Poagao's Journal

Absolutely Not Your Monkey

Dec 12 2023

A Northern Jaunt, etc.

“Let’s take a drive around the north coast,” Chenbl texted on Sunday morning.

“Ok,” I texted back, still in bed. I’d spent the previous night at the predictably stressful and disappointing Tiger Mountain Ramble, (the ninth one I think? I’ve lost count). Don’t get me wrong, the other Ramblers seem to really enjoy it, as does the crowd in general, but the creepy abandoned temple and relentless expat vibe never fails to put me on edge. I usually arrive late, spend my time there trying to disappear, and leave as soon as I can. Oh, and not get electrocuted on stage.

So I was in the mood to get out of town. I reserved a Toyota sedan from i-rent on my phone, retrieved it from a nearby parking lot, and picked up Chenbl and his parents before driving north. Chenbl’s navigation efforts somehow resulted in us going the opposite direction than we had intended, but this actually later turned out to be a good idea. We drove out of the city and up to the coast, the brilliant blue skies becoming abruptly cloudy after we passed Danshui, and on to the late Lee Teng-hui’s hometown of Sanzhi for a lunch of some of the most delicious noodles I have ever had, at the Yue Lai Ting, a traditional restaurant with photos of various famous people on the walls. The lunch crowd, including the birthday party of an elderly woman who was feeding cake to one of her grandchildren, was just finishing up, so the staff were quite happy to chat with Chenbl’s parents about all sorts of things, including engineering projects and Hakka accents.

We paid our respects at the golden-faced Matsu temple nearby and then explored an open-air clothes-washing canal and veggie garden that featured not only two working water wheels but an enthusiastic older man who was eager to explain the history of the area. By this time I was sensing a theme of the people in Sanzhi being rather talkative, and when I commented on it, Chenbl’s mother joked, “Well, of course they’re chatty; what else are they going to do around here?”

I think it’s nice; I should go back and make a more thorough exploration of Sanzhi. But we had to be getting on, and the sun had come out again in time for us to enjoy the beach a ways up the coast at the Shihmen Arch Bridge. I chatted with some of the Indonesian fishermen on a boat docked at the harbor as elderly black dogs sniffed at us with greying muzzles. Children splashed each other out in the tide pools while tourists took pictures of the green algae on the rocks.

We realized how fortuitous our previous navigation error was as we continued to drive east, the setting sun blasting the drivers coming the opposite direction but lighting the views along the coast in a surreal fashion due to the ocean haze, the amber light illuminating the cliffs and islets in the distance with a glow like something out of a Miyazaki film. The sun had set by the time we reached Keelung, and finding a parking spot in that amazingly mismanaged traffic was a feat we thought nigh impossible until we somehow managed to dip into an underground parking lot without having to line up. “The car ahead was a VIP,” Chenbl’s father surmised. “That’s how we got in. We got lucky.”

It being a weekend, the night market was thronged with crowds. Back-alley sesame dumplings were enough to satisfy Chenbl’s parents, but we also got some tasty sandwiches before getting back on the road and returning to Taipei, Chenbl’s father telling us tales of the construction of the tunnel making highway travel to the port city possible back in the early 70’s. Sinotech, the company where both Chenbl and his father have made their engineering careers, has done (and is still doing) some truly amazing projects that have benefitted Taiwan in many ways.

Thankfully traffic on the way back wasn’t too heavy, as I don’t really enjoy driving at night. I’d reserved the car until 8:30; we got it back just in time. The i-rent system is actually a nifty idea for those of us who don’t really need a car most of the time.

The next day after work I went to the Xinyi Eslite Bookstore, which is set to close for good on Christmas Eve. I had been rather ambivalent about it after the legendary Dunnan Eslite was torn down years ago; I had spent many a late night there all through the 90’s and aughts wandering the creaky wooden stacks to the sound of soothing cello music, looking at photography books, graphic novels, sci-fi, Chinese sword dramas, you name it, so it was a bit distressing to see it demolished. And now, because we’re just getting dumber as a society, the Xinyi 24-hour bookstore is going away as well, to be replaced by yet another vapid mall full of empty shops populated only by fashion items that cost more than most people’s yearly salary. Wandering around perusing the actual paper books, I felt an even greater sense of impending loss; there’s just nothing to compare with an actual, physical bookshop. It’s more than the books themselves; it’s a whole vibe, an atmosphere of people all engaged in the act of wanting to know more, among the dedicated works of people who want others to know more. I can’t help but wonder if anyone will even be able to calculate what we’re losing. Then again, when was the last time I purchased a physical book? Don’t I read books mostly on my aging Kindle Voyage, or, god help me, on my phone? So perhaps I am just as much at fault for this distressing trend as anyone else.

On my way home I found the usually empty Bitan suspension bridge swarming with reporters, police and security personnel. A bearded Western dude with a tricked-out camera glared at me as I passed, as if I wasn’t supposed to be there. “What’s going on?” I asked one of the security dudes, who sported a tactical vest with a badge and an automatic pistol on his hip.

“Nothing, just our routine inspection route,” he lied. I pointed at the gaggle of reporters.

“Why all the press then?”

“It’s Bitan,” he continued with what I wondered was a badly rehearsed prevarication. “There’s always people around taking photos.”

I looked down at his badge and gun. “Uh-huh. Well, good luck with all that,” I said before continuing back to the Water Curtain Cave. I suspected that it might be an executive inspection of the ongoing bridge repair work, and I didn’t want another awkward encounter with the president (though who knows,  perhaps the third time’s the charm?). But it turned out, as my journalist friend Chang Liang-i informed me, that it was actually Vice President/Presidential candidate Lai Ching-te visiting, along with his VP candidate Hsiao Bi-khim.

