Conversation with Nakaw Putun and Etan Pavavalung

Curators of the first Taiwan International Austronesian Art Triennial ‘RamiS’
By Ian Tee

Nakaw Putun and Etan Pavavalung.

Nakaw Putun and Etan Pavavalung.

On the occasion of the inaugural Taiwan International Austronesian Art Triennial (TIAAT), we speak to curators Nakaw Putun and Etan Pavavalug. Centred around the theme ‘RamiS’, an ancient Austronesian word for “root”, the triennial brings together works by 25 artists across a wide geographical reach, from Taiwan to Bali and New Zealand. 

Nakaw, who hails from the Pangcah tribe and village of Makotaay in Hualien, Taiwan, is a director of the Indigenous art platform Wata and a PhD candidate at Tainan National University of the Arts. Her work focuses on contemporary Indigenous art and transitional justice for Indigenous people. Nakaw has curated numerous projects, including ‘Modern You? – Connection and Crossover of a New Generation of Indigenous Art’ (2015), ‘Taiwan East Coast Land Arts Festival’ (2016), ‘Ketagalan Boulevard Arena’ at the Taipei Biennial (2018), and ‘New Perspectives of Hualien Landscape’ (2021), among others.

Etan is an artist, curator, documentary director and an adjunct Assistant Professor in the Department of Indigenous Art Industry at National Kaohsiung Normal University. He is Paiwanese and was born into the Tavadran tribe of Dashe village, in Pingtung County. Etan is committed to the promotion of contemporary Indigenous art and building a context for Indigenous art history. 

In this conversation, Nakaw and Etan unpack the major themes in ‘RamiS’ and their connections with Austronesian history. They also highlight how craft traditions and animist beliefs are valuable ways to connect us with larger ecosystems and inspire a more harmonious coexistence with nature. 

Ali Istanda, ‘After the Flood, There Are Islands’, 2023, woodblock printing, mixed media, 434 x 88cm. Photo by Jing Dean Commercial Photography. Image courtesy of the artist and Taiwan International Austronesian Art Triennial.

Ali Istanda, ‘After the Flood, There Are Islands’, 2023, woodblock printing, mixed media, 434 x 88cm. Photo by Jing Dean Commercial Photography. Image courtesy of the artist and Taiwan International Austronesian Art Triennial.

I hope to establish some context for readers who may not be familiar with Austronesian peoples and languages. What are some helpful terms and context we should know?  

Etan Pavavalung (EP): Based on the research of Robert Blust, a linguistics professor at the University of Hawaii, the ancient Austronesian language family can be divided into four branches: Atayalic, Tsouic, Paiwanic, and Extra-Formosan. Three of them are still spoken in Taiwan, which shows Taiwan’s significance to the study of the history of the Austronesian languages. According to Australian archaeologist Bellwood, 5,000 years ago, the Austronesian languages spread from Taiwan to the south, east and west. The Austronesians first entered the Philippines, then continued to Malaysia and Indonesia, westward to Madagascar in Africa, and eastward to Melanesia, Micronesia, and Polynesia in South America.

Nakaw Putun (NP): In recent years, many Pacific Island nations and Austronesian people groups have begun to call Taiwan their “Mother Island”. Archaeologist Peter Bellwood and linguist Robert Blust proposed the ‘Out of Taiwan’ hypothesis, the theory that all Austronesian people groups originated from Taiwan. 

Through ethnobotanical research on the genes of paper mulberry trees, Taiwanese botanist Chung Kuo-fang has found evidence for the ‘Out of Taiwan’ hypothesis, that Taiwan is the RamiS (an ancient Austronesian word for “root”) of all Austronesian-speaking peoples. There are cognates for the word RamiS in many Austronesian languages, such as “rami” in Pinuyumayan, “ramisi” in Rukai, “lamis” in Bunun, “lamit” in Amis and Sakizaya, and “gamil” in Atayal and Truku. The word’s meaning can be extended metaphorically to refer to the “root of life.” RamiS is also the theme of the exhibition.

EP: In addition, the paper mulberry tree, commonly seen in Taiwan, is not only significant to Austronesian culture but is also a keystone species in botany, anthropology, and history. Austronesian people have long used the paper mulberry to craft practical bark cloth by pounding its bark, a symbol with significant cultural meaning in the Oceanic archipelago.

