A weekend of all that’s good about dance at Taipei’s Want to Dance Festival

Wan Theater and other venues, Taipei
April 19-21, 2024

Since its inception in 2019, Taipei’s Want to Dance Festival ((艋舺國際舞蹈節), arranged and curated by Shinehouse Theatre (曉劇場) has become an important fixture in the city’s arts calendar, an opportunity for established artists and those newly emerging, some still at university, to present work.

This year, the penultimate weekend in April saw 68 performances from 10 to 30 minutes by 43 artists and companies, in venues across the Wanhua (or Manka) district of the city, ranging from Shinehouse’s inviting Wan Theater (a repurposed sugar factory), through small black box spaces, to locations as unusual as the Huajiang Overpass, a series of elevated footbridges over a busy road junction.

The friendly, very welcoming festival pretty much guarantees surprise, delight, frustration and more as established choreographers and dancers rub shoulders with those still emerging, some still at university. The excellent 72-page bilingual programme book revealed a wealth of things one wanted to see but, as in previous years, however much one juggled the personal schedule, it was impossible to catch everything. But Want to Dance is not only about performances, it’s an invaluable opportunity for anyone in dance to network and catch up with people.

On the Saturday, Shinehouse’s packed Wan Theater was home to three quadruple bills on the Exchange Programme, which presents home artists alongside overseas invitees.

Highlight not only of Exchange Programme 1 but of everything I caught over the whole weekend was Remainder (消亡中的餘留者) by choreographer and artistic director of D Antidote Production (身體處方), Chuang Po-hsiang (莊博翔).

Remainder is a look at time and life, through which, as Chuang’s programme note observes, we mostly wander aimlessly. He also notes that while memory is active, forgetting is passive. One can opt to remember something, but not to forget it, and that it’s inevitable that, as time passes, some things will be forgotten, some will become unfamiliar, and some will lose meaning. That’s not always clear, but while meaning might be elusive, there is something very quirky and appealing about Remainder. It’s totally engaging from start to finish.

Chuang immediately presents a surreal picture, dancers Ong Kuan Ying (王官穎) and Huang Shi-hao (黃仕豪) appearing in formal suits but with large cardboard boxes over their heads. It’s an almost Magritte-like picture. Later, in a physical imagination of time, and a metaphor for the way we build and destroy it, house-brick size ‘dominoes’ (small cardboard boxes) are hurled onto the stage, then arranged in a line before being made to collapse. In a subsequent repeat, the dancers become the final tile.

There’s lots of fine dance too. One duet in particular includes some fine partnering and great synchronicity. Towards the end, Chuang even manages to tug at the heartstrings in choreography to the Yiddish folk song ‘Kinder Jorn.’ The lyrics are about growing old and remembering childhood, which seemed very appropriate.

D Antidote Production will be presenting another work, Palingenesis, as part of the Taiwan Season at the Edinburgh Fringe this summer. It should be worth catching.

Programme 1 opened with Jerry (傑瑞) by Hunt Hsu (夯許), described as a ‘journey of self-inquiry.’ Half human, half-animal, he slithered under four suspended lights but once on his feet you could see just what a fine dancer he is. Those same lights later seem to imprison him, before he finds a sort of peace.

Connection by choreographer Yang Jimmin (楊景名) and Chun Dance (君舞蹈劇場) builds on an Open Call piece presented at the 2023 festival. Sisters Hsieh Yi-chun (謝宜君) and Hsieh Chia-hua (謝佳樺) may dance apart but there is very strong sense of tacit understanding, and indeed connection, between them. The choreography itself makes good use of unison, cannon and symmetry, the dancers clearly linked through body language, dynamic and gaze.

Exchange Programme 1 rounded off with Warrior, a solo by Anna-Mareike Hess that depicts a journey to becoming just that. As it progresses, Hess dons five items of warrior clothing made from sheets of foam (costumes by Mélanie Planchard), strutting around the stage making much use of audible breath and vocals, before adding the next. It struggles to hold the attention for long, however, it quickly becoming obvious where things are going and how long it is going to take. Marc Lohr’s headache inducing constant hum does not help. I suspect Warrior takes stamina to perform. It certainly does to watch.

Exchange Programme 2 opened with Mari-Lynn by Huang Chih-chia (黃至嘉). Inspired by moonlighting industry of the district of Taipei in which the Want to Dance Festival takes place, the opening is slow and measured, Huang in some serious stilettos and nude underwear. But then it’s as if someone has flicked a switch. With the help of several costume changes, she creates characters and mini narratives.

There are hints of desire and emotional connections. The work has a fascinating sense of time. It’s very much in the present but equally seems to carry shadows or spirits left by people long gone. The soundtrack plays an important role in painting pictures. We hear of stairways and corridors, always going up and down,’ alongside philosophical musings. ‘How you feel the eyes of those watching’ and ‘how they can hurt too.’

