Taiwan gained insight into the Latin aphorism ars longa, vita brevis (art is long, life is short) with LAB Space’s recent production of Tuesdays with Morrie. Directed by Taiwan-based impresario Brook Hall, the play, like the well-known memoir of the same name, treats the relationship of sports writer Mitch Albom and his former professor Morrie Schwartz as the latter faces death. Taiwan, however, got more than just a play in that process; it got an intriguing look into the symbiotic relationships that exist between art, life and serendipity.
Start with the book and biography. Certainly, no one will deny how autobiographical and biographical elements can run through art and fiction. Many of Hemingway’s novels, for example, draw both upon his and the life experiences of his friends for background.
The play differs from the book. In drama, since each production varies in director and cast, the impact will also be different. Taiwan’s production of the play had this one extra feature — Rob Schwartz, the son of Morrie Schwartz, attended performances in the last week and stayed to answer audience questions, biographical and otherwise.
Photo courtesy of Tobie Openshaw
Intermixed is serendipity. Rob Schwartz made a point of using that word in one of his answers. Working in Tokyo as Bureau Chief of Billboard Magazine, he learned of Taiwan’s production via a Facebook posting and volunteered to visit. Serendipity played a big part in the writing of the book as well. If Mitch Albom had not been channel surfing at the time he would not have learned of the debilitating condition of Morrie from Ted Koppel’s Nightline. He would also probably not have had the time for the 14 Tuesday visits with Morrie before his death except that Albom’s paper was on strike freeing up his schedule.
For his part, Hall says he was influenced by the book and wanted LAB Space to be known for more than comedies. He also had the constraints of the small theater space requiring plays with a minimal cast and he had in mind a well-known entertainer, DC Rapier, to fit the lead role. Rapier read the book and was moved by both it and the play, but the lines of the play perhaps had more impact since a friend of his had just died and Rapier himself had had a somewhat life-threatening operation. Victor Stevenson, who played Mitch, used the illness and death of his own father to help identify with his role. He and Rapier developed the needed chemistry for the play.
Rob Schwartz brought other elements in. What was it like growing up with his father? How did the family feel about Mitch? When the Schwartz family sold the house made famous by the book, his mother refused to let that be part of the advertisement, though it would have increased the value. A best seller? Several publishers had originally refused the book; it did not take off until Oprah endorsed it. Did that make it art or more what the general public wanted or both? Some people might have liked the book less if they knew of the left wing politics of Rob’s father. That element was purposely left out. And of course there were unrelated questions like, what do you feel about Doraemon?
Photo courtesy of Tobie Openshaw
The book allows for pauses and rereading; the play is bounded by a brief time span for digestion but it is live. Those who had read the memoir could make their own judgments. Rob Schwartz obviously preferred the book; it dealt with his father’s life and thought. This writer preferred the play, perhaps because the drama made the learning and change in Albom’s writing direction more poignant. Having read the book nearly a decade ago, the only specific remembrance is how Albom symbolically brought food that Morrie Schwartz could no longer eat.
Morrie Schwartz died before Albom’s book on his final “class” hit bookshelves; he would never know the full reach of the work and certainly could not have envisioned the play being shown in Taiwan. Life, reality, art, serendipity and memoir; it is all here and the LAB Space as community theater is part of it. For future projects by LAB Space, go to www.facebook.com/labspacetw.
Photos courtesy of Tobie Openshaw
This month the government ordered a one-year block of Xiaohongshu (小紅書) or Rednote, a Chinese social media platform with more than 3 million users in Taiwan. The government pointed to widespread fraud activity on the platform, along with cybersecurity failures. Officials said that they had reached out to the company and asked it to change. However, they received no response. The pro-China parties, the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) and Taiwan People’s Party (TPP), immediately swung into action, denouncing the ban as an attack on free speech. This “free speech” claim was then echoed by the People’s Republic of China (PRC),
Exceptions to the rule are sometimes revealing. For a brief few years, there was an emerging ideological split between the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) and Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) that appeared to be pushing the DPP in a direction that would be considered more liberal, and the KMT more conservative. In the previous column, “The KMT-DPP’s bureaucrat-led developmental state” (Dec. 11, page 12), we examined how Taiwan’s democratic system developed, and how both the two main parties largely accepted a similar consensus on how Taiwan should be run domestically and did not split along the left-right lines more familiar in
Many people in Taiwan first learned about universal basic income (UBI) — the idea that the government should provide regular, no-strings-attached payments to each citizen — in 2019. While seeking the Democratic nomination for the 2020 US presidential election, Andrew Yang, a politician of Taiwanese descent, said that, if elected, he’d institute a UBI of US$1,000 per month to “get the economic boot off of people’s throats, allowing them to lift their heads up, breathe, and get excited for the future.” His campaign petered out, but the concept of UBI hasn’t gone away. Throughout the industrialized world, there are fears that
The Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) controlled Executive Yuan (often called the Cabinet) finally fired back at the opposition-controlled Legislative Yuan in their ongoing struggle for control. The opposition Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) and Taiwan People’s Party (TPP) acted surprised and outraged, but they should have seen it coming. Taiwan is now in a full-blown constitutional crisis. There are still peaceful ways out of this conflict, but with the KMT and TPP leadership in the hands of hardliners and the DPP having lost all patience, there is an alarming chance things could spiral out of control, threatening Taiwan’s democracy. This is no