Taiwan's veteran Mando-pop diva Chang Hui-mei (
"I was performing a concert in Chongqing at the time of the announcement and everyone, whether they knew each other or not, was hugging each other. I was truly honored to be there on stage with everyone shouting, `We got the Olympics!'"
PHOTO: TAIPEI TIMES
When the topic of her latest encounter with Chinese nationalist protesters in Hangzhou was raised, the interviewer asked whether the event had left her with any lasting impressions and whether she had learned that "there are things you can do and things you can't do?"
PHOTO: TAIPEI TIMES
She replied: "Of course. ? I know that my influence goes beyond those around me to many more people, so I need to be more cautious. I know what I should do." Indeed, if her albums don't sell any more in Taiwan, better to pave the way for a smooth future in China.
Back in Taiwan, last weekend at the Formoz Festival it wasn't performers facing the heat from the powers that be, but rather the other way round. In a manifestation of the punk spirit in Taiwan, the nation's President Chen Shui-bian (
Meanwhile in Hong Kong over the weekend, Jay Chou (
Last week Pop Stop also had a random encounter deep in the mountains of Hsinchu County with Chiang Wei-wen (
Last week Pop Stop reported on Alex To's (
And in China, authorities have nixed one of the songs on the album for lyrics that translate like this: "Where'd you learn that? Touching me so I get so swollen ? I just want it all, and if you can't do it for me, I won't love you anymore."
In the March 9 edition of the Taipei Times a piece by Ninon Godefroy ran with the headine “The quiet, gentle rhythm of Taiwan.” It started with the line “Taiwan is a small, humble place. There is no Eiffel Tower, no pyramids — no singular attraction that draws the world’s attention.” I laughed out loud at that. This was out of no disrespect for the author or the piece, which made some interesting analogies and good points about how both Din Tai Fung’s and Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing Co’s (TSMC, 台積電) meticulous attention to detail and quality are not quite up to
April 21 to April 27 Hsieh Er’s (謝娥) political fortunes were rising fast after she got out of jail and joined the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) in December 1945. Not only did she hold key positions in various committees, she was elected the only woman on the Taipei City Council and headed to Nanjing in 1946 as the sole Taiwanese female representative to the National Constituent Assembly. With the support of first lady Soong May-ling (宋美齡), she started the Taipei Women’s Association and Taiwan Provincial Women’s Association, where she
It is one of the more remarkable facts of Taiwan history that it was never occupied or claimed by any of the numerous kingdoms of southern China — Han or otherwise — that lay just across the water from it. None of their brilliant ministers ever discovered that Taiwan was a “core interest” of the state whose annexation was “inevitable.” As Paul Kua notes in an excellent monograph laying out how the Portuguese gave Taiwan the name “Formosa,” the first Europeans to express an interest in occupying Taiwan were the Spanish. Tonio Andrade in his seminal work, How Taiwan Became Chinese,
Mongolian influencer Anudari Daarya looks effortlessly glamorous and carefree in her social media posts — but the classically trained pianist’s road to acceptance as a transgender artist has been anything but easy. She is one of a growing number of Mongolian LGBTQ youth challenging stereotypes and fighting for acceptance through media representation in the socially conservative country. LGBTQ Mongolians often hide their identities from their employers and colleagues for fear of discrimination, with a survey by the non-profit LGBT Centre Mongolia showing that only 20 percent of people felt comfortable coming out at work. Daarya, 25, said she has faced discrimination since she