VIEW THIS PAGE After being banned in China, Oasis will perform in Taipei on Friday, April 3, sources in the concert-promotion and music industries said.
The concert was originally to be held at Banciao Stadium in Taipei County (台北縣立板橋體育場) but may now be held at the Taipei World Trade Center (TWTC) Nangang Exhibition Hall. Details have not been finalized because the band is still negotiating with promoters, said the sources, who had not received permission to speak with the media.
Information regarding the Taipei concert that was deleted last week from www.ticket.com.tw and a blog run by Sony can be found using Google’s cache function. Oasis’ MySpace page was updated yesterday to include dates in Seoul and Singapore, but not Taipei.
According to a statement on the band’s MySpace page, the Brit-pop supergroup was to play Beijing on April 3 and Shanghai on April 5.
“[R]epresentatives from the Chinese government have revoked the performance licenses already issued for the band and ordered their shows in both Beijing and Shanghai to be immediately canceled,” the statement reads.
“The Chinese authorities’ action in canceling these shows marks a reversal of their decision regarding the band which has left both Oasis and the promoters bewildered.”
Oasis performed at a Free Tibet concert in 1997. Footage on YouTube shows Noel Gallagher singing Wonderwall in front of a Tibetan flag.
Last March, China’s Ministry of Culture said it would tighten regulations on foreign artists after Bjork shouted “Tibet, Tibet!” during a concert in Shanghai. This week marked the 50th anniversary of the failed 1959 Tibetan uprising against Chinese occupation. VIEW THIS PAGE
UPDATE: Tickets for the Oasis concert at the Taipei World Trade Center (TWTC) Nangang Exhibition Hall are now available. Visit www.ticket.com.tw/dm.asp?P1=0000009516 or call (02) 2341-9898 for more information.
Nov. 11 to Nov. 17 People may call Taipei a “living hell for pedestrians,” but back in the 1960s and 1970s, citizens were even discouraged from crossing major roads on foot. And there weren’t crosswalks or pedestrian signals at busy intersections. A 1978 editorial in the China Times (中國時報) reflected the government’s car-centric attitude: “Pedestrians too often risk their lives to compete with vehicles over road use instead of using an overpass. If they get hit by a car, who can they blame?” Taipei’s car traffic was growing exponentially during the 1960s, and along with it the frequency of accidents. The policy
Hourglass-shaped sex toys casually glide along a conveyor belt through an airy new store in Tokyo, the latest attempt by Japanese manufacturer Tenga to sell adult products without the shame that is often attached. At first glance it’s not even obvious that the sleek, colorful products on display are Japan’s favorite sex toys for men, but the store has drawn a stream of couples and tourists since opening this year. “Its openness surprised me,” said customer Masafumi Kawasaki, 45, “and made me a bit embarrassed that I’d had a ‘naughty’ image” of the company. I might have thought this was some kind
What first caught my eye when I entered the 921 Earthquake Museum was a yellow band running at an angle across the floor toward a pile of exposed soil. This marks the line where, in the early morning hours of Sept. 21, 1999, a massive magnitude 7.3 earthquake raised the earth over two meters along one side of the Chelungpu Fault (車籠埔斷層). The museum’s first gallery, named after this fault, takes visitors on a journey along its length, from the spot right in front of them, where the uplift is visible in the exposed soil, all the way to the farthest
The room glows vibrant pink, the floor flooded with hundreds of tiny pink marbles. As I approach the two chairs and a plush baroque sofa of matching fuchsia, what at first appears to be a scene of domestic bliss reveals itself to be anything but as gnarled metal nails and sharp spikes protrude from the cushions. An eerie cutout of a woman recoils into the armrest. This mixed-media installation captures generations of female anguish in Yun Suknam’s native South Korea, reflecting her observations and lived experience of the subjugated and serviceable housewife. The marbles are the mother’s sweat and tears,