It is late September, and the weather in Taiwan shows no sign of cooling. The Paper Windmill Theatre group has chosen this time to introduce their rendering of Wu Song Fights the Tiger, providing a last hurrah to children reluctantly facing the start of the school year.

The stage lights flicker thrice to announce the start of the show, and the audience quietens down and focuses on the stage. Seven years ago, when PWT first performed Wu Song Fights the Tiger, tickets sold out in three days. This time, the group has put great effort into reconceptualizing the play, adding chanting sequences to the interludes and rendering actions normally depicted onscreen with 3-D effects to create new sights and sounds for the audience.

The theater group's Witches series has created the lasting stage star Wu Ding. Pictured is the scene "It's a Small World."

The liveliest children's theater group

In May, PWT gave their major performance of the year, putting on 101 Dalmatians at the Metropolitan Hall in Taipei. The show began with slides of adorable puppies, but with the faces of theater staff pasted on to their bodies. Everyone in the hall roared with laughter at these surprising images. In the midst of the laughter, the curtain was raised to show a realistically rendered forest scene. Silently, three wild and primitive figures began to depict the meeting of human ancestors with wolves--the ancestors of dogs.

The pace of the performance followed the movements of two actors garbed as wolves, interacting with another garbed as a wild boar. The exaggerated movements of the actors along with humorously mispronounced Taiwanese words inserted here and there provoked hearty laughter.

Then, the main play, the classic 101 Dalmatians, started up. The group's trademark "black light theater" resulted in a beautiful dreamlike world as the storyline proceeded to the accompaniment of song and dance. All of the props and scenery were created virtually via beams of colored light. In the scene when the two thieves break in and steal all of the puppies, even the fireplace disappeared as if by magic, to amazed gasps from the audience.

During the intermission, a third play about dogs--Erlang and Xiao Tian Dog Battle Sun Wukong--was to bring even more fresh sights. A backdropless stage became suddenly filled with Sun Wukong, Erlang, Xiao Tian Dog, and Wukong's magic cloud, as figures in black beat gongs and drums and manipulated large paper lanterns, their rhythmic movements provoking enthusiastic shouts from the audience.

The portion of the evening allowing for the most audience interaction was a surprising sequence about dogs racing to catch the wind. As the lights came on, custom-made, 180-centimeter-tall giant dogs, including bull terriers, bulldogs, and poodles, were brought out. The audience was asked to pass the dogs up to the stage. Everyone took part joyfully in the game, even those on the second and third levels of the performance hall.

Over the last ten years Paper Windmill Foundation has worked with youth theaters on over 400 workshops attracting 900,000 participants. The Youth Short Drama Competition has given young theater enthusiasts a stage to perform on. Pictured is Paper Windmill Theatre director Wu Nien-jen participating in one of the workshops.

A labor of love

Over the past years, PWT has been spreading its infectious joy and gaining increasing renown for its work. The group's home is in a bright, modern high-rise that, when visited by this reporter, turned out to be a cramped space of a little over 30 square feet, office space for only four or five administrative staff. It is not easy keeping the group going, even though PWT can justifiably claim a pre-eminent place among Taiwanese children's theater groups.

Next to the office is a high-ceilinged rehearsal space, from which emanate animated shouts. This is the foundation's only rehearsal space, shared with the Green Ray Theatre and the Wind Flyers Dance Laboratory, who also occupy the same floor. Even so, the present situation is much better than the rented school halls and public parks the group was forced to use in the early days.

To date, over a million people have attended performances put on by PWT; the group's growth has been the steadiest among children's theater groups in Taiwan. They receive NT$500,000 from the National Culture and Arts Foundation, NT$1.5 million from the Council for Cultural Affairs, and NT$500,000 from Evergreen Marine Corporation each year, as well as corporate sponsorships for individual performances. However, even though the PWT has never faced the prospect of bankruptcy, it must still put on over 120 performances annually to ensure adequate income.

Although 101 Dalmatians premiered amidst a sluggish theater season, its nationwide tour of 36 performances drew 100,000 theatergoers and earned NT$3.2 million. Jen Chien-cheng, who heads up the Paper Windmill Theatre, relates that while in previous years the group's 20-some members would arrive at a location the day before for adequate rest and preparation, this time around cost-cutting meant taking a 5 a.m. train the day of the performance to make it on time. He laments this year's rising consumer prices, which have forced working parents to become more frugal. As a result, ticket sales at children's theaters are down.

