July and August aren’t just the months that students look forward to for summer break every year, the hot season is also a lively time when the Amis celebrate the harvest in the Hualian and Taidong areas. In the past we were mostly unfamiliar with aborigine culture, and perhaps don’t know that August 9 was set by the United Nations as World Indigenous Day, or that August 1 is recognized by Taiwan as Indigenous Day, or not knowing that from this year on our indigenous friends’ annual rituals will be the equivalent of national holidays so our Amis friends—on the day of their tribal harvest festival—can, as a matter of course, ask for leave to return home, and our friends the Saisiat can return to their homelands during the paSta’ay festival of spirits, not having to worry about gaining approval from or being criticized by their boss. Everything that happens within these tribes manifests the use of a diverse array of methods to allow us to better understand their culture.

In the Taidong area, the Taiwan National Museum of Prehistory—which has been a long time promoter of the performers of tribal culture heritages—will launch “Form, Color, Pattern, and Texture: A microscopic journey through the living aesthetics of Taiwan’s indigenous peoples” starting at the end of July and going until February of next year (http://special.nmp.gov.tw/2011color/). The hope is to treat form, color, pattern, and texture as the basic elements of the aesthetics of Taiwan’s indigenous peoples, from driftwood, bamboo hampers as light covers, wall decorations made from tree bark, and clocks made from hundred-pace snakes (Chinese moccasin, Deinagkistrodon acutus), etc. It is further hoped that through creatively using the simple and original elements of traditional decorations, a refined sense of reality will be created apart from that of the diamond shaped patterns of many other aboriginal totems and the stereo-typical impressions given by decorations of the hundred-pace snake, thus granting the public a fresh perspective and a new understanding of aboriginal culture.

When we think of aboriginal culture, we often focus on the totems of ethnic history and of myths and legends. When the Miao worship the cow, remember that they are descendants of Chi You, so the large silver headdress of the Miao women in Guizhou was originally the horn shape of a cow from her ancestor Chi You. The Taroko tribe—from Taiwan—has a diamond pattern that represents the eyes of ancestral spirits. For the Paiwanese, the hundred-pace snake represents ancestors and aristocracy. The Tao people, residents of Orchid Island, use a fish-eye pattern, a wave pattern, and a humanoid pattern of warrior symbols and family crests on their boats. The change and use of these patterns of the Tao are very commonly seen on buildings, boats, appliances, and ritual utensils.

 
A totem decoration from the Tao

The story of these totems, and our unfamiliarity and stereotyping of aboriginal culture, leads to people thinking that if there is no totem on the aboriginal artifacts, there isn’t a representative symbol on them and they lack flavor. But Rahic Talifo of the Amis—from Gangkou village, Hualien—brought up a contrasting view: “Indigenous people need not explicitly show that they are indigenous peoples, or make symbols on their artifacts just for the sake of making symbols.” In the Hualian and Taidong regions, Talifo’s driftwood creations—because the pieces “do not look aboriginal”—have been returned by the contest organizer; but in this rapidly changing society, what should aboriginal art look like? How can one not fall into formality when finding the best representation of the spirit of Amis culture? Talifo used his own experiences to force himself, aboriginal artists, and the public at large to think: “In this so-called respect of diversity, is there still a rigid stereotyping lurking somewhere?” Talifo’s answer is ultimately seen in his work, letting him pioneer a new style of abstract wooden shapes that he calls aboriginal art; he has had an important influence on many of those in the younger generation of aboriginal artists.

The Driftwood Creations of Rahic Talifo

Image Source: Form, Color, Pattern, Texture: A microscopic journey through the living aesthetics of Taiwan’s indigenous peoples.

The ways in which culture can be expressed are many. Talifo, who is Amis, attempts to escape the status-quo of the creation and shape of original totems; the Sakizaya, because they have no totems, attempt to inherit their tribal history in the implicit meanings of the clothes they wear, reminding future generations to not forget the hardships of their predecessors. In Taiwan, the Sakizaya was only recognized as the 13th aborigine tribe in 2007. Their ancestors were forced to leave their homes, thus sadly losing a large part of their ethnic culture. In order to commemorate the past and the story of the ancestors of the Sakizaya, their clothes are designed with integrated tribal colors. The primary colors on the clothes of the Sakizaya are a blood color and the color of the soil; the dark red symbolizes the coagulated blood of their ancestors, when, in1878, they were killed in battle. The color of the soil commemorates the earth patriarchs Votoc and Savak, which means “ancestors that came from the earth”. The accompanying green is the symbol of the tribe’s wall (made of bamboo), and the blue is to commemorate the support and affection of the Amis for the last hundred years. Yuma Taru of the Atayal said, “Every ethnicity has its own color, its own cloth with form, color, pattern, and texture weaved into it, implicit in their unique ethnic styles.” The Sakizaya have passed on the ethnic history and stories of their cultural art, allowing us to understand that color is not just for looks, but contains a long and rich cultural heritage, a collective memory of the emotions of ordinary people.

The tribal clothes of the Sakizaya

In saying these touching words, Yuma has a touching story herself: she grew up in a family with an out-of-province father and his Atayal mother. While young, there were a lot of domestic troubles. These led Yuma’s mother to want her to pass a normal Han life, even become Han Chinese, and not come back to the tribe. Yuma, having just graduated from college, was admitted to the local Taichung County Cultural Center’s Weave Craft Museum according to her parents’ wishes, as a civil service employee with a stable job. However, by this time Yuma had decided that this wasn’t the direction she wanted for her life and returned to the tribe, weaving traditional Atayal pieces, even being admitted into the Institute of Weaving of Fu-jen Catholic University where studied specialized weaving skills. She also conducted in-depth field examinations of more than 200 Atayal villages, from planting ramie, hemp stripping and scraping, hemp plots, twisting, dyeing, warping, weaving, and other complicated weaving techniques, starting from scratch and crossing the culture gap. Yuma, who had established the Mallotus Workshop by this time, believed that her workshop’s purpose was not to pursue the development of goods on the market, but rather hoped to provide the women of the tribe who were weavers with a job, allowing them to regain their consciousness and confidence as Atayal women. She also hoped that through the workshop the elements and characteristics of Atayal weaving would be preserved for future generations, leaving authentic memories of the nature of their homeland, ancestors, and culture.

Our aborigine friends attract our attention because they, from their own ancient mothers, gave birth to our different characteristics. Culture need not only be born, though; how to continue the development of it is also very important.

Suming, who won the 22nd Golden Melody Award for best pop album in an aboriginal language, incorporates electronic music, traditional singing, and ethnic rock characteristics into his award-winning album in an attempt to energize and enliven his mother language. Viewed from the point of view of trying to defend traditional conservative values, this type of method may result in the loss of traditional culture, but Suming says, “Although we are an indigenous people, we are not primitive; we live in the moment and need to act like we live in the moment.” Suming’s success and charm lie in the fact that he tries to reflect the contemporary realities of the lives of Amis and Dulan youth through music. How to “Live Life in the Moment” has become an important philosophy of life for contemporary aborigines. Regardless of the beauty of this moving story, the future will be about how to develop; we can be sure that, as long as culture is brought back into our lives it will not be lost.

Suming’s Award Winning Album

Image Source: Suming’s official website