Panel Discussion II — A Debate between Brecht, Galileo, and Judgement

Joined by Yi-wei Keng, Oliver Reese, Wei-lian Wang, Sahar Rahimi, Chi-feng Chang, and members of the Yi-Shin Taiwanese Opera Troupe, this panel discussion examined the cross-cultural collision between Brecht's Life of Galileo, traditional Taiwanese opera (Kua-á-hì), and the mechanics of the Brechtian V-effect, covering Brecht's influence on Taiwan and the intrinsic language of Taiwanese performance.

Host Yi-wei Keng opened by highlighting Brecht’s early, structural engagement with Asian theater. Oliver Reese added that Brecht frequently studied Chinese opera performances and maintained a private collection of Chinese theatrical texts and manuals on Eastern body aesthetics. For Brecht, Asian theater was not an exotic curiosity; it was a foundational source that directly shaped his entire concept of the stage.

Addressing the link between Brecht and Chinese thought, Wei-lian Wang used Life of Galileo to reframe the text: while ostensibly about science, the play’s true engine is how humans make choices under systemic pressure. Galileo is a symbol of scientific truth, but his trajectory is driven by moral compromise and survival. As the narrative unfolds, the audience realizes that the pursuit of truth invariably collides with the precarity of human survival.

Wang noted that Brecht’s real power lies in his refusal to let characters settle into a single moral position. The stage becomes an analytical tool rather than a narrative vehicle. He linked this to both quantum mechanics and Chinese philosophy: in quantum systems, the observer is inherently part of the phenomenon; similarly, Eastern relational philosophy states that an individual cannot be uncoupled from the structures they inhabit.

The discussion's sharpest pivot occurred when analyzing the technical mechanics shared by Taiwanese opera and Brechtian stagecraft. Keng noted that Kua-á-hì absorbs Brechtian methods naturally because its performance language is already deeply vernacular and self-aware.

Members of the Yi-Shin Taiwanese Opera Troupe explained that the form’s historical roots—specifically the San-Xiao-Xi (Small-Scale Folk Plays)—emerged directly from street culture. Stock characters like clowns, bandits, and corrupt officials rely on explicit, non-illusionistic character archetypes. Furthermore, the genre's long-standing tradition of cross-gender performance (women portraying men) structurally enforces an aesthetic of distance, where the voice, movement, and persona are visibly constructed.

The panelists emphasized that adapting Western texts into Kua-á-hì is not about mimicking Western Modernism, but about weaponizing native theatrical grammar. The dramatic elongation of vocal notes, the stylized cadence of the spoken dialect, and the live, improvisational friction between the actors and the orchestra create an intense, unstable live energy.

To demonstrate this raw adaptability, the Yi-Shin performers broke the academic tension of the afternoon by delivering a spontaneous, traditional spoken blessing tailored to the event:

"Today is an auspicious day, and we are thrilled to gather in memory of Brecht. We wish you all robust health and immense wealth."

The execution instantly transformed the room, shifting the lecture from a passive seminar into an active, shared space.

Sahar Rahimi admitted her unfamiliarity with the medium, expressing surprise at how seamlessly the performers inhabited their characters without costumes or staging.

The troupe countered that fluidity and adaptation are encoded into the DNA of Kua-á-hì; characters are built dynamically through vocal projection, physical geometry, and rhythmic pulse alone.

Keng noted that this adaptability explains why Taiwanese troupes routinely deconstruct Western classics, from Faust to Brecht. While rooted in heritage, companies like Yi-Shin aggressively pursue formal experimentation.

Chang then provided historical context for this resilience, tracing the medium's mutations under the Japanese colonial assimilation policy (Kōminka), which heavily suppressed native elements, and its survival through local temple-plaza culture (Miō-kháu).

These street-level troupes performed traditional historical tragedies in the afternoon, then ôo-phiat-á-hì (experimental, hyper-hybridized pop operas featuring romance and comedy) at night. This permanent proximity to daily life allowed Taiwanese opera to develop a highly adaptable, resilient vernacular syntax.

Ultimately, Brecht in Taiwan functions as something far more complex than a translated Western classic. When his epic methodologies interface with temple-plaza culture, they dissolve into a performance language that already matches Taiwan's own socio-political history.

The most compelling takeaway from this exchange is not whether Taiwan can successfully replicate a "Brechtian" aesthetic. Instead, it forcefully realigns our perspective to show what was already native to the landscape: a Taiwanese theatrical tradition that has always commanded its own rhythmic pulse, its own fierce instinct for improvisation, and its own radical, unbroken intimacy with the crowd.