Fortunately, Taiwanese theater has always been resilient. For many years now, PWT has learned to stand on its own, refurbishing old props in an effort to cut costs. Not only have its ticket prices not increased, they have even decreased as part of an effort to attract its core audience. The group has also made efforts to develop educational material and affiliated merchandise to create new sources of income.

The fifth installment in the theater group's renowned Witches series--Wu Ding Around the World--features the moving and beautifully portrayed story of the Little Match Girl. The story not only allows children to explore their senses, it also captures parents' hearts and turns many into children's theater lovers.

Finding talent

In order to keep the theater going and maintain its popularity, the Paper Windmill Theatre needs to introduce at least two large-scale works each year. However, the gradual decline in the numbers of actors and other theatrical personnel in Taiwan has made it difficult to bring out innovative, well-produced pieces.

Take 101 Dalmatians, a play led by the young members, as an example: though discussions on how to present the play started early in the year, one month before showtime the format was still being decided on and props had yet to be constructed. In the end, experienced members of the theater group stepped in and guided the play to its successful completion. Unfortunately, the haste in which the play was put together resulted in some complaints from loyal theatergoers about what they considered unoriginal black light theater techniques, glimpses of props and cloth linings in the darkness that broke the illusion of the performance, and the lack of a running musical score.

"Finding talent will always be our biggest challenge," says Jen, who has degrees in theater studies from National Taiwan University of Arts and, at the masters level, from the University of Jean Moulin Lyon 3 in France. Even though he was one of the founding members of the theater group, he still began by working in administrative and menial capacities. By contrast, today's university students can gain a wealth of theoretical knowledge from books or from the Internet and can speak glibly about the theater, but they lack practical abilities, not to mention the commitment to stick with a lifestyle that features long hours and low wages.

Last year PWT recruited a group of graduating set designers, but only one ended up passing muster. The rest were unable to even measure out a cloth set correctly. Even worse, many today treat the theater as a springboard towards other career paths or more theoretical programs of study abroad. None of this helps Taiwanese theater as it seeks to take root and flourish.

In a departure from traditional Chinese material, the Paper Windmill Theatre tried out Don Quixote, by the 17th-century Spanish author Cervantes. Director Lee Yung-feng utilized seven different types of sets, from a rotating stage and the manipulation of light and shadows, to the inclusion of large puppets and the imaginative depiction of flying horses to express the romance, fantasy, and unyielding spirit of the knight Don Quixote.

Giving kids the best

Looking back on its history, one sees that PWT has always adhered to its original vision. "Children need children's theater, and Taiwan needs its own children's theater, says Paper Windmill Foundation CEO Lee Yung-feng. In the early years, he recalls, Taiwan lacked a native, creative theater scene. Instead the theatrical world simply modeled performances abroad or invited foreign theater groups to perform in Taiwan. Little thought was given to the impact of these transplanted performances on children's cultural self-identification. The theater group continues to ponder how it may proceed from a creative point of view to promote children's enjoyment of a truly Taiwanese children's theater.

In those early days, the world of children's theater in Taiwan was like a desert. The appearance of PWT thus caused quite a stir. Its first large-scale production, the 1993 performance of Magic Toyhouse, a play set to orchestral accompaniment, was heartily received. Then, anticipating the release of the film Jurassic Park, which introduced pioneering computer animation effects, PWT rushed to bring out its second major work, Tyrannosaurus Rex. Even though the topic was not an original creation, the group integrated a variety of performance styles into they play, giving the audience something new.

Lee Yung-feng sees the stage as a three-dimensional fantasy box containing unlimited creativity and dramatic potential for the artist to discover. He encourages the bold fusion of music and dance, magic, black light, puppetry, and multimedia techniques to broaden children's horizons and enrich their imaginations.

Reflecting long-held ideals, Lee says, "We shouldn't see the children's theater as simply a place to tell stories. Nor should we imagine that since the audience is made up of children we should simplify the material or the way it is presented."

Through years of training, PWT has gained acclaim among audiences for its creativity. Most prominently, the group introduced the series Witches and Wizards in 1998, with Jen in the title role of chief wizard. The American Witch is Not at Home, the first play in the series, has taken its place among the group's classic works as a "Taiwanese Harry Potter." Children gape in amazement at its fantastical plot, which features flying broomsticks and magical games. Wu Ding, the star of the show, would speak in English during performances in the US, and in Cantonese during performances in Hong Kong and Macao, delighting audiences greatly.

