In the past, the world of Taiwanese pop music has had no shortage of performers from outside Taiwan. Many Chinese- language singers from such places as Hong Kong, Japan, Korea, Singapore and Malaysia have chosen to develop their singing careers on the island. From the beginning of the 1990s, besides singers arriving from East Asian countries nearby Taiwan, a fresh crop of pop singers has been arriving from faraway America to pursue show biz careers. Why have they come to sing in Taiwan? And why has it been so easy for them to make it big in the Taiwanese market? Are they amateurs singing for a lark, or long-term, professional entertainers?
Shortly past five in the morning, the loudspeakers that have already been set up in front of the Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall in downtown Taipei begin to blast out a powerful bass line with a fast beat. By the time one's ears have finally gotten used to the high-decibel volume, the opening strains of the song are over. What follows are vocals sung in a mix of Chinese and English. The voice, rapping in Mandarin with an accent that is ever so slightly off, alternately becomes submerged in and floats to the top of the heavy accompaniment.
Perhaps because of the summoning music, or perhaps because the dawn has begun to break and visibility has increased, behind every pillar of the National Music Hall and beside the loudspeakers at the side of the performance stage, adolescent girls appear in little gaggles of three to five. In their hands they hold notebooks and cameras, cleverly lingering at the edge of the square in wait.
What thing, or what people, have this kind of magnetic attraction, to make these teenage girls rise at the crack of dawn and stand around at the Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial Hall on a Sunday morning?
At 5:55 am, five minutes before the race begins, a white Honda Civic pulls up in front of the front gate. A group of people swiftly get out and rush toward the starting line. Right then, from either side, the pack of teenage girls that have already been waiting for a long time impulsively rushes forward, but half way there, workers shout at them, "Back up, back up! They're about to start running, you'll be knocked over." As the girls reluctantly break up and return to either side, two big boys wearing white T-shirts and long blue jeans, come up to the starting line ready to run. "It's them." "Right, but don't you think Stan and Jeff have gotten thinner?" The conversation behind their backs reveals a feeling of tender fondness. It turns out the purpose of this unending weekend daybreak vigil has been to greet the special guests of the Swatch Olympic Road Run-the LA Boyz, members of the "older" generation who initiated the recent trend of ethnic-Chinese Americans coming to Taiwan to start up singing careers.
The Yanks are coming!
The two brothers and one cousin who make up the LA Boyz had lived in the United States since childhood. Beginning in 1992, they started to come to Taiwan during summer vacations to develop performing careers. They imported American-style dance music which had yet to become popular in Taiwan, such as rap, hip hop, and new jack swing, and in the same year they founded their fan club "Dance Forest Alliance" through which they interact with fellow aficionados of hot music and hot dance. Very quickly, each of the LA Boyz' singles, like their first hit "Jump" and last year's "Young Guns," leaped to the top of the charts. Their promoter Leona Liao notes that their most popular album sold more than 400,000 copies.
Following in the footsteps of the LA Boyz, more and more young Asian Americans have showed up in Taiwan, in groups of two or three, or as solo performers-acts like the Babes, Michael Tong, CoCo, Altom Chow, and the latest-A&C (the two brothers Alec and Chris Lung). Is this a coincidental trend of the market, or a greenhouse effect put into motion by the LA Boyz, that has made so many young overseas Chinese eager to come to Taiwan and fulfill their dreams of stardom?
From the history of A&C's rise in Taiwan's entertainment circles, perhaps we can discover some answers. A&C's sponsor Dala Music Company already had in its stable such singers as David Huang and Michelle Chen, who were famous for their genuine talent instead of their good looks, and the company planned to cultivate some performers of the pin-up variety as well. Promotion department supervisor Lulu Chen states that they went through a number of different channels in Taiwan, such as singing competitions at various schools to search out talent, but no one seemed to stand out above the crowd. Therefore, they decided to hold several competitions in America, scoping out new stars from abroad.
Dala Music held 15 talent competitions on and off in several big cities in America, such as Los Angeles and San Francisco. Their planning department touted those competitions as parties, encouraging interested young people to come have fun, and at the same time show off their talent. At the time, the Lung brothers, who have a background in classical music, only accompanied their friends to join in the ruckus but, with their bright appearances and their height, ended up the focus of attention.
