The Back and Front Stages of Transforming Histories

When we, on Saturday, October 5, 2024, 4:03pm, rush around the massive white building with the octagonal blue roof, we first see, situated under a temporary tent about 100 meters in front of the double set of 89 stairs that lead up to the 44 years old, 6.3 meters high, bronze statue of Chiang Kai-chek, the back stage of the puppet show. Three black clothed, feet stomping puppeteers squeeze themselves around the small openings in the upper part of the puppet stage through which their characters become visible to the front audience members. Right behind them is folding table with piles of puppets, to the left stands a big black loudspeaker on a tripod, behind that a woman with a laptop and a black box with 28 big, red buttons, which she pushes to trigger music clips and sound effects, behind that another table with stacks of sound and light mixing equipment. The sound effects, that punctuate whatever stabbing, flying, running, crashing, dreaming, crying or tumbling action is going on in front of the stage are loud, the live narration mostly performed by Mister Li from the  真雲林閣掌中劇團 Zhen Yun Lin Ge Glove-Puppet troupe through his clip on mic is loud, the pop songs are loud, the Western movie soundtrack imitations are loud, the melodies are loud, the laughing roars and the crying weeps. The presence of the soundscape, which turns the puppets into much bigger versions of themselves, gives us a flashback to an educational wall label in the Dadaocheng Theater 大稻埕戲苑 that explained: “As they say in show business: Three tenths front stage, seven-tenth back stage.”

We slowly keep walking, happy to see such a big crowd sitting on the ground in front of the stage. Mostly families with small children, mixed in with a few teenage couples and elderly people standing on the sides, some holding up their smart phones horizontally, filming the show. We keep walking and stop at the side point, where our perspective condenses the puppet stage into a thin, vertical line. To the left from this line sit the people who laugh or clap their hands, to the right of the line stands the table with the piles of puppets, what pulls them together protrudes out of this thin line in form of fast moving cloth covered hands to the left and stomping, fast moving feet to the right. Back, front, everything is out in the open, we think, and have another flashback to the many instances where we marveled at the fact, that many restaurants and eateries in Taiwan cook their food in outdoor kitchens on the sidewalk. As a hungry person you find yourself standing on the sidewalk looking left at what is being washed, poured, chopped, mixed, stirred and cooked by whom and how, and then you look right at the dining room situation, the food’s final presentation in bowls or on plates, the light situation, the AC situation, the other people who sit on the tables, and then you either eat there or you move on.

We keep walking and find a spot in the last row of audience members. Having the grand overview, and not understanding the language of the performed story, we use the time to contemplate the fact, that in traditional, religious temple performances the front of the puppet stage always faces the small statues of deities and spirits housed inside the temple, while this setup bluntly turns its back towards worshipping authoritarianism.

Just a few weeks earlier, in July of 2024, Taiwan’s Ministry of Culture moved the “changing of the guard ceremony” from inside the memorial hall to the outdoors, therewith publicly implementing the current government’s agenda that “eliminating worshipping a cult of personality and eliminating worshipping authoritarianism is the current goal for promoting transitional justice.

When it becomes available, we hunch over our backs and bend our knees and apologetically hurry towards the empty spot in the second row, right in front of the puppet stage. This not only brings us close to the puppet action, but also makes us realize that from this perspective, the Ministry of Culture’s efforts to stop the promotion of the cult of personality around Chiang Kai-Chek, fully succeeds. The foldable, quickly erected, brightly painted, wooden puppet stage completely covers the view of the massive memorial hall behind it, which took five years to build.

The performance, called “Nine Heads Eighteen Hands” is performed in Taiwanese Hokkien, which relates meaningfully to the site. After the Chinese Civil War, when Chiang Kai-shek and the Kuomintang (KMT) retreated to Taiwan in 1949, the KMT started promoting and enforcing Mandarin Chinese as the official language and issued laws requiring all Taiwanese to speak Mandarin, which led to resentment among the Taiwanese, who had previously spoken Hokkien and other regional dialects. There were outbreaks of rebellion and clashes with military police.

Mr. Li, who lives and works in Yunlin County came about the legend of “Nine Heads and 18 Hands,” when he researched the origins and life of a deity in a temple near his house. Before this deity became a worshipped deity, he was a local man who jumped into rescue action during a terrible flood. In an effort to save themselves, eight children climbed onto his back turning his body into a being with “Nine heads and 18 hands.” All drowned, yet the man’s heroic efforts turned him into a spirit in whose honor the temple was erected.

It’s a tragic, continuously fourth wall breaking, funny, slapstick, melodramatic, sad, humbling story performed outdoors in a highly charged historical setting accompanied by a dramatic sunset in the sky, a pleasant wind flow and lots of local and international tourists moving around. The moment the show is finished, a pair of grey clothed honorary military guards marches by, followed by a large crowd of people. They all assemble around a tall pole, some with their hands on their hearts, as the military guards ceremoniously lower the flag of Taiwan for the day, while the puppet troupe packs its belongings into a small grey van and leaves Liberty Square while the sun sets behind The National Concert Hall.

Thanks to 真雲林閣掌中劇團, especially Li Jing Ye and his assistant Jaimie who translated our brief post-show conversation. The poster was painted and designed by the puppeteer to the right.
Thanks also to: Fulbright Taiwan – Foundation for Scholarly Exchange