By: Heidi Kwok, Staff Writer
Birdy is a dance performance created by Hung Dance, a Taiwanese contemporary dance company founded in 2017 with the belief that “movement can transcend limitation.” The Mandarin character “翃” (Hóng), which means “to soar,” inspired the name of the group. The production follows eight dancers who draw on elements from traditional and modern dance styles, cultural symbols, Chinese opera, and martial arts. Birdy will make its local debut at the Vancouver Playhouse on November 28 and 29. The Peak corresponded with Hung Dance’s artistic director and choreographer, Lai Hung-Chung, to learn more.
What is Birdy about?
Birdy is about freedom — about the desire to fly beyond the boundaries that try to contain us. At its core, the work examines how individuals and communities navigate the tension between restraint and liberation.
The piece explores freedom on multiple levels: the freedom of the body, the freedom of the mind, and the freedom of a society searching for its own sense of balance. It asks a simple but urgent question: how do we keep moving when the world around us is full of uncertainty?
Through a language that blends stillness and turbulence, softness and strength, Birdy reveals the quiet resilience that lives inside all of us.
— Lai Hung-Chung, Artistic Director and Choreographer at Hung Dance
It isn’t about a single narrative — it’s about the universal human instinct to transcend limitations, to find grounding amid chaos, and to breathe fully even in moments of struggle.
Where did the inspiration for the choreography, sound design, and use of the “Ling Zi” and rattan poles come from? Was the dance informed by any other artistic influences?
The creative inspiration came from many layers — from my memories of Taiwanese temple festivals, where Taiwanese opera troupes perform on the streets as offerings to the gods, and from the physical discipline I received through my dance education.
The Ling Zi (pheasant feathers) and rattan poles come directly from traditional Chinese opera imagery. Traditionally, the feathers represent authority and power. I wanted to deconstruct that symbol — to let every dancer hold a Ling Zi as an extension of the spine, a physical and energetic continuation of both alignment and strength, so it becomes a channel for emotion rather than dominance. The rattan poles, once spears, have lost their sharp tips and have been transformed into something softer, more reflective — symbols of both limitation and support.
Beyond traditional roots, Birdy was also influenced by Sir Alan Parker’s film Birdy and by Francis Bacon’s paintings. The film’s exploration of trauma and liberation resonated deeply with me, while Bacon’s treatment of distorted bodies and stark lines inspired elements of our lighting design. These artistic references shaped the emotional landscape of the piece — its fragility, its tension, its unspoken humanity.
Musically, the work blends electronic soundscapes with simulated textures of traditional instruments, creating a sonic world that reflects Taiwan’s unique convergence of Eastern and Western cultural influences.
What was the extent to which Taiwan’s history and ongoing political instability shaped the performance?
I think it might be the other way around. It’s not that Birdy was directly shaped by history — rather, when people look back at this work years later, they might see in it the emotions and tensions of our time.
I don’t intend to make political statements. What I want to express is the feeling of uncertainty — the kind that comes from living in a place constantly shifting between identities, realities, and futures. That sense of instability seeps into the movement, the breath, and the silence between gestures.
Birdy reflects how we find calm amid turbulence — how we, as individuals and as a society, seek grounding when everything seems to be in motion.
See Birdy at the Vancouver Playhouse on November 28 and 29.