According to Lulu Chen, on average, each of the 15 competitions Dala held in the USA attracted the participation of more than 100 young people. Participants were mostly overseas Chinese from high schools and universities. There were even non-Chinese participants. It seems that there are quite a lot of overseas Chinese who embraced the dream of stardom.
Limited access to the heavens
It's not without reason that Chinese Americans would want to come to Taiwan to pursue a career under the spotlight. Everyone can fantasize about becoming a big star, but second- or third-generation overseas Chinese have a harder time realizing such dreams. For one thing, some ethnic Chinese, being influenced by the traditional concepts of their elders, tend to pursue their professions in science, engineering or medicine. The humanities, social sciences and the arts are for the most part left unpursued. According to a 1995 opinion poll at the University of California at Berkeley, most ethnic Chinese students chose science and engineering or the natural sciences because of high pay and greater employment opportunities. In addition, many students' parents are already established in related fields, and with plenty of connections, they naturally can be of help in getting internships or real jobs.
On the other hand, ethnic Chinese students seldom enter professions related to the humanities or the arts, also owing to employment considerations. The book Chinese People's Overseas Complex, mentions that "currently an Asian-American literature is gradually surfacing, but it places an emphasis on autobiography and the remolding of Chinatown culture. This demonstrates a 'special overseas-Chinese literary sentiment.'" For example, in such classes at Berkeley as composition, English literature and history, professors will call students' attention to the works of Chinese-American authors like Amy Tan and Maxine Hong Kingston. But as soon as they have read a number of these stories about the struggles and conflicts between two cultures, second- generation Asian Americans, whether they be of Chinese, Japanese or Korean descent, are less powerfully attracted to them, and these works gradually come to form an ossified genre that has worked its way into a cul-de-sac. The level of readership is naturally limited.
Second and third generation overseas Chinese find it difficult to seek eminence in the fine arts. The opportunities for renown in the commercial arts are even scarcer. Firstly, the number of Chinese Americans involved in the commercial arts is small. Secondly, even if they enter into this line of work, the opportunities to climb to the top are remote. For a long time, the roles given to ethnic Chinese in America's television and movie industries were either refugees, or gangsters fighting and making trouble in the streets. Actresses were limited to playing the role of the mysterious, submissive Oriental maiden. In recent years, because of the excellence which ethnic Chinese have exhibited in science and the information industry, a new stereotype of the ethnic Chinese has appeared in the media. In television dramas Chinese actors can sometimes be seen playing rather erudite roles, such as doctors and computer experts. These roles appear to be "positive," but they have imperceptibly restrained ethnic Chinese actors from having the chance to compete for other kinds of roles.
Transmuting rebellion?
Over the last several years, the Hong Kong action-film director John Woo could be described as the only Chinese director who has won acclaim from Hollywood. And those ethnic Chinese actors and actresses who have genuinely been able to make it in America's mainstream film world are few and far between. Min-na Wen, who has appeared on the television programs The Single Guy and E.R., counts as one of the very few second-generation ethnic Chinese who has been successful in American entertainment.
Since breaking into America's performing arts circles is extremely difficult, second- and third-generation Chinese Americans who have interest and abilities in this area are naturally prone to consider other markets that are more likely to accept them. And because many families come from Taiwan, and during holidays take their children back to Taiwan to visit relatives, they have an intimate feeling toward Taiwan of "blood is thicker than water." At the same time, Taiwan's willingness to accept foreign culture is particularly high. The overnight popularity of the LA Boyz came about due to these various favorable factors.
Radio host Kyle Cheng and Virginia Liu, former agent for the LA Boyz, both agree that the rise in popularity of the LA Boyz is certainly related with the mood of the times. Kyle Cheng remarks that in the United States, rap and break-dancing had already been popular for a very long time. If virtually anything introduced to Taiwan from abroad could become popular, then this kind of music should have been commonplace on the island long before. To put it another way, there is a close connection between the LA Boyz' popularity and the timing of their record release.
