Taiwan's Dream Community

Taiwan-style samba floats stand almost two stories high and show the distinct influence of local Aboriginal culture. Some 500 samba drummers from Aboriginal villages follow along behind the floats, singing in powerful, throaty voices and beating out infectious rhythms. Spectators unconsciously find themselves drawn into the parade, and before they know it they're dancing with abandon.

The parade stretches out for about a kilometer and features Aboriginal dancing and youths in black skeleton costumes. A clown rides a bicycle towering a story high, and a gigantic oversized infant threads through the crowd, clutching a baby bottle and inciting giggles. A unicycle team from Humanity Primary and Junior High School in Ilan County wows the crowd during a three-kilometer ride. The big crowd favorite is a flock of "chickens" riding around on converted kiddy cycles. The troupe has proposed "Flock of Chickens" for its name. More than 200 teams with upwards of 8,000 members converge on Hsichih every October to take part in the annual Dream Parade organized by the Dream Community Culture and Education Development Foundation. It is a unique opportunity for everyday people to get hearts racing, bodies shaking, and creative juices flowing as they take with abandon to the streets.

The artsy atmosphere of Dream Community has attracted many foreign residents. They serve up their distinctive home cuisines at the community-run Tree Cafe, an excellent place to share flavors and cultures.

Old home, young dream

As the saying goes, "Life is art, art is life." Foundation chairman Gordon Tsai feels that art is not just something to be gazed at in museums and theaters; it is rather a force that inspires people to think up new ideas and create new things. To get things jump-started, the Foundation invites foreign artists every year to act as artists-in-residence at the community and lend their exuberance and inspiration to local residents.

The Dream Parade was first organized in 2002 in an effort to build up a feeling of community among the locals, and to foster a feeling of attachment to the area. The impetus for the dream was provided ten years ago by the wrecking equipment that brought down the old farmhouse in Hsichih where the Tsai family had lived for generations.

Sorry to see the farmhouse go, Tsai was determined to see that the apartment buildings going up on the family's land would inspire in residents the same affection he felt for the old homestead. Armed with not one iota of expertise in home building, Tsai made up his mind to go into construction. He took to riding his scooter around Taipei in the high-rent east side and Tienmu areas, going over the neighborhoods with a fine-tooth comb to see how the high-rise apartment buildings there were designed and what building materials were used. "I didn't really have a clear idea of what I was doing back then. I just knew I wanted the buildings in Hsichih to be just as beautiful as the ones on Jen-ai Road in Taipei."

When he finished his first building all the units sold out at a price per ping (3.3 square meters) that averaged around NT$50,000 higher than the going market rate for the area. While building regulations would have allowed for six structures on the 4-5,000-ping lot, Tsai only put up three buildings ranging from seven to 12 stories high, with only 300 units.

Hsichih was once a cozy little town nestled amongst mountains and streams, but all good things must come to an end. It has long since transformed into a densely packed satellite metropolis where developments crowd right up to the edge of the river banks. For years, every time a typhoon blew through, the river overflowed, turning the city into a lake and showing how little attachment the new residents felt for the area. Tsai laments: "After the typhoons, local residents weren't rolling up their pants and cleaning out the flood damage. They were just packing up their belongings and selling off their property for a pittance!" That's when Tsai realized that the built environment alone, no matter how nicely done, is not enough to make the local area feel like home to outsiders who have only recently moved in. Most new residents only pick Hsichih for its low real estate prices, and many are even loath to admit their Hsichih address, telling people only that they live "near Neihu."

Knowing well enough that the government could solve the flooding problem by building a floodwater diversion channel, Tsai nevertheless began to feel that that the only way to build a community with heart was to establish shared ideals and enable local residents to tell their own story in their own way, so that newcomers would hunker down for the long haul.

Hsichih has grown at an explosive pace over the past decade, with high-rises popping up everywhere. Shown here is Dream Community. Those seeking to buy homes in the fourth high-rise apartment building, currently under construction, are rigorously screened; participation in an overseas arts pageant is a prerequisite for eligibility to buy.

Arts carnival

Tsai learned of a neighborhood in Seattle called Fremont, where every year artists are invited from throughout the world to mix with local residents and work together on art projects, which they parade around on the streets at summer solstice. After taking part in the event himself and getting a first-hand feel for how much fun it is when a lot of people get together to play around with art, Tsai was inspired by the Fremont Solstice Parade to organize an "oriental version" of the event in Hsichih. He decided to call it the Dream Carnival.

