Chi Wei-jan (紀蔚然) was 30 when he first considered writing a play about four friends playing mahjong. But an over-reliance on the game's technical terms meant Chi focused too much on the game at the expense of characterization. It was a case of a young playwright getting bogged down in an abstract subject that requires a tremendous amount of knowledge — one that would confuse rather than edify the audience. Six years and seven drafts later, Chi was fed up.
"I said screw it. Forget about the mahjong — the image [on the stage] itself is powerful enough," he said. "Instead, I talk about [the character's] lives."
As mahjong lessened in importance, Chi said, the character's personalities became clearer, enabling him to finish the eighth and final version. This was over a decade ago.
PHOTO: COURTESY OF CHI WEI-JAN
First performed in 1997, The Mahjong Game (夜夜夜麻) caused a sensation because of the language employed and the play's music, which features iconic music of the 1970s such as Bob Dylan's Slow Train Coming. It also caused a stir because the themes investigated by Chi — the lives of men in middle age and the nostalgia they feel for their college days — had never been covered before.
The first in a series of three thematically related plays written by Chi, The Mahjong Game is a situational piece that investigates the disenchantment four men in their fifties have towards their lives. The second play, Deja vu (驚異派對), is similar to the first in that the game is a pretext for a gathering of men, but this time in their forties. The third and final play will be staged sometime in the fall and will examine the lives of those in their thirties.
The first two plays are currently running at the Metropolitan Theater.
Chi calls The Mahjong Game semi-autobiographical because the lives of the characters along with their concerns mirror his own.
"It is about their frustrations, about what they are right now, their present situation and the nostalgia about the past back when they were college students. They were so idealistic [then], but now it's gone."
Plays that explore generational differences have been done before, but rarely is a play written and performed that deals with contemporary concerns of Taiwanese adults using a language that could be found in the office or over a game of mahjong.
"It will be challenging for the audience and exciting because the actors will use vulgarity on the stage," said Li Huan-hsiung (黎煥雄), director of The Mahjong Game.
Li embellishes the play with music from the era. "I use almost the whole song of Led Zeppelin's Stairway to Heaven, which is mentioned by one of the characters in the play and I make it a six-minute long opening," Li said. "It was a wild idea 10 years ago," he added.
Deja vu, directed by Katherine H. Chou (周慧玲), follows the lives of four forty-something men, a generation that Chi says is radically different than his own.
"This group of people [enjoyed] success very young. They enjoy political success, economic success ... all kinds of success that when I was their age there was no way I could make it," he said.
Chi says that if members of the first generation are nostalgic about the past, those of the second generation are confident about their position in society.
"The first group of people are just really disappointed about their lives and in the second play, these guys are just complacent about what they have achieved," Chi said.
But for Chi, there is a downside to their confidence and complacency.
"They also feel frustrated because they know their lives ... are not doing well spiritually."
May 18 to May 24 Pastor Yang Hsu’s (楊煦) congregation was shocked upon seeing the land he chose to build his orphanage. It was surrounded by mountains on three sides, and the only way to access it was to cross a river by foot. The soil was poor due to runoff, and large rocks strewn across the plot prevented much from growing. In addition, there was no running water or electricity. But it was all Yang could afford. He and his Indigenous Atayal wife Lin Feng-ying (林鳳英) had already been caring for 24 orphans in their home, and they were in
On May 2, Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) Chairman Eric Chu (朱立倫), at a meeting in support of Taipei city councilors at party headquarters, compared President William Lai (賴清德) to Hitler. Chu claimed that unlike any other democracy worldwide in history, no other leader was rooting out opposing parties like Lai and the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP). That his statements are wildly inaccurate was not the point. It was a rallying cry, not a history lesson. This was intentional to provoke the international diplomatic community into a response, which was promptly provided. Both the German and Israeli offices issued statements on Facebook
Even by the standards of Ukraine’s International Legion, which comprises volunteers from over 55 countries, Han has an unusual backstory. Born in Taichung, he grew up in Costa Rica — then one of Taiwan’s diplomatic allies — where a relative worked for the embassy. After attending an American international high school in San Jose, Costa Rica’s capital, Han — who prefers to use only his given name for OPSEC (operations security) reasons — moved to the US in his teens. He attended Penn State University before returning to Taiwan to work in the semiconductor industry in Kaohsiung, where he
Australia’s ABC last week published a piece on the recall campaign. The article emphasized the divisions in Taiwanese society and blamed the recall for worsening them. It quotes a supporter of the Taiwan People’s Party (TPP) as saying “I’m 43 years old, born and raised here, and I’ve never seen the country this divided in my entire life.” Apparently, as an adult, she slept through the post-election violence in 2000 and 2004 by the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT), the veiled coup threats by the military when Chen Shui-bian (陳水扁) became president, the 2006 Red Shirt protests against him ginned up by
RSS