In other news, we recently wrapped up a semester of instructing a course on street photography at Shih Hsin University, which is known for its journalism program. The final exhibition and event was fun, with Chenbl as the MC and attended by several high-level university officials and other professors. Alas, there really wasn’t enough time to do much more than a glossed-over introduction to the art and practice of street photography this time, but it’s been hinted that we might be able to take a real crack at it at some point in the future. We’ll see.

posted by Poagao at 12:05 pm  
Nov 20 2023

A Good Day

Sunday was a good day. Saturday night the Ramblers played another Formosa Medicine Show 10-year-anniversary gig, this time at the venerable Witch House in Gongguan, the scene of many a late night/early morning jam over the past 20 years or so.  Slim was out with an injury, but we managed to throw down a bop or two despite that, buoyed by the excellent curry dinners they serve there.

So I was tired the next morning, and debated whether I should go to the park for tai-chi practice. The Sunday weather was so brilliantly blue that I felt I couldn’t not go, even though I was late due to the aforementioned gig recovery process.  Some kind of event at the outdoor stage had attracted a lot of people, but I managed to spot our group in the midst of the crowd, going through the sword form, so I took out my retractable sword and joined them. I’ve forgotten so much that I am just following along at this point, though my body does seem to know many of the next moves so there’s something left from all those years of practice. In any case it felt really good to get back into it, and of course it’s nice to be able to chat with the fellas about various things (potential running-mate variations for the upcoming presidential election was the topic of the day) afterward.

Chenbl called to tell me he’d heard that Capricorn Monkeys were predicted to be especially lucky for the next day or two, and that, should I feel like buying a lotto ticket, to be sure to buy one at a shop near a large tree. With that in mind, I set off for Longshan Temple, where I had a delicious lunch sitting outside Tokyo Bike before wandering around the area looking for lotto stores near large trees (it’s as good a reason to wander as any). As usual, the area was full of tourists, skewing towards the usual white male/Asian female pairing. I walked up to my usual herbal tea shop, got a large cup of bitter tea to drink as I sat and just watched people go by.

I didn’t feel like going home just yet, so I walked through the alleys, trying to find any I hadn’t trodden before, back up to Ximen, where a huge cosplay event was going on in the square by the Red House. Photographers were everywhere, so I gave it a wide berth before catching the subway back to the Water Curtain Cave.

It was such a nice day that I couldn’t stay home, though. I headed back out, up the river to the very nice fish ladder they’ve recently added to the Bitan Bridge catchment (or, as the local birds call it, the fresh fish market), carefully traversing the precarious rocks and protruding steel beams that make up the riverbank there to watch the sunset from the water’s edge before heading over to RT Mart to buy apples. I then picked up some salmon sushi for dinner, went back home and prepared for the penultimate session of the photography class I’m teaching as a guest lecturer at Shih Hsin University this semester.

So, nothing special, just a good day. I just wanted to note how grateful I am that they do happen.

posted by Poagao at 10:37 am  
Oct 17 2023

Looking back, pushing forward

Last Saturday night, the Muddy Basin Ramblers played our last-ever show at Bobwundaye, which is closing its doors for good at the end of the month as the entire block is going to be torn down. The Ramblers have a long history at Bob’s, as we call it. In fact I first played with them, informally before officially joining the band, at the previous iteration of Bob’s about a block away. Three of my very early photos still hang on the walls among the murals and posters from shows over the decades. I Ubered into town with Cristina and Zach to find the place already filling up; I saw some familiar faces and chatted a bit before the soundcheck. The murals along the orange walls exuded melancholia; we all knew it would be the last time we played there. A small film crew consisting of two people was going around with a Sony camera and boom mic interviewing various people about how they felt.

The show itself, a retelling in celebration of the 10-year anniversary of our second album (and first Grammy nomination), Formosa Medicine Show, started slow but quickly gained momentum as the audience dug into the vibe. And after two sets on that tiny, crowded staged, everyone jostling each other to get to our various instruments between songs, the show concluded in several raucous encores and exultant applause. I spent the time in between sets sitting on the curb outside, away from all the chatting, drinking people, just staring at the lights of the evening traffic and enjoying the cooler weather. After the show I had a few conversations, some good and some downright bizarre, before catching a cab back to the Water Curtain Cave to sleep. Hard to believe it’s been nearly 20 years of doing this kind of thing.

Sunday morning I woke up to a flurry of discord messages asking if I was down to do the VR improv comedy show I’ve been involved in for the past few months. But no, I was not down; I wanted -no, needed- to go to the park to get some tai-chi practice in. Yes, dear readers, perhaps even those who remember my Monkey Learns to Push blog of yore, I am back at it after a long, mostly Covidian-inspired hiatus filled with intermittent indoor VR-game-driven aerobic exercise and the occasion jaunt up the hill out back. To be honest, aside from the health benefits of practicing tai-chi, I missed hanging out with the fellas in our group at the park. Though Teacher X has long retired from teaching, Little Qin, who studied along with Teacher X back in the day, is still instructing. As such, Little Qin is technically my 師叔, but his style is different from that of Teacher X. In any case, just showing up is an accomplishment for me, and going through the sword form and the empty handed form felt really, really good after all this time, even though I’ve forgotten most of them. Push-hands too, with the delivery guy and a newer student who didn’t know me. It was…ok, though I am really rusty and inflexible after so long away from it. I just need to keep it up. Alas, I am unable to continue my old tradition of going to Gongguan for delicious Lebanese pitas afterwards, as my beloved Sababa closed years ago.

