Founded two decades ago, Legend Lin Dance Theatre has only three works to its name—Mirrors of Life, Anthem to the Fading Flowers, and Song of Pensive Beholding. But though few, these pieces have carved out new territory in the world of dance, their themes of life and death, man and spirit, and man’s place in the world reaching across borders to rapturous receptions.
In May 2015, the theater completed a run at the Shizuoka Performing Arts Center in Shizuoka, Japan. Yoshiji Yokoyama, who heads the center’s international program and has witnessed hundreds of performances, described Legend Lin Dance Theatre’s show as the first dance performance to have ever brought him to tears. They have had similar effects elsewhere, warming the hearts of stereotypically cool audiences in Russia and personally winning over a cameraman hired to accompany the troupe in Mexico, who found his usual frenetic pace calming along with the tranquility of the show.
Lose yourself to dance
“When I dance, I feel everyone around me relax,” says Lin. Sitting in front of a tea set in a white linen blouse and round glasses, she emanates a spirit that calms everyone around. That spirit, though, seems in stark contrast to the 66-year-old Lin’s descriptions of her younger, wilder self.
For as long as she can remember, dance and drawing have been Lin’s favorite things. When she was 16, she happened into possession of a ticket to a performance by American modern dance artist Paul Taylor, and fell immediately and lastingly in love with the art form. “Others said they loved the dancing, but I loved the theatricality,” she says. While Taylor’s motions seemed simple, the theatrical atmosphere drew Lin into another world, bringing peace to her rebellious teenage heart.
After studying dance at the College of Chinese Culture (now Chinese Culture University), she went on to teach dance at Chang’an Junior High School, where her passion for dance really began to shine. While there, Lin created the group pieces Crimson Blood, Yellow Flowers and Wind and Waves, as well as the solo pieces Who Am I? and Don’t Forget Your Umbrella, their distinctive style and form attracting much attention.
After completing Who Am I? in 1982, the 28-year-old Lin took a break from dance to raise her newborn child. Ten years later, she made her return to the stage with the folk-ritual-influenced Heavenly Questions, a piece that would prove formative to the unique aesthetic of Legend Lin Dance Theatre.
Lin explains that this style of dance wasn’t the result of a simple flash of inspiration, but rather the result of how time had given her a new perspective on life, and of being “just the right age.” “One’s thirties are a milestone in life, when you start reexamining your past and questioning your future.” And at that time, Lin’s biggest question was “What should authentically Taiwanese dance be?”
Western styles like ballet and modern dance, says Lin, are mainstream for students of dance in Taiwan, but while the motions and techniques can be transplanted, moving such forms to Taiwan cuts them off from their heritage. “If you don’t know where a movement comes from, it loses its life, loses its roots.”
In her search for an answer, she began pruning the florid style of her past, keeping only the most beautiful flowers to create something new. Now Lin patiently and personally tends to every piece of music, costuming, and everything else, patiently waiting for her cuttings to bloom.
During her ten-year break Lin may have left her troupe, but she hadn’t completely left dance. In that time, she worked with Lan Ling Theater Workshop, working on the choreography for Yu Kan-ping’s Papa, Can You Hear Me Sing? and Ko I-chen’s The Boy with the Longest Sword. While working with Yu on the Bunun part of his Taiwanese Aboriginal Dance and Music series, Lin was exposed to the various rituals and ceremonies of several Aboriginal villages, and this inspired her to start thinking about the rituals and ceremonies unique to the Han Chinese people.
Keelung, where Lin was born and raised, holds annual celebrations of Ghost Festival, including “the releasing of the water lanterns,” but Lin had never really paid it any heed. It was only after getting some distance from it that she finally realized that all the rituals and ceremonies she had been looking for were right in front of her.
From her earlier solo pieces to Legend Lin Dance Theatre’s tribute trilogy to Heaven, Earth, and Man, all of Lin’s works have been inspired by her observations of her own life.
Her first piece, Idiot, which she created during her student days, was inspired by the story of a girl in her neighborhood. When she was 16 or 17, Lin would often visit the girl’s home, and the girl always had a big dumb smile on her face. One day, the girl just vanished, and Lin eventually heard talk that her family had locked her away at home. The idea of having her freedom stripped away deeply shocked Lin. “It was then that I realized that there’s a cruelly pragmatic side to people that we’ve just become accustomed to.” That observation of humanity is what informed Idiot.
