In producing an album, it’s not uncommon for the title at release to differ from its working title—or for there to be no title at all during the recording process. The same often applies to curatorial work. For instance, Pink Floyd’s The Dark Side of the Moon was originally titled Eclipse, and only later was the name changed to its now-iconic title. A similar fluidity can be seen in curatorial practice. In her 2011 publication Letter to A Friend, Carolyn Christov-Bakargiev, curator of Documenta 13 in 2012, initially proposed an elaborate title for the exhibition: “The dance was very frenetic, active, rattling, resonating, rolling, twisting, and lasted for a long time.” (Der Tanz war sehr frenetisch, rege, rasselnd, klingend, rollend, verdreht und dauerte eine lange Zeit)5 However, by the time the exhibition opened, its official title had become Collapse and Recovery (Zusammenbruch und Wiederaufbau). This shift in title did not in any way diminish the impact of the exhibition: Documenta 13 was the most-visited edition in the history of the Kassel exhibition. New York curator Jens Hoffmann, in his book Show Time: The 50 Most Influential Exhibitions of Contemporary Art, described it as follows: “Art and the world shared the same stage, thoughtfully choreographed to provide both a provocative challenge and the rare gift of wonder.6 ”
Curatorial themes are not necessarily fixed; much like the title of a music album, they can evolve throughout the creative process to adapt to shifting realities. In the world of performing arts, many festivals begin planning years in advance. A concept that seemed resonant at the time may no longer speak to the world as it is by the time the festival opens, due to unforeseen events or changes in context. Conversely, curating in the performing arts—especially for large-scale urban festivals—is frequently shaped by a range of practical considerations that prevent the curation process from unfolding as freely and imaginatively as curatorial discourse. Yet these very constraints bring the curator closer to the role of a director or choreographer, where limitations often become the catalyst for possibilities and creativity. As renowned music producer Rick Rubin writes in his acclaimed book The Creative Act: A Way of Being: “Whether imposed by design or by necessity, it’s helpful to see limitation as opportunity.7”
Curating as A Framework for the Occurrence of Artistic Events
“There is no theatre which does or did not take place as an event.8” In this sense, curating in the performing arts is the act of constructing a framework that enables events to occur. Each performance or exhibition within an arts festival is an event itself. Brian McMaster, Artistic Director of the Edinburgh International Festival from 1991 to 2006, once said: “A festival creates a situation where people are prepared to take a risk, and go to something that they wouldn’t otherwise think of seeing.9” In curating performance, one must be cautious not to overdetermine these events through excessive interpretation or theoretical framing. Doing so risks flattening the differences between them and neutralizing their nature as an event. The curator’s role, instead, is to preserve the unpredictable singularity of each occurrence, as that is what defines an event.
In July 2022, I was invited by the Cultural Affairs Bureau of the Tainan City Government to serve as the curator of the Tainan Arts Festival for 2023 and 2024. This invitation coincided with the city’s preparations for Tainan 400, the commemoration of the 400th anniversary of the founding of Fort Zeelandia by the Dutch East India Company in 1624, which marked the beginning of Taiwan’s encounter with global maritime powers during the Age of Exploration. Because of the significance of this milestone, the scale and budget of the Tainan Arts Festival in 2023 and 2024 were considerably larger than in previous years. Although the festival is held annually, my curatorial involvement began in 2023 as a way to build momentum leading into the 2024 edition. Founded in 2012, the Tainan Arts Festival focuses on the performing arts. When I first began curating for the 400th anniversary, I didn’t begin with a fixed theme. What I did know, however, was that the festival needed strong local participation, historical research, and ideally, site-specific exhibitions or performance works that extended beyond the theater into the city itself. Curating in the performing arts often requires close negotiation with reality. The teams you hope to invite or the themes you wish to explore may fall afoul of budgetary disagreements, technical limitations of venues, scheduling conflicts.
What I saw in Tainan was a city shaped over centuries by waves of global historical forces. These transnational currents have left traces in its place names, architecture, and urban organization, giving the city’s traditions an international, hybrid character. My intention was to invite artists not only to excavate Taiwan’s layered histories and give voice to untold stories, but also to gesture toward the future. As I continued researching and initiating conversations with artists and collectives, the curatorial landscape began to gradually take shape, emerging not from a predetermined concept, but from a process of dialogue and discovery.
With such a diverse range of curatorial content, finding a theme that could both coherently express this complexity and meaningfully connect to Tainan 400 was no simple task. My instinct was to look to the city’s history for inspiration. One sleepless night, as I was growing increasingly anxious about the curatorial concept, an idea struck me: the Le Moulin Poetry Society, a Tainan-based avant-garde literary group from the 1930s that was profoundly influenced by French Surrealism. In recent years, there had been a documentary and an exhibition dedicated to their legacy. The Le Moulin poets championed Surrealism’s embrace of chance, juxtaposition, and poetic collage, an approach I found resonant with the spirit I hoped to capture. I began to wonder if the curatorial theme could pay homage to this internationally-minded artistic group from Tainan’s own past. The next day, I visited the library and found a two-volume anthology published in 2016 titled LE MOULIN: Society and Times of the Poetry Group. It included a wealth of their poetry and visual works. I picked up the volume Contemplation Ablaze and opened a page at random. There, I encountered Xiuer Lin’s (林修二) poem Sailing, and one line immediately caught my attention: “Dreaming of tomorrow’s harbor.” I had a strong intuitive response: this, I felt, could become the curatorial theme. Tainan was once a major port that played a key role in Taiwan’s maritime history. Under the Treaty of Tientsin in 1880, Anping was designated as one of the treaty ports opened for international trade. Additionally, the art events unfolding throughout the festival could embody the power of dreaming and forward movement. Both the Cultural Affairs Bureau and I agreed that the 2024 Tainan Arts Festival—scheduled from late October to early December—would be the final chapter in the Tainan 400 series of celebrations. As such, it needed to point toward the future, not merely reflect on the past. Bingo! That settled it. However, to emphasize the phrase’s active, aspirational quality and express it as something still in the making I modified it slightly, transforming it into “Harboring Dreams for the Future.” In Taiwanese Hokkien, the phrase also rolls off the tongue beautifully.
Four Modes of Participation in the Production of Publicness