Speaking of returning to things: I’m also teaching photography again, this time at Shihsin University, just for this semester as a guest lecturer, although I might be open to a more permanent arrangement in the future. In any case, teaching university students is…different, I have to say. Previously when teaching at the community college, pretty much everyone in the class wanted to be there (except possibly the sullen band of Influencers who showed up that one semester fishing for Likes and Follows), but, while many of these students, all of them seniors, seem inspired by photography and work to improve their skills, a few seem to be more interested in what they see as an easy credit before graduating. Still, the ones who are interested are quick learners, picking it up faster than most of the community college students did, and that’s just using mobile phone cameras. There will be an exhibition at the end of the semester at the end of the year, and some kind of related event. It will be interesting to see where all of this goes.

posted by Poagao at 11:42 am  
Jun 12 2023

Two Stages

So I performed on two very different stages this last weekend.

Hauling my instruments across the bridge in the wind and rain to Chez Paradise wasn’t pleasant, but we had to practice at least once before we headed down to Longtan to play a show in the large covered square in front of Longyuan Temple. Practice? you say incredulously. Yes, dear reader, although we usually wouldn’t need to go to such extremes, the Ramblers were down three players this game, as Cristina, Zach and Thumper were all off in distant lands, frolicking with familial folks and whatnot. We called upon the Auxiliary Rambler Forces, namely Sylvain and Hu Chun, who have come to our aid several times in the past, to fill in. But we needed to practice. I’d thought I was running late, but it turned out that I was the first to arrive (after David, who is house-sitting at Le Chez). Slim was under the weather and didn’t appear for another couple of hours, but he was looking sharp (if tired) when he did.

Our driver Mr. Gao, top-knot well-coifed as usual, met us in the alley; we packed into his van and headed down the jam-packed highway. Soundcheck was at 4:30, and we were met in front of the temple by Chenbl’s “Little Aunt” (his mother’s youngest sister), who is herself a famous street singer in Longtan. Her nickname is Xiao Long Nu (小龍女), known for her melodious singing voice. Everyone remarked at the family resemblance, not just in looks but in singing voice; Chenbl also loves to sing and is quite good as well…his aunt told us, “Chenbl was always singing Teresa Teng songs as a kid!” which is eminently believable. David, being the coffee aficionado that he is, had sniffed out the best coffee stand at the street market in front of the temple, so I joined him in sampling tasty some ice coffee, along with a cinnamon bun from a neighboring stall.

We went through soundcheck for all our instruments; I had clip-on mics for my trumpet and baritone, and the bass mic was booming nicely. We had to wrap up quickly as the gods, upon their palanquins and accompanied by lion dancers and various high-level officials, were returning, their imminent arrival heralded by the usual fury of fireworks. We had some time before the show, so I threw caution to the winds and left my umbrella in the temple green room, setting out for a stroll up the street and around the eponymous lake of Longtan where people were paying to take dragon boat rides across the water under the big white bridge.  I took a detour through a covered side market when it started raining again, by an old camera shop whose window contained the same camera that we had when I was growing up, an Argus Seventy-Five. It was the first camera I ever knew, and one which I was always walking around the house with, looking down through the glass viewfinder. When I got around to researching it, I found that it was actually not that great a camera, but I had fun with it before I got my own camera (a Pentax K1000) when I was 15.

Chenbl's aunt took this pic of us playing on the stage at Longyuan TempleOur show was supposed to start at 8:30, but the stage was full of Very Important Politicians/lion dancers, so we didn’t get on stage until a little later, and our show was cut so short I didn’t even play the baritone, and the trumpet for just one song (At least they didn’t cut our pay). Chenbl’s aunt sat in the front-row section reserved for Very Important People (“Everyone here knows me,” she said, and I believe her), making videos and taking selfies with us in the background, and the crowd seemed to really enjoy the music. And while we were still the Muddy Basin Ramblers, it was a rather different experience minus the missing members…softer, less raucous. Not worse, just different. Sylvain and Hu Chun played wonderfully, of course, but you can’t replace saxophone and violin with guitar and mandolin and expect the same sound.

Mr. Gao whisked us back to Xindian much more quickly after traffic had died down in the late evening, though it was still raining. I hauled my gear back to the Water Curtain Cave and went straight to bed. It had been quite a day.

Then I woke up on Sunday morning and wondered if the comedy show was going down.

Allow me to provide a little background: A couple of weeks ago I saw a post on one of the VR groups I belong to, inviting people to attend a VR recreation of the famous improv comedy show “Whose Line Is It Anyway?” called, imaginatively and no doubt for copyright reasons, “Whose Turn Is It Anyhow?” I’ve long been a fan of the show, so last Sunday morning I showed up at the space in Meta Horizon Worlds, and while talking with the organizers, was invited on stage to participate. I demurred at first, wanting to see exactly what they were doing, and although some of the younger participants had, uh, questionable taste in their choice of jokes, it was actually an interesting experiment. So when they asked me again if I wanted to go on stage, I said ok.

And I gotta say, it was a blast. They organized mostly the same games as the show, with four players on stage, and while there were some technical issues, it went pretty well. I had to really think about what I was going to say, but also react quickly. The organizers and the audience both seemed to like what I was doing and invited me back. I said we’ll see.

So, back to Sunday morning, just out of bed after a long day in Longtan, drinking coffee to revive and recover: I thought, I need to take it easy today, but…what the hell, let’s see what they’re doing. I went back to the space, inviting my friend Sean, who also grew up in Florida, and immediately felt a little foolish when we arrived as the place was empty. “I guess they’re not doing it?” I said, disappointed, thinking, but it had been such a good idea.

