In New York City, the window between May and June signals the arrival of Tony Awards season. Smaller venues often avoid launching new productions during this time, knowing that critics are unlikely to look at a scrappy puppet show downtown when Broadway’s top contenders are in full swing. Whether or not one favors commercial theatre, the excitement in the Theater District is difficult to ignore. Passionate crowds line up for the season’s popular shows, hoping to catch a glimpse of their favorite stars. “Did you see that one?” “Who do you think will win?”
7800 miles away on an island, a group of people are working to generate a similar buzz.
The year of 2025 marks the inaugural Taipei Theatre Awards. Productions staged in publicly owned venues in Taipei, with a minimum of three performances, are eligible to apply. The awards feature 11 categories: Best Play, Best Musical, Best Director, Best Playwright, Best Theatre Design, Best Actor in a Play, Best Actress in a Play, Best Actor in a Musical, Best Actress in a Musical, Independent Spirit Award, and Special Contribution Award. Nominees and winners are selected by a 50-member committee consisting of forty industry professionals and ten citizens chosen through an open call. This year, 73 productions submitted a total of 647 applications, all of which are required to be viewed in person by committee members.
Greenray Theatre Company’s Ama in the House, written by Wu Nien-jen, a nominee for the Best Playwriting Award. Courtesy of Greenray Theatre Company.
The awards are administered by the Taipei City Government’s Department of Cultural Affairs. The Head of the Department, Tsai Shih-ping, seems both romantic and pragmatic. He noted that Taiwan’s theatre community has long yearned for formal recognition of its practitioners—“an award two decades in the making.” Moreover, the mayor, Chiang Wan-an, inspired by Daehangno in Seoul, envisions cultivating a vibrant theatre culture in Taipei. By holding the awards, Tsai aspires to build a thriving theatre ecosystem step by step, creating a competitive environment for promising theatre troupes and eventually making theatre a part of everyday life for Taipei’s citizens. However, Tsai acknowledged that the current focus on expedience might not meet everyone’s expectation, and as he stated in various interviews, “We are open to all kinds of criticism.” His phrase, “Start now, get perfect later” succinctly captures the tightrope Taipei Theatre Awards are now walking: between aspiration and reality, between creative freedom and state oversight.
Since the announcement of the Taipei Theatre Awards, critics have questioned its very premise. For instance, although the “Theatre Design Award” allows for up to three winners, many found it inadequate to group such a wide range of design disciplines under a single category. Others pointed out that contemporary performances have long since expanded beyond traditional theatrical space, so excluding private venues and non-conventional sites risks leaving out a significant spectrum of aesthetics.
A broader debate underpins the awards’ debut: Should the arts be overseen by a public agency? The tension is reminiscent of a prominent debate in the past. Contemporary theatre in Taiwan often attributes its origin story to the “Little Theatre Movement” that embarked in the 1980s Taipei. Despite varying interpretations, “Little” indicates its peripheral positionality vis-à-vis mainstream entertainment and its complicity with the authorities. Therefore in 1994, when the Council of Cultural Affairs co-hosted Ren Jian Fringe Festival, a program that presented several major “little theatre” artists, it raised concerns about artistic agency being undermined and regulated. Wang Mo-lin, the leftist critic and theatre veteran, thus famously declared “the death of the Little Theatre Movement,” lamenting the loss of political momentum to an ever-growing capitalist society, while Chi Wei-jan, the renowned playwright and theatre scholar, argued that the relationship between institutional incorporation and artistic resistance is far more intricate and nuanced.
approaching theatre’s Ghostopia scores four nominations across eleven award categories. Courtesy of approaching theatre.
The committee is certainly aware of the underlying tension. Five months after the final eligible show closed, the nominees were announced on April 29. The list was aesthetically diverse, striking a thoughtful balance between the perceived binary of commercial success and artistic uniqueness: A post-apocalyptic sci-fi epic written by a Japanese playwright shares the spotlight with an avant-garde family-friendly piece, and a renowned rock star’s flamboyant musical will compete against a close-up production featuring internet celebrities. It’s a line-up that not only mirrors the polyphonic state of art-making but also gestures toward how Taiwan might reshape its theatrical landscape.
Looking at the current ecosystem, the Taishin Arts Award, Taiwan’s most significant arts award founded by Taishin Bank Foundation for Arts and Culture, has honored pioneering artworks in visual arts and performing arts for more than two decades. Meanwhile, a cluster of literary awards, which originated from state-run newspaper supplements, appraise new plays on the basis of literary excellence. The Taipei Theatre Awards, on the other hand, are carving out a different path. They are fairly transparent in regard to their desired archetype: the Tony Awards. The social and historical contexts differ greatly, making any direct comparison between the two inadequate—or even futile, but the ambition echoes familiar rhythms: to compete, to celebrate, to bring theatre closer to the public. Indeed, what makes the Taipei Theatre Awards unique is, perhaps, its attempt to be Taiwan’s first major theatrical prize with appeal beyond the industry’s inner circle.
As the Taipei Performing Arts Center picks up its pace for the ceremony held on July 7, skeptics continue to wonder: Will the Taipei Theatre Awards receive the attention that it seeks? Will it be the long-awaited catalyst to expand the theatre scene in Taiwan? Or will it remain a celebratory gesture appreciated only by practitioners? For now, social media reactions during the announcement reflected genuine excitement—many praised the nomination list and welcomed the initiative. The actual impacts may be difficult to assess until a few years later, but one thing is certain: the stage is set, and the audience are waiting in the darkness–waiting for the curtain to rise.
(Yi-Ming Chen is a Taiwanese writer and dramaturg. In 2024, he was awarded the Asian Culture Council Graduate Fellowship. He is part of the Research and Development team at the Prologue Center for New Plays and holds an MFA in Dramaturgy from Columbia University.)
Myan Myan Studio’s Bondage, a nominee for the Independent Spirit Award. Courtesy of Myan Myan Studio. Photo by Yang Yung-yu.
This post was written by the author in their personal capacity.The opinions expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not reflect the view of The Theatre Times, their staff or collaborators.
