Wind Shadow 风影

Singapore Arts Festival
Esplanade Theatre, 25 May
Cloud Gate Dance Theatre of Taiwan

The strength of the piece lies in the strength of the coordination between the dancers who act as both shadows and human beings, the separation only visible in their difference in outfit. The shadows are decked in completely black outfits which covered even their faces. An extension of the leg cues the shadow’s twists at awkward angles effortlessly. Human beings perform as simulacra of shadows. Shadows slide across the floor while human beings tread. There arrives a blurred area between reality and imitation as shadows take on lives of their own, and sometimes even preside over the human beings they seek to imitate.

Props such as flags become the canvas in which visualizers imposed an image on. Dancers pull imaginary strings of actual kites which drifts with the presence of fans in the wings. The performance was intriguing even with a colour palette of white and black only, and the occasional twinge of blue. The clinical setting made the extremes of black and white more pronounced.

It is interesting how 林怀民develops the dance first, “音乐是后来才加.” He says that the creation of music is part of the adventure. In this case, the dance did not complement the song but it was the other way round. Music was only inserted after the completion of choreography. The dancers were well-coordinated despite the only occasional trickling of water and odd noises like a dentist’s tooth drill (courtesy of his brother) and a baby’s cry.

The piece’s slowness seems to demand reflection which the audience grappled with because of the abstract nature of the message/ storyline. Usually in contemporary dance, one can appreciate the beauty of dance even if one does not identify with the “storyline” which is not the main focus anyway. However, in this case, I would not label the dance beautiful but more profound, simply because I do not know the answer, and that could be the choreographer’s intention. I was dissatisfied with the conclusion which is supposed to signify a black hole as it appeared to be more futuristic than apocalyptic with the green neon lights being shone on the dancers, but that may just be personal preference.

At the post-show dialogue, the artistic director 林怀民 discussed some of his inspirations which include Peter Pan who fights with his own shadow which naturally follows him. Such inspirations stem from his childhood where he used to play with fabrics and bedsheets.

The collaboration between林怀民 and 蔡国强 is fairly interesting. The latter drops ideas in short phrases while the former works with them with his own interpretation. “Black waterfall” saw yards of cloth falling to the ground, at a speed so quick, creating the illusion of flowing black water. He says this collaboration enabled him to think deeper. He likened the creation of something out of a one-liner from蔡 国强to an elementary school composition.

With simplicity, 林怀民 feels that the dancers are more restricted and hence this performance trained their “traditional body disciplines” as well as brought them back to the basics. To the dancers, this restrain was harder, even harder than triple pirouettes and jete. It is no wonder that the dancers did up some of the more complex choreographies (the acrobatic part) and presented them to him but he had to cut down most of them as his intention was not to entertain and he wanted a consistent tone throughout the performance. They had to learn how to express more, more effectively, in fewer movements. Discussing this with Neo Yun (previous ballet friend), she felt that it was not a dance performance at all, and Singapore Arts Council should not market it as such. This made me ponder on the boundary between movement and dance. Especially with contemporary dance, it is hard to pinpoint what exactly dance is, and limit it to certain forms.

On the conclusion, when questioned about whether he believes in such haunting endings, 林怀民said that “I can sell the idea that tomorrow will be better but I don’t believe it. I can pretend though.”

Even in the setting of an arts hub, the struggles of artistes are apparent. Financial limitations prevent 林怀民 from employing live orchestras. He also reveals that the space Cloud Gate Theatre of Taiwan occupied was burnt down in 2008. Fortunately, with the joint effort of the Taiwanese people, they managed to raise funds for a proper space and he is not sure that his theatre would outlive him, because of the fact that there is the presence of a property now with a 50 year land lease from the government. Expanding on one-liners is easy because it seems that he is always working within limitations.