As the co-curator of the first edition of TIAAT, what are the goals/ aspirations you have in taking on this project? 

NP: I want TIAAT to show the world the richness and diversity of Austronesian culture, find unique Austronesian art forms, and present the overflowing energy in contemporary Austronesian art.  I also hope the event can be a catalyst for helping Austronesian areas reconnect, arousing greater concern from the world about contemporary issues of Indigenous people, and inspiring joint reflection on the future of humanity.

EP: In curating the exhibition, I try to convey the images of fluidity, navigation, and dissemination through artists’ work, and to state that the past is the future. This echoes the ‘Out of Taiwan’ hypothesis about Austronesian origins, and corresponds with the history of Austronesian migration. Taiwan has always been a vibrant island, rich in diverse qualities in geography, species, and culture. Facing the Pacific Ocean, we are not alone on this island in the sea; we exist in a web of interrelations, each thread imbuing our unique characteristics and vitality.

Taiwan has always been a vibrant island, rich in diverse qualities in geography, species, and culture. Facing the Pacific Ocean, we are not alone on this island in the sea; we exist in a web of interrelations, each thread imbuing our unique characteristics and vitality.
Ljailjai Tult, ‘i tjaivililj (Our Future Tense)’, exhibition view. Photo by Jing Dean Commercial Photography. Image courtesy of the artist and Taiwan International Austronesian Art Triennial.

Ljailjai Tult, ‘i tjaivililj (Our Future Tense)’, exhibition view. Photo by Jing Dean Commercial Photography. Image courtesy of the artist and Taiwan International Austronesian Art Triennial.

How does the TIAAT unfold across the Taiwan Indigenous Culture Park?

EP: Over the past 36 years, the Taiwan Indigenous Culture Park has become an important gathering point for tangible and intangible cultural assets of Taiwan's Indigenous peoples. The inaugural TIAAT is roughly divided into three main exhibition areas. The Octagonal Special Display Hall provides an introduction to the Triennial, participating artists and the discourses we hope to engage with. Nakaw’s section in the Artefact Display Room presents works by 11 artists under the sub-theme ‘Becoming Spiritual’. I have curated the third section at the Lifestyle Exhibition Hall under the sub-theme ‘Why We Are Us’, using "我们" (meaning “we, our, us” in Mandarin) as the axis to connect the works by 14 artists.

Chee Wai Loong, “Homesick”, 2023, mixed media, 900 x 900 x 500cm. Photo by Jing Dean Commercial Photography. Image courtesy of the artist and Taiwan International Austronesian Art Triennial.

Chee Wai Loong, “Homesick”, 2023, mixed media, 900 x 900 x 500cm. Photo by Jing Dean Commercial Photography. Image courtesy of the artist and Taiwan International Austronesian Art Triennial.

Wu, Yu-Ling (Aluaiy kaumakan), ‘Cevulj, Path of a Family’, 2023, fibres, mud-dye cloth, charcoal, ash, dimensions variable. Photo by Jing Dean Commercial Photography. Image courtesy of the artist and Taiwan International Austronesian Art Triennial.

Wu, Yu-Ling (Aluaiy kaumakan), ‘Cevulj, Path of a Family’, 2023, fibres, mud-dye cloth, charcoal, ash, dimensions variable. Photo by Jing Dean Commercial Photography. Image courtesy of the artist and Taiwan International Austronesian Art Triennial.

Could you highlight a few site-specific works that respond to the architectural or natural elements in the exhibition space?

EP: I think that every artist's work echoes the architectural space and the natural environment. However, I would like to introduce a large-scale installation in the outdoor Performance Hall (kakataliduan). Malaysian artist Chee Wai Loong’s piece ‘Homesick’ positions the ocean as its central motif. Using the lighthouse as a symbol, the artist situates a traditional Malay stage house in the centre of the sea, its rooftop adorned by a cultural Malaysian kite. Through the drifting forms, the sound waves, and the play of light and shadow of the work, the artist hopes to facilitate a destined reunion between the Austronesian ancestors and the “us” of today. It also aims to provide those who are abroad with a beacon to find their way back to the home they long for. 