2000’s Anthem to the Fading Flowers was born from an occasion when Lin wanted to see the flowers of the Japanese camellias her husband, Chen Nien-chou, was growing. Having been struck by the desire late in the day, she decided to wait until the next day, but overnight the petals wilted and fell off. The sudden death of the petals and her regret at having missed them called to mind the various troubles that had caused her to withdraw from the world of dance. While she didn’t immediately begin translating that feeling into creativity, the experience stayed with her, ultimately becoming the source of Anthem.
Life is a river
Legend Lin Dance Theater’s 1995 Mirrors of Life tells the tale of a woman who, having passed on, lingers between the mortal realm and the afterlife until she is finally able to let go of her worries. The dance, imbued with the solemnity and majesty of Taoist ritual, also speaks to Lin’s approach to creation, and to life itself.
The piece was inspired by a Taoist ritual held only once every ten years. Given the ritual’s rarity, when the time comes around the entire community comes together, giving it their all to ensure everything goes well. Everyone from the dancers, through the crew, to Lin herself similarly gave their all to Mirrors, and by the end they were all exhausted. Lin had thought that would be her final work, but five years later she returned with Anthem to the Fading Flowers, a piece about the cyclical, impermanent nature of life. While Mirrors was inspired by a Taoist festival focused on honoring the dead, Anthem is a four-part interpretation of the changing of the seasons and the circle of life.
Whether it’s Mirrors, Anthem, or 2009’s spectacular Song of Pensive Beholding, Lin’s works all share a philosophy—that life is a river.
In 2006, before the second round of public performances of Mirrors, Lin made a special request of her young dancers—that they accompany the procession of the goddess Mazu in Baishatun, Miaoli County, for eight days. Every stage of the goddess’s procession was decided by casting lots—when they approached an intersection in the road, the procession would stop, swaying as the decision was made, at which point they would immediately, unhesitatingly head in the appropriate direction. This seemed a close match with Lin’s thoughts on life: “There’s no set route, and once you pick a direction, you can’t know where you’ll end up—a lot like life, isn’t it?”
In the hurried modern world, Legend Lin Dance Theatre’s taking 20 years to produce three pieces is rare and precious. This kind of slow, stripped-down process is the essence of the theater’s productions, and of Lin’s view of the world. “People’s connection to the land is rapidly disappearing, and we can only recalibrate ourselves by slowing down and learning to listen.”
When 2009’s Song of Pensive Beholding closed out the trilogy, many critics felt that Lin had created her magnum opus. Lin herself even considers the costume design and choreography the best of all her works, and something that will be hard to top any time soon. But she has already thought her work was done before, after Mirrors and Anthem, only to later be struck by inspiration once more. “Creativity is about more than words—it’s a matter of the alignment of time, space, and emotion.”
This September, Anthem to the Fading Flowers is set to return to the stage, with performances at the National Theater, giving Taiwanese audiences another chance to experience the power of the changing seasons as interpreted by an artist who has been called one of the world’s eight great masters of modern dance choreography.
In 20 years, Legend Lin Dance Theatre has produced three pieces—Mirrors of Life, Anthem to the Fading Flowers, and Song of Pensive Beholding, all showcasing a unique aesthetic of space and pace. The photo shows a scene from Song of Pensive Beholding.
Lin Lee-chen, founder of Legend Lin Dance Theatre, approaches her work with the same selfless dedication one would associate with the religious rituals that have inspired her works.
Lin Lee-chen, founder of Legend Lin Dance Theatre, approaches her work with the same selfless dedication one would associate with the religious rituals that have inspired her works.
Finely embroidered clothing, a cat that crosses her path... Lin Lee-chen finds a wealth of creative inspiration in the finer details of everyday life.
Finely embroidered clothing, a cat that crosses her path... Lin Lee-chen finds a wealth of creative inspiration in the finer details of everyday life.
An outdoor performance of Song of Pensive Beholding on Yangmingshan.
Song of Pensive Beholding follows the Eagle Tribe in their investigation of the great questions of life. (below, left) An outdoor performance of Song of Pensive Beholding on Yangmingshan.
Anthem to the Fading Flowers is a fourpart cycle about the changing of the seasons and the vicissitudes of life. (photo by Jimmy Lin)
