Bridging Tradition and Modernity: Conversations on Identity and Innovation in the Arts

The first panel discussion of the 2024 AAPPAC, "Continuous Innovation in the Arts: Keeping Tradition Fresh," addresses an everlasting question in the performing arts. As moderator Chun-Yen Wang remarked in the very first beginning, “We don’t have the ability to solve any problems in a 70-minute discussion, but gatherings like this give us the opportunity to reflect more deeply on how we respond to this possibility in tradition and modernity.”

To begin the discussion, Wang introduced the two distinguished panelists: Jian-Hong Kuo, Artistic Director of The Theatre Practice, and Bulareyaung Pagarlava, founder of Bulareyaung Dance Company. The Theatre Practice, now 59 years old, has witnessed key moments in history, from the founding of the Republic of Singapore to the Cold War, globalization, and the rise of the Asia-Pacific performing arts network. The company was founded by Pao-Kun Kuo and Lay-Kuan Goh, parents of panelist Kuo. Both of them have a splendid legacy in theater, leaving The Theatre Practice with valuable assets and unresolved challenges.

This morning’s opening performance was choreographed by Bulareyaung Pagarlava, who’s from the Indigenous Paiwan tribe in Taitung. His company, the Bulareyaung Dance Company, was established in 2015, and despite its youth, has earned two prestigious awards in Taiwan: the Performing Arts Award and the Grand Prize, both from the Taishin Arts Awards. Bulareyaung’s journey as a dancer and choreographer has been shaped by the influences of Hwai-Min Lin, Man-fei Lo, and Ross Parkes. These influences have permeated Taiwan’s dance scene, leading to today’s discussion: tradition and modernity are not in binary opposition. While the conference theme is "Mind the Gap", Wang noted that he would like to explore the possibilities between tradition and modernity, rather than merely focusing on the idea of a gap between them.

The Theatre Practice, a bilingual professional theater company with the longest history in Singapore, was first founded as a performing arts school, which explains why fostering talent is ingrained in their DNA. To date, The Theatre Practice has produced around 400 works, including musicals, theater classics, online theater, experimental theater, and family productions. Currently, there are about 20 full-time members in the company.

In order to answer the question "What is tradition?" Kuo first raised another question: "Who am I?" She began by introducing her family history. Kuo's parents were immigrants who moved to Singapore with their families. At that time, Singapore was still a British colony and part of Malaysia. After they studied in Australia and returned to Singapore in 1965, they founded the Practice Performing Arts School. The school offered training in dance, theater, and music, allowing students to apply their skills in real-world performances. Since the 19th century, under British rule, Singapore had been divided into four ethnic groups: Chinese, Malays, Indians, and others (CMIO). However, Kuo emphasized that the complexity of the ethnic population goes beyond these four categories, as it was a political decision to manage potential conflicts among ethnic groups.

Kuo then reflected on her father’s theatrical works. First is White Boat (1982), which was written entirely in Standard Chinese with a Western realistic aesthetic. In Kopitiam (1986), a mix of Chinese dialects and Singaporean accents were used. The Coffin is Too Big for the Hole (1985), a solo piece, was written in both English and Chinese. Mama Looking For Her Cat was the first multilingual play in Singapore, and Descendants of the Eunuch Admiral (1995) featured no characters or scenes, resembling more of a prose piece. In the 40 years of the creative process, her father explored different languages and forms of art to express both his own voice and the collective identity of Singaporeans.

Quoting her father's article on the uniqueness of performing arts in Singapore, Kuo explained that immigrants often experienced a longing for their cultural roots, making them feel like "cultural orphans." At the same time, they were surrounded by other cultures that could blend with their lives in one moment and diverge in another, creating a "borderline mindset.” This orphan complex and borderline mindset, Kuo noted, are dominant traits in Singapore’s art scene. Singaporean artists inherited incomplete cultures from their homelands while being immersed in Western culture. As a result, they continue to explore their ways in this ambiguous identity.

Kuo further shared that the first language for most children in Singapore is English, while their second language is based on their ethnic group. She then quoted another of her father’s writings on the concept of open culture: "The real concern for open culture is not whether one must first study one's own natural-racial language, but whether one is deeply rooted in any culture. If being cut off from their former parent cultures have made them cultural orphans, multicultural realism gave them an orphanage. But this can only be a temporary shelter. Open culture proposes that they should now use the orphanage to start creating a new cultural heritage for themselves.”

Following this, Kuo introduced a few recent works from The Theatre Practice, including The Bride Always Knocks Twice — Killer Secrets (2021), an online theater piece with live streaming; Four Horse Road (2020), an immersive promenade theater; and All The World's A Sea (2024), inspired by the Buddhist philosophy of Ayatana (the six senses).

To conclude, Kuo quoted her father once more, stating that the orphan complex and borderline mindset are double-edged swords. When used well, this openness allows Singaporeans to absorb the best from global cultures. However, if not, Singapore risks becoming merely an international arts hub or service agent.

Moderator Wang then responded that tradition must always be considered within context. He shared an example of how traditional opera today is a living experience, for it continuously interacts with contemporary audiences. Before handing the mic to Bulareyaung, he suggested a broader re-examination of tradition in different contexts, including the “gap”: ”Upon the gap we imagine between tradition and modernity, there may be many bridges, ships or highways already." 