The Whose Turn Is It Anyhow stage on Meta Horizon WorldsThen a bunch of avatars popped in and waved to us. “You’re in the wrong instance! We’re at the new space!” Oh, ok. We ported to the new space, and it was full of people. I was curious to see if the first time had been a fluke, but no; I spent the next couple of hours on stage doing improv with the other three players, and again, it was SO much fun. We did the alphabet game, the bachelor game, and Questions Only, where I was a little too good, leaving my partner stranded on the sidelines for nearly the entire time (That was rude of me btw; I will try not to do that in the future). The organizers had wanted to do Props, but the mechanics were wonky so they held off on that one, which is a shame as that’s one of my favorite Whose Line games. One of the player’s native language wasn’t English, but despite being out of the loop regarding certain cultural references, she did a great job. The room stayed maxxed out (which isn’t saying a whole lot as the Meta Horizon rooms are only able to hold 30-something people), but someone was streaming it on Tik Tok, so there was that.  The jokes definitely got more than a little risqué, and I’m sure that the Meta staff were “observing” the space, but at no point did anyone get out of hand or disrespectful. Horizons is the best place for that kind of thing, due to the fact that the Meta avatars are better and more animated than avatars in other spaces (so far…we’ll see what happens when Apple really gets into the game; their first attempt at a headset, the Vision Pro is already amazing in so many ways, not least of all price). The way my mind works, I have been thinking of better versions of what I said on stage, which is a little concerning, but then again, probably better to be fixated on that than my usual array of anxieties.

People have told me they could never get on stage in front of people, and I get it. Slim, as animated as he usually is on the stage, is always muttering “Heebie jeebies!” before shows, even though we’ve been doing this kind of thing for literally decades. I don’t really get that nervous in either case, but it was interesting to compare the two experiences. I actually felt more exposed on the VR comedy stage than I did on the real life musical stage. Perhaps that is because I’m used to playing music on stage and more or less know what I’m doing, whereas I’d never actually done improv before this. There are also many common elements between the two, e.g. reacting to other players, coming up with new lines, responding to the audience, timing, volume, tone, etc. Both leave me feeling emotionally drained and high at the same time, weirdly.

Perhaps in the future, as more of our lives move towards online experiences, and virtual and actual worlds meld into each other with MR and AR development, the whole concept of “being on stage” will evolve into something entirely different than how we think of it now. Certainly with the disappearance of “mainstream” media as the defining factor in what and whom we chose to engage with, the way we move socially in any space is being redefined.

There is of course the potential for all of this to devolve into a massive dumpster fire, but then again it might actually bring people closer together. In any case, it should be interesting to see where all of this goes.

 

 

posted by Poagao at 3:42 pm  
Apr 24 2023

Goings On

Summer is making a grudging entrance, with sporadic heat and rain typical of spring here. I recently bit the bullet and bought a new air conditioning system, one that is not only far quieter and more efficient than my last unit (which, following some negotiation, came with the apartment when I bought it 18 years ago), but also includes a heating function so I don’t have to rely on a leaky oil heater in the winter. Looking forward to having a nice toasty warm apartment on those cold rainy days. The government also provides subsidies for upgrading to more efficient units, which takes some of the punch out of the (still substantial) price tag, which includes not only the units but the installation. The workmen who installed the unit were efficient and professional, and my place only smelled like betelnut for a few days afterward.

The article I recently wrote and photographed for Standart Magazine concerning Taiwan’s coffee culture has been published. They got in touch with me at kind of the last minute, so for a couple of weeks I spent every day going to various cafes, roasters, bean sellers, etc., talking to them and taking photos and generally learning a lot about the development of coffee in Taiwan and how it seems to parallel our democratic development, which makes sense if you consider the era of relative increase in democratic discourse that followed the advent of coffeehouses in other places. Chenbl and I traveled down to Taichung to visit a coffee expert, then renting a car to drive up into the mountains to visit a coffee farm, which was a nice change of pace. The staff at Standart, which is a European publication, were great to work with, and it was nice to have a “mission” so to speak. You can see some of the work I made during that time here.

In other news, Maciej Dakowicz recently held one of his photography workshops in Taipei. Maciej and I first met at a Burn My Eye exhibition opening at a festival in London back in 2012, and we’ve kept in touch over the years. He messaged me about shooting in Taipei as the last time he’d been here was way back in 2003; obviously a lot has changed, and I gave him a few suggestions. When the group arrived Chenbl and I took them over to Snake Alley for dinner at Wang’s Broth, and I met up with them on their subsequent excursions in Taipei and Keelung. As I observed their process, it occurred to me that how I go about engaging in my photography is quite different from most people. Then again, a workshop is not most people’s normal interaction with photography; it is deliberately more intense and action-packed, with set goals and the pressure of producing a certain amount of work. Still, they seemed surprised that I pretty much always have a camera on my shoulder and another in my bag, no matter what I’m doing. For me, unless I’m on assignment, I just go about my life and photos just kind of happen. Tagging along with their group, I felt a bit like a slacker, only taking photos I happened to see while they strode purposefully down the street, cameras held at the ready in front of them, their eager gaze hunting for targets with each step. The group certainly had talent; Maciej had showed me their Instagram feeds beforehand and they’d made some very nice work. Most, it seemed, were returning students, and after witnessing the ease and synergy in the group I could understand why.

After a week, though, the workshop was over, and they had to leave. It was nice getting to know them, and I always enjoy seeing my home through the fresh eyes of visitors. Some of the students said I should hold more international photography workshops here…it’s worth considering.

In other other news, the Ramblers played a gig last weekend at the Spring Wave music festival at a “glamping” complex in Taichung. Glamping is apparently short for glamorous camping, with luxury tents and food trucks and nice showers; the adjacent fields were covered with individual tents, and rows of food stalls lines the path between the four stages. The audience was mostly fairly affluent young people, and our show went pretty well. Little Scarlett collected quite a few interesting rocks. We’ve also been working on our latest album, recording at Cristina and Zach’s house before proceeding to an actual studio next week. Last weekend I recorded four different songs on four different instruments: trumpet, euphonium, tuba and bass; it was a very long weekend, needless to say. But the songs David’s chosen for this album are real top-tapping earworms; going back to our roots, so to speak. It should be a good one.

