National Taiwan University of the Arts: Emancipate & Millennium Dance

Arts Center, National Taiwan University of the Arts, New Taipei City
March 25 & April 2, 2023

The graduation performances continued apace in Taiwan with the National Taiwan University of the Arts (NTUA, 國立臺灣藝術大學), who run two BFA programmes.

At the start of April, Emancipate (野放自造), the evening students’ performance mentored by Lin Wen-chung (林文中) and under the artistic directorship of Li Hui-wen (李蕙雯), proved an excellent couple of hours of dance. It opened with the beautifully thoughtful Verlassen (塃山跍) by NTUA faculty member Chien Hua-bao (簡華葆), which comes very much from the same choreographic pot as his recent Metaphor (影曦嶽) for Youth Ballet Ensemble of Taiwan (臺灣優勢力芭蕾舞團). Even the costumes are near-identical.

An opening female solo matches perfectly the undercurrents of pain in Franz Schubert’s Piano Trio No.2, to which it’s danced. Even when the initially just watching ensemble join is, she seems alone, looking away. There’s a resignation that she knows she has to go. Indeed, the title means to leave or abandon and, sure enough, that’s what she finally does.

Among the best of the student contemporary works was Personality by Qiu Gan (邱芉), which oozed just that. With dancers in colourful everyday clothes, it was youthful and full of life. A little bit cheesy, a little bit sassy, it came with lots of use of gesture, plenty of attitude, and was hugely enjoyable.

But the honours were taken by I forgot when was the last time I…* (忘了最後一次___是什麼時候) by Chou Yong-jun (周泳君), who dared to include a dash of narrative. A man and woman fight. Later, as he is left on his own, the suggestion is that this may have been the past and she’s now left. The backing ensemble of six women very effectively act as a sort of chorus, amplifying, magnifying his feelings and thoughts.

Elsewhere, Nothingness* (虛無現象) by Chou Yong-jun (周泳君) featured six dancers apparently falling through space and time, followed by a second part that was very tense and on edge. A Journey of Light* (光的旅程) by Xu Pei-yun (徐珮芸) made use of hand-held lights as the cast sought the dawn and, appropriately given the stage of life they are at, the way to the journey ahead. There was also something of a seeking a path in Dragonfly* (蜉) by Wang Hao-jing (汪好靜).

In the West, ‘Chinese dance’ is sometimes talked about lazily as though it’s one homogenous style. But China is a massive country of many ethnicities and traditions and its classical and folk dance comes in many forms from flowing, graceful and delicate, to powerful, macho and very dramatic.

Emancipate included three impressive and varied pieces by Chen Bai-xuan (陳柏瑄). Most dramatic was Patrol* (將巡), which opened with a female cornered by seven fearsome-looking warriors and trying to escape. After some stirring dance from the latter, she is indeed captured and is last seen being led away in chains. Bravery* (驍勇) included the use of floating fans that left am incredible blur as they were waved furiously. Some impressive acrobatics too. And, more delicately, Smoke and Rain* (煙雨), which had lots of pleasing patterning and featured traditional umbrellas.

Of the others, Elapse Quickly* (芢苒) by Zhang Yun-yu (張芸瑜) was delicate and a little dreamy as it lived up to its title. Song* (曲) by Chou Yong-jun (周泳君) was a little vague but equally pleasant with a sense of journey. Blessings* (祝福) by Zhang Huai-chun (張淮淳), meanwhile, was very bright and vibrant, the cast making super use of equally colourful small, hand drums. The costumes suggested a Northern China origin.

Emancipate concluded in triumphant style with Vivid Colour* (豔蒼茫) by faculty member Bao Er-ji (寶爾基). A dance from Mongolia, it evokes a place of huge landscapes and big skies. It builds beautifully. An opening sees the large cast rolling across the stage as if brushwood being gently blown across a barren wilderness before they are tossed more violently, ending up in a giant upstage heap. Calm not only then comes, but the mood gets increasingly celebratory and the dance ever more thrilling, full of energy, full of life, and with lots of jumping, as it more than lives up to its title on the way to its uplifting conclusion. A fine way to end a fine show.

