ABSTRACT
In a riverside park in Taipei, I heard a small ensemble of musicians playing and singing through a PA system. This was Friday night. I stood there listening in the parking lot for a while until I spotted the site of the performance. Through the amplied speakers, I began hearing the brilliant footsteps of dancing couples, shuing and swiveling deftly in a crowd of over 50 individuals. The dimness of streetlights seemed to obscure the identity of the dancing bodies. Amplied music and dancers’ steps permeated a pastoral soundscape, a space of collective leisure insulated by the river embankment, away from the urban hustle and bustle of the city. I turned on my audio recorder to capture this sonic oasis. A man who saw my recording gear asked, “Is that video? Are you with the news?” I reassured him that I was documenting the sound for the purpose of research. This uneasiness, I found out later, stemmed from a fear of the city policing their unsanctioned use of public land. Recording while retaining the anonymity of the individual participants protected the privacy of participants and their interpersonal dynamics with one another. I gathered the sense that the participants of this community did not want to see themselves in public media representation, digital or analog.
