Chun Dance: Whispers of the Late Blossom

Barn 169 Theater, Taoyuan, Taiwan
April 20, 2025

Founded in 2012, Chun Dance (君舞蹈劇場) is dedicated to nurturing local dance performers in Taoyuan, a city around 25 miles west of Taipei. In her latest work, Whispers of the Late Blossom (荼蘼), founder and artistic director Hsieh Yi-chun (謝宜君) muses that, while we are constantly met and measured by others’ expectations, perhaps we should sometimes pause and look at ourselves, at the uniqueness that resides in all of us.

The title is in part a reference to Rosa odorata, a variety of wild rose that blooms in late spring and frequently appears in Chinese literature. Building upon the core imagery of the red skirt and bare back from her Quand Le Corps S’exprime, the piece similarly seeks to explore the resilience and tensions of female life, intertwining the choreographer’ s personal life experiences with movement, using dance to portray the emotional depth and inner strength of women.

Over the work’s 50 minutes, Chun and her fellow dancers Zhou Jia-pei (周佳霈), Hsieh Chia-hua (謝佳樺). Liu Po-yin (劉柏吟) and Chang Yu-wen (張瑜文) weave a delicate landscape.

Whispers of the Late Blossom begins with the choreographer herself looking back through their time and writing themself a letter in dance. The movement, though fluid, tugs in all directions, reflecting the chaos of life. Her face and body are incredibly expressive. Later sections consider social expectations and roles, the baggage we all carry, emotions and identity, although the intent and meaning of scenes is rarely explicit, Hsieh leaving the audience plenty of space to interpret for themselves.

When four of the dancers waft a large sheet of thin, translucent plastic, it looks remarkably like waves on the sea, which I’m sure could also be heard in Hans Tsai Bing-heng’s (蔡秉衡) gentle score. Good use is also made of a red beaded screen that a duet couple frequently pass through.

The whole cast come with a lovely quality, dancing with grace and fine lines. The choreography is appealing, if a little one-paced. Except, that is, for a faster section for two of the dancers in white trousers that is full of hands-on partnering and that comes with an increasing air of tension before it slows and calms once more, which I read as the battle with expectations and its resolution, and the comfort of companionship.

When the plastic sheet returns, it’s impossible to see yet more turbulence in life. Again manipulated by four of the cast, the fifth ‘drowns’ in its stormy waves before being left on stage alone.

A final section sees everyone in red skirts, a vibrant splash of colour in the otherwise monochrome palette. It’s celebratory and upbeat. A release in many ways. The skirts swirl beautifully as the dancers turn. A flower motif is evident in the movement. Finally, one is carried atop another’s shoulders, trailing a long red train. It’s a striking image.

Finally, a word on the intimate but excellent venue that is the Barn 169 Theater (米倉劇場). Built as a rice warehouse in 1936, the building has Dutch-style brick walls, large-span wooden roof frames, and ventilated windows to prevent deterioration of the grain that used to the stored there. Designated a historic building in 2017, it’s now restored as a fully-equipped 150-seat performance space. An interesting exhibition in the foyer details the history and restoration.

Chun Dance will be at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe this year as part of the Taiwan Season. Trace of Belief (痕跡) by Hsieh Yi-chun is at Assembly at Dance Base from July 31 to August 24, 2025.