In a scene from 101 Dalmations where the dogs chase the wind, giant dogs constructed out of balloons float towards the audience, a device that allows interactivity and brings the performance to its climax.

Taking root

"With a little thought, we can discover endless creative possibilities for our performances. However, it is the originality of the works themselves that we prize the most," says Jen.

Unfortunately, Taiwanese theater has been lacking in playwrights and original scripts over the years, with existing plays unable to keep pace with the diverse demands of Taiwanese theater groups. Because of this, the Paper Windmill Theatre has often had to do the next best thing, adapting stories from Taiwanese and foreign folk tales and popular literature. Such works have included Sun Wukong Battles the Ox-Demon King, Wu Song Fights the Tiger, Madam White Snake, and The Adventures of Don Quixote.

Jen realizes that the theatrical world is different from the real world, and that entering into it requires long-term exposure. Thus, aside from its array of performances, PWT also emphasizes cultivating the audience itself. In the past 14 years, PWT has brought up many loyal audience members, many of whom have grown up to bring their own children to the theater. In this way, an enduring source of strength for Taiwanese theater is being built up.

Not only that, 11 years ago PWT began to go into the schools. On the one hand, this has given its members a deeper understanding of how children think. On the other, it gave the group an opportunity to run three-day workshops for teachers interested in drama. Despite a very positive response from the schools, most of the participants were overworked teachers who could only attend out of personal interest and could not apply what they had learned in their classrooms.

Eventually PWT changed tactics. Working with drama teachers around Taiwan, it introduced a Campus Youth Theater and a Children's Creativity Workshop. In nine years, over a million young people have been able to perform their own stories in their own words, many formerly indifferent youngsters being introduced to the theatrical world, and loving it.

Jen says, "We also started up children's theater classes, whose purpose was not to cultivate diminutive stars of the stage, but to lead the children in various kinds of play that involve bodily motions and the exploration of dimensions of theatrical space. We hoped that children could thereby learn to express their inborn creativity." However, most parents, being results-oriented and hoping to see their children in full performances of plays, failed to fully support these well-intentioned activities, and they were halted. Even so, the Paper Windmill Theatre is in no rush, believing that as long as parental attitudes continue to be transformed, children's theater classes will eventually become a reality.

Jen Chien-cheng, one of the founders of the Paper Windmill Theatre, works daily with group members to imagine ways to bring joy to the children they encounter. Unfortunately, this has left little time for his own two children, a situation that he is deeply aware of but can do little to change.

Theater's healing power

To spread the seeds of theater, says Jen, "We've arranged annual performances on the outlying islands and in other remote locales. Even though our meager salaries cannot really support this work, we all undertake these trips gladly. This is because in so many of these places the children have long looked forward to our coming."

After the September 21, 1999 earthquake, PWT members took their own vacation time to visit the hardest-hit area, Puli in Nantou County, which led to three years of theatrical therapy, teaching local mothers to use storytelling to calm their children's spirits.

"When we first started," says Jen, "The mothers would bite their lips and laugh awkwardly at our performances. When it was their turn to step onto the stage, some would become so nervous that they would stutter, while others would not know what to do with their hands and feet or remain silent." Patient instruction from theater coaches allowed these originally wary and introverted mothers to tell stirring stories full of expression and feeling. They were also eventually able to express their own inner feelings and begin to tell their own stories. Through their tears and their laughter, the mothers related the hurt and terror experienced during the disaster, slowly giving expression to their inward emotions.

PWT has traveled through countless schools, villages and towns in Taiwan. In recent years, its itineraries have also include trips abroad, including Paris, New York, Hong Kong, Macao, and locales in mainland China. PWT, originally founded to create theater for Taiwanese children, now pledges to bring that theater to all the children of the world.

The Paper Windmill Theatre uses dazzling New Year's lanterns to render the folk tale Erlang and Xiao Tianfu Battle Sun Wukong, transforming a clamorous battle scene into a lively and beautiful display of light and dance.

Even thought Wu Song Fights the Tiger is a comedy, the Paper Windmill Theatre has fused current social concerns into their performance, hoping that children will learn to communicate more and forgive more, rather than perpetuating misunderstandings and carrying grudges.