Cloud Gate Dance Theatre in Sounding Light

Cloud Gate Theater, Tamsui, Taiwan
April 10, 2025

Like so many choreographers, the Covid pandemic prompted Cloud Gate Dance Theatre (雲門舞集) artistic director Cheng Tsung-lung (鄭宗龍) to look afresh at the world. He has explained several times that the self-isolation of mandatory quarantine after returning home from the company’s early 2020 tour, a time when human noise was greatly reduced, even in the relatively unrestricted Taiwan, prompted him to listen to the sounds of nature. The result was Sounding Light (定光), what was his first full-length work for the company after taking over as artistic director from founder Lin Hwai-min (林懷民) earlier that year.

In a way it is very minimalistic. A white-floored stage is bounded by off-white walls on all three sides. There’s no technical wizardry. Not, that is, unless you count Lulu W. L. Lee’s (李琬玲) magical lighting that looks like dappled sunlight hitting the ground, the rays having filtered through an unseen tree canopy. You can almost feel its warmth.

For much of the work there is no instrumental or electronically produced music either. Instead, the dancers themselves provide much of the soundscape. Indeed, for the first half, until a single light bell is heard, all of it.

Cheng and the dancers worked with composer Chang Shiuan (張玹) to explore how breath and vocals could be used to mimic sounds in nature. The result is that we hear the surprisingly realistic sound of cicadas and the chirping of birds, the sounds all made by the dancers as they move.

Added to that is percussion that comes from stamping on the floor (when done quickly sounding rather like the pitter-patter of rain), slapping their bodies and rhythmic clapping. Cheng also employs the sounds of Hoklo, also known as Taiwanese.

From the moment the upstage group of dancers slowly awaken, the dance itself is indeed like watching a day in the life of a forest. And, like nature, Cheng’s choreography is very complex, full of beauty and special moments.

Individuals and couples repeated emerge from the ensemble that splits, divides and regroups in ever-changing formations and patterns. The spellbinding opening solo by Huang Mei-ya (黃媺雅) is full of delicate twisting and turning. All parts of the body seem to be on the move although the delicate and precise fingerwork particularly catches the eye.

Fashion designer Chen Shao-yen’s (陳劭彥) body art also catches the attention. The costumes themselves are simple, but each dancer has different coloured marking painted on their backs with natural colouring that smears and wear off as the work progresses.

As the backing group slowly gains momentum, their dance a free-flowing mix of unison, canon and rippling effects that can be read as the breeze or running water, Huang was joined by Hsu Chih-hen (許誌恒), their dance quite playful in mood as they weave in and around each other.

A solo by Chang Pei-cheng (張珮湞) is a little sharper. When she’s joined by Wang Chun-hung (王鈞弘), stamping and slapping his chest in display of virility, the dance speaks loudly of a mating ritual. He fails to win her, though, and when she wanders off, Wang finds himself in a contest with the other men, a fight to see who is the leader of the pack, perhaps. It was right here that a thought occurred. Cheng may be showing us a dance take on the natural world, but is it so different from the human world?

Sounding Light keeps giving. A super duet between Fan Chia-hsuan (范家瑄) and Huang Po-kai (黃柏凱) is full of effortless, graceful and smooth supports and lifts. When longtime collaborator Lim Giong’s (林強) music cuts in another solo sees the dancer’s hands almost always touching but forming different shapes through clenched fists, flexed wrists and more.

A solo by Chang Hung-mao (張宏茂) is very tai-chi and martial arts influenced. Another by Lee Tzu-chun (李姿君) makes you wonder how she, and the others, dance so terrifically, with such control, while whistling, making bird-like calls and vocalising in other ways. At one point, and in two lines, they clap in time as they dance too.

Finally, twilight comes. A single bird calling, insects clicking. Shadows edge across the stage as the sun fades and the light falls. Slowly, one by one, the dancers, the creatures whose world we have been privileged to see, take their leave, but not without leaving beautiful pictures etched in the mind.