Indigenous artists invite connections to timeless cultural expressions.
Traditional Paiwan tattoos preserve cultural lineage and personal identity through generations. (Photo by Chin Hung-hao)
These practices are dynamic expressions that adapt to shifting cultural and social contexts. “What we see as traditional is the result of generations of evolution,” Lin said. In recent years a new generation of Indigenous artists has arrived on the scene to boldly reshape notions of identity, challenge colonial frameworks and reinterpret long-held knowledge through innovative contemporary forms.
Shared Understanding
Beyond preserving heritage, Indigenous visual art plays a vital role in fostering cross-cultural understanding. Exhibitions, workshops and collaborative projects between Indigenous and other artists and institutions have opened new avenues for dialogue. “Art provides an entry point for people unfamiliar with native cultures to engage on both the emotional and intellectual levels,” Lin explained. “When visitors see a woven garment or a painted pattern, it can lead to questions that in turn lead to fruitful discussions about land, language and cosmology.”
Colorful wood carvings at Taiwan Indigenous Peoples Culture Park in the southern county of Pingtung reflect the various mythologies and aesthetic traditions of the artists who blended symbolism with artistic flair to bring them to life. (Photo by Chin Hung-hao)
This function is especially important in Taiwan’s diverse society, where historical marginalization has often led to misconceptions about Indigenous life. Through storytelling embedded in visual motifs, such as the sun symbol in Paiwan art or the river serpents in Bunun lore, artists and curators can convey values that challenge dominant narratives. “We see art as a platform that allows communities to tell their stories in their own ways,” Lin said.
Educational outreach is a core strategy of the prehistory museum’s mission. In-school programs, traveling exhibitions and community-led initiatives have brought Indigenous art into new spaces, placing it within the shared cultural consciousness of Taiwan. The researcher noted a shift in the way Indigenous knowledge is taught, pointing out that cultural transmission has expanded beyond exhibits and classrooms. “Artists who go back to their home villages and teach through local language and land-based learning receive support and encouragement,” he said.
Educational outreach is a core strategy of the prehistory museum’s mission. In-school programs, traveling exhibitions and community-led initiatives have brought Indigenous art into new spaces, placing it within the shared cultural consciousness of Taiwan. The researcher noted a shift in the way Indigenous knowledge is taught, pointing out that cultural transmission has expanded beyond exhibits and classrooms. “Artists who go back to their home villages and teach through local language and land-based learning receive support and encouragement,” he said.
Aluaiy works on an installation using the traditional Paiwan weaving technique lemikalik, which creates circles as a symbol of interconnectedness. (Courtesy of Aluaiy Kaumakan)
Aluaiy Kaumakan, a Paiwan artist known for her soft sculptures, embodies the intricate ties between cultural transmission and personal innovation. She began learning Paiwan textile techniques in childhood, particularly the form known as lemikalik. The traditional circular method of weaving is used not only in clothing and ornamentation, but also in architectural contexts. “In our culture, lemikalik connects everything,” she explained. “You see it in wedding adornments and how roofs are constructed. It’s more than a technique; it’s a symbol of how we’re bound together, people and land, women and community.”
Aluaiy’s early work emphasized ceremonial motifs and lush textures, evoking grandeur and dignity. Her artistic direction took a poignant turn after Typhoon Morakot in 2009 forced her village to relocate. “The disaster broke many of our physical connections,” she recalled. “My art began to focus on healing: how to mend invisible wounds and how to use softness to restore collective strength.” Her more recent pieces are delicate, emotionally resonant tapestries that intertwine plant fibers, thread and found objects. Through these, she foregrounds women’s resilience. “Women in our community have always held things together, even if they’re not always seen. I want my work to honor not just the struggle but also the dignity and creativity of our everyday lives.”
In “Black Stacking I,” Aluaiy explores themes of healing and community through layers of yarn and sculptural form. (Courtesy of Aluaiy Kaumakan)
Aluaiy’s contributions have garnered significant recognition, including the prestigious 2018 Pulima Art Award for Visual Arts, affirming her impact within Taiwan’s Indigenous art community. Her work has featured internationally at the 7th Yokohama Triennale in Japan, 10th Asia Pacific Triennial in New Zealand, 23rd Biennale of Sydney and the “Inherited Practice” exhibition at Hayward Gallery in the U.K., with her piece “Finding a Habitat” acquired by Queensland Art Gallery. These achievements have bridged lemikalik weaving with contemporary art and fostered global appreciation for Paiwan cultural heritage. She envisions a future centered on collective authorship that preserves identity and aims to create art collaboratively with her community, elders and the next generation.
Uncovering History
For Hewen a ta:in tawtawazay, of Saisiyat and Hakka descent, the path toward realizing her identity began when her father fell ill in 2017. Born in 1993, Hewen grew up in a Hakka village, largely detached from her Indigenous roots. “He began telling me bits of our family history, things I’d never heard before,” she said. “It felt like a calling to piece together our past.”