 

posted by Poagao at 11:57 am  
Feb 14 2023

Subscription or nah?

The thing about this subscription system is that I feel pressure to make each and every post somehow “worthy” of actually notifying someone about, rather than just blathering about on here and hey, if you happen to read it, great. You’d think that the quality of my posting on here would consequently get better. You’d also be wrong, because the actual result is just me thinking: Hey, I feel like writing about whatever random thought I had and just seeing where it goes, but then I’d remember that actual people have subscribed to this account, and what if they feel cheated, having not gotten anything worth their time? And I’d think: I’ll just wait until I have something worth writing about.

You can see how that’s going (not great). So the question is: Should I just abandon the subscription system and just continue to write half-assed ditherage on here? Or just let it continue with the followers I have and stop telling anyone about it? The obvious answer, some of you might be thinking, would be actually putting more effort into making better posts, but all I can tell you about that is HAHAHA…no.

I have slowly been making incremental improvements to my photography site, within the bounds of that Google Sites can provide of course. Google seems to be slowly adding capabilities to it, so I will be working on that as improvements to the design become available. It’s sufficient for now, in any case, and perfectly fine for a free service. I also spent much of January working on an actual assignment, which I’ll talk about when it’s actually published.

The Ramblers have also been busy; we’re now working on putting together our latest album, which is technically our fifth (I think). The band formed 20 years ago in 2003, though I joined the next year, in 2004 (you can read about that particular night here) around the time we began filming the Lady X movie. Last night we played on a huge stage at Taipei 101, a crowd a dancers swinging away to our music in the shadow of the former world’s tallest building, now adorned with Blade Runner-esque video ads, lasers shooting into the sky as the temperature dropped and wind threatened to topple the music stands. Chenbl came by and we went to see the PXMart exhibition on the other side of Xinyi Road, which was basically a huge maze of vivid displays. They also had snacks. I was more interested in photographing the people taking photos of the displays, but 1) they did not like me ruining their photos of the displays, and 2) we had to get back to the stage for the show.

Afterwards, after we’d all said our goodbyes and gone our separate ways, I walked back across the bridge, carrying the Bach Stradivarius trumpet that has been my constant companion for over 40 years, and thought: This is nice, this life. I have a good job, a nice Water Curtain Cave (that should be paid off soon-ish) to live in, someone who loves me and whom I love, good friends, and I live in a dynamic, democratic nation with decent affordable healthcare, generally liberal values, good public safety and infrastructure, and just a place in which I’m interested in playing a part. That part has varied greatly over the years, but they have all been meaningful, and that’s something for which I am extraordinarily grateful.

posted by Poagao at 11:42 am  
Oct 11 2022

Weiwuying Gig

So the Ramblers played a show in Kaohsiung on Double Ten day, at the Weiwuying Arts Center, taking the bullet train down from Taipei at noon for an afternoon soundcheck. David had shown us photos, but nothing prepared me for the actual sight of the place we were to play. “That’s no stage…that’s a space station,” I couldn’t help but whisper as we were ushered into a giant atrium that looked like we were hovering underneath an upside-down starship. Hard, curved surfaces everywhere. Surely the acoustics were impossible? But somehow they made it work for the soundcheck. And they provided bento meals, which we took back to our hotel, which was about a half hour’s walk away. Once outside, I pulled down my mask for a moment to inhale the mix of small- and medium-sized industry fumes and scooter exhaust with just a hint of coal and thought, yes, this is Kaohsiung alright. Each city has its peculiar scent. Take out the coal and humidity, and then add a bit of incinerator smoke and you’ve got Taichung. All of these take me back to the days of my youth, inevitably.

I sampled the free hotel ice cream and took a nap as night fell, before heading back to the arts center for the actual show. I took a circuitous route through the park and around the large outdoor stage with its pop show and screaming fans. The show went well enough, but, possibly because some of us had consumed way too much caffeine, we played nearly ever song about 20% faster than usual, resulting in a rather frantic pace. Afterward some fans came up and told us what they thought of the show, and it was mostly nice things. Then back to the hotel, putting instruments away, plugging in whatever needed charging, relieved at wrapping up another gig. Some of our foreign fans had come to see the show, and everyone ended up in front of the nearest 7-Eleven, drinking, chatting and sampling questionable convenience-store versions of fancy cuisine. I didn’t stay; I was tired and not feeling talkative, so I went to bed, actually sleeping better than I do at the Water Curtain Cave.

Of course that might just be a function of traveling, of being in a different city with the prospects of the kind of discoveries that only aimless, solitary wandering can achieve. Even just a few hours of this can do wonders for my mood. Would it be so hard to just take a train south for the weekend, just to decompress and unwind, spending a night or two in a cheap business hotel? I used to do it; perhaps covid has thrown a wrench into such things, but I miss doing that kind of thing. Chenbl loves to plan everything Just So, with itineraries and restaurants and things to see all at certain times, but my ideal day is just open and unplanned. Perhaps this is why I have failed to accomplish so many things I otherwise might have, but I can’t help but brighten at the thought of what might happen if I just allow the space for it. But yes, that does usually involve some amount of planning.

The next day dawned bright and warm, and I went out for a walk around the area, crossing across parks and alleys in the areas and exploring the interesting Guandi Temple with, for some reason, statues of large-eyed Europeans in crusade drip at the foot of its stairs. Inside were huge, marvelous god statues, though. But I had to get back, have some hotel breakfast and a shower before we caught a mosquito-ridden cab back to the High-speed rail station at Zuoying where our train departed just before 11 a.m., speeding north through brilliant rice fields, towns and, eventually, mountains. An hour and a half later and several degrees colder we were parting ways in the grey, indefinite climate of Taipei Main Station, them to who knows where, and me back to the office. We’ve got lots of shows coming up; it seems that many of the gigs that were put off during covid are coming back now, and October is always a busy month regardless. At least I’m playing so much that practice is virtually guaranteed.

