June 5 to June11
It was the late 1930s and Teng Yu-hsien (鄧雨賢) was unhappy with what the Japanese colonial government had done to his hit Hoklo (commonly known as Taiwanese) songs Flowers in a Rainy Night (雨夜花), Yearning for Spring (望春風) and Sadness in a Moonlit Night (月夜愁). It had only been a few years since he shot to fame as one of Taiwan’s top four Hoklo pop composers as an in-house musician for the Japanese-run, Taipei-based Columbia Records.
The Hoklo music scene was thriving before the government launched its Japanization policy around 1937. But after the policy shift, not only was Teng stifled creatively, his top three hits had been rewritten into the Japanese military marching songs Calling of the Earth, The Honorable Soldier and The Soldier’s Wife, respectively. It wasn’t just the lyrics, as no trace of the original wistful and romantic arrangement was left.
Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons
In addition, during the early 1930s, Teng had spent considerable time traveling throughout Taiwan, doing field research on traditional folk music that he had hoped to incorporate into his work. With strict regulations on melody and lyrics under the new rules, all his effort was for naught.
A frustrated Teng quit his job in 1940 and moved his family to what is today’s rural Hsinchu County to teach at an elementary school. He continued to write music, organized a local band and helped with student performances during school fairs. But as the war went on and resources dwindled, Teng’s health worsened, leading to his premature death at age 38.
MUSIC FOR THE MASSES
Photo: Wang Wen-lin, Taipei Times
Teng was born in 1906 to a scholarly Hakka family that followed an ancestral motto: Do not practice medicine, do not serve the government. As a result, Teng, like many in his family, became a teacher. Although he was Hakka, Teng grew up in Taipei, and became fluent in Japanese and Hoklo.
Having been fascinated with music since he was a child, Teng had other aspirations. At the age of 24, he quit his respected teaching post and went to Japan to study music. Although he studied Western music, he wanted to write Hoklo pop songs to appeal to the masses.
“I feel that not only musicians, but painters and writers as well, often feel that art only belongs to themselves,” he said during a conference in 1936. “They distance themselves from the general public and may even look down on them. If possible, I hope that artists can move closer to the people, as it is what they are meant to do.”
Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons
“Currently, art in Taiwan has become entertainment for just a portion of white-collar workers. This needs to improve,” he added.
Teng was wary about promoting Western music in Taiwan, as he believed that people were not sophisticated enough to appreciate it.
“We should improve the melodies and lyrics of existing Taiwanese music, such as Taiwanese opera. I’ve been working on this for four or five years already,” he said.
Photos courtesy of Wikimedia Commons
In 1932, he penned the promotional song for the Chinese movie Peach Blossom Weeps Tears of Blood (桃花泣血記), which is widely considered Taiwan’s first Hoklo hit. His other famous tunes were produced in the next few years, and it’s easy to imagine that he would have accomplished much if his life had not been cut short.
LASTING LEGACY
Japan’s defeat in 1945 did not revive Teng’s work. Bent on eradicating Hoklo and Japanese influences and promoting Mandarin, the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) banned his songs along with countless others throughout the White Terror period. Still, the songs persisted and never disappeared. A notable event took place during the 1979 Kaoshiung Incident, when Chiu Chui-chen (邱垂貞), a musician and politician who sought to use Hoklo folk songs in his opposition against KMT rule, sang Yearning For Spring during the political protest that turned violent and landed him in jail for four years.
Teng’s name, however, was largely forgotten. According to a report in the Liberty Times (the Taipei Times’ sister newspaper), even in 1996, when Changhua High School named a building “Yu-hsien Hall,” many people questioned why they would choose a “non-famous person.” A music teacher even asked, “Who is Teng Yu-hsien?”
When Teng’s name was finally revived, he was no longer a pop wunderkind. He was instead honored as the “Father of Taiwanese Folk Songs.” In 2006, National Central University’s Lulin Observatory named an asteroid its staff discovered after Teng. His pop songs are now classics that are still frequently covered by modern artists in many languages.
Taiwan in Time, a column about Taiwan’s history that is published every Sunday, spotlights important or interesting events around the nation that have anniversaries this week.
Nine Taiwanese nervously stand on an observation platform at Tokyo’s Haneda International Airport. It’s 9:20am on March 27, 1968, and they are awaiting the arrival of Liu Wen-ching (柳文卿), who is about to be deported back to Taiwan where he faces possible execution for his independence activities. As he is removed from a minibus, a tenth activist, Dai Tian-chao (戴天昭), jumps out of his hiding place and attacks the immigration officials — the nine other activists in tow — while urging Liu to make a run for it. But he’s pinned to the ground. Amid the commotion, Liu tries to
A dozen excited 10-year-olds are bouncing in their chairs. The small classroom’s walls are lined with racks of wetsuits and water equipment, and decorated with posters of turtles. But the students’ eyes are trained on their teacher, Tseng Ching-ming, describing the currents and sea conditions at nearby Banana Bay, where they’ll soon be going. “Today you have one mission: to take off your equipment and float in the water,” he says. Some of the kids grin, nervously. They don’t know it, but the students from Kenting-Eluan elementary school on Taiwan’s southernmost point, are rare among their peers and predecessors. Despite most of
A pig’s head sits atop a shelf, tufts of blonde hair sprouting from its taut scalp. Opposite, its chalky, wrinkled heart glows red in a bubbling vat of liquid, locks of thick dark hair and teeth scattered below. A giant screen shows the pig draped in a hospital gown. Is it dead? A surgeon inserts human teeth implants, then hair implants — beautifying the horrifyingly human-like animal. Chang Chen-shen (張辰申) calls Incarnation Project: Deviation Lovers “a satirical self-criticism, a critique on the fact that throughout our lives we’ve been instilled with ideas and things that don’t belong to us.” Chang
Feb. 10 to Feb. 16 More than three decades after penning the iconic High Green Mountains (高山青), a frail Teng Yu-ping (鄧禹平) finally visited the verdant peaks and blue streams of Alishan described in the lyrics. Often mistaken as an indigenous folk song, it was actually created in 1949 by Chinese filmmakers while shooting a scene for the movie Happenings in Alishan (阿里山風雲) in Taipei’s Beitou District (北投), recounts director Chang Ying (張英) in the 1999 book, Chang Ying’s Contributions to Taiwanese Cinema and Theater (打鑼三響包得行: 張英對台灣影劇的貢獻). The team was meant to return to China after filming, but
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