Huang Yi & Kuka: A Dance with the Future
Huang Yi & Kuka, a powerful duet between human and robot, compels us to reflect on our roles in a world increasingly shaped by artificial intelligence — and to consider whether robots might one day achieve sentience.
Sense of Wander: ★★★★☆
TAIPEI, Taiwan — Dance is a romance that draws two people closer together. Studies have shown that through dance, we become more attuned to another person’s brainwaves, fostering greater intimacy. And if dance is a way to communicate emotions with a partner, what happens when that partner is a robot?
Huang Yi, a Taiwanese dancer, explores this intriguing question in his piece Huang Yi & Kuka. In this emotionally charged pas de deux, Huang not only teaches the robot to dance but also relates it to the idea of love. At times, it’s surprising to see how the robot becomes less like a cold machine but a sentient being.
The word “encounter” springs to mind as the performance begins. In near darkness, Arvo Pärt’s Für Alina plays softly in the background. The piano’s cautious notes create an ethereal, almost tiptoeing melody, setting the stage for a unique meeting.
As Huang Yi meets Kuka, their interaction feels both foreign and strangely familiar, as if they are rediscovering each other from past lives. Their movements start to mirror one another. One would think that Kuka is learning from the dancer, but the dancer’s movements appear rather stiff, blurring the line between the line human and non-human.
When Handel’s Sarabande kicks in, Kuka, equipped with a “tentacle” holding a flashlight, starts to dance with Huang. Often, Kuka remains in the shadows, highlighting the dancer’s movements; at times, both are given the spotlight. Despite some distance, the two form a mesmerising duet.
What fascinates me is the session where the music comes to a pause. Huang, illuminated under the spotlight, is seen repeating the same movement, while Kuka remains in the dark. The mechanical hum of Kuka’s artificial muscles and robotic arms grows more pronounced, as if the silence invites us to visualise Kuka’s movements through the darkness. This machinery’s articulation adopts a rhythmic quality, almost resembling its breath.
It’s fascinating how this type of sound, often dismissed as industrial noise, can enhance our perception of the choreography in the absence of visual cues. This auditory experience allows me to feel the choreography in a new, visceral way. It’s also heartwarming to witness the growing intimacy between the dancer and Kuka, their hands touching several times throughout the performance.
My favourite segment of Huang Yi & Kuka revolves around sign language. The dancer faces the audience with Kuka beside him. As Nat King Cole’s When I Fall in Love plays softly in the background, the dancer begins to express the song through sign language.
In the first round, he performs the signs with both hands while Kuka remains still, learning each movement. When the music plays again, the dancer, with his left hand hanging down, uses his right hand — and Kuka’s tentacles as a substitute for the left hand — to dance to the romantic duet. The song’s lyrics seem to echo the deepening connection between the human dancer and the non-human Kuka.
The final session concludes with Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 23 in A Major, K. 488 (Andante). A male and female dancer take the stage, but their movements resemble those of porcelain dolls.
Seated across from each other, the dancers’ bodies are animated by Kuka’s red light beams, which move them like stringed puppets. It’s as if, after all its learning and overcoming limitations, Kuka has evolved to the point where it can teach humans to dance, bringing the performance full circle.
“With the advancement of artificial intelligence, could machines ever teach humans to dance?” This question lingers in my mind long after the performance has concluded.
In fact, in the making of the dance piece Huang Yi & Kuka, Huang faced the challenge of teaching Kuka to dance — a process where a single minute of choreography requires over ten hours of programming.
Throughout the performance, we could see the dancer and Kuka mirror each other’s movements. But as the piece progresses, it becomes evident that human motions start to take on a mechanical quality, while Kuka gradually exhibits more human-like motions.
After 60 minutes of witnessing Kuka’s evolution — from a novice to a dance partner capable of teaching — audiences like me develop a surprising empathy for the robot, to the extent that we might mistake it for a sentient being with emotions.
Huang Yi & Kuka was staged at the NTU University Players Theatre from August 1 to 4, 2024.