As per my last post, I did sign up for TinyLetter for a newsletter-type setup, but for some reason this has made me extremely hesitant to post. It all still feels pretentious to me; I feel that if people are waiting for me to write things, with Expectations and all that, they will most likely be disappointed in the random rambling accounts that have dominated this journal for the past two-plus decades. Then again, everyone has a Substack account these days, so is it really all that different from the original blog era? Perhaps, but in any case, screw it; I write what I write.

posted by Poagao at 3:37 pm  
Aug 02 2022

Busy days

Things are getting busy again, on several levels. Despite all the Twitter-based hullabaloo about Pelosi’s upcoming visit to Taiwan (most of which can’t even be called journalism and completely misses the point), life goes on as normal here as ever.

Last week the Ramblers played a three-day-long gig at the Lin Family Gardens in Banqiao, in a courtyard out in front of one of the old halls. My instrument cart no doubt scuffed several of the centuries-old stone door frames on my way in, but I’ve always liked the place so it was nice to play there despite the oppressive heat. The staff were nice, providing us with tasty bento dinners, souvenir photos of us playing in cute frames, and even umbrellas when a heavy downpour followed our second performance. Thumper and Red Man missed the first show, so Sylvain filled in. Our old friend Chalaw worked wonders at the soundboard to make us sound good, and despite not having played in a good while we managed to put out three solid shows in three days. In between the brutally hot soundchecks and the shows later in the evening I would walk around the neighborhood exploring the various alleys and bridges, the markets and temples. Police on scooters zoomed around checking people’s IDs. After the shows it was cool to be able to wander the complex at night, when it’s usually closed, imagining all the shenanigans and goings-on that happened there back in the days when it was an oasis of culture and taste amid empty fields and swamps. Now it’s an oasis of culture and taste amid apartment buildings and shops of every description.

On the morning after the last show, I met up with Chenbl  and his parents at the Taipei high-speed rail station; we had breakfast on the bullet train south, arriving in Taichung in short order. Chenbl’s parents were staying at The Lin Hotel, a ritzy place near the National Theater, whereas we were staying at a place called simply The Place in another part of town. The neighborhood is crammed full of  swank high-rises now, totally unlike when the Ramblers performed at Tiger City so many years ago, the bitterly cold wind blowing across empty lots as we played. We took a train to the impressive Nantian Temple, which features a giant statue on top, and then a bus to the Second Market, a hexagonal affair, where we had delicious noodles for lunch.

We then strolled through the city through the artsy West District. It’s been too long since I visited Taichung; I miss it. Chenbl’s father commented that Taichung seems to have more potential these days. While Taipei’s been content to rest on its laurels as the capital, Taichung these days seems more about exploration and experimentation. It’s also more physically spread out, which makes a second metro line a must  if the city’s going to continue developing.  Residents apparently don’t even have to pay for bus trips under 10 kilometers. We walked to the Place where Chenbl and I were staying, put some stuff away, and headed out again when what had seemed like imminent rain did not manifest.

As a lot of walking was going on, we all packed light, though Chenbl’s father insisted on carrying several heavy bottles of water in his backpack. I only brought one bag as it was just one night and all I needed to bring besides what I usually have on me was an extra shirt. After going through a series of cheap bags whose zippers would break almost immediately, not to mention a Domke that eventually disintegrated, and on the recommendation of some local photographer friends as well as the badge of approval of DPreviews’ Chris Nichols and Big Head Taco, I recently spent bag to get bag from Wotancraft, a local company, and so far I like it a lot. It looks heavy but is actually quite light and comfortable.

Sunset was seen from the odd and interesting roof of the National Theater, which reminded me of that of the Casa Mia apartment building in Barcelona. Chenbl’s parents were fine dining at The Lin’s popular restaurant, so Chenbl and I headed over to the food court at Tiger City for some excellent beef rice bowls.

On Monday morning we took a bus over to The Lin, and then walked to Taichung City Hall, a trim and efficient pair of buildings linked up in the middle. We browsed the exhibition and then took a bus at one of the failed BRT “stations” to another part of town to look at Literature Museum which features a huge old tree in the courtyard. As we were wondering how old said tree was, rain began pouring down. Chenbl’s mother was the only one of us with the sense to bring a real umbrella; she took refuge in a small pavilion while Chenbl’s father and I moved to a tin structure where we could feel the rain pounding on the roof reverberating throughout the entire structure. Chenbl had found a handy arcade. There we all waited for the rain to ease, and it did after about an hour. Chenbl’s father is always full of interesting stories and advice, so the time went by quickly. We then walked to the old martial arts hall, and then took a bus back to the train station, where we spent the rest of the afternoon having ice cream treats and dinner at the Miyahara Confectionery, previously an Optometrist’s office but now more like a rebranded Harry Potter exhibition with cookies. At one point Chenbl and I popped out to get some of the obligatory suncakes. Chenbl refused to be seen carrying the other store’s suncakes into the confectionery, as apparently there’s some rivalry going on there, so he made me carry them instead as I apparently DNGAF about such things.

Chenbl’s parents were itching to get back home, so we took an early train from the huge new station, dwarfing the stately old one next to it, back to the high speed rail station, and then back to Taipei and home. It was good to get out of town for a bit; we need to do it more often. Chenbl and I are scheduled to get our second booster next week, and case numbers are dropping steadily, though I still suspect that when the new variants might arrest that trend, but most people seem to still be wearing masks (despite all the white dudes on those sites howling in protest all day), so perhaps we can still get through all of this ok.

posted by Poagao at 12:00 pm  
Mar 21 2022

Hengchun jaunt

Thursday night was spent getting all my stuff I needed for our series of weekend gigs at the folk music festival in Hengchun, the southernmost town in Taiwan, into either my instrument cases or a small backpack. In the end I managed, but it was a close thing. It had been a while since I’d taken such a trip. Indeed, it had been a full cycle, 12 years since we last played there, in 2010, which was also the Year of the Tiger. Tiger to Tiger, as it were.

