The buzz was immediate: A new venue for audacious work was born.
Since then, theater lovers have been arriving in droves, sometimes as early as the afternoon, where the adjacent cafe, Empty Cup Coffee, offers a bohemian environment for idle chat on the serious art of drama, surrounded by rows of books and wall-to-wall posters of the performing arts.
The DrumTower West Theater, tucked away in a traditional alleyway, has become a favorite hangout for the city's young, hip and theatrically aspiring.
Meanwhile, Li attributes her choice of repertory style to a later offering, How I Learned to Drive. Not only was she fascinated by the work itself, with its subtle depiction of the suspicious relationship between an uncle and his teenage relative, but she enthused about Paula Vogel, the writer who came to Beijing and gave a mesmerizing lecture.
For her production of The Censor, a 1997 British play, to mark the theater's two-year anniversary, Li has turned to crowd sourcing.
Ten of her friends joined in, including many media professionals who are fans of theater and her venue in particular.
"The biggest challenge in running such a house is the limited resources that can be put into promotion," says Li.
Chinese theater goers are accustomed to big-house shows that run for a couple of nights, but for an extended run that lasts 20-30 days she needs people who can spread the word to a larger clientele base.
"I learn something from every play I've done," says Li.
"The Censor is not just about the audience watching the action on the stage, but also about how they react to it, what they see and what they get from it. It's more than the surface content of sex."
Unlike some in theater circles, Li does not complain about the proliferation of lowbrow comedies on the Chinese stage.
"They have a reason to exist. Some people truly love this kind of theater."
In fact, Li is contemplating a new lineup of comedies to add to her existing, mostly dark works.
"I'll call it 'low comedy' as a tongue-in-cheek description, but I want humor that is anything but low."
Li is thinking of plays like The Housekeeper by American playwright James Prideaux, which centers on a writer and his new acid-tongued housekeeper, and builds towards a hilarious crescendo.
She hopes a comedy series like that will attract wider viewership.
She says her house broke even by the end of 2015 when her initial investment was amortized, but each production takes 40-50 performances to recoup its cost. That is no small feat considering that some of the city's more established small houses have closed down in recent years. She is also considering national tours for some of her pieces and venturing into bigger and more commercially suitable works for larger venues.
"I'm pushed forward by those around me. I'm surrounded by friends who are more knowledgeable than I am in this field," says Li, who cautions against giving short shrift to today's theater patrons.
"They are in touch with the latest and the best in the world. That puts pressure on us to present the highest quality in terms of the repertory we select."
