After gaining acclaim in the fields of fashion and nude photography, Australian photographer James Houston turned to observing dance. As a great piece of choreography does not necessarily make a great photograph, Houston invited members of three of Australia's leading dance companies -- the Australian Ballet, the Sydney Dance Company and the Bangarra Dance Theatre -- to his studio "to direct my own ideas rather than just shoot predictable `dance shots' that have been used to capture dancers for years."
The results of exposing 600 rolls of black-and-white film over five days are displayed in the Rawmoves exhibition at Cherng Pin Gallery on Tunhua South Rd., as well as an NT$1,750 book with the same title.
As Houston is mainly known as a body and nude photographer -- culminating in an earlier book, Raw, and the official calendar for the 2000 Sydney Olympic Games -- it should come as no surprise that he focuses mainly on the dancers' forms.
PHOTO COURTESY OF THE AUSTRALIAN COMMERCE AND INDUSTRY OFFICE
"I didn't want it to be just about dance. I wanted it to be different. I wanted ... to create images and compositions that captured emotion and form," Houston says in his Rawmoves book.
It is debatable, however, how much of a dancer's emotion a photographer can capture when directing the subject in a studio for one or two days, especially when one lacks a background in choreography (Houston studied ceramic, sculpture and design and took up photography as a hobby 10 years ago).
In the roughly 40 prints that are exhibited, Houston shows excellence in technique as well as in capturing dancers when airborne. Most of the group compositions, however, show a lack of choreography, with limbs interlocking to little effect.
PHOTO COURTESY OF THE AUSTRALIAN COMMERCE AND INDUSTRY OFFICE
In the series on the Australian Ballet, placing less importance on the human form and more on costumes might have improved the works, as well as providing more of a variety to Rawmoves.
Despite this, Rawmoves provides an interesting, if highly personal, snapshot of the contemporary dance scene in Australia, which is enhanced by videos of performances by the three groups that are shown in the gallery throughout the day.
When nature calls, Masana Izawa has followed the same routine for more than 50 years: heading out to the woods in Japan, dropping his pants and doing as bears do. “We survive by eating other living things. But you can give faeces back to nature so that organisms in the soil can decompose them,” the 74-year-old said. “This means you are giving life back. What could be a more sublime act?” “Fundo-shi” (“poop-soil master”) Izawa is something of a celebrity in Japan, publishing books, delivering lectures and appearing in a documentary. People flock to his “Poopland” and centuries-old wooden “Fundo-an” (“poop-soil house”) in
Jan 13 to Jan 19 Yang Jen-huang (楊仁煌) recalls being slapped by his father when he asked about their Sakizaya heritage, telling him to never mention it otherwise they’ll be killed. “Only then did I start learning about the Karewan Incident,” he tells Mayaw Kilang in “The social culture and ethnic identification of the Sakizaya” (撒奇萊雅族的社會文化與民族認定). “Many of our elders are reluctant to call themselves Sakizaya, and are accustomed to living in Amis (Pangcah) society. Therefore, it’s up to the younger generation to push for official recognition, because there’s still a taboo with the older people.” Although the Sakizaya became Taiwan’s 13th
For anyone on board the train looking out the window, it must have been a strange sight. The same foreigner stood outside waving at them four different times within ten minutes, three times on the left and once on the right, his face getting redder and sweatier each time. At this unique location, it’s actually possible to beat the train up the mountain on foot, though only with extreme effort. For the average hiker, the Dulishan Trail is still a great place to get some exercise and see the train — at least once — as it makes its way
Earlier this month, a Hong Kong ship, Shunxin-39, was identified as the ship that had cut telecom cables on the seabed north of Keelung. The ship, owned out of Hong Kong and variously described as registered in Cameroon (as Shunxin-39) and Tanzania (as Xinshun-39), was originally People’s Republic of China (PRC)-flagged, but changed registries in 2024, according to Maritime Executive magazine. The Financial Times published tracking data for the ship showing it crossing a number of undersea cables off northern Taiwan over the course of several days. The intent was clear. Shunxin-39, which according to the Taiwan Coast Guard was crewed