Uncovering History
For Hewen a ta:in tawtawazay, of Saisiyat and Hakka descent, the path toward realizing her identity began when her father fell ill in 2017. Born in 1993, Hewen grew up in a Hakka village, largely detached from her Indigenous roots. “He began telling me bits of our family history, things I’d never heard before,” she said. “It felt like a calling to piece together our past.”
Hewen introduces her artwork to an audience at the Saisiyat Museum in the northern county of Miaoli, sharing her reflections on heritage, identity and the creative process. (Courtesy of Hewen a ta:in tawtawazay)
Hewen emphasizes that her projects are not about romanticizing the past but making it navigable for future generations. She sees no contradiction between tradition and innovation. “People often ask if modern art betrays the old ways, but I believe reimagining is part of life,” she said. “Our ancestors were always adapting and creating new tools, new patterns and new ways of expression.” This generational transmission is often strengthened through collaborative community efforts. Hewen has participated in mural projects in her home village, where children painted walls with stories passed down by their grandparents. “These projects help kids see themselves in the visual landscape. It tells them that their identity matters,” she said.
Hewen a ta:in tawtawazay traces ancestral routes to evoke memories of movement and loss in “Lohizaw,” which means ridge crossing in Saisiyat. (Courtesy of Hewen a ta:in tawtawazay)
Blending Indigenous perspective with contemporary form, Hewen reimagines Saisiyat memory through the use of modern materials and space. (Courtesy of Hewen a ta:in tawtawazay)
Her work gained international recognition at the 2024 Jakarta Biennale in Indonesia, where she exhibited “Red Hair House Project” and “Lohizaw” in an exploration of Miaoli’s historical narratives and overlooked place names to reflect on the colonial impact on Indigenous cultures. In addition to her visual art, Hewen hosts a podcast that facilitates conversations about Indigenous identity, life experiences and community issues. “I’ve been thrilled by the feedback from guests, mostly creators, who feel a sense of release, healing and clarity after discussing their stories,” she said. “These dialogues are rare and meaningful, and I hope listeners connect with the diverse narratives through the power of voice.” Her podcast work creates a space for self-reflection and cultural affirmation, contributing to greater recognition of both aspects of her heritage.
Creative Dialogue
More institutions are shifting from displaying Indigenous objects as ethnographic artifacts to presenting them as vital, evolving art forms situated within specific community narratives. Intergenerational collaboration and institutional partnerships are ushering in a new era of Indigenous art practice. Through co-curated exhibitions, artist residencies and inclusive curatorial strategies, these partnerships are fostering equitable representation. “We’ve moved from displaying to co-creating,” Hewen said. “Artists and community members are now being invited to shape how their culture is presented.”
Creative Dialogue
More institutions are shifting from displaying Indigenous objects as ethnographic artifacts to presenting them as vital, evolving art forms situated within specific community narratives. Intergenerational collaboration and institutional partnerships are ushering in a new era of Indigenous art practice. Through co-curated exhibitions, artist residencies and inclusive curatorial strategies, these partnerships are fostering equitable representation. “We’ve moved from displaying to co-creating,” Hewen said. “Artists and community members are now being invited to shape how their culture is presented.”
In “Family Portraits” (2016), Hewen links four generations of ancestors and descendants through the delicate manipulation of photos of herself and her father, grandfather and great-grandfather. (Courtesy of Hewen a ta:in tawtawazay)
Hewen recalled a recent experience curating an exhibition with fellow artists and elders. “We didn’t just bring our work, we brought our voices. We talked about which pieces mattered, why a pattern needed to face a certain way or what song should accompany a sculpture. That kind of process honors our traditions,” she said. This model of shared authorship addresses long-standing tensions between institutional authority and community agency. Rather than viewing the museum as a gatekeeper, such collaborations reimagine it as a platform for Indigenous creativity and self-representation. “It’s a shift in power,” Lin explained. “We’re learning to listen, support and adapt. When culture is transmitted through oral storytelling or seasonal ceremonies, it’s challenging to display it in a static glass case. Instead, we’re curating immersive experiences that incorporate sound, movement and atmosphere to honor the intangible elements of Indigenous heritage.”
Both artist and researcher emphasize the need for continued investment in Indigenous-led cultural initiatives. From funding grassroots workshops to creating spaces for experimental forms, supporting Indigenous art means valuing both the past and future. As Hewen puts it: “Our art doesn’t live in a museum. It lives in our breath, our footsteps and our songs. It’s always becoming.”
Both artist and researcher emphasize the need for continued investment in Indigenous-led cultural initiatives. From funding grassroots workshops to creating spaces for experimental forms, supporting Indigenous art means valuing both the past and future. As Hewen puts it: “Our art doesn’t live in a museum. It lives in our breath, our footsteps and our songs. It’s always becoming.”
Write to Krakias Kai at kwhuang@mofa.gov.tw