NTUA has always tended to give students a wide rein in graduation shows, letting their creative juices flow more freely than most. That certainly felt so in the daytime students’ Millennium Dance (千禧曼波), mentored and directed by Chen Wu-kang (陳武康), performed the previous weekend. Comprised entirely of student choreography, it did look and feel different to most.

It’s an admirable approach but, when you have inexperienced choreographers as well, can lead to issues. While all the around ten-minute works here were full of good intentions, they were not always communicated. Some felt a little naive, some struggled for structure, some lost their way. There was lots of promise, just not always fulfilled.

When they walked in, despite the obvious digital clock counting down to the millennium, I suspect few realised initially that 19991231235959 by Xu Ren-zhi (徐仁臸) was underway. Amidst a few individuals filming the audience as they walked around with phones attached to faces looking like a cross between an alien and a terrorist, the only memorable thing was a prolonged, extremely high-pitched sound followed by a droning that was equally painful. It caused more than a few to ram fingers in ears. Quite how anyone thought this a good idea is beyond me. By all means question what dance could or might be, but it is not ‘anything goes’; and, in my book, with virtually no performative movement, this was definitely not it.

Things did pick up. Best of the pieces by far was Wa Sacred Sacrifice* (佤靈祭) by (Amanda) Tseng Chieh-lan (曾睫嵐). A philosophical note referred to the end of life not meaning that the spirit leaves too, and it certainly had an almost ritual, men versus women, Rite of Spring feel about it. With the women in red, hair down, flying everywhere, and the men in black and blue, it was rammed with energy and drive. Some seriously impressive partnering included on male lifting and wrapping his female partner around him at impressive speed.

More excellent, considerate partnering came in the evening’s only ballet piece, Luna by Ding Chen-xi (丁晨晞). Putting the dancers in blue and grey against an all-black background, very much gave it the feeling of taking place on the surface of a distant place, or even the moon. After two balanced sections, a very short third felt odd musically and choreographically, however.

The contemporary Prayer by Hsu Dong-jun (許東鈞) also had a slightly ritualistic feel at times, especially in its circular formations. A combination of grounded floorwork and lighter moments it was a bit of a curious mix but oddly appealing. The intriguing Refined* (煉) by Xu Wei-tong (徐瑋彤), meanwhile, was just that. Making much use of small hand-held bells, it felt somewhat shamanistic.

Both Chinese dance pieces were beautiful and pleasing. In Jasmine Blossom* (清茉初綻) by Wu Xuan-ni (吳宣妮), the performers really did evoke the flowers that decorated their gorgeous green and white long dresses. Bright, sunny and airy, it featured some super patterning and use of the ensemble, something Taiwanese students almost always seem to be good at. Much the same went for the gracious and calming Rushing Water* (沄沄) by Hsu Ya-han (許雅涵), where the dancers in blue really did evoke a running stream, the sole performer in orange a fish, perhaps.

Elsewhere, Let yourself go for half a day* (放過自己半天) by Su Ci-yu (蘇慈鈺) took us from work to beach, starting with the cast in formal white shirts and dark trousers but ending with the cast having a jolly time shrieking and shouting in skimpy beachwear. RooM – I* by Xu Wei-tong (徐瑋彤) promised much with its bright costumes and single light on a cord, and Finally* (連載，終) by Li Qin-ling (李沁綾), which included a tag game, both remained something of an enigma.

The closing Low Cloud* (雲低處) by Hsu Dong-jun (許東鈞) was collection of widely varied ideas, and an eclectic mix of costumes including four green and orange, child-like, bug-like, affairs and a man and woman with what could be wedding dresses attached to their chests. It featured much ‘marching’ to counting out loud and ended with the cast throwing themselves at the back wall as if trying to break free. It couldn’t have been a comment on dance training, could it?

Millennium Dance and Emancipate mark an end but also a beginning; a new chapter in the young dancers’ careers. Some may go on to perform professionally, some may teach, some may be lost to dance completely. Whatever, we wish them well.

* Not advertised English titles but translations provided by the choreographer, performance director or the author’s own attempt.