In the News

Young disciples of Taiwan dancer toil for perfection

The silent scream in “Way Out” is symbolic of the younger generation’s stifled ambitions and urge to be seen. (Photo: Kwangyin Liu)

• Publication Date：08/11/2012
• Source： Taiwan Today

Standing in a spacious dance studio lined with floor-to-ceiling mirrors, Sheu Fang-yi looks like an eager beginner mentally preparing to push her body to the limits in pursuit of artistic perfection. A few moments later, though, her face grows solemn as she steps back and begins tapping her foot, intently eyeing the rehearsing young dancers lost in a blur of whirling and jumping.

For over two decades, Sheu has been the leading Taiwan dancer of her generation. A former principal dancer for the Martha Graham Dance Company and Cloud Gate Dance Theatre, she received the National Award for Arts in 2007 and was named an Outstanding Female Dancer by Ballettanz magazine one year later.

In October, Sheu—along with internationally acclaimed choreographers Akram Khan and Christopher Wheeldon—as well as Wendy Whelan, principal dancer with the New York City Ballet, will come together in Taipei City to premiere “Timeless.”

Several years in the making, the project is a creative odyssey for Sheu, representing a special opportunity to introduce world-class artists to Taiwan. But it is her work as an educator these days that is playing an equally large role in keeping her performing flame burning brightly.

“These are my kids,” she said, proudly gesturing toward the small group of young dancers. “I ask them to give their best not for me, but for themselves.”

Sheu uses the pedagogy of carrot and stick to bring out the best in her students. (Courtesy of Activator Marketing Company)

It is this mothering approach that drives Sheu to push the young dancers harder, urging them to reach new heights. “I tell them, if you want to be the best, work hard; people can only see those who have struggled their way up.”

The students will soon have an opportunity to showcase what they have learnt when performing “Way Out,” another Sheu piece, with an international cast in October.

“The title of the show has multiple layers of meaning. It could be the young generation looking for a way out in life, or individuals fighting to survive,” she said. “Some have suggested it might be a way out for my own anxiety.”

At a July 7 media preview, the dancers transition from writhing rapidly to sprinting up and down toward one another. Impelled by an impulse to break free from invisible shackles, the female performers pause to straighten and stiffen their limbs, screaming silently, while the males yank their bodies away from one another, twitching frantically. The faces of dancers are a mixture of confusion and pain, but also communicate a desire to be seen and noticed.

Sheu keeps after her charges, harrying and exhorting them to accelerate their movements until they approach a heightened mental and physical state for performance. “I want them to be agitated, as if an army of ants is swarming over their bodies.”

Mostly in their 20s, the novices have been grouped together for weekly rehearsals since February. While many of them have danced for well over a decade, their experience pales in comparison to that of Sheu and the master choreographers they will soon collaborate with.

Asked if they are ready for this challenge, Sheu admits to being unsure at first.

“It took me at least four months to finally decide to put them on stage for this production. It’s true they’re inexperienced, but I knew how grateful I would have been had I been granted an opportunity like this. This is the chance of a lifetime, and they definitely have the potential to make it big.”

Sheu may be taking a leap of faith in backing her proteges, but she is not alone. Young dancers such as Tung Po-lin, 18, are taking a big gamble in abandoning the security of conventional lives for daily sessions of sweating and soreness.

Every weekend in the studio, Sheu’s students spend hours in rehearsal, gearing up for their stage appearance with dance masters.

“I feel lucky to know very early on what I want to do in life, while many of my peers are still spending their days in Internet cafes,” the bright-eyed Yilan native said.

Looking back on the decision to leave his small coastal hometown three years ago and enter a seven-year dance program at Taipei National University of the Arts, Tung said he draws inspiration from Sheu’s story. “If she was brave enough to venture alone to New York City for an opportunity to dance with Martha Graham, I have nothing to be afraid of.”

Even when injuring his ankle following an overly vigorous training session and had to take an entire month off, Tung never gave up, writing Sheu notes vowing to return posthaste. “She admonished me that I must take good care of my body, because it is a dancer’s most valuable asset,” he said. “I’ve learned my lesson the hard way.”

Like Tung, many of his fellow dancers are tertiary performing arts students, and they find Sheu’s training to be nothing like that in their schools.

“At university, everything was laid out in simple terms, so we knew how much we needed to accomplish in order to get by,” said Liu Wei-ting, a graduate of National Taiwan University of Arts. “But here, we are expected to push ourselves to the limit because that is the only way to improve.”

Sheu believes that her project mantra—everything in life eventually finds its way—will enable the young dancers to do all they can to eclipse her success rather than just traveling the same path. Under her guidance, there is every reason to believe that these young disciples may one day become the new torchbearers of dance in Taiwan.