Furthermore, when the LA Boyz first appeared, Taiwan's democratic election process was just starting out. In order to get votes, some politicians waved the banner of the Taiwanese language and studied how to speak it. The native Taiwanese cultural movement was also just hitting its peak at that time. The rap lyrics of the LA Boyz, mixing Mandarin, English and Taiwanese, "fit in well with the spirit of the times. They got lucky just as the whole society was emphasizing its local character," says Virginia Liu.
A subculture within the mainstream
Kyle Cheng, the radio host, points out that the rap and hip hop dance music which the LA Boyz introduced to Taiwan had its origins within America's street youth subculture. At the time, those youths who appeared to adults as "rebellious" and "frivolous and disrespectful," actually shared a consensus in terms of values and aspirations. These comrades who felt they were not understood used dance steps and rap lyrics which they created themselves to express their own inner frustrations. The beat of their dance music is steady and strong, yielding a well-defined space in which to freely employ the fast and varied rap lyrics. In recent years, rap lyrics have gone from expressing individual emotional frustrations to protesting the injustices of society. But the fundamental feeling of "I have something to say" has not changed.
What is interesting is that although the style of music which the LA Boyz introduced was by nature "rebellious," when this kind of music entered into the world of Taiwanese pop music, it was not viewed as "some kind of plague." On the contrary, not only did the youth quickly identify with the American-style dance music which they introduced, even a good many parents, when they saw the LA Boyz' performance and heard their humorous lyrics sung in Taiwanese, felt a fondness for them as if they were their own children. In addition, much of the critical review from the media at the time portrayed them as "being able to both study and sing." When their own sons and daughters became infatuated with them, parents did not object, holding the viewpoint that "the LA Boyz are good examples for young people."
The special draw of mixed culture
As far as the issue of selling themselves by virtue of their American style, many overseas Chinese performers believe that they are not purely imitative or simply importing American culture, but that after having absorbed the mainstream culture of the environment in which they grew up, they have distilled their own unique qualities. For example, CoCo (Li Wen), who grew up in Los Angeles and came to Taiwan a short two years ago, has chosen the route of singing Western songs. She has even imitated the American singer Mariah Carey on television. But as CoCo sees it, "My special appeal comes from drawing from many different American vocal and musical styles."
Alec and Chris Lung of A&C, who made their first appearance in February of this year, personally determined their musical style when they were recording their first album. The reason that they use many different styles of American and European dance music is because this is the kind of music that they actually listen to. They were extremely familiar with this flavor of dance music and consequently were more interested and confident in using it in their CD. It was not as if Taiwan didn't have this kind of music and they were trying to import something entirely fresh.
When the job is finished, what next?
Nevertheless, after the phase of "going to Taiwan for a summer job" is over, these overseas Chinese who have come back to the motherland in pursuit of their dreams must face the problem of how to develop long-term performing careers in Taiwan.
Many young overseas students who have left Taiwan may have some impressions of this place, but the rapid changes that have recently transpired in Taiwan's lifestyle, society and ways of thinking are not easily grasped by visiting students who only retain a vague impression of Taiwan, or by "ABC's" (American Born Chinese) who speak Mandarin or Taiwanese at home but whose greatest link with Taiwanese culture is a yellow complexion. Even if they return to Taiwan every year to visit relatives during school breaks, they are ultimately only acquainted with Taiwan at a superficial level. And if they really become singing stars, the frantically busy lifestyle of rushing to performances and shows day and night cannot afford them the time to deeply comprehend the pulse of society on which popular music relies for its existence, or the trends in the pop music market.
Virginia Liu suggests that performers who come to Taiwan to get into show biz must try harder to understand the market trends of the land where they perform; otherwise, they will easily become a part of the culture as fleeting as a soda-pop bubble. She also notes that many performers from overseas become popular very quickly and do not have the experience of working hard and making a living from their songs. Therefore, they feel that singing is easy in Taiwan, and they do not properly cherish their success. Some performers even take the attitude that "a monk from abroad can recite the sutras," and view success as a matter of course. Little do they know that in the Taiwan market which so adores its pop idols, if they do not strive to stay on top, entertainers who have become hot fast can disappear just as quickly.
