It is hard indeed to know what to expect of the Bulgarian production of Puccini's opera Turandot, due to play in Taipei and Kaohsiung over the next two weeks.
First there is the question of Eastern European opera companies. Some of them are starved of cash and forced to offer 30-year old productions sung by soloists who themselves are also a little past their sell-by dates. But others, such as the State Opera Poland who visited Taipei in 2002, and inexplicably attracted such tiny audiences, were outstanding, certainly in their two leading soloists. You never, in other words, know quite what you're going to get.
Then there's the opera itself. It's both a great classic and potential landmine. After enormous success in his early years, Puccini lapsed into silence and near-failure in middle-age, suddenly coming up, however, with this extraordinary work as he lay dying. He never finished it, but it was completed by a colleague and many listeners believe it's his masterpiece.
PHOTO COURTESY OF KHAM
It tells a tale of a sexually frigid Chinese princess who decapitates all suitors who fail to answer her three riddles. But herein lies the problem. Bringing European Chinoiserie dating from 1926 to a real Chinese society 80 years on — the whole project bristles with difficulties and occasions for the acutest embarrassment.
Reading about the Sofia National Opera isn't an experience that decides you one way or the other. This production, for instance, has recently been seen in the Johnson County Community College, Kansas, at the Zeiterion Theater in New Bedford, Massachusetts, and courtesy of the Concert Association of Wilmington (population 60,000) in Delaware. That it's showing in Taipei at the less than state-of-the-art Sun Yat-sen Memorial Hall theater isn't ultimately encouraging either.
But then you never know. A country that produced a soprano like Anna Tomowa-Sintow can't by any means be written off. Opera needs scenery, however drab, and costumes, however dowdy, if its curious magic is to stand a chance of coming off. With the NSO Ring set to be largely in a concert version (though with the supremely magnificent and not-to-be-missed Linda Watson in the leading female role), opera buffs eager for the whiff of peeling sets and threadbare wigs may just be in for a bonanza with this possibly Ruritanian, but equally possibly enthralling, Turandot.
It's four years since any agent brought a fully-staged foreign opera production to Taiwan. Previously the practice was rather common, but then with the economic down-turn they all got cold feet. This time there will be 150 people involved — instrumentalists, chorus-members, stage-hands and soloists — with the scenery arriving in separate consignments on two cargo ships. This, then, is hardly imported opera on the cheap. However much the show may lack celebrity international names, it will in some sense be the real thing. It's only coming to Taiwan, incidentally, and as a cultural exchange is likely to have a rather particular Taiwanese flavor.
The production is double-cast — two sets of soloists will alternate in the main roles. On Sept. 20, Sept. 22, Sept. 23 and Sept. 24 at 7.30pm in Taipei, and on Sept. 29 and Sept. 30 at 7.30pm in Kaohsiung it will be as follows: Turandot — Bayasgalan Dashnyam; Timur — Svetozar Rangelov; Calaf — Kostadin Andreev; Liu — Sofia Ivanova. On Sept. 21 at 7.30pm and on Sept. 23 and Sept. 24 at 2.30pm in Taipei, and on Sept. 28 at 7.30pm and Sept. 30 at 2.30pm in Kaohsiung it will be as follows: Turandot — Elena Baramova; Timur — Dimitar Stantchev; Calaf — Kamen Chanev; Liu — Tsvetana Bandalovska.
Being Puccini, and being Turandot in particular, tickets, even at these rather high prices, are likely to sell briskly. Will it be a genuinely moving experience, good for a laugh, or a little bit of both? In the final analysis, this remains just about anybody's guess.
Performance Notes:
The Sofia State Opera's production of Puccini's Turandot plays at Taipei's Sun Yat-sen Theater on Sept. 20, Sept. 21, Sept. 22, Sept. 23 and Sept. 24 at 7.30pm, and on Sept. 23 and Sept. 24 at 2.30pm. In Kaohsiung it plays at the Chiang Kai-shek Cultural Center on Sept. 28, Sept. 29 and Sept. 30 at 7.30pm, and on Sept. 30 at 2.30pm.
Ticket prices in Taipei are from NT$1,200 to NT$4,800, and in Kaohsiung from NT$800 to NT$3,600. Seats can be reserved by calling (07) 7403-466, or by visiting www.ticket.com.tw, or applying in person at any Kingstone bookstore.
Taiwan has next to no political engagement in Myanmar, either with the ruling military junta nor the dozens of armed groups who’ve in the last five years taken over around two-thirds of the nation’s territory in a sprawling, patchwork civil war. But early last month, the leader of one relatively minor Burmese revolutionary faction, General Nerdah Bomya, who is also an alleged war criminal, made a low key visit to Taipei, where he met with a member of President William Lai’s (賴清德) staff, a retired Taiwanese military official and several academics. “I feel like Taiwan is a good example of
Institutions signalling a fresh beginning and new spirit often adopt new slogans, symbols and marketing materials, and the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) is no exception. Cheng Li-wun (鄭麗文), soon after taking office as KMT chair, released a new slogan that plays on the party’s acronym: “Kind Mindfulness Team.” The party recently released a graphic prominently featuring the red, white and blue of the flag with a Chinese slogan “establishing peace, blessings and fortune marching forth” (締造和平,幸福前行). One part of the graphic also features two hands in blue and white grasping olive branches in a stylized shape of Taiwan. Bonus points for
“M yeolgong jajangmyeon (anti-communism zhajiangmian, 滅共炸醬麵), let’s all shout together — myeolgong!” a chef at a Chinese restaurant in Dongtan, located about 35km south of Seoul, South Korea, calls out before serving a bowl of Korean-style zhajiangmian —black bean noodles. Diners repeat the phrase before tucking in. This political-themed restaurant, named Myeolgong Banjeom (滅共飯館, “anti-communism restaurant”), is operated by a single person and does not take reservations; therefore long queues form regularly outside, and most customers appear sympathetic to its political theme. Photos of conservative public figures hang on the walls, alongside political slogans and poems written in Chinese characters; South
Taipei Mayor Chiang Wan-an (蔣萬安) announced last week a city policy to get businesses to reduce working hours to seven hours per day for employees with children 12 and under at home. The city promised to subsidize 80 percent of the employees’ wage loss. Taipei can do this, since the Celestial Dragon Kingdom (天龍國), as it is sardonically known to the denizens of Taiwan’s less fortunate regions, has an outsize grip on the government budget. Like most subsidies, this will likely have little effect on Taiwan’s catastrophic birth rates, though it may be a relief to the shrinking number of