With four broken fingers, Yang Shih-hao (楊世豪) lay on the ground in agony for half an hour before his friend discovered him and called an ambulance.
Yang says he couldn’t remember how many times he vomited and how many injuries he had sustained over that first year, but this was the most severe incident so far.
“For the first two years, I felt like the Cyr wheel was controlling me instead of the other way around,” Yang says.
Photo courtesy of Yang shih-hao
The 24-year-old now manipulates the acrobatic apparatus with ease. Yang calmly steps into the large metallic ring, grasping its rims as it starts spinning and rolling. Performing graceful, fluid moves using both hands and feet, it’s hard to tell that the ring weighs 16kg.
Yang recently returned to Taiwan after touring Europe as both festival and street performer. A video of him improvising to Pyotr Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake at the Avignon Festival recently went viral on Facebook — garnering more than 13 million views and 280,000 shares.
“It was very hectic and noisy there, and suddenly there was this calm performance using such a large apparatus,” Yang says. “I think it was this contrast that grabbed people’s attention.”
FROM HATS TO WHEELS
Re-invented and developed as a circus apparatus in 1996 by Cirque Eloize co-founder Daniel Cyr, the wheel is still an uncommon tool for street performers, Yang says, because it’s hard to transport and master.
“Even in Europe, where there’s a vibrant circus culture, it’s rare to see Cyr wheel performances in public,” Yang says.
During the recent trip, Yang was also invited to a Cyr wheel artist gathering, where he met all of his heroes in one go.
“Three years ago, I was practicing to their videos,” he says. “I couldn’t believe that they all showed up to that gathering.”
As one of Taiwan’s Cyr wheel pioneers, Yang had to learn how to use it on his own. Nobody taught him how to battle the dizziness, so he took motion sickness medicine and pushed through with sheer will. And nobody told him that he had to move his hand otherwise it would be crushed by the wheel — which of course eventually happened.
“I just thought it was fun,” he says. “It’s the sense of accomplishment that kept me going. When I managed to spin for more than 10 seconds, I was beyond excited. I kept telling myself, if the people in the video could do it, so could I. So I persevered.”
A graduate of the National Taiwan College of Performing Arts, Yang originally specialized in hat juggling. The Cyr wheel was just a hobby. But when former Cirque du Soleil performer Chen Hsing-ho (陳星合) invited him to the Weiwuying Arts Festival last year, he asked Yang to bring his wheel and leave the hats at home.
“I said I’d try, but I was perplexed why he didn’t want me to juggle hats,” Yang says. “But when I finished the show, I felt like I saw a new possibility in myself, as if I were a different person. I realized that I should be embracing the many aspects of myself.”
SLOW CIRCLES
Yang usually focuses on practicing before heading abroad to perform, but one can occasionally catch him at the street performance area in Xinyi District (信義) on weekends.
“In Taiwan, there’s a slowly growing circus scene,” he says. “But the difference is that in Europe, you can easily travel to other countries to perform. Here, your options are limited, plus our neighbors do not have much of a scene yet.”
He prefers to remain a street performer as he doesn’t want to be restricted by his troupe or employer, noting that his strong suit is his personal style. He also likes the intimacy of a surrounding crowd.
“Most Cyr wheel performers focus on power while mine is slow. It’s actually harder to slow down. I’ll play very soothing classical music in the background to create a relaxing experience. Audience members often tell me that it was like they just had a dream.”
With an ROC flag on his Cyr wheel case, Yang always tells people where he’s from after each performance.
“Many people actually know the difference between Taiwan and China,” he says. “I don’t need to explain it. But I always mention Taiwan because people ask me anyway.”
As Yang’s craft continues to mature, he hopes to take his personal style further. One idea is to find a way to combine hat juggling with Cyr wheeling. Another is to apply paint to the wheel so it leaves colorful rotation marks on the ground.
“It’s kind of like performance art,” he says. “But I don’t try to convey anything or add any meaning to my art. I simply do it first, and I’ll have a good story later.”
US President Donald Trump may have hoped for an impromptu talk with his old friend Kim Jong-un during a recent trip to Asia, but analysts say the increasingly emboldened North Korean despot had few good reasons to join the photo-op. Trump sent repeated overtures to Kim during his barnstorming tour of Asia, saying he was “100 percent” open to a meeting and even bucking decades of US policy by conceding that North Korea was “sort of a nuclear power.” But Pyongyang kept mum on the invitation, instead firing off missiles and sending its foreign minister to Russia and Belarus, with whom it
When Taiwan was battered by storms this summer, the only crumb of comfort I could take was knowing that some advice I’d drafted several weeks earlier had been correct. Regarding the Southern Cross-Island Highway (南橫公路), a spectacular high-elevation route connecting Taiwan’s southwest with the country’s southeast, I’d written: “The precarious existence of this road cannot be overstated; those hoping to drive or ride all the way across should have a backup plan.” As this article was going to press, the middle section of the highway, between Meishankou (梅山口) in Kaohsiung and Siangyang (向陽) in Taitung County, was still closed to outsiders
President William Lai (賴清德) has championed Taiwan as an “AI Island” — an artificial intelligence (AI) hub powering the global tech economy. But without major shifts in talent, funding and strategic direction, this vision risks becoming a static fortress: indispensable, yet immobile and vulnerable. It’s time to reframe Taiwan’s ambition. Time to move from a resource-rich AI island to an AI Armada. Why change metaphors? Because choosing the right metaphor shapes both understanding and strategy. The “AI Island” frames our national ambition as a static fortress that, while valuable, is still vulnerable and reactive. Shifting our metaphor to an “AI Armada”
The Chinese Communist Party (CCP) has a dystopian, radical and dangerous conception of itself. Few are aware of this very fundamental difference between how they view power and how the rest of the world does. Even those of us who have lived in China sometimes fall back into the trap of viewing it through the lens of the power relationships common throughout the rest of the world, instead of understanding the CCP as it conceives of itself. Broadly speaking, the concepts of the people, race, culture, civilization, nation, government and religion are separate, though often overlapping and intertwined. A government
RSS