Two very different shows opened the 11th Taipei Arts Festival (第十 一屆台北藝術節). Greenray Theater’s Neckties and High-Heeled Shoes — A Musical (領帶與高跟鞋) played to an enthusiastic crowd at the Zhongshan Hall (台北市中山堂) on Friday, and despite the relative simplicity of its setting — musical accompaniment was provided by a single piano — the show took off with great energy and an easy confidence.
In the first third of Neckties, this 15-year-old production about office politics and romantic rivalry, which compares well with many of the technically more sophisticated musicals that have followed in its footsteps, seemed to have aged gracefully.
Performances by Luo Bei-an (羅北安), the show’s creator and director, and Lee Ming-ze (李明澤), as a cynical time-serving office worker and the office janitor, respectively, had comic verve, even if the jokes were well-worn.
Many of the office types are still easily recognizable, which is a rather melancholy reflection on Taiwan’s office culture — though much has changed, much remains the same.
There might have been sufficient life in this musical to carry it beyond its two-hour performance time if Luo had not directly explicated the musical’s serious themes: the destructiveness of the rat race and the pressures that women face in Taiwanese society.
Hackneyed philosophizing took over from the more than adequate light comedy of the opening sequences, and ended with an interminable dream sequence about daring to dream your dreams, which is different from actually getting out there and chasing your dream. The section expressed a degree of fatalism that emerged as a remarkable contrast to the more assertive emotions of Western musicals.
As a return to the roots from which the glittering spectacle of the Taiwanese musical emerged, Neckties was undoubtedly interesting, but it fails to find a transcendent musical expression of its serious themes — one thinks of Climb Every Mountain, which keeps even a musical as kitschy as The Sound of Music alive and kicking.
In an interview with the Taipei Times during rehearsals for Neckties, Luo had lamented the lack of mainstream stage performances that also carry a serious message. Many shows are either comic froth, or inaccessible experimental theater. As an effort to fill this gap Neckties was commendable, but it remains very much a product of its time and place.
On Saturday at the Metropolitan Hall, K.Lear, an interesting interpretation of Shakespeare’s King Lear by Marie Montegani, saw silence speak louder than words in a production that made extensive use of sign language. King Lear is a play that has much to say about the difficulties of getting across what one means and being misunderstood.
The hearing impairment of two of the main cast members drove home the themes that this production explores. Sign language contributes to the production actively, rather than being merely an aid to the hard of hearing, making the point, loud and clear, that disability, and our efforts to overcome it, can open new worlds to our understanding.
It was nevertheless unusual to have some of the most powerful of Shakespeare’s passages acted in silence. Lear’s “Howl, howl, ...” speech over the body of Cordelia was signed, with no other sound, to devastating effect, imparting new power to the familiar words.
Unfortunately, the silence also highlighted the audience’s restlessness, especially toward the end of the 135-minute performance. The lack of an intermission proved a strain for some, but gave the play, which also dispensed with the usual divisions between scenes and acts, an attractive fluidity.
With actors communicating in French and sign language, prodigious strain was put on audience members who understood neither as they tried to keep up with the rush of subtitles on either side of the stage, while watching the complex action.
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