Imagine a world where cultural experiences aren't just passive viewing but an interactive spectacle drawing millions into shared moments of creativity and performance—welcome to the explosive rise of group live streaming in China!
In 2025, cultural consumption has evolved into a cornerstone of everyday life, reflecting deeper shifts in how we engage with entertainment. One standout trend is group live streaming, where multiple performers collaborate on-screen in dynamic shows that blend dance, singing, and other talents into a cohesive, real-time experience. This format isn't just a fleeting fad; it's becoming a vibrant cultural phenomenon that's reshaping how we connect through media.
The origins of group live streaming can be traced back to the early days of live-streamed talent shows, but it didn't truly take off until around 2021. Initially, these streams were pretty basic—think simple dance routines shot against unadorned backgrounds with unchanging lights and just one camera capturing the action. Picture a group of performers moving in sync on a plain stage; it was functional, but lacked the polish to captivate a broad audience.
Fast forward to this year, and the scene has transformed dramatically. On platforms like Douyin, related hashtags have racked up over 100 million views, catapulting group live streaming from an underground niche into the spotlight of mainstream culture. Projections from the China Association of Performing Arts estimate the market will hit a whopping RMB 15 billion (that's about USD 2.1 billion) in 2025 alone. It's like watching a small spark ignite into a full-blown bonfire!
Platforms are stepping up to fuel this growth. In September, Douyin unveiled a bold plan to foster over 100 top-tier, unique content groups that adhere to high industry benchmarks by the end of the year. Their goal? To cultivate a diverse ecosystem spanning various categories, scenarios, and regions, setting a blueprint for the entire industry to follow. But here's where it gets controversial: Is this initiative democratizing creativity, or could it stifle authentic voices by imposing too many standards? We'll explore that tension as we dive deeper.
This booming opportunity has lured in a wave of new players, and Changjing Media is one prime example. In a recent chat with 36Kr, founder Li Shuai shared how his team started as enthusiastic viewers. Frustrated by the sameness in many streams, they decided to create their own. Founded in 2023, Changjing Media officially plunged into the world of group live streaming, but it wasn't smooth sailing.
Li admits the initial hurdles were steep. Without established strategies or a seasoned crew, they were flying blind. Through lots of experimentation, they began to carve out a path. Many might think group live streaming is as easy as grabbing a phone and hitting record—'Anyone can do it!' But Li's take flips that notion: 'It's definitely not just about rounding up some talented folks and pointing a camera at them.'
To truly grasp the intricacies, let's break it down for beginners. Group live streaming typically involves several performers in the same space, showcasing skills like dancing or singing. Changjing Media initially thought bigger groups meant more excitement, so they tried ensembles of over ten. But the reality? Coordination became a nightmare—formations were hard to execute, and camera shots struggled to highlight individual performers, leaving viewers struggling to remember anyone distinctly. It's like trying to follow a crowded party where no one stands out.
After rigorous testing, they landed on seven to nine performers as the sweet spot. This number strikes a balance, allowing for intricate choreography while ensuring each participant gets meaningful screen time. It harmonizes the group's energy with individual charisma, making the whole experience more memorable and engaging.
Talent recruitment is equally strategic. Changjing Media collaborates with institutions like Jilin University of the Arts, tapping into students trained in rhythm, body control, stage presence, and discipline. These performers also bring 'camera intuition'—an innate sense of how to perform for the lens—and teamwork skills honed through rehearsals. For instance, think of how a dancer might adjust their movements to suit close-ups or wide shots, ensuring the performance translates seamlessly online.
Yet, they don't just take anyone on board. There's a rigorous vetting process. Dance specialists undergo a live stream adaptability test, evaluating on-camera expressiveness and script-learning skills. Successful candidates then attend a quick training session before streaming. Those without formal backgrounds face an even more thorough evaluation, covering posture, learning potential, basic movements paired with interaction techniques, and mock streams to check stability under the 'lights.' Only the top performers advance, ensuring top-notch quality.
Once selected, performers benefit from a personalized development program. 'We brought in trainers with over five years of experience to polish performance skills, camera presence, and interaction abilities,' Li explained. This setup helps each talent grow, turning raw potential into polished stars.
Now, here's the part most people miss—the behind-the-scenes magic that makes 70% of the production happen off-camera. While some companies focus heavily on the performers and neglect the support team, Changjing Media flips the script, prioritizing the backstage crew. This includes hosts, camera operators, lighting experts, operations managers, and specialists in styling, creative direction, and costumes. It's a reminder that great on-screen action relies on an unseen army of professionals.
Take camera work, lighting, and styling as key pillars. A single weak element can ruin the whole vibe. For example, if the camera fails to follow a performer's swift moves, viewers miss crucial details, and the impact fizzles. Poor lighting might make performers look artificial, clashing with the show's mood. And mismatched costumes? They disrupt the immersion, pulling you out of the experience entirely. These details are crucial for maintaining that 'wow' factor.
But it's not just about owning the gear—expertise is paramount. Camera operators dive deep into the content, syncing their shots with performance rhythms. They hold weekly sessions to dissect successful industry examples, not to copy them, but to understand how certain angles amplify a performer's strengths or build tension through movement. Then, they tailor plans to each performer's unique style, deciding when to zoom in for drama or use wide shots for grandeur. The lighting team mirrors this approach, ditching generic setups for custom ones that align with each show's theme, like using warm hues for uplifting songs or dramatic shadows for intense routines.
Creative direction drives the heart of the content. This team manages planning, structure, and innovation, while instructors run daily rehearsals of two to three hours. These sessions are filmed, analyzed, and tweaked to perfect choreography, spatial logic, and emotional depth. And this is where it gets controversial: As professional troupes like the Shaanxi Provincial Song and Dance Troupe and the Ningbo Yong Opera Troupe enter the fray, raising standards, is this elevating the industry or creating an elitist barrier that leaves amateur creators behind? Changjing Media's strict methods have positioned them well, but what about smaller players?
2024 was a pivotal year for Changjing with their proprietary label launch. After churning out generic streams, they realized many groups lacked distinct personalities. Constant style changes confused audiences, making it hard to build loyalty. So, they crafted their own brand, emphasizing unique aesthetics, rich cultural elements, and clear identities. To support this, they poured millions into upgrades: three fixed cameras, a professional jib for fluid transitions, and over 200 lighting fixtures inspired by big TV music shows. Li noted they aimed for stage-level specs because visual quality is non-negotiable in traditional performances—without it, even stellar content falls flat.
Every stream follows a meticulous creative process. Performers don't pick what to perform; the team curates based on audience demands for coherence and depth. Two weeks of planning precede one week of rehearsals, culminating in a full dress rehearsal the day before airtime, simulating every aspect from cameras to costumes. Post-broadcast, the entire team—performers, operators, directors, and tech staff—gathers for feedback, ensuring continuous improvement.
On the business front, Changjing Media is branching out beyond live streams to include stage shows, short dramas, and offline gigs like competitions and exhibitions. Their next move? Blending live streams with in-person performances, potentially creating hybrid events that merge digital and physical worlds.
KrASIA Connection features translated and adapted content originally published by 36Kr. This piece, authored by Li Xiaoxia for 36Kr, highlights the evolving landscape of entertainment. What do you think—will group live streaming revolutionize global culture, or is it just a bubble waiting to burst? Does the emphasis on professionalism stifle creativity, or is it the key to sustainable growth? Share your thoughts in the comments; I'd love to hear your take! Whether you agree with the rising standards or see room for more DIY approaches, let's discuss.