Co-conscious (裂) by Lo Pei-tzu (羅珮慈) is a clever very close-quarters duet that draws inspiration from dissociative identity disorder, exploring the co-existence and sometimes tug-of-war between two personalities within one individual. There’s a lot of intertwining of limbs. With dancer Zeng Zi-yin (曾子音) and the choreographer sat one immediately behind the other so that, if sat directly in front, you can only see one head and torso, the image created looks for all the world like one body, but with four arms and legs; and, occasionally, two heads. It needed great timing to make it work, and got it. Odd, slightly. Different, yes. But also curiously appealing.

Another likeable piece was Read More by Liao Szu-wei (廖思瑋). Two chairs. A woman (Chen Wei-yi, 陳薇伊) and a man (Ong Kuan Ying, 王官穎), both in black, sit facing each other. Sinatra’s ‘My Way’ plays. It’s a work about relationship and everything they entail: companionship, physicality, transformation, emotions, solitude, alienation, numbness and so much more. The connection between the two dancers is really powerful even when apart as glances, desires and needs and subtly woven together. The Sinatra even gets brought into the movement, tissues suggesting the regrets of the song being blown away.

Exchange Programme 2 concluded with Hyperspace, a third piece by British choreographer-dancer James Batchelor that grew out of an opportunity to be part of a scientific expedition to the sub-Antarctic Heard and McDonald Islands in 2016. Morgan Hickinbotham’s soundtrack certainly suggests a vast emptiness.

The choreography is huge in terms of focus and intent, yet equally microscopically detailed and fragile. Situated in a pool of light, Batchelor’s fluidly muscular body moves with precision. Everything moves with a glacial slowness. It’s a masterful display of inner control, although the emphasis throughout on minute detail rather than broader movement means that watching requires effort too.

The Want to Dance Festival opening performance featured Night Willow (柳暗) by now freelance artist Chou Chang-ning (周章佞), but who was previously a dancer and rehearsal director at Cloud Gate Dance Theatre for 26 years. The programme note refers to people moving on and how the past is like a river flowing into the sea. That may be so, but it’s influence clearly lives on in dance that is full of Lin Hwai-min’s classic style.

Chou was subsequently joined by Luo Wen-jinn (羅文瑾), artistic director of Scarecrow Contemporary Dance Company (稻草人現代舞蹈團); noted improvisation artist Ku Ming-shen (古名伸); Ljuzem Madiljin of Tjimur Dance Theatre (蒂摩爾古薪舞集); and Lee Yin-ying (李尹櫻), co-founder of Shimmering Production (微光製造), to make a quartet of women from across dance styles and generations. It all came together remarkably well. Sadly, I missed the other three in their later solo performances.

In one of the small spaces adjacent to the Wan Theater, Shih Min-wen (施旻雯) presented Mouth Fur (口毛). A duet danced with Chen Sheng-wei (陳聖崴), it purports to be about relationships and how habits are shaped by days passed. Unfortunately, its message was far from clear.

In the same space, Raven (渡鴉) by Huang Shi-hao (黃仕豪) fared rather better. A complex programme note refers to the old legend of the Tlingit, in which a raven distributes fire to humans, bringing light wisdom; how Fujin and Muni represent thoughts and memories in Norse mythology; the use of the raven symbol by Vikings; and the famous birds at the Tower of London.

Somehow abstracted from all that is a work about the heart, about encounter and separation. And there is plenty of the latter as she nuzzles him and, it seems, wants to embrace him, but is pushed away. With feelings writ large in body and face, Huang and Yeh Chieh-ju (葉潔如) were a picture in an engaging duet full of beautiful fluid dance but in a broken sort of way.

Not many shows open with the arrival of one of the classic small blue pick-ups seen everywhere in Taiwan, complete with the unusual and odd sight of a dancer’s legs peeking from under a sheet on the cab roof. It turns out three more performers are hidden under a similar sheet in the back. So opens, Memories Pickup (小藍的天空) by Resident Island Dance Theatre (滯留島舞蹈劇場), and outdoor show that combines dance and theatre with elements from everyday life.

Connections with local street culture are evident, although I didn’t get the link with the differences between the social landscape of the 1970s and 80s, but then I wasn’t in Taipei at that time. Whatever, the work is great fun; certainly one of those where you never know what is coming next. The performers even get the audience to enter the work, to interact with the performers, and to ride on the vehicle.

Resident Island Dance Theatre has developed a reputation for collaborating with and nurturing local talent in southern Taiwan, but have found it difficult to develop an audience for dance. Designed for performance in any sort of space, the company seeks to change that with Memories Pickup, which they hope to tour in the next three years, with performances in public venues, social service organisations. Allied with workshops for all ages, the company hopes to break down the barriers that dance still has. I wish them well.

There was much, much more, but on a weekend when there was so much on elsewhere, it was just impossible to get to things. I was especially disappointed to have missed Proximities by Lei Dance Theatre (艸雨田舞蹈劇場), in which French-Lao choreographer Olé Khamchanla questions human beings and their interactions with others, and the closeness that is discovered in dance that operates at the crossroads of cultures. In a first for the company, the work incorporates classical ballet for the first time.

To catch up on everything that was on offer at the Want to Dance Festival 2024, visit www.wanttodancefestival.com. The next edition is set for April 11-13, 2025.