Sweat and tears
At 5:50 in the morning, students at NTCPA’s Neihu campus are energized and have already commenced the substantial set of exercises that they repeat, day in and day out. “Once or twice weekly, I find time to arrive early and watch the children’s morning training.” Professor Liu Chin-li, president of NTCPA, uses his attendance to concretely express his care and concern for teachers and students.
“Hone your fundamental skills or they will decline,” says troupe director Wang Tung-yuan. “There can be no stopping.” He joined the troupe upon graduation among the inaugural class of students from the Department of Acrobatics at National Fu Hsing Dramatic Arts Academy (NTCPA’s forerunner), at the same time as Wang Hsi-chung, the troupe’s current deputy director and formerly a member of Lee Tang-hua Acrobatics Troupe. For three decades, Wang Tung-yuan has insisted on training each day.
Training in challenging acrobatic maneuvers such as stacking, balancing, bouncing and tumbling goes on almost daily inside the Chung-Hsing Hall gymnasium on NTCPA’s Neihu campus.
NTCPA recruits fifth-grade pupils, who reside on campus where they lead a disciplined collective lifestyle.
The troupe logo resembles a bird in flight, its wings outstretched, an allusion to the importance of suppleness in acrobatics. “It uses a tangram image to visualize how a performer’s body is capable of numerous contortions,” explains marketing manager Huang Fu-chun. Inspired by this origami-like image, she has also created a series of elegant poems for use in publicity.
Whether she’s raising her legs high, twisting while prone, or even conversing with people, choreographer Shih Wan-chi continues spinning a plate on a long stick without a pause. One acrobat lies on the floor, practicing “drum kicking” by using his toe-tips to effortlessly rotate a weighty drum more than 60 centimeters in diameter. “They undergo at least eight years of basic skills training. Just to develop strong wrists and ankles takes at least six months to a year, otherwise they won’t attain the stability required,” assures Wang. Cultivating an acrobat is no mean feat in itself, and Wang Tung-yuan is proud of the professionalism of each troupe member.
There are countless maneuvers in the acrobatic repertoire, and it is very rare for a performer to master more than three or four. “Pole carrying for the pole-scaling act is my specialty,” says Wang Tung-yuan, revealing the thick, rough calluses on his shoulders born of many years of practice, indelible traces of the sweat and tears expended in honing his skills. The acrobat initially graduates from bamboo to aluminum poles, and even the weight of the pole alone is punishing. Scrapes and bruises during training are inevitable.
Artistic director Yang Yi-chuan points to a long pole that stands nearly six meters high. “Never mind for an ordinary person, even those of us acrobats who haven’t trained for this would get dizzy mounting that pole!” A round, sturdy rope made of coarse cotton attached to a belt around her waist, a female troupe member nimbly ascends the pole, and once at the top, she stretches out her limbs. “When we start training, we use safety equipment, naturally. But when it comes to the actual performance, then everything depends on real skill.”
Acrobatics are inherently very risky, and coupled with unpredictable variables posed by the venue, each and every performance is a gamble. This is especially true of aerial acts, such as the crowd-favorite “aerial silk.” Not only must one possess great physical strength and agility, but unusual courage and sheer nerve too. And since performers rely totally upon one another, collaboration must be seamless.
Early each morning, young students from the Department of Acrobatics at National Taiwan College of Performing Arts gather to work out in the gymnasium.