Taiwan Today

These scenes, these events,
have left their marks on the typhoon-ravaged land.

I want to head up into the mountains,
letting my spirit follow the winds,
to where I listen to my soul-spun notes
sing odes by the creek to the land.
I want to be covered once more in garb of wind and
color that hums an old refrain.

In my dreams I recall clearly mountain winds as fragrant as before.

—from The Fragrant Mountain Winds by Etan Pavavalung

In August 2009, Typhoon Morakot brought tragic devastation to central and southern Taiwan, causing nearly 700 deaths, seriously damaging 1,766 houses and forcing the permanent relocation of more than 10,000 people, most of whom had been living in remote mountain areas. In December 2010, Etan Pavavalung was among the typhoon survivors from Sandimen Township, Pingtung County in southern Taiwan who moved into permanent housing units in an urban setting at the foot of the mountains. Pavavalung is a member of the Paiwan tribe, and many of his tribespeople relocated to these new homes, which were provided free of charge through a partnership between government agencies and nongovernmental organizations (NGO). The villagers were grateful for the assistance they had received, but adapting to a new environment and a strong attachment to their previous homes left them unsettled, especially the elders who had lived in the tribal village all their lives.

One afternoon in his new neighborhood, a tribal elder sat singing in front of his poorly ventilated house: “Oh, how sweet the water in the homeland tastes! How fragrant are the winds that blow along the stream!” His singing inspired Pavavalung to write the poem The Fragrant Mountain Winds and produce a documentary with the same title about the post-disaster relocation and recovery difficulties that his tribespeople had experienced.

Life dealt Pavavalung another hard blow when his mother passed away one year after the devastating typhoon. “My mother used to say that nowadays people tend to show less respect for land. Consequently, deforestation and coastal erosion have compelled us to endure one disaster after another,” he recalls. “The death of my mother and [post-disaster] displacement often made me feel helpless. I worked very hard at creating art pieces, films, picture books, poetry and prose out of those traumatic events in an attempt to find renewed confidence and a positive attitude.”

Pavavalung likes to use different forms of art to feature post-disaster reconstruction efforts that involve not only physical, but also emotional and spiritual rebuilding. “My main concern is to explore the relationships between man and land and between man and nature,” he says. “Though we’re living in a technological age, we should remember the pure beauty of nature and not forget to protect the land given to us by the Creator. This concept of protection originates from the philosophy of life passed down from our ancestors.”

Pavavalung, 51, had long been an oil painter, but he started to develop a new series of works by carving and painting on wood planks. This artistic style involves using an engraving burin to incise thin lines on a wood plank and then applying colors with a paintbrush, pen or roller. The idea of creating this art form, he explains, comes from the Paiwan word ve-ne-cik, which can refer to carving, embroidery and writing. The root word vecik means written language as well as lines and patterns inscribed on clothes, homes, utensils and works of art. “My intention is to invent a new form of writing to represent my tribal beliefs and customs, which are closely related to the elements of nature, as well as the road to recovery and rebirth,” the artist says. “I also hope my new work can foster dialogue within contemporary society. I’d like to see aboriginal art become a cultural asset not only of indigenous people, but of all Taiwanese people.”

In recognition of Pavavalung’s artistic ideals and techniques, the Taipei Fine Arts Museum (TFAM) held an exhibition from March 29 to May 18 this year that showcased 49 carved and painted wood planks with accompanying poems, the documentary The Fragrant Mountain Winds and installation works created by the artist. TFAM director Huang Hai-ming (黃海鳴) says he is glad that his museum was able to organize an exhibition for an outstanding aboriginal artist like Pavavalung, as there had not been many such opportunities for TFAM in past years. In addition, he says that indigenous peoples’ ecological knowledge and wisdom concerning sustainable development amazes him. “Pavavalung transforms trauma into creative energy by turning natural images favored by his tribe—animals, plants, mountains, rivers, stars and the sun—into modern totems,” Huang says. “While appreciating his work, the viewer can feel the beauty of nature and will want to get close to it.”

Manifestly Modern

Li Jun-hsian (李俊賢), former director of the Kaohsiung Museum of Fine Arts in southern Taiwan, says he first saw Pavavalung’s work in 2010 and was impressed by the artist’s creativity and innovation. He has noticed that while most aboriginal artists focus on making three-dimensional works such as sculptures and installation art, Pavavalung stands out because of his focus on graphic art. “His creations contain cultural and traditional features that allow the audience to learn about the Paiwan culture and lifestyle,” Li says. “At the same time, they’re manifested in a modern art form with aesthetically pleasing color combinations.”

In 2012, Li invited Pavavalung to participate in an exhibition that he was curating at a private gallery. The artist’s six works received lots of attention during the event and sold quickly. “He’s a talented and prolific artist, constantly producing new and different kinds of quality pieces,” Li says. “I admire his diligence and have great expectations for his art.”

The Paiwan tribe, Li says, has a hereditary noble class that emphasizes decorative arts, and this has led to sophisticated designs for accessories, clothes and home décor, as well as a pictorial system of totemic images. Typical Paiwan totems include representations of animals such as the boar, deer and eagle due to generations-old hunting practices and a cultural emphasis on the hunting skills of male members of the tribe. Paiwan artists generally create such conventional portrayals, but Pavavalung’s work depicts more plants and personal experiences than animals. Furthermore, he combines woodcarving with printmaking techniques and adds free-flowing lines with intricate details to form elegant designs and beautiful visual effects, all of which make his art stand out, Li adds.