Thousands of years ago, the Austronesian people spread from Taiwan across the ocean to the islands of Southeast Asia. The sea carried language, culture, and seeds to other islands worldwide; in essence, connecting us all. This maritime connection transcends distance, time, and space, uniting the hearts of “us” in a single, collective experience. The positioning of the work allows a clear view of the Ailiao River below, a significant local waterway that flows into the sea in the west. This resonates with Chee’s work, the idea of tracing back to one’s origins, and finding one’s true home within.

NP: Wu Yu-ling’s (Aluaiy Kaumakan) ‘Cevulj, Path of a Family’ is displayed in an area with a vaulted ceiling and a spiral staircase. The installation makes clever use of the space, as the large woven piece wraps around the second floor and cascades downward. By climbing the staircase, the viewer follows in the path taken by the artist, who was inspired to create the piece after scaling a mountain to her old community. One can see many details in the rubbings that were done over a span of ten years. 

The different parts of Iyo Kacaw’s ‘Between You and Me’ are fixed atop three pieces of root from withered trees. Even when a tree is cut down or has naturally fallen and become driftwood, it still has a vitality that can be integrated into human life as a boat, oar, fishing net spindle, spear, window frame, beam, or artwork. ‘Between You and Me’ speaks to how history, culture, and the lives of all things are interwoven and continue to have new relationships.

Iyo kacaw, ‘Between You and Me’, 2023, wood, dimensions variable. Photo by Jing Dean Commercial Photography. Image courtesy of the artist and Taiwan International Austronesian Art Triennial.

Iyo kacaw, ‘Between You and Me’, 2023, wood, dimensions variable. Photo by Jing Dean Commercial Photography. Image courtesy of the artist and Taiwan International Austronesian Art Triennial.

Etan, you wrote about the notion of Austronesian “Lima Aesthetics” and its emancipatory potential in your exhibition essay. How do you define/ describe “Lima Aesthetics”?

EP: In Austronesian languages, the word "lima" mostly means the number "five" and "hand". Taiwan's Indigenous Paiwan people call those with craftsmanship “pulima”, meaning they have skilled hands that can make delicate and beautiful ornaments. A pulima is usually respected in the tribe for their ability to carve fine patterns, shape perfect hunting or agricultural tools, weave delicate utensils, and embroider exquisite clothing. Traditionally, pulimas played the role of bringing out visual aesthetics. A male pulima would create large ancestral statues used in architecture and rituals, or small sculptural ornaments such as pestles and spoons. Meanwhile, a female pulima would weave straw mats, bamboo baskets, clothing embroidery, headdresses, garlands, etc. 

Until modern times, humans seem to have not stopped exploring the connotation and definition of beauty. The Austronesian people also give beauty a high status and value. As for "Lima Aesthetics", I would define the term to mean the way in which the lima (hand) work of tribal people with aesthetic energy releases surprising shapes and visual texture patterns for people to install, decorate, view, and share. Thus, this also creates resonance, reflection, or heartfelt smiles in the space of interaction between people and their environments. 

Through the issues explored in their works, the exhibiting artists also speak to how artisan families are caught between the functional and cultural values of tradition and modernity. These artworks encapsulate the historical circumstances and challenges faced, and simultaneously imprints the functionality and value of pulima in Austronesian artistic thought.

Yuma Taru, ‘Sea・Rise’ and ‘River・Flow’, 2023, exhibition view. Photo by Jing Dean Commercial Photography. Image courtesy of the artist and Taiwan International Austronesian Art Triennial.

Yuma Taru, ‘Sea・Rise’ and ‘River・Flow’, 2023, exhibition view. Photo by Jing Dean Commercial Photography. Image courtesy of the artist and Taiwan International Austronesian Art Triennial.

Lin, Gieh-Wen (Labay Eyong), ‘Milk and Tear Trails’, 2023, recycled rebar, 6mm round bar, fibres, dimensions variable. Photo by Jing Dean Commercial Photography. Image courtesy of the artist and Taiwan International Austronesian Art Triennial.

Lin, Gieh-Wen (Labay Eyong), ‘Milk and Tear Trails’, 2023, recycled rebar, 6mm round bar, fibres, dimensions variable. Photo by Jing Dean Commercial Photography. Image courtesy of the artist and Taiwan International Austronesian Art Triennial.

