A week before Stage Time & Wine, the room at the TAF sat open, a yawning white space. It felt impersonal and held the aged emptiness only abandoned buildings can carry. At the front of the room stood a woman; she held a microphone and bore an expression of deep solemnity.
“This space is asleep” she informed us matter-of-factly. “We need to wake it up.”

She opened her mouth and suddenly the entire room seemed to vibrate. For ten minutes everything and everyone was arrested in the sound. A week later I re-entered the space and found it completely transformed. After decades of slumber, the room had sprung back to life, vibrant and energized. Inside, people mingled together under a warm glow. Though they stood next to unfamiliar art pieces, under unfamiliar lights, nothing felt uneasy. The room felt incredibly familiar, like a home full of family members exchanging stories, advice and love. In one corner a group laughed over paper napkins filled with delectable snacks, in another two friends sipped brew from a Ragal, a traditional linked drinking cup, unique to the Paiwan tribe.

At the far back the red rug present at all Red Rooms spread itself across the worn floor, welcoming listeners to sit. Soon, listeners filled the space and their soft chatter fell into a hushed silence. Beneath two orbs stood 巴奈拿 (Ba Nai Na), the same woman from a week earlier, dressed in loose clothes and wearing a gentle manner. Next to her a man with a guitar and colorful garb leaned into the microphone. She and her brother had travelled from Hualien where they lived and created music inspired by their Ami tribe heritage. They had graciously offered to activate the space with this music, to ensure the Red Room’s new home would be just as alive as it’s last one. Adjusting their instruments and picking up a microphone, the two said only this:

“We all want to believe. We all want to be loved. We are sharing our hearts, please be ready to receive it.”

We received many recognizable, friendly voices: Max Power shared his story, Daniel Black his poetry, Lizzy Mew her openness and Daniel O’Shea and Victoria their music. Added to them were new voices, with new stories, music and poetry to be welcomed. Before our very eyes, a new home was created for old and new members alike. One new Red Roomer shared his voice, another his instrument. A third told an encouraging story of acceptance, and inspired us to move forward.

One long time listener, Johnson, stepped forward to tell his story for the first time. He spoke of how Red Room changed his own outlook. Wayguoren, he told us, is the word for foreigner in Chinese. For years he used this apparently innocuous word to refer to his friends from other countries. It wasn’t until he tried to organize his own gathering, inspired by the Red Room, that he came to realize how that wayguoren acted to separate people. “I don’t want to be your Taiwanese friend, or your Asian friend.” He told the audience, “I just want to be your friend”.

So great was our enthusiasm that Jimbo, the MC of the night, requested we show our appreciation in alternative ways. We raised our hands, wiggled our fingers and snapped, showering our performers with quieter appreciation. Our quiet could not be sustained though. Each performance offered a unique experience to the lively room. “That one deserved applause. How can I not clap for that?” a listener commented over animated applause while the MC attempted to quiet the effervescent crowd.

All qualities displayed that night: acceptance, openness, enthusiasm and inspiration are needed for our healthy, thriving community. They are what make a home, not four walls and some concrete.The Red Room was never fixed, was never a room. What makes the Red Room, what it is are the pieces of love, passion and support each member adds. This is how any room can be painted Red.

by Leah List
Editor for the Red Room