Sept. 2 to Sept. 8
When the choir started singing Diu Diu Deng (丟丟銅仔), the ecstatic Taiwanese audience clapped, danced and sang along to the traditional folk song they had missed so much.
It was a bold decision by the Housheng Drama Research Group (厚生演劇研究會) to include the tune in its play, Castrated Chicken (閹雞). This was Sept. 2, 1943, a time when the Kominka Movement was in full swing as the Japanese colonial authorities sought to assimilate the Taiwanese and suppress their culture.
Photo courtesy of Tainaner Ensemble
Although the costumes, setting and music were distinctly Taiwanese, the theater troupe followed the rules by having the actors speak only Japanese. The addition of two Hoklo (also known as Taiwanese) folk songs delighted the audience, who pleaded for the show to go on despite a brief blackout, using flashlights to illuminate the stage.
“Folk songs are the voice of the people,” writes Lu Chuan-sheng (呂泉生), who scored the production. “The Japanese had suppressed all Taiwanese songs, and when they suddenly heard the sounds that were so dear to them, they were so moved that their hearts exploded.”
The authorities were not happy, summoning Housheng’s leader Wang Ching-chuan (王井泉) to the police station for a chat.
Photo courtesy of National Central Library
“They don’t want us to sing, so be it,” Wang reportedly said. “One day, we will be able to sing our hearts out!”
The play was allowed to continue the next day with Japanese songs, but the government shut down the theater group at the end of the year before it could put on the second half of Castrated Chicken.
CENTRAL FIGURES
Photo courtesy of Ministry of Culture
During the early days of Japanese colonization, the government let Taiwanese publish their own literature and stage their own plays, many of which promoted Han Chinese nationalism and anti-colonial ideals. This all came to an end in 1937 when the colonial masters launched the Kominka Movement.
Despite the oppressive environment, writer Chang Wen-huan (張文環) launched in 1941 Taiwan Literature (台灣文學), a magazine that sought to counter the Japanese-run publication Literary Taiwan (文藝台灣) that promoted Kominka ideals. The government banned one issue for “only writing about ordinary people, local culture, rural affairs and daily life, contributing nothing to the war effort.” The magazine was allowed to continue if it included one or two pro-war pieces in each issue.
Chang’s novella, Castrated Chicken, appeared in Taiwan Literature in July 1942, telling a tragic love story set in 1920s rural Taiwan. It was critical of capitalism, patriarchy and colonialism.
Photo courtesy of Open Museum
A few months later, a 23-year-old Lin Tuan-chiu (林摶秋) made the headlines in Tokyo by becoming the first Taiwanese playwright to have his work shown in Japan. The production, Okusansha, was set in a remote Aboriginal village.
Due to a labor shortage as Japanese men were sent to war, Lin had the opportunity to work at Toho, a film production company that would later be known for creating Godzilla in 1954. In early 1943, Lin returned home to visit family before heading to Japanese-occupied Manchuria for his job.
He immediately immersed himself in the cultural scene and directed the play Alishan (阿里山), which was so well-received that the cultural authorities ordered him to stay.
Shih Wan-shun (石婉舜) writes in Study of the 1943 Housheng Drama Research Group Taiwan (1943年台灣的厚生演劇研究會) that if Lin was the brains of Housheng, Wang was the heart. Wang was a restaurateur who was an avid supporter of the arts, which was used as the main vehicle for passive anti-colonial resistance. His banquet hall, Shanshuiting (山水亭), was a gathering place for all sorts of cultural figures, and he also served as a core member of Taiwan Literature.
SUCCESS CUT SHORT
One afternoon, Lin, Chang, Wang, Lu and several others were at Shanshuiting, angrily discussing the government’s oppression after an unpleasant meeting with the cultural authorities. Wang mentioned that despite Kominka in Taiwan, the Japanese were promoting local culture in their occupied areas across Asia to combat Western influence.
Someone suggested that they stage Castrated Chicken to symbolize the castration of Taiwanese by the colonial government. Lin agreed to adapt the play, and that night the Housheng Drama Research Group was born.
Housheng was the Chinese translation of the Japanese term kousei, which was used by the government to promote healthy leisure activities. It was a popular name for various groups and activities during that time, and seemed innocuous enough.
The group held its first meeting at Wang’s banquet hall on April 29, 1943, with 35 members present. Noted painter Yang San-lang (楊三郎) joined the team as set designer, and the group staged their first production at the Eiraku Theater, the second-largest venue in the Dadaocheng area.
After preparing for five months, the young Thespians put on four plays with Castrated Chicken as the centerpiece, drawing an estimated 10,000 spectators over six days. Two more shows were added due to popular demand.
Despite the brush with authorities, both Japanese and Taiwanese critics raved about the production, announcing “the dawn of Taiwan’s new theater movement.” However, others slammed it for violating government ideals.
As the war intensified, Japan only tightened its grip over Taiwan’s cultural scene. The government in December 1943 took direct control over all theater and literary groups, spelling the end for both Housheng and Taiwan Literature.
Taiwan in Time, a column about Taiwan’s history that is published every Sunday, spotlights important or interesting events around the nation that have anniversaries this week.
May 6 to May 12 Those who follow the Chinese-language news may have noticed the usage of the term zhuge (豬哥, literally ‘pig brother,’ a male pig raised for breeding purposes) in reports concerning the ongoing #Metoo scandal in the entertainment industry. The term’s modern connotations can range from womanizer or lecher to sexual predator, but it once referred to an important rural trade. Until the 1970s, it was a common sight to see a breeder herding a single “zhuge” down a rustic path with a bamboo whip, often traveling large distances over rugged terrain to service local families. Not only
Ahead of incoming president William Lai’s (賴清德) inauguration on May 20 there appear to be signs that he is signaling to the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) and that the Chinese side is also signaling to the Taiwan side. This raises a lot of questions, including what is the CCP up to, who are they signaling to, what are they signaling, how with the various actors in Taiwan respond and where this could ultimately go. In the last column, published on May 2, we examined the curious case of Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) heavyweight Tseng Wen-tsan (鄭文燦) — currently vice premier
The last time Mrs Hsieh came to Cihu Park in Taoyuan was almost 50 years ago, on a school trip to the grave of Taiwan’s recently deceased dictator. Busloads of children were brought in to pay their respects to Chiang Kai-shek (蔣中正), known as Generalissimo, who had died at 87, after decades ruling Taiwan under brutal martial law. “There were a lot of buses, and there was a long queue,” Hsieh recalled. “It was a school rule. We had to bow, and then we went home.” Chiang’s body is still there, under guard in a mausoleum at the end of a path
Last week the Directorate-General of Budget, Accounting and Statistics (DGBAS) released a set of very strange numbers on Taiwan’s wealth distribution. Duly quoted in the Taipei Times, the report said that “The Gini coefficient for Taiwanese households… was 0.606 at the end of 2021, lower than Australia’s 0.611, the UK’s 0.620, Japan’s 0.678, France’s 0.676 and Germany’s 0.727, the agency said in a report.” The Gini coefficient is a measure of relative inequality, usually of wealth or income, though it can be used to evaluate other forms of inequality. However, for most nations it is a number from .25 to .50