On a related note, weaving is a theme that runs across a few of the works, such as those by Labay Eyong, Milay Mavaliw, and Yuma Taru, amongst others. Could you talk about the significance of weaving as a strategy and a traditional craft in the exhibition?

EP: The Austronesian people have woven an eternal and special living vocabulary through their "mind" and "hands", forming unique visual cultural assets over the past thousand years. In addition to carving and embroidery, these cultural products, such as knitting, weaving, wrapping, and twisting, also provide the people with an aesthetic sense of life. Today, Indigenous artists still emphasise the use of eco-friendly materials, and value the creations extended by traditional handicraft skills. In the context of a contemporary exhibition space, not only is weaving’s association with Austronesian art strengthened, but it also addresses issues of sustainability in material culture.

For example, the artist Yuma Taru combines diverse materials such as ramie threads, wool yarn, stainless steel enamel-coated wire, metallic threads, wooden boards, etc., in her installation art. This presentation reflects the artist's keen observation of the ever-changing nature, and her profound awe and lament for the mountainous and aquatic regions, the origins of life.

NP: From a young age, Wu Yu-ling (Aluaiy Kaumakan) was exposed to the work of making exquisite traditional clothing and accessories. By chance, she was able to learn binding from a designer. Since then, she has made art through binding, weaving, and beading, producing a unique vocabulary that combines the traditional and the contemporary. 

Similarly, the springboard for the piece by Lin Gieh-wen (Labay Eyong) was her grandmother’s cloth-filled wardrobe, which touched her so deeply that she began weaving. Since acquiring the skill, her passion for it has only grown. According to the artist, weaving is a language in which the weaver speaks through the quietest of forms, which is counterintuitive to our mainstream values. In this first edition of TIAAT, through weaving, we are embarking on a new search for shared experiences among Austronesian people.

Weaving is a language in which the weaver speaks through the quietest of forms, which is counterintuitive to our mainstream values.
Kulele Ruladen, ‘Forms of Ancestral Spirits’, 2023, iron elements, dynamical machine, mixed media, dimensions variable. Photo by Jing Dean Commercial Photography. Image courtesy of the artist and Taiwan International Austronesian Art Triennial.

Kulele Ruladen, ‘Forms of Ancestral Spirits’, 2023, iron elements, dynamical machine, mixed media, dimensions variable. Photo by Jing Dean Commercial Photography. Image courtesy of the artist and Taiwan International Austronesian Art Triennial.

Nakaw, in your essay, you wrote about animism as a lens to consider the relationship between humanity and the Earth. Could you elaborate on how this framework intersects with the key issues of our time?

NP: Most Austronesian speaking peoples are traditionally animist, that is, they believe all things in the world (mountains, water, plants, animals, humans, etc.) have spirits. There is a tight bond among humans, nature, the ancestral spirits, and divinities. Thus, Austronesian people worship nature and revere the spirits to maintain harmonious coexistence. Indigenous people’s animistic beliefs are manifested in their daily activities, such as hunting, gathering, farming, music, dance, weaving, pottery-making, and travelling, as is their reverence for all kinds of life regardless of species, race, or gender. 

For instance, before going into the mountains, ocean, or rivers, hunters must first worship the god of the respective domain and maintain a reverent attitude. Hunters have keen senses and understand information from animals, such as animal calls made to form groups, mate, or notify others of having been caught in a trap. Hunters only take what they need and maintain a mindset of appreciation. Furthermore, they believe all things have spirits, so they survey the hunting environment from the perspective of animals and are able to respond to any changes immediately. This shows that hunters, the mountains, the ocean, and all other life forms rely on each other and work together to maintain balance in the ecosystem. 

The animist concept in ‘Becoming Spiritual’ looks to awaken that deep-rooted link between humans and all other things, in turn restoring the relationship between humanity and the environment. Perhaps this is a mindset that will help humanity break past the current dilemma and achieve a sustainable future.

This interview has been edited, and is presented in partnership with Taiwan International Austronesian Art Triennial (TIAAT).

The first TIAAT is happening from 17 October 2023 to 18 February 2024, at Taiwan Indigenous Culture Park, Pintung County, Taiwan. 

Read more in our ‘Beyond Southeast Asia’ series here. 

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