CoCo is one of the few young overseas Chinese singers to have deeply immersed herself in the Taiwanese market and is even willing to settle down here. According to her promoter Cynthia Yu, up to this point, CoCo has been working at her performing career in Taiwan for two years without a break. During this period of time, CoCo, who was born in Hong Kong and grew up in the United States, has gotten to know Taiwan. She says, "When I first came to Taiwan, I was very nervous. I spent the greatest possible amount of energy doing a good job as an entertainer. Later on, I came to love the feeling of Taiwan, and now I hope to settle down here." During her two years in Taiwan, CoCo has put out eleven albums, both solo and in collaboration with others, and she has participated in many special events, including those for soldiers. For this reason, even though she had never come to Taiwan before she began building her singing career, more than a few people think she is a local performer.
A "Uniqueness first" market orientation
In reality, as long as an entertainer sings well and has style, the Taiwan market seems not to care whether he or she "sets down roots in Taiwan." The most obvious example are the "four kings" of Hong Kong, who have been accepted by Taiwan's music lovers without the slightest reservation. As Virginia Liu puts it, professionalism is the most important thing.
A&C, who have just now started their singing careers, seem to have taken hold of some of Virginia Liu's sincere advice. In the promotional photos for their first album, these two brothers, who stumbled into the pop music business, appeared with a "new new youth" image full of "contradiction." They took on roles both ancient and modern, Chinese and Western. At one moment they played the roles of shepherd boys, wearing traditional Chinese clothing and Buddhist rosaries. At the next moment they wore the trendiest of plastic apparel. Then they posed holding the classical instruments that are their specialties-the violin and the cello. Although they have made their appearance in the visage of pin-up singing stars, the two brothers realize they cannot sing top-40 songs for their entire lives, and that the most important element for success is true ability. They have therefore already begun planning how to make a transition in the future.
The dreams of two generations
Many of the first-generation Chinese immigrants in America who are now fifty or sixty years old originally traveled in the 1970s from Taiwan and Hong Kong to the USA as students. At the time, besides endeavoring to acquire the scientific prowess available in America, this group of people who went to the "new world" in search of their dreams probably also wanted to give a better living environment to themselves, their family and their children. The American dream which they had thirty years ago has more or less been achieved. The next generation which has just come of age have their own set of dreams. Among these, the dream of stardom in Taiwan seems extraordinarily dazzling. Yet it is still unclear how many of these stars who have returned to the motherland to fulfill their dreams will be able to shine their lights for a long time.
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(left) Promoted by a Taiwanese music company, the American-Chinese singing group the Babes have come out with a new single, calling for "girls to chase guys." Is this what the teenage girls of Taiwan want to do? When young ethnic Chinese born and raised overseas return to Taiwan pursuing careers, which culture do they identify with? And what kind of fashion are they creating? (Courtesy of Golden Point Records and Tapes International Co., Ltd.)
(right) The "older" generation who stirred up the fad of Chinese Americans coming to Taiwan to make it in show biz-the LA Boyz.
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The brother team of A&C are young stars with a "new new youth" image, discovered during the course of 15 talent competitions held in the USA.
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These young music fans hold promotional photos of their idols, looking quite a lot like stars themselves.
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The banner behind CoCo reads, "Love Me a Little Longer." Is that what overseas Chinese entertainers hope Taiwan fans will do for them?
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At a meeting of CoCo's fan club, the poster hand-made by her fans seems to temporarily answer her question.
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A packed-out fan club meeting, a passionate audience-does Taiwan's music market hold a special affection for entertainers who come from far away?
p.59
Feverish media and entertainers eager for fame are mutually dependent. What about the tastes of the audience?
The brother team of A&C are young stars with a "new new youth" image, discovered during the course of 15 talent competitions held in the USA.
These young music fans hold promotional photos of their idols, looking quite a lot like stars themselves.
The banner behind CoCo reads, "Love Me a Little Longer." Is that what overseas Chinese entertainers hope Taiwan fans will do for them?
At a meeting of CoCo's fan club, the poster hand-made by her fans seems to temporarily answer her question.
A packed-out fan club meeting, a passionate audience--does Taiwan's music market hold a special affection for entertainers who come from far away?
Feverish media and entertainers eager for fame are mutually dependent. What about the tastes of the audience?