Zhang Caihong sat cross-legged on the panelled floor, clapping to the rhythm of one of Sir Edward Elgar's Pomp and Circumstance Marches.
On the stage, her son, Zhou Jiawei, shook the maracas hesitantly, eyes fixed on the floor, despite being guided by the encouragement of a handful of violinists and percussionists.
For Zhang it was a moment when she could temporarily leave behind the autism that has disrupted her son's cognitive development and her Shanghai family's life.
'He's 20 but still behaves like a toddler. He can't speak in a normal way, he can't make eye contact with others, he can't use a straw, he can't sniffle and he can't spit,' Zhang said. 'But now he is performing in front of an audience. It's amazing. It adds the brightest colour to our lives.'
Official estimates put the number of people suffering from autism on the mainland at well above 1 million. But the condition is so little understood by the public that autistic children are often treated as though they are otherwise mentally challenged.
Autism is a developmental disability characterised by speech impairment and seizures, and those affected find it difficult to express themselves or respond to others. There is no known cure.