One month prior to the beginning of the arts parade, lots of colorful floats are parked in the Dream Community square, while foreign artists set up workshops here and there throughout the community. Expensive materials are not needed. Rather than buy bungee cords to bind up the big parade props, they simply take old inner tubes and cut them into strips. Used manila envelopes painted over with a coat of transparent lacquer work perfectly as lantern coverings. Curious locals come out to see martial arts experts display their skills. Others make oversized parade figures under the instruction of artists, while professional dancers work with inexperienced residents and give them the confidence to perform in public. Working together on myriad projects breaks down barriers and closes the distance between people.

Local resident Ms. Lin, who was part of the chicken troupe in the most recent Dream Parade, laughs heartily as she describes the parade. A former resident of Taipei's Mucha community, she first took part in the Dream Parade three years ago and liked the camaraderie and participation so much that she ended up moving to Dream Community with her family of four.

A month ahead of the parade, those planning to take part in the chicken troupe start making cardboard cutouts for the chicken bodies under the guidance of the parade leader. They hand over the cutouts to kids for painting, then bamboo frames are attached to kiddy cycles, turning each into a chicken cart. Ms. Lin, who got completely hooked on crafts after learning papier-mache technique to make chicken hats, frenetically helps relatives, including granny and her younger sister's entire family, to produce beautiful rooster hats. Admiring the rooster bicycle made by her husband, Ms. Lin is surprised to discover that he is every bit as artistically talented as the foreign artists in town for the event. "All you have to do is try it once and you find creative ideas just keep coming. We want to do it again next year!"

Kiddy cycles are converted into pony and chicken cycles. Tots join in the parade. Too cute!

Foes today, friends tomorrow

Tsai's first go at the Dream Carnival was in 2002. Recalling the indifference and suspicion he faced in the early days, Tsai exclaims: "Just imagine, trying to put on an arts parade in a conservative place like Hsichih, and needing everyone to pitch in, no less. Good grief!" Relying heavily on friends and relatives, he ran around imploring people to come out with him, and managed to come up with a couple hundred people willing to take to the streets. But the parade lacked a central theme, and disorganized parade teams couldn't effectively express the creative ideas people had in mind. The atmosphere was subdued, and even Tsai himself was dismayed.

Peers in the construction industry laughed at Tsai's efforts to start up an arts carnival, and said he was just throwing away his money. One academic criticized Tsai, saying the whole thing was just a gimmick to drive up housing prices. And some residents, far from taking part, actually filed a complaint with the Environmental Protection Bureau, saying that the event was too noisy.

"We've had to deal with suspicion every step of the way. Heck, even a saintly Buddhist monk like Master Sheng Yen has people who suspect his motives, so why should I worry about it? I'm confident that those with suspicions will become our best friends once they've observed us over an extended period."

When the second year rolled around, the foundation invited five veteran artists over from Fremont (including a public artist, prop maker, and fire dancer) and an arts agent to stay in the community for three weeks. The guests discussed parade themes with local residents and directed the production of parade floats, helping people overcome their lack of confidence in their artistic abilities. As a result, the parade teams were big crowd pleasers the second year.

The Dream Carnival has grown steadily more polished over the past five years, and its influence has begun to spread. Teams hoping to participate now have to submit a theme proposal a half year in advance of the parade, then come to the community at least twice to participate in and observe artistic events. One month before the event, they are allowed to come to Hsichih and use temporary workshops to prepare parade props and rehearse with the help of 32 foreign artists from ten different countries. All resources are available free of charge, and the Foundation, in a bid to encourage participation by the public, also gives each team a NT$5,000 subsidy to help defray the cost of materials.

The foreign artists are specialists in painting, dance, theater, and music, as well as juggling and other stunts. During the month-long preparations, residents use their spare time after school and jobs to work on parade ideas and experiment with art. In a very natural way, they end up living within art.

The influence of Dream Community now extends beyond the community itself. Tsai has arranged for American artist-in-residence Jimmy Baila to teach drumming to the Aboriginal children at Camphor Tree Elementary School. The samba drummers of Camphor Tree Elementary have now attained a degree of fame, and are often invited to put on performances. They are even scheduled to perform overseas this year.

The foundation also arranged for Jimmy to go on a three-month tour among Aboriginal villages in Pingtung County. And lantern maker Tomas of Mexico took his skills to the outlying island of Matsu, where he contributed a note of foreign inspiration to the Lantern Festival.

