In 2003, Huang Hui-hung's life reached a turning point. His Taiwanese sym-phony "In Praise of Taiwan" was heard by the chair of the Overseas Chinese Affairs Commission Chang Fu-mei. Chang made it the opening theme of the commission's National Day celebration, having it performed by the 240-member Ilan Philharmonic, lending it immense emotional power.

The coming performance by Hua Gang Arts School of Huang Hui-hung's A Youth by the Sea will fulfill his dream of staging a large-scale musical in Taiwanese.

Simpler times

Most people aren't familiar with the name Huang Hui-hung, but those who follow Taiwanese music consider him a cultured musician. Some call him a rock and roll poet, while many others call him the Taiwanese Elvis. (In 1997, while studying in Hawaii, he won the Hawaiian Elvis Song Tournament.)

Since starting down this path in 1994, Huang has penned over 100 songs and released several CDs independently. In 1996 he was a Golden Melody Award nominee alongside the great Luo Ta-you. In 2000 he recorded "In Praise of Taiwan" with funding from the Tsai Jui-yueh Dance Art Academy. In 2001, his CDs became President Chen Shui-bian's gift of choice for visiting heads of state. In 2003, in cooperation with over 200 teachers and students of Hua Gang Arts School, he put on a recital of extraordinary Taiwanese music. And on it goes....

In a red shirt, bright suit, and sunglasses, his hair pomaded, Huang performs classic Elvis tracks with his trademark passion and tender voice. Now even the university music professor he once butted heads with has become a close ally.

Seeing him put on such an exaggerated show, you would never pick him as a civil servant. A graduate of Chung Hsing University's English department and Chinese Culture University's Graduate Institute of Sino-American Relations, Huang joined the advertising industry after finishing his studies. When he applied for two months' parental leave and was turned down, he left his job and went into civil service, starting work with the Ministry of Education's Bureau of International Cultural and Educational Relations, where he handled performance applications for international acts. Over 20 years he saw over 2000 performances and shows. A movie lover, he would also watch at least three movies a week. Even after all these years, he still finds himself moved to tears by cinema.

Huang grew up next door to a movie theater, and during his junior high years he developed a love for music and the guitar. Then, as an adult, he secured a job as a performing arts manager. "It's fate. The heavens are smiling on me. There might not be anything after this life, so how could I pass up the opportunity to do this?" says Huang.

Born in the township of Peikang in Yunlin County, Huang Hui-hung has always had a strong sense of fun, and whether it was the traditional local arts like puppetry and Taiwanese Opera, or more alternative ones like kabuki and exotic dancing, Huang would be in the audience.

In senior high Huang was entranced by music as he entered his rebellious teenage years. He shaved his head, wore gaudy shirts, chewed betel nut, and walked around in wooden sandals. At school he put on his own concerts, and when he was bored at home he'd pretend the taps around the house were microphones, singing, dancing, and putting on a show. Growing up with this sense of freedom and vibrancy made Huang a passionate sort, afraid of nothing. He may be over 50 now, but he's still young at heart, and has maintained the same indomitable attitude to work, money, and art, regardless of the many problems he's faced.

In 2003 Huang Hui-hung collaborated with Hua Gang Arts School to stage a combined string orchestra and choral performance of his symphony "In Praise of Taiwan."

Never say die

Not long after he started putting on shows, Huang decided to borrow money to invest in a recording studio, eventually laying down NT$10 million for four flats, and another NT$50-60,000 for music equipment. This turned out to be the financial last straw, and the bank ended up repossessing his flats. Every month a third of his paycheck went directly to pay off his debt.

After almost ten years of this, he had to sell off his wife's jewelry, including gold jewelry celebrating their children's births. On occasions he couldn't even pay his child's tuition fees, having to rely on money from family and friends.

Even worse, because he refused to betray his principles at work, in 1996 he ended up being threatened and stalked by gangsters. He was also frequently treated unfairly at work. With his clear sense of justice and strong personality, Huang, this insignificant civil servant, stood up to the underworld, eventually seeing justice done after an eight-year-long court battle.

His path as an artist seemed like a road to nowhere. But confident he could usher in a new wave of popular Taiwanese-language culture, he shuttled his recordings to record label after record label. But they were unwilling to offer a no-name "old man" a contract, although many were happy to buy his tunes.

Watching others get promoted and rich before him while he continued to pour money into his music, even his wife, long a vocal supporter, started to berate him for "slacking off," at one point even considering divorce.

Under huge financial pressure, Huang, who had always been unwilling to release control of his pieces, forced himself to part with over 30 songs over three or four years, giving up all the rights to them for almost NT$1 million. Hit by setback after setback, it looked as if he would have to give up his dream.

But one day, when he was taking his daughter, still in elementary school, to a show, when they stepped out of the taxi she smiled and said, "That driver's really lucky! He got to drive Taiwanese Elvis!" Her words gave Huang the biggest boost to his confidence yet, giving him the courage to continue.

"I've always believed that life means nothing without a dream," says Huang, "and in the old saying, 'no pain, no gain.'" He believes that every one of those problems has made his life more meaningful, and that none of the time facing them was wasted. Thinking back on those dark days, where at the crack of dawn he would sit, writing music from deep in his heart, Huang realizes the cleansing power of music helped him maintain his innocence.

"I realized I have a part to play in how the future of Taiwanese music turns out, and this calling would sing out in my soul," says Huang. Sometimes his wife would call him a martyr, but the way he saw it, Jesus was a martyr too, and with an "If not me, then who?" attitude he sucked it up and shouldered his cross as a savior of Taiwanese music.

With a voice and outfit like Elvis, Huang Hui-hung, who works at the Ministry of Education, has thrown all his money without reserve into promoting a new era for the Taiwanese folksong.

The King is here

Last fall, Huang set out on a tour of over 20 concerts in Kaohsiung and Taipei, hoping to hone his stage presence and skills while building up a new legion of fans. Having passed the half century, he believes his experiences have shaped his voice and lyrics into something truly evocative.

Having stuck at it for 24 years, Huang will finally retire from the civil service in 2006. His two sons are grown up, and his debts are mostly paid off; now he can fully immerse himself in the world of music with no distractions.

"Some say you should plan for the future; I say make it happen now. I don't want to look back when I'm on my deathbed and regret not chasing my dream." Now he is working with Shu Jen Girls' High School on Taiwan's first Taiwanese-language musical, A Youth by the Sea. With a hoarse yet bright laugh, Huang continues down the path toward his dreams.

Hung has self-produced many CDs.