The film is over and the audience goes home, still enjoying the afterglow of their pleasurable adventure and the lingering charisma of the on-screen stars. But there are people the audience never sees—Foley artists, film editors, projectionists, and many more—who play a critical role in making the magic that is “the movies.”
Taiwan Panorama has over the years had cover features on film many times. But these have mainly focused on famous directors and actors: those in the limelight. For this issue, our editors opted to go behind the scenes. In one article, we lend an ear to Foley artist Hu Ding-yi, with 40 years of experience making sound magic. And through the story of film editor Liao Ching-song, readers will understand that the greatest films ever could have ended up as wasted celluloid without the erudite touch of a master editor.
Entering the profession as young men, but now grey-haired, they have personally witnessed half the history of Taiwan cinema. Through the changing economic fortunes of the industry, they have retained their enthusiasm and wonder for film, and stayed true to their professions for decades. But they are far from the only ones to have a lifelong passion for the cinematic world. In this issue we also report on “Moriyama” and Yan Jhen-fa, two masters of the disappearing art of hand-painted movie billboards and posters; and younger people like Gao Xiangqing, Jiang Minghe, and Chen Weiqiao, who have struggled to preserve old traditions from the “golden age” of the movies as community entertainment.
Three other stories in this issue, written at different times and in different places, turn out to have a common thread: light. Chou Lien, an internationally renowned lighting engineer, has decided to devote his talents to creating world-class lighting designs for local historic sites like Beigang’s Chaotian Temple and the old walled town of Hengchun. Meanwhile, the Coretronic Culture and Arts Foundation is hoping to restore pride and luster to remote and neglected localities through “adding and subtracting lighting.” And finally, artist Louis Yen, a seal engraver turned painter who now lives in Canada and has achieved worldwide fame, has devised his own method for bringing out the light and shadow within brushwork. All are “shining lights” of Taiwan.
In our continuing series “Old Residences,” this month we visit Changhua, the hometown of Lai Ho, known as the father of modern Taiwanese literature and “Taiwan’s Lu Xun.” Although his actual residence is no longer extant, Lai’s lifelong pursuit of social justice has left footprints all over the town. Returning to the place where he lived sheds new light on the message that Lai has—transcending time and space—for a new generation of readers.
May is here, and with it the renewed blossoming of life. This issue of Taiwan Panorama also is bursting with life, and offers you a new season of splendors.
