No matter that more than 95 percent of Taipei citizens don't know what little theater means, some surprising figures--the Association of Taipei Theatres, set up just six months ago, already has 33 member companies; fourteen different theater companies put on plays in April alone; the Screen Theater, founded two and a half years ago, has gone on tour ten times; the Huan Shi Laboratory Theater has brought out an average of one new play a month for the past two years--clearly show that little theater has become the trend of the moment in the city's theatrical world.
"Overseas, little theaters have always occupied a fairly well-defined position, as indicated by some of their most salient characteristics: experimental, avant-garde, anti-mainstream, noncommercial, anti-estab- lishment, and imbued with a strong outsider feeling," says Mingder Chung, who currently teaches at the National Institute of the Arts.
Since experiment, by definition, involves "rejecting the status quo and searching for the new," both avant-garde theater (seeking aesthetic breakthrough) and progressive theater (seeking political change) are really two sides of the same coin.
Beginning with Brecht's epic theater in the 1920's, right through the theater of cruelty, open theater, environmental theater, protest theater, up to the present day, avant-garde movements have been aimed, one after another, at breaking down barriers between the audience and performers, at strengthening interaction between them, and at forcing the audience to change from passive observers to active participants. Unfortunately, audiences have tended to resist. In New York avant-garde movements have come and gone but have never been able to supplant traditional mainstream, middle-class theater.
Of course, Taiwan's workers in little theater are still in their twenties; they aren't masters of their craft steeped in theory turning out Brechtian masterpieces; and they aren't always adept at making the best use of gestures, props, and surroundings. So what audiences come away with more often than not is merely a sense of confusion and bewilderment--of sound and fury signifying nothing--that makes them feel frustrated, ridiculed, and cheated.
No matter how crude and immature the plays may be, the eagerness of little theaters to expose social ills, point out flaws in the system, and express concern for the situation between Taiwan and the mainland has already pricked the curiosity of many toward Taipei's "political theater movement." But is using avant-garde methods to vent opposition views really political theater?
Mingder Chung analyzes the question this way: "In a broad sense, all plays are political theater in that they all carry a certain ideology. In other words, even if it's Dream of the Red Chamber, the creators are bound to put their political thinking into it to some degree. Completely avoiding the mention of sensitive topics is a political stance in itself."
As for the narrow sense, "political theater is aimed at criticizing and exposing social problems and reforming the status quo." In other words, the writer sets out from a starting point of social concern and engage ment. Theater is only a tool for achieving reform within the existing system or for changing the system itself.
Basically, Chung inclines toward reform within the system. He doesn't agree with what is called art for art's sake. "Art for art's sake," he says, "is equivalent to 'art for the ruling classes.' It only lowers art to the status of a decorative product for the enjoyment of the upper and middle classes, identifying itself with the tangible and intangible rules of the ruling class." So Chung calls for raising public awareness over reform within the system.
Be that as it may, the young people who actually take part in creating little theater have a hard time resolving their complex feelings toward the relationship of politics and the theater.
"I'm against any sort of label like political theater," says Li Yung-Ping, director of the Huan Hsi Laboratory Theater and a graduate of the Department of Foreign Languages and Literature at National Taiwan University. "The mainstream in the West is still traditional, commercial theater, and labels like this are only a means that those in the mainstream use to set apart those who are not.
"I often look at society from a dissident standpoint, but it's not based on any particular political way of thinking. It's because all these are problems that concern me personally. . . . Making the people of Taiwan live better, safer, and freer lives is what concerns us most. We're all responsible."
Liu Ching-min, in charge of the U Theater Company, whose performance of The Retrial of Wei Ching-sheng set off a war of words, feels that her intentions have been misunderstood. "Our plays before were all adaptations of foreign works that explored human nature and rarely touched on politics."
The U Theater Company, in fact, was hired to put on Wei Ching-sheng by a Hong Kong art gallery that sponsored an exhibition in Taipei of paintings by mainland artists, so it was basically only a form of commercial promotion. During the short 24 days of rehearsal, however, Liu came to ask herself more and more, "What's the point in putting on a play like this in Taiwan that was written by a mainland writer for a mainland audience?" Since she didn't have time to write another play in response, she decided to have five students and alumni from National Taiwan University hold a live debate after the play on the current situation of democracy on Taiwan.
As for how much understanding she had of Peking Spring, the Formosa incident, and the democratic movements on either side of the Taiwan Strait, she says frankly, "almost none at all." She stresses, "Politics in itself was not the focus of my concern. What I wanted to fight for is the right of each individual to freedom of speech without fear."
What the trends of Taiwan's political theater are no longer seems all that important. More worthy of concern, perhaps, are the blind spots and myths that lie behind many young people's enthusiasm.
[Picture Caption]
At a press conference to protest the warning they received, the U Theater Company put on a satirical skit. The sign at left reads "warning," and the one on the right "award." (photo by Arthur Cheng)
Weird shapes, rough language, and rude gestures are some of the deliberately absurdist techniques used in Wang Patan and Wei Ching-sheng. (photo by Ore Hock Chai)
(Above) Highly charged political terms like freedom, rule by law, and civil rights often appear in little theater scripts. Shown is the Huan Shi Laboratory Theater in Desire Deceived by a Rope. (photo by Ch'en Hung-i)
(Below) The audience at little theater performances must use their imagination to capture a series of rich and ambiguous images. (photo by Pao Chih-hsiung)
The absurdity and alienation of modern society are also recurrent themes of little theater. Shown is a scene from 0:61 O'Clock by the Huan Shi Laboratory Theater. (photo by Pao Chih-hsiung)
Mencius' Mother 3000 was an attempt at social action theater, bringing art into the community and provoking public engagement and reflection. (photo by Ch'iu Kuo-kuang)
The Screen Theater Company uses comic techniques to point up the absurdity, chaos, and hopelessness of modern society, combining commercialism with the avant-garde. (photo at left by Arthur Cheng, at right by Ore Hock Chai)
Weird shapes, rough language, and rude gestures are some of the deliberately absurdist techniques used in Wang Patan and Wei Ching-sheng. （photo by Ore Hock Chai）
（Above） Highly charged political terms like freedom, rule by law, and civil rights often appear in little theater scripts. Shown is the Huan Shi Laboratory Theater in Desire Deceived by a Rope. （photo by Ch'en Hung-i）
（Below） The audience at little theater performances must use their imagination to capture a series of rich and ambiguous images. （photo by Pao Chih-hsiung）
The absurdity and alienation of modern society are also recurrent themes of little theater. Shown is a scene from 0:61 O'Clock by the Huan Shi Laboratory Theater. （photo by Pao Chih-hsiung）
Mencius' Mother 3000 was an attempt at social action theater, bringing art into the community and provoking public engagement and reflection. （photo by Ch'iu Kuo-kuang）
Mencius' Mother 3000 was an attempt at social action theater, bringing art into the community and provoking public engagement and reflection. （photo by Ch'iu Kuo-kuang）
The Screen Theater Company uses comic techniques to point up the absurdity, chaos, and hopelessness of modern society, combining commercialism with the avant-garde. （photo at left by Arthur Cheng, at right by Ore Hock Chai）
The Screen Theater Company uses comic techniques to point up the absurdity, chaos, and hopelessness of modern society, combining commercialism with the avant-garde. （photo at left by Arthur Cheng, at right by Ore Hock Chai）
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