Pavavalung’s family background is likely to have influenced his art, Li opines, as his father is a skilled craftsman and elder brother a noted artist. “I’d describe his work as literati art as it imparts the artist’s thoughts and feelings in a refined, poetic style,” Li says. “His work can also be regarded as a quintessential example of the contemporary Austronesian artist who is balancing tradition with innovation.”

Art critic Hong Wei-zhe (洪威喆) says the subject matter that Pavavalung chooses is mostly related to tribal life and culture, and that the cultural symbols that fill his work convey his affection and concern for his tribe. In addition to using a video camera to record the emotions of the displaced tribespeople and their present lives, he strives to deliver encouraging messages in his artwork, Hong says.

The process of Pavavalung’s creation on wood planks is similar to that of wood engraving, a form of relief printmaking. The main difference is that every step and detail of the artist’s carving is aimed at instilling a life force into each individual work of art, rather than creating print reproductions for the mass market. “Pavavalung uses bright colors and expressive lines as well as interesting, exaggerated designs that feature traditional totems and tell stories. The combination brings a sense of modernity to his art,” Hong remarks. “Though he’s compassionate about many social difficulties, he doesn’t express sadness in his art. Instead, his work offers a gentle and humorous take on life and loss.”

With regard to the major totems that his tribe uses and the meanings they are generally associated with, Pavavalung explains that the hundred-pacer viper is revered as an ancestral or guardian spirit; the sun represents the noble class while animals and plants do the same for commoners; and a lily can symbolize women’s beauty or virtues and men’s bravery or hunting prowess. “In addition to these traditional symbols, I like to use circles to represent pieces of land, completeness or sharing, as well as eyes to imply Mother Nature is watching us, or that we need to observe nature to discover its splendor,” he says.

The Paiwan artist says his childhood experiences of living in a natural environment enabled him to understand the immense power of nature—its beauty, healing power, impact on human well-being and wisdom. Many of his pieces thus draw on his hometown memories, especially those from early childhood. Lying Down to Have a First Look at the Earth, for instance, represents the artist’s childhood experience of lying down on the ground with his two brothers to look at flowers, trees and the sky. Another, Father’s Fish Basket, depicts the method of catching fish taught by his father.

Rebuilding Souls

Before Typhoon Morakot, Pavavalung primarily worked with oil paints and canvas to create still lifes of flowers, fruits and man-made objects. However, in addition to reminiscing over the old tribal life and customs, over the last few years he has focused on his post-disaster emotions and those of his tribespeople, particularly the tribulations of adapting to a new and unfamiliar environment. His recent works on wood planks and in three picture books—The Children of the Land and the Sun, Boar Boar and The Lily’s Blessings—are examples of this focus. “In the aftermath of the disaster, everyone was talking about reconstruction of bridges, houses and roads, as well as other infrastructure, so most efforts were devoted to them,” he says. “But I think rebuilding souls is as important as rebuilding homes. I hope to use my art to engender hope and retain the tribal community’s cultural identity. Meanwhile, if my art can get viewers talking and thinking about how human activities have caused or aggravated natural hazards and what can be done to establish a relationship with nature based on harmonious interaction and co-existence, then it’s meaningful and successful.”

Independent curator and art critic Lin Yu-shih (林育世) says language is crucial to the preservation of a culture, and Pavavalung understands this clearly. He has striven to keep his tribal language alive through his visual arts. “The Paiwan artist senses the urgency to save tribal languages following the relocation of the entire tribe after Typhoon Morakot,” Lin says. “The oral tradition is barely surviving in the new settlement, and even worse is that the tribe’s pictorial language is severely threatened due to the destruction of its traditional domain—the natural world of animals, plants and landscapes—from which many of its symbols are derived.”

These drastic changes in lifestyle have led to a fundamental transformation in Pavavalung’s artistic content and expression, Lin notes. “The artist uses totem art to reconstruct the cultural life of displaced tribal members,” the curator says. “His representations of common totemic objects such as butterflies, ceramic pots, hundred-pacer vipers and wild lilies serve as depictions of his tribal traditions and way of life, or as metaphors for certain beliefs and ideas.”

The art critic is moved by the spiritual perspectives in Pavavalung’s new series of works and captivated by their expressive lines and intricately detailed patterns. “His creation of carved and painted wood planks in recent years demonstrates his artistic creativity and maturity,” Lin remarks. “They also reveal his eagerness not only to develop a unique art style and new techniques, but also to facilitate the dissemination and preservation of indigenous culture.”

Lin observes that the artist’s work is rife with primitive simplicity and vitality. “Pavavalung has found a good approach to revitalizing his native culture, history, language and identity. He’s poised to become one of the key figures in the history of Taiwan’s aboriginal art,” the curator says.

While Morakot post-disaster housing and reconstruction projects launched by the government and NGOs have largely been completed, Pavavalung is still working assiduously to reconstruct his tribal heritage through diverse forms of art. For him, it is an ongoing process that will never stop. “I find a sense of fulfillment and inner strength whenever I finish a piece of art. Hopefully, my work has the power to inspire and uplift viewers as well,” he says.

Write to Kelly Her at kher@mofa.gov.tw