Beginning his sharing, Bulareyaung admitted he felt even more nervous than Kuo, as he did not know his own origins. Although he was born in the tribe, in the 1970s, due to the Mandarin monolingual policy, his parents didn’t speak Pinayuanan, the language of the Paiwan tribe, to him, and traditional tribal rituals were not allowed. Pursuing his goal of becoming a dancer, he trained in ballet, contemporary dance, and even Chinese dance. It wasn’t until he began choreographing that he asked himself, "Who am I? Where do I come from?" From that moment on, he realized that he lacked nourishment from his roots. When he founded the Bulareyaung Dance Company in 2015, he returned to his hometown Taitung, learning traditional songs with his dancers. It was through this creative process that he began reconnecting with Indigenous culture in Taiwan.

To illustrate his journey back to his roots, Bulareyaung shared several pieces created over the past nine years. The first was Qaciliay (2021). When he returned to the Jialan tribe in Taitung in 2000, it was a time when Taiwan's Indigenous groups were re-establishing their traditions and cultures. He witnessed the younger generation holding hands, dancing, and singing traditional songs in ritual. Moved to tears, Bulareyaung felt a deep envy for their connection, wishing he had grown up in a similar environment. 

Back in the rehearsal room, he instructed his dancers to hold hands and sing the song they had learned in the tribe. "Sing that song repeatedly until it’s in your bones," he told them. After 30 minutes, the dancers were exhausted, and he encouraged them to follow their awareness and sense their bodies' responses, all while never letting go of each other's hands. When one dancer collapsed from exhaustion while still holding hands, Bulareyaung saw a picture. He then choreographed duets, trios, and quartets with dancers holding hands. On the night before the premiere at the National Theatre, he told the dancers to go back to that first rehearsal experience: "Hold hands and see how far we can go. When you're tired, sing loudly. When you feel like you can't go on, there are others holding your hands."

The second work he shared was Luna (2018), commissioned by the National Taichung Theater. Bulareyaung and his dancers traveled deep into the mountains of central Taiwan, learning songs from the Luluna village of the Bunun tribe in Nantou. In Bunun culture, the "exploit-boasting" act is a classic chant, where ancient hunters would sing of their accomplishments. With permission from the elder, the dancers reinterpreted this chant, telling their own stories rather than recounting hunts, as lying is forbidden in the tradition. This allowed the dancers to connect with Bunun culture in an authentic way.

The next piece, Not Afraid of the Sun and Rain (2021), was inspired by Pakarongay, an Amis training system for youth to be recognized as adults. The dancers trained alongside Amis teenagers, learning skills like fishing, diving, and hunting, as well as the most important element: songs. This led Bulareyaung to reflect on the responsibility of elders, asking, "What kind of men are we training our juniors to become?" Even in the midst of training, he emphasized that one must not lose their true spirit. Thus in this work, one dancer performed in high heels to highlight this tension.

The final piece he discussed was tiaen tiamen Episode 1 (2023), in which Bulareyaung forced himself to examine his own tribal identity. In Paiwan culture, there are three stages of life: pulima, meaning "hands," for those aged 15–35; puqulu, meaning "brain," for those aged 35–60; and puvarung, meaning "heart," for those over 60. As the first part of Paiwan Trilogy, tiaen tiamen Episode 1 first started off with hands of youth.

To sum up, Bulareyaung shared that founding his dance company was his way of rediscovering his identity as a Paiwanese. Through this journey, he also learned about the 16 different Indigenous groups in Taiwan, with over 700 tribes. He felt lucky probably because he's lost so much. But with the holding hands and the dance company, he'd like to share with everyone the beauty of Indigenous people in Taiwan.

What’s interesting to Wang is that modernity is often portrayed as one single and fixed image and that modernity is often seen as something European or tied to text-based drama, but there are multiple modernities. Every resource contributes to defining the present moment, and when something is lacking, it’s time to redefine that. He noted that all traditional resources offer us a way to understand a more diverse modernity. In response, Kuo said that tradition is a form of wisdom that constantly engages in dialogue with us. Wang added that while the act of holding hands in Bulareyaung's work comes from Indigenous culture,  it does not only respond to the Indigenous identity issue, which is why it resonates so deeply with audiences.

During the Q&A session, one audience member asked the panelists, "What is your identity now?" and "How do you define yourself when engaging with the international community in Asia?" Kuo answered that she doesn’t often think about these questions."It’s hard to say who I am," she said. "I'm just a human being."

Bulareyaung shared his experience of changing his name from Chun-Ming Kuo to Bulareyaung Pagarlava. He expressed gratitude for his 20 years in the Western dance scene, which gave him a different perspective when returning to his Indigenous roots. He also mentioned his pride in being an Indigenous artist, noting that for a long time, Indigenous people had no the discourse power to speak for themselves. Now, he is honored to openly declare, both locally and internationally, that he is from the Paiwan tribe. "How do you define yourself? Just be yourself."

The first panel of the 2024 AAPPAC explored the evolving relationship between tradition and modernity in the arts. Both Jian-Hong Kuo and Bulareyaung Pagarlava shared personal journeys in artistic expression, viewing tradition as accumulated wisdom with which they can always have conversations. Moderator Chun-Yen Wang emphasized that rather than focusing on the gap between tradition and modernity, we should look into the bridges that already exist, encouraging interaction between the two and allowing for constant redefinition.