Against Again Troupe (再拒劇團) was founded five years ago by a group of young, aspiring theater workers. Its members have distinguished themselves from typical socially and politically apathetic 20-somethings by devoting themselves to exposing society's ills.
Turning a sober gaze on the marginalized, the company's latest work, Silent Left Hand (沉默的左手), is a rock 'n' roll musical about Southeast Asian immigrants in Taiwan. The show also features members of electronica collective KbN (凱比鳥) and alt-rock band the Blue Velvets (藍絲絨).
The story begins when the little girl in Hans Christian Andersen's The Little Match Girl dies and sets out on an odyssey in a netherworld made up of people's fear. A series of encounters with grotesque characters such as a witch and a man-dog ensues, which the musicals' creators link to events such as the inhuman treatment of Thai workers, who rioted in Gangshan Township (岡山) two years ago.
PHOTO: COURTESY OF AGAINST AGAIN TROUPE
Each encounter examines explicitly what led to the girl's demise: hatred, ignorance, inhuman treatment and discrimination. Silent Left Hand looks at both the silenced and those who choose to turn their backs on the miseries of others.
To the troupe, the work has been a process of self-examination, rather than an attempt to speak for those on the fringes of society.
"We use what is happening in Taiwan to address universal issues," said Huang Ting-wei (黃亭瑋), who co-directed the play with Huang Si-nung (黃思農). "The play doesn't attempt to give an account of the discrimination and injustice done to new immigrants, but tries to offer insight into how our fear increases in the face of 'the Other' and how fear leads to violence."
The play's music is performed by a live band made up of Jerry Fang (方宜正) of KbN, Chiang Tao (蔣韜) of the Blue Velvets and singer and songwriter Wang Yu-chun (王愉鈞), a Taipei Poetry Festival (台北詩歌節) winner. They play an intriguing mix of electronic, post-rock and folk sounds using an erhu, electric and acoustic guitars, bass and turntables.
My friends and I have been enjoying the last two weeks of revelation after revelation of the financial and legal shenanigans of Taiwan People’s Party (TPP) head and recent presidential candidate Ko Wen-je (柯文哲). Every day brings fresh news — allegations that a building had purchased with party subsidies but listed in Ko’s name, allegations of downloading party subsidy funds into his personal accounts. Ko’s call last December for the regulations for the government’s special budgets to be amended to enforce fiscal discipline, and his September unveiling of his party’s anti-corruption plan, have now taken on a certain delightful irony.
The number of scandals and setbacks hitting the Taiwan People’s Party (TPP) in such quick and daily succession in the last few weeks is unprecedented, at least in the countries whose politics I am familiar with. The local media is covering this train wreck on an almost hourly basis, which in the latest news saw party chair Ko Wen-je (柯文哲) detained by prosecutors on Friday and released without bail yesterday. The number of links collected to produce these detailed columns may reach 400 by the time this hits the streets. To get up to speed, two columns have been written: “Donovan’s
President William Lai’s (賴清德) vision for Taiwan to become an “AI island” has three conditions: constructing advanced data centers, ensuring a stable and green energy supply, and cultivating AI talent. However, the energy issue supply is the greatest challenge. To clarify, let’s reframe the problem in terms of the Olympics. Given Taiwan’s OEM (original equipment manufacturer) roles in the technology sector, Taiwan is not an athlete in the AI Olympics, or even a trainer, but rather a training ground for global AI athletes (AI companies). In other words, Taiwan’s semiconductor ecosystem provides world-class training facilities and equipment that have already attracted
Despite her well-paying tech job, Li Daijing didn’t hesitate when her cousin asked for help running a restaurant in Mexico City. She packed up and left China for the Mexican capital last year, with dreams of a new adventure. The 30-year-old woman from Chengdu, the Sichuan provincial capital, hopes one day to start an online business importing furniture from her home country. “I want more,” Li said. “I want to be a strong woman. I want independence.” Li is among a new wave of Chinese migrants who are leaving their country in search of opportunities, more freedom or better financial prospects at a