The Taipei Crossover Dance Company (台北越界舞團) proved the old showbiz maxim of “the show must go on” on Saturday night, undeterred by the rain and winds brought by Typhoon Sinlaku.
It was a damp and hardy few — probably less than 200 — who ventured to the Novel Hall to see the double bill by choreographer Zhang Xiao-Xiong’s (張曉雄), but they were well rewarded.
The program began with Zhang’s 2006 elegy, The Floating Life (浮生). A darkly dramatic ensemble piece for 15 dancers about war, death and love, the choreography was a mix of powerful solos, moving duets and poised tableaux, set against a dramatic crimson-sunset looking backdrop.
The star of the piece was Wu Chien-wei (吳建緯), who is just an amazing dancer. It was the first time I had seen him perform, apart from a press conference, and he gave a finely nuanced performance that belied his youth.
Another dancer who is a delight to watch is Lin Yu-ju (林祐如). Off-stage she is slender and of average height, but on stage she is a strong, commanding presence, with a terrific technique and emotional intensity.
The second half of the program was The Autumn Song (秋歌), an older man’s reflections on youthful love. It begins with Zhang, his back to the audience, gazing intently at a woman standing with her back against the bare back wall of the stage. That woman was Cheng Shu-gi (鄭淑姬), one of the founding members of the company.
Two more couples appeared, Wu and Chang Tzi-yu (張慈妤), Chang Lan-yun (張藍勻) and Li Tzong-hsuan (李宗軒), while Lin’s role was the single woman.
Wu and Chang Tzi-yu cavorted and flirted across the stage in their first duet, with lots of lifts, turns and embraces. They were first love personified, a couple unable to keep their hands off each other.
Chang Lan-yun and Li’s first duet made it clear that they were still in love, but past that first stage. You could feel the doubts and regrets beginning to creep in.
Lin was every older wife’s nightmare, the younger woman whose youth and vitality have older men making fools of themselves. It was wonderful to see Zhang dance, it made me wish I had seen him when he was performing years ago in Australia.
Unfortunately, he didn’t really give Cheng much to do, besides look wistful. I would have liked to see more of her, but then this was an older man’s memories of youth.
I’d also like to give a carrot and a stick to Novel Hall . It’s a wonderful little theater, especially for dance performances. There are also the unexpected touches, such as booster cushions on offer for pint-sized audience members and stoles and blankets for those who find the air-conditioning too much. Those blankets went fast on Saturday.
But since most of those who braved Sinlaku had given themselves extra time to make it to the theater and began crowding up the lobby from 6:30pm onwards, why couldn’t the rules have been bent to allow people to be seated before the usual half-hour prior to the start of the performance? This would have been especially helpful for those who wanted to freshen up a bit because the bathrooms are all upstairs from the lobby. One Taipei Crossover staff member did have a box of tissues he was handing out, but it wasn’t the same as grabbing some paper towels to pat yourself dry.



