What happens at the Comedy Club tomorrow night is anyone’s guess, say members of Taichung Improv, who will perform a two-hour show there featuring more than a dozen games inspired by prompts from the audience.
“I’ll give you a secret about improv,” said Matt Bronsil, who temporarily took over the reins from Taichung Improv founder Josh Myers after Myers suffered a recent illness. “Our goal is not to be funny. Our goal is to make a story. When we focus on being funny, we look for a funny line or silly thing … It gets a quick laugh, but that is all … When we lose focus and do not build an entertaining story, the scene dies. When we do build a story, it’s full of laughter.”
To create the “stories,” the players build upon ideas elicited from audience members. An interpreter explains the rules in Mandarin before the game but doesn’t translate the dialog, which is all in English. Some acts focus on narration or storytelling; others are elimination or guessing games in which one person is sent out of the room while the others set a scene. The latter works very well, said Myers, as “the audience loves it when they’re in on the secret.”
Photo Courtersy of Ryan Harrington
The troupe uses a lot of physical comedy, said Myers, “because it is visual and with a bunch of different actors from all over the world, and an audience that has Taiwanese, but also people from all over the world — they all have different frames of reference, but we find common ground in slapstick.”
Katie Partlow, who has been with the troupe since its creation in 2009, encourages audience participants to “think out of the box — not everything has to be about sex and/or body fluids, much as some people may wish it was!”
Partlow, currently finishing a master of fine arts degree in theater performance at Taipei National University of the Arts, is also involved with Taipei Players and numerous other local theater groups and the Taipei Fringe. Myers describes her as “larger than life. She’s a fearless woman who just jumps in and we all follow.”
Her large-eyed, awkward yet eager stage presence is reminiscent of a young, female version of Steve Buscemi.
The cast of seven includes actress, vocalist, and musician Sarah Zittrer (co-founder of Taipei Players), actor Thomas van Niekerk and guest performer Brandon Thompson (also in Taipei Players), and newcomer Quenntis Ashby, who trained originally in speech and drama, then in contemporary dance and classical ballet, dancing professionally, and winning several awards before he had to retire after a performance of Cats: The Musical because of an injury.
Cast member Quenntis Ashby, an experienced actor and dancer who is relatively new to this kind of theater, said, “When improv works, it’s magical, and that happens when everyone is in the zone of comfortable alertness, or being completely in the now, the present.”
Three big changes have transformed the landscape of Taiwan’s local patronage factions: Increasing Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) involvement, rising new factions and the Chinese Nationalist Party’s (KMT) significantly weakened control. GREEN FACTIONS It is said that “south of the Zhuoshui River (濁水溪), there is no blue-green divide,” meaning that from Yunlin County south there is no difference between KMT and DPP politicians. This is not always true, but there is more than a grain of truth to it. Traditionally, DPP factions are viewed as national entities, with their primary function to secure plum positions in the party and government. This is not unusual
Mongolian influencer Anudari Daarya looks effortlessly glamorous and carefree in her social media posts — but the classically trained pianist’s road to acceptance as a transgender artist has been anything but easy. She is one of a growing number of Mongolian LGBTQ youth challenging stereotypes and fighting for acceptance through media representation in the socially conservative country. LGBTQ Mongolians often hide their identities from their employers and colleagues for fear of discrimination, with a survey by the non-profit LGBT Centre Mongolia showing that only 20 percent of people felt comfortable coming out at work. Daarya, 25, said she has faced discrimination since she
More than 75 years after the publication of Nineteen Eighty-Four, the Orwellian phrase “Big Brother is watching you” has become so familiar to most of the Taiwanese public that even those who haven’t read the novel recognize it. That phrase has now been given a new look by amateur translator Tsiu Ing-sing (周盈成), who recently completed the first full Taiwanese translation of George Orwell’s dystopian classic. Tsiu — who completed the nearly 160,000-word project in his spare time over four years — said his goal was to “prove it possible” that foreign literature could be rendered in Taiwanese. The translation is part of
April 21 to April 27 Hsieh Er’s (謝娥) political fortunes were rising fast after she got out of jail and joined the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) in December 1945. Not only did she hold key positions in various committees, she was elected the only woman on the Taipei City Council and headed to Nanjing in 1946 as the sole Taiwanese female representative to the National Constituent Assembly. With the support of first lady Soong May-ling (宋美齡), she started the Taipei Women’s Association and Taiwan Provincial Women’s Association, where she