Some 60 artists come every year to take up residence at Dream Community. These two children are using castoff bamboo at a basket weaver's workshop to make bows and arrows.

Foreign enclave

Many art lovers have moved to Hsichih from elsewhere in Taiwan just to be part of Dream Community, which has also become a top choice of foreigners who settle long-term in Taiwan. Such is the drawing power of the Dream Community Culture and Education Development Foundation!

Stereo equipment dealer Liu Chun-te says: "I've lived in Dream Community for five years and have taken part in the end-of-the-year party here every year. It's a lot more fun than fighting the crowd to the see fireworks at Taipei 101." As I arrive for our interview on his day off, he is using a net to scoop fallen leaves from the fishpond in the lobby of his high-rise apartment complex. Next to the fishpond is a Chinese-style gazebo where he and his friends often get together to chat over tea.

Community residents keep three goats next to the community square and run an open-air coffee shop where people come to sip a brew or attend arts classes. There are also an annual arts parade, film festival, and music festival. This quality of living plus a nearby high-tech industrial park have attracted a number of long-term foreign residents from Switzerland and North America, turning Dream Community into a miniature global village. The community's Tree Cafe features "ten people, ten countries, ten cuisines," with the community's foreign residents taking turns to serve as chef. Quite unexpectedly, Dream Community has become one of greater Taipei's more notable foreign enclaves, after Tienmu.

The arts festival continues from morning till night. A huge tree lantern extends its branches and denounces mankind for his destruction of nature.

Homebuyer screening

Dream Community is currently building a fourth and final high-rise apartment building. Unlike a conventional high-rise apartment building, where the first floor is typically set aside as high-rent commercial space, in this fourth building it has been designed as an international arts exchange center, with a 200-seat puppet theater, an artist-in-residence workshop, a CAFE art gallery, and classrooms for puppet making, music, dance, and art.

The handiwork of Dream Community artists will be incorporated into the new building. Every door, for example, will be done by noted furniture designer Martin Zaugg (a.k.a. "Wood Martin"). American glass artist and former community resident Miller Rodman will make a one-off glass handle for every door. Arrangements have also been made for an artist-in-residence to execute a public art installation entitled Angel on Stilts, and for another to run the puppet theater.

Dream Community has become so famous that for the past three years now anyone hoping to buy a home there has been required to fill out an application, write a brief autobiography, view a puppet theater performance, watch a video of the local parade, take part in volunteer activities, bring their entire family to sit down with Gordon Tsai for an afternoon tea, and travel overseas to take part in an arts pageant before they will be approved to make a purchase!

"Dream Community is the foundation upon which I'm building my dreams, and homebuyers will be joining forces with me." Tsai stresses that he is being neither arrogant nor deliberately difficult in adopting this unique way of selling homes, much less is he merely trying to jack up prices. With a sigh, he laments that while the number of those supporting his activities is growing after many years of effort, change is still too slow and difficult, so the only way to achieve the core values of Dream Community is to start right at the beginning, screening residents before they move in to make sure that those who come "understand what we're doing, support it, and fully intend to take part."

The Foundation helpfully provides prospective homebuyers with a list of arts parades throughout the world that it recommends, but the requirement to travel overseas for such a parade is a deal killer for most buyers, as the trip goes beyond ordinary tourism. The travelers must actually take part in the parades and put real effort into the learning process.

All it takes is a genuine interest to design a bunch of props matching the parade theme, and anyone can take part in a "lion march."

Life as art, art as life

After the event ends, it becomes a part of everyday life. Giant parade figures remain in the workshops. In the grain mill, the baker grinds flour and adds fresh goat's milk to make bread. In the square, a few local residents are learning fire dancing from an artist-in-residence.

Having poured some NT$20 million of his own money every year for the past five years into arts-based community development activities, Gordon Tsai hopes to see Dream Community generate "more than NT$100 million worth of impact." If art becomes a natural part of the lives of community residents and spurs the emergence of a real life Shangri-La, his dreams will have been accomplished.

"Just imagine your child growing up here, watching Martin do carpentry, Adam make puppets, and Amy mill flour. We were meant to 'play life,' not just live it!" And that just about sums up what Dream Community is all about.

Art need be neither inaccessible nor scary. Under the guidance of a teacher, local residents play around with creative ideas.

Scream your lungs out! Bang the drums! At an arts carnival, participants let go of their usual inhibitions and give free rein to the untamed life force that lurks within.

Be creative! Live like you mean it! The most important thing at this arts festival is simply to join in!