PUSH AND PULL

The Coronet Theatre

★★★★★

“Built from deceptively simple elements, it unfolds with ingenuity and emotional depth”

A table moves almost imperceptibly across the stage. A lamp filled with water glows softly in the dim light. Seated alone, a man remains still, as if caught between thought and action. With this simple yet hypnotic image, Hung Dance’s Push and Pull immediately establishes an atmosphere of quiet tension.

Created and directed by Lai Hung-chung, the work unfolds as a visually striking duet performed by Lu Ying-chieh and Lee Kuan-ling. The piece explores the delicate balance between resistance and surrender, using the physical principle of push and pull as both movement language and emotional metaphor.

What initially appears to be a sparse stage slowly reveals itself as a cleverly modular set. Tables shift, separate and reassemble, transforming the space in subtle yet surprising ways. Beneath one of these moving structures, Lu Ying-chieh gradually emerges, initially resisting the pull to leave the table.

The visual world of the piece is particularly striking. The lighting and costume concept by Lai Hung-chung works in close dialogue with the stage design, while lighting designer Tsai Chao-yu shapes the atmosphere with remarkable precision. What makes Push and Pull particularly compelling is how multi-layered it feels despite its minimalism. With only a few objects, subtle lighting shifts and two performers, the production creates a constantly evolving landscape of images.

The choreography itself draws inspiration from physical principles of force and balance, as well as philosophical ideas rooted in East Asian movement traditions such as Tai Chi. Push and pull becomes both a literal physical action and an emotional state. Bodies lean into each other, resist, yield and rebalance in a continuous negotiation of weight and trust.

At first, the push and pull seems internal. The dancers move as if navigating their own thoughts, their bodies reflecting moments of hesitation, resistance and release. Gradually, however, the dynamic evolves into something relational. What begins as an internal struggle transforms into an encounter between two individuals negotiating closeness, control and vulnerability. Who is in control? Who leads and who follows? Who becomes who? The choreography leaves these questions deliberately unresolved, inviting us to reflect on the fragile balance between intimacy and autonomy.

The performers’ physical control is extraordinary. Their bodies move with remarkable plasticity, shifting between grounded tension and fluid softness. At times Lu Ying-chieh appears almost boneless, flowing through space with a delicacy that feels impossible to define, like a feather drifting slowly through thick honey.

Sound also plays a crucial role. The score by Kuo Yu blends breath, natural textures and subtle musical pulses, creating a soundscape that feels almost organic. Rather than dictating the movement, it breathes alongside it, reinforcing the intimate dialogue between the dancers. Their movements unfold with a rare sense of attentiveness, raising a quiet question: how often do we allow ourselves to sit in vulnerability and truly listen to another person?

While the work centres on human relationships, its push-and-pull dynamics can also be read as echoing wider tensions within Taiwan’s cultural landscape. The choreography’s tension between closeness and distance, resistance and yielding echoes this ongoing search for balance.

Importantly, the piece resists offering a clear resolution. The push and pull never fully settles into harmony. Instead, the work suggests that coexistence may lie in the ability to maintain both connection and independence. Observing, listening and allowing space for another can be just as meaningful as unity.

With its haunting imagery, intelligent choreography and elegantly restrained design, Push and Pull reveals itself as a remarkably multi-layered work. Built from deceptively simple elements, it unfolds with ingenuity and emotional depth, creating a series of images that linger long after the performance ends. It is a quietly powerful masterpiece, a meditation on balance, intimacy and resistance that continues to resonate beyond the stage.

PUSH AND PULL

The Coronet Theatre

Reviewed on 12th March 2026

by Nasia Ntalla

Photography by LIU Ren-haur

PUSH AND PULL

★★★★

“a compelling evening”

Is Peer Gynt a play or a poem? When Henrik Ibsen first published his five-act verse drama, Peer Gynt attracted widespread criticism from contemporary figures for its complete disregard of conventional stagecraft and its blend of fantasy and realism. Defending his work, particularly from the hostility of theatre critic Clemens Petersen, Ibsen declared that it ‘is poetry; and if it isn’t, it will become such’.

In the hands of Kåre Conradi, there can be no doubt. He breaks a few conventions himself in his rendition of Peer Gynt’s story, delivering it partly as narrative, partly as lecture, partly in English and partly in his native Norwegian. But what starts as a gentle folk tale of everyday life and the journey of a worthless nobody – albeit with a gift for seducing women – turns into a tense saga that at its heart addresses the eternal question of being and self.

Conradi is something of a polymath in the dramatic world. He is a celebrated stage, screen and television actor, and the founder and artistic director of the Norwegian Ibsen Company. A graduate of the Norwegian Theatre Academy and the London Academy of Music and Dramatic Art (LAMDA), he is familiar with Shakespeare as much as Ibsen. He appeared in the TV series Shetland, and stars in the historical comedy Norsemen, on Netflix. For this evening, he took on the roles of producer, writer/adapter and performer.

Peer Gynt the person is hard to like. He is feckless and reckless. He is an egotist with charm and ambition, but doesn’t want to work hard. He uses women in a way that might have them joining them “MeToo” movement these days. He abandons his poor mother and runs away to, notably, Arabia, when life gets a bit too hot for him in Norway. When he returns as an old man, he finally comes face to face with himself in a fantasy during which he is being brought to account for his life. But through all this, he has retained the adoration of the long suffering Solveig. It is she in the end who answers the questions of self and rescues him from eternal perdition.

But he is also an ‘Everyman’ in whom we might see reflections of ourselves. Conradi first encountered Peer Gynt aged 17 and over the years has developed a deep connection to the character. He brings him to us in a monologue on a simple spotlit stage lasting just over an hour. During this time he switches effortlessly from storyteller to actor; sometimes, in the latter persona passionately proclaiming his justification for just ‘being himself’; sometimes skilfully lacing together the characters of the story. Then, as narrator, he will make a humorous aside aimed at a 21st century audience. He avoids declamation (at one moment he catches himself overacting) and he drops suddenly into a linguistic to and fro – often, it was hard to tell whether he was talking in English or Norwegian.

What began as – potentially – a challenging hour, soon became a compelling evening, thanks to Conradi’s gifts. This was a bravura performance, with poetry at its core.

Tag Archives: The Coronet Theatre

PUSH AND PULL

★★★★★

The Coronet Theatre

PUSH AND PULL

The Coronet Theatre

★★★★★

“Built from deceptively simple elements, it unfolds with ingenuity and emotional depth”