I lugged the whole kit to work on Friday morning, nearly forgetting to print out the set lists before heading over to the train station to meet up with the others on the train. Electronic tickets make meeting on the train doable, avoiding the anxiety produced when someone or other is late. Thumper was missing from our ranks this time, alas, due to family issues. Zach was filling in as best as he could amid all his other duties, including being a parent as he and Cristina were bringing little Miss Scarlett Danger with them, but Thumper’s reassuring rhythmic sense would no doubt be missed.

I snagged a window seat and let my mind unwind as we slipped out of the basin and away south, away from offices, classes and the daily grinds. By the time we hit Kaohsiung an hour and a half later I was in a much more appropriate mood, but the longest part of the journey remained, as there is, alas, no railway to Hengchun; it’s a glaring example of the lack of resources devoted to the southern part of the country. Politicians haggle over whether we need another metro line out to Keelung, but Hengchun remains accessible only by a long, two-hour traffic-ridden coastal road to this day. Fortunately the organizers had sent two nicely appointed vans to take us down, and even though conversation made the ride go by quickly, it was night by the time we pulled up to our hostel. Or rather, what we thought was our hostel. It turned out there were two similar ones, so we got back in and drove down the road a bit to the second one, the Lovestar Lakeside Hotel, which, unlike the first one, is not actually on the lake (thus the confusion). As David and I walked into the lobby, a man in glasses and a green shirt rushed out from behind the front desk, exclaiming, “It’s you!”

We looked at each other, confused. “You’re TC Lin!” he gushed. “I’ve seen all your videos and interviews!” Then he asked me to sign his shirt. It was all a bit discombobulating, but he was very nice. In fact the whole staff there were very nice, and got us all sorted into our rooms while we waited for some Uber Eats dinner to enjoy before heading over to the event for our late-night soundcheck. The West Gate square, where we’d played 12 years before, was filled with a huge stage and a lot of people. A classical violinist was doing his soundcheck, and groups of elderly women with traditional instruments sat in groups behind the stage, chatting. Out along the square some interesting cafes and art stands made the place seem quite different than it had on our last visit. The sound staff were professional and did a great job.

Our first show was late Saturday night, so we basically had all day to ourselves. After a nice breakfast of Eggs Benedict and coffee provided by the hotel, most of the others headed down to the beach, but I headed out to walk around Hengchun. I’d wanted to take a bus but a cabbie offered to take me for NT$50 so I hopped in. He dropped me off at the south gate.

Hengchun’s old city wall is remarkably well preserved; most cities tore theirs down long ago, but for whatever reason Hengchun kept most of its wall and all of its gates. Unsure of where exactly to go, I chatted with a restaurant owner by the gate as he played with a hefty grey cat sitting at the door. “Is that an M?” he asked, spotting my camera. It turns out he uses an M4 and does a bit of photography himself. We exchanged IGs and he suggested following the wall. This I did, and I was surprised to find streets lined with hip and trendy cafes, art spaces and restaurants, tourists and other young people walking around snapping shots and staring at laptops. Was it usually like this? I had no idea.

I continued to walk towards the West Gate and then through the town. Once I left the trendy old street area things got pretty quiet. I somehow wandered into a construction zone and then found myself on a school campus without knowing how. Lunch was salmon quiche and coffee at a cat-themed cafe that, like many of the places I saw, I can’t find on Google Maps because it’s so new. “Why have that?” Chenbl complained when I told him about it on the phone. “You should be having local delicacies!” He was right; I was just enticed by the cats.

A bus took me back to the hotel, where I rested up before getting ready for the night’s show. Standby was 9:30 as we were the last act, but we went over earlier to eat first. When we got there, we found that apparently the entire population of the southern peninsula had arrived; the square was packed with people. One of the reasons for this was the fact that the Taipei Philharmonic Orchestra was playing. Police led various officials through the crowd to the stage to give speeches. We found some of our friends from Taitung and Dulan who had set up stands nearby. I tried to get up on the West Gate but apparently there was a musical group up there as well, so I wandered on the periphery of the crowd instead.

Photo by Zany Feng @zanyfeng

Zach, David and me on stage. Photo by Zany Feng.

Our show, when we finally got on stage, went well. Perhaps too well, as shortly after we’d started one audience member, a tall man in light blue shorts, sauntered up on stage, first filming us before being escorted back down, then coming up to “sing” before being escorted back down, and then actually taking an empty CD cover David had placed there and setting down a NT$1000 note on the stand to pay for it, before being escorted back down. The crowd apparently knew him and roared their approval whenever he came up; we just smiled and kept playing. Later the man’s friend, who had been trying to keep him in check the whole time, apologized, saying that, even though he was quite drunk at the time, he was pretty much like that when he was sober too.

After the show we got in the vans and, still high from the show, drove out through the west gate, which was much more thrilling than it sounds. It felt like a magic portal.

Our show on Sunday afternoon was listed as a “workshop” rather than a show, but the organizers had planned for it to be simply another show on the big stage. We realized, however, that it would be quite cool if we went down off the stage and actually had more interaction with the crowd, explaining how to play some of our more interesting instruments, the background of our music, etc. One older fellow claimed the washtub, so I quickly taught him how to play it, and a young woman did a great job playing the washboard. The crowd loved it, as did we; it was a great success. In fact the whole event has evolved beyond recognition of the last 12 years in fact, and it bodes well for Hengchun’s cultural development. After the show I got some local delicacies, including some delicious crispy basil danbing and green bean ice. I also had some nice ice cream and coffee from a lovely place on the square, located in a renovated building, called Spoon in Pocket.

