests for lion dance permits were refused in the Indonesian city of Banda Aceh for its tsunami remembrance ceremonies.

In Hong Kong today, the lion dance is respected as a sport that promotes traditional culture. Hip-hop lion dancing has emerged as a new trend, drawing laughs as the big headed Buddha breakdances and the lion moves to the heavy, synthesised beats. Troupes have also tried glow-in-the-dark costumes for nighttime performances. The variations are limitless and are often tailored to the client’s requests. Kung fu masters of old might be rolling in their graves, but modern spectators are just having a little fun rolling with the times.