Choreographer Huang Yi (黃翊) shows a command of movement and technology in his latest piece, Spin 2010, that belies his years. Spin 2010 is part of a four-year experimental program in combining technology and dancers and was presented as part of the National Theater and Concert Hall’s 2010 Art Images series.
The Experimental Theater was rearranged from its usual single block of tiered seating into a theater in the round, with banks of seats along all four walls and a white square stage in the middle. Large horizontal screens were affixed to each of the walls.
As the 26-year-old’s beloved two-armed crane spun around the performance space, the camera attached to the bottom of the vertical arm captured images of dancers or parts of their bodies, which were then projected onto the large screens, creating almost a 3D effect. It was almost like watching the world go by looking out of a car’s windows, but with close-ups of the action.
Although the screens were placed so that you could see the action from any seat, I felt torn between watching the dancers themselves or the projections — the screens were just high enough that you couldn’t watch both comfortably.
If the piece had been all just the video projections, it could have gotten boring, but Huang also turned off the camera to create a series of solos, duets and trios that performed under a variety of lighting effects from the LED strips in the crane arms as well as a variety of computer graphic programs. One of the programs created a mirror effect that allowed one of the men to dance with himself until he disappeared (on screen) into just a pair of hands fluttering like the wings of bird; another created almost a Rorchach ink blot look where a prone man faced off against himself, upside down.
There was a beautiful duet for Lin Yu-jun (林祐如) and a partner with moves that mimicked the melding of bodies done by the camera and computer. The pair were always linked by either their hips, shoulders or arms, moving fluidly as one.
Composer Yang Chang-ching (楊常青), who has worked with Huang on the Spin project since 2008, created a crackly, techno soundscape that meshed perfectly with Huang’s imagery.
Most of Huang’s dancers were, either like himself a graduate of seven-year program run by Taipei National University of the Arts’ College of Dance, which combines three years of high school with four years at university, or a student in the university’s graduate dance program. This long-time familiarity paid off in the ease with which the dancers performed Huang’s choreography.
As Huang feared, however, the rigorous rehearsals did take their toll and only eight of the 10 dancers planned for the work appeared in Saturday’s matinee. If the loss of the two others made a dent in the program, it wasn’t visible to the audience.
Over at the Concert Hall, it was a dream come true for a group of Puyuma Aboriginal musicians featured in On the Road (很久沒有敬我了你), a concert that took place this weekend as part of the 2010 Taiwan International Festival.
The realization of that dream — to perform on the nation’s most prestigious stage — also served as the main plot of this production, billed as one of the “flagship” programs of the National Concert Hall.
The cast was composed of Taiwan’s most renowned Aboriginal musicians, including Kimbo Hu (胡德夫), Hao-en (昊恩), Jiajia (家家), Pau-dull (陳建年) and Samingad (紀曉君), who all performed with backing accompaniment from the National Symphony Orchestra (國家交響樂團).
The musicians performed mostly traditional Puyuma songs and dances from their home village, Nanwang Tribe (南王部落) in Taitung County. The show in many ways was a tribute to Taitung and its musical culture, with a semi-documentary film featuring the musicians shown as part of the production.
The film by Wu Mi-sen (吳米森), which was shown on a large screen behind the orchestra, set up the mood for each musical number, with humorous skits featuring the musicians and a romantic sub-plot between two fictional characters.
Highlights included a number sung by the Nanwang Sisters (南王三姊妹), whose three-part harmonies blended beautifully with the string and brass orchestra, Kimbo Hu’s beloved classic, Standing on the Mountain, which garnered a rousing applause.
At times, though, the orchestra’s presence was overbearing, as the arrangements of a few songs seemed lavish and sentimental. It was clear that the producers were excited by the idea of the stage musical format, but they included too much in the program. The show, which lasted two hours, lost some momentum in the second act. In the end, it was the Puyuma musicians who kept the production rolling, with Hao-en providing comic relief with his signature sharp wit, and featuring in several soulful, gospel-influenced numbers.
The show started and ended brilliantly. Samingad interrupted the first notes from the orchestra by entering the stage from the audience seating area and regaling the room with a diva-worthy a capella performance. Her uncle, award-winning folk rocker and producer Pau-dull, brought the production to a jubilant conclusion with an operatic rendition of a traditional harvest song.
The show certainly achieved its aim: to affirm the proud musical heritage of Taiwanese Aborigines and its importance in the mainstream today. But the beauty of the music came through most clearly in the second and final encore, when the evening’s performers sang without the aid of the orchestra and invited the audience to dance and clap along. At that moment, the “dream come true” felt most real.
Last week Joseph Nye, the well-known China scholar, wrote on the Australian Strategic Policy Institute’s website about how war over Taiwan might be averted. He noted that years ago he was on a team that met with then-president Chen Shui-bian (陳水扁), “whose previous ‘unofficial’ visit to the US had caused a crisis in which China fired missiles into the sea and the US deployed carriers off the coast of Taiwan.” Yes, that’s right, mighty Chen caused that crisis all by himself. Neither the US nor the People’s Republic of China (PRC) exercised any agency. Nye then nostalgically invoked the comical specter
April 15 to April 21 Yang Kui (楊逵) was horrified as he drove past trucks, oxcarts and trolleys loaded with coffins on his way to Tuntzechiao (屯子腳), which he heard had been completely destroyed. The friend he came to check on was safe, but most residents were suffering in the town hit the hardest by the 7.1-magnitude Hsinchu-Taichung Earthquake on April 21, 1935. It remains the deadliest in Taiwan’s recorded history, claiming around 3,300 lives and injuring nearly 12,000. The disaster completely flattened roughly 18,000 houses and damaged countless more. The social activist and
Over the course of former President Ma Ying-jeou’s (馬英九) 11-day trip to China that included a meeting with Chinese Communist Party (CCP) leader Xi Jinping (習近平) a surprising number of people commented that the former president was now “irrelevant.” Upon reflection, it became apparent that these comments were coming from pro-Taiwan, pan-green supporters and they were expressing what they hoped was the case, rather than the reality. Ma’s ideology is so pro-China (read: deep blue) and controversial that many in his own Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) hope he retires quickly, or at least refrains from speaking on some subjects. Regardless
Approaching her mid-30s, Xiong Yidan reckons that most of her friends are on to their second or even third babies. But Xiong has more than a dozen. There is Lucky, the street dog from Bangkok who jumped into a taxi with her and never left. There is Sophie and Ben, sibling geese, who honk from morning to night. Boop and Pan, both goats, are romantically involved. Dumpling the hedgehog enjoys a belly rub from time to time. The list goes on. Xiong nurtures her brood from her 8,000 square meter farm in Chiang Dao, a mountainous district in northern Thailand’s