Too soon it was time to go; we piled into the vans and headed back up the coast. I put some tunes on my portable speaker and hung it from the window to provide a soundtrack for the journey through the heavy traffic. Fortunately we made it to Zuoying Station with enough time to get some dinner; I picked up a Mos Burger meal and headed down to the platforms to find our High Speed Steed awaiting, but none of the others had shown up. I got on the nearly empty train wondering if I’d got the wrong one, but eventually everyone showed up and we were speeding north once again. Slim and I caught a cab; when the cabbie asked if he could take the elevated expressway we agreed, happy to see the lights of the basin.

If I’d had my druthers, I wouldn’t have minded spending a week or two in Hengchun, getting to know the place a bit better. It seems like more young people are moving back there and opening new businesses; there’s a real feeling of potential. It will be interesting to see where it goes.

Now all they need is a railway link.

 

posted by Poagao at 12:44 pm  
Dec 10 2021

National Concert Hall shows

My co-workers were reminded that I play in a band last Friday when I hauled all my instruments, including my trumpet, euphonium and washtub bass stick, with me to work in the morning. The reason was that the Muddy Basin Ramblers were embarking on a two-day run at the National Concert Hall, which is kind of a big deal here. I stopped for a salmon sandwich on the way over, getting there around 2. Though we had rehearsed there before to get all the sound stuff right, we were going through the whole shebang again in the afternoon. It wasn’t easy, playing effectively two shows in a row. I went over to the Mos Burger under the parking ramp for a coffee and chocolate boost, and found that they were selling several different flavors of Tim Tams, an Australian chocolate treat I’ve been a fan of since my trip there in 2001. I bought a package of caramel ones.

Chenbl showed up that afternoon to help sell CDs and merchandise at a table in the lobby. We then had some nice healthy bento dinners. The staff at the NCH were very professional and took care of everything. A bit before the show, David was asking if anyone had any chocolate, so I gave him a Tim Tam, and then offered them to everyone else there. I could tell he was nervous about the show as he even took a sip of whiskey before we walked on stage to a packed house. I wondered if the concert hall staff,  who were surely more accustomed to classical music aficionados, were used to the raucous nature of our usual audience, but they seemed to take it in stride.

The combination of whiskey and caramel Tim Tams wasn’t great for David’s voice at the start, but he soon overcame it, and the show was a roaring success. I had been holding back during the rehearsal because I know I only have so much playing in me for one day, and had enough left for the show. I think I might have even smiled a couple of time. Our musical friend Ric 荒山亮 added a lot to the show with his Taiwanese Hokkien rendition of Dance Age. Chenbl did a bang-up job in the lobby, selling most of the CDs and merch, and we signed a bunch of things afterward in the main lobby. Some of my photography students even showed up.

Saturday morning I experimented on ordering a big breakfast on Food Panda, which might not have been a great decision as I wasn’t in the mood for lunch by the time I showed up back at the NCH for our second show. We didn’t go through the entire show on Saturday, but I was tired from the previous day despite a burger, chocolate and more coffee from Mos Burger, not to mention another good bento dinner. The second show was…fine. For sure, Steve and Cadence danced up a storm on stage, the house was packed again, I saw some more friends and students in the audience, and David’s voice was much better due to his abstinence from chocolate and whiskey; I just wasn’t really playing at the top of my game…nothing horrible, just sloppy here and there. Chenbl couldn’t make it on Saturday either, but we managed to sell some CDs and other merchandise anyway, and signed more stuff out in the lobby after the show. Then it was back inside to clear out our things, and back out to the parking lot, past the crowds of fans of the other classical concert that had been taking place in the other auditorium, and sitting on the bench by the smoking section and drink machines where we hung out while recording Hold That Tiger years ago. The other Ramblers were buzzing from the show and talking with friends, mostly foreigners, who had come to see us. I sat by myself for a few minutes and then went home.

Chenbl woke me up on Sunday morning, calling to say they were heading out to the Fuzhong area in Banqiao, so I took the subway over and followed his geolocation dot on my phone to the market where he and his mother were looking at this and that. Chenbl’s mother often says she hates walking, but in markets she can walk forever, it seems. I stood in the middle of the street, greedily soaking up the sunshine I’ve long been missing and occasionally snapping a picture, while they shopped. I also picked up a nifty Lucky Beckoning Cat doormat (Last one in the shop! For a pittance! You know how it goes). We met up with Chenbl’s father at the temple after lunch at a place near the market, and then walked over to Banqiao Station to look at the Christmas displays there. We sat down near some Lego setups and talked…well,  Chenbl’s father talked and I listened, mostly. He has a deep, extensive knowledge of many things, particularly politics and engineering, which was his profession before he retired. Originally from Tainan, his Mandarin has a strong Taiwanese accent; he is also a great resource for Taiwanese questions I have, which is quite a lot as my Taiwanese could be a lot better.

Dinner was braised pork rice at a nice restaurant in Snake Alley; the place was hopping, in stark contrast to how empty the area was during the outbreak in cases there over the summer. It’s good to see it coming back, and the food was delicious. I was feeling much better.

Tomorrow we’re back at it with two more gigs in one day (!)…out in Nangang in the afternoon and then Tiger Mountain in the evening. Unfortunately Taiwan saw it’s first local case of Covid in a while yesterday in the Nangang area, so despite being fully vaxxed I think it would be best to play it safe and stay masked up when possible. The predilection of most people here to stay masked has been one of the many reasons we’ve managed this so well so far, despite the anti-mask conspiracy theorist white dudes ranting and raving on f.com and the FB expat groups. Omicron will get here eventually as well, but hopefully our vaccination rates will continue to rise enough to keep the impact manageable.

posted by Poagao at 12:01 pm  
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