“When you feel like you are different, you wonder, ‘Who am I?’” says ­Chang, the daughter of Chinese-­Indonesian parents, in a clear voice and with her ever­-present smile and natural grace. “While choreographing a piece I reflect on these questions, but for creative types adversity is something to draw sustenance from.”

I Wayan Dibia, visiting instructor for Balinese dance, is pictured here with members of Indonesian Dance Workshop.

Where is home?

In 2001, after the 9/11 attacks on the US, all sorts of issues came up, questions of unity and categorization, race and background. ­Chang suddenly discovered that she was feeling perplexed.

Chang Wan-chao grew up in Taiwan, studied world folk dance in the US, spent time in Indonesia, and finally returned to Taiwan to teach dance. Such is her resume in a nutshell. The day she traveled from Tai­pei to Tai­chung to begin her university studies, she discovered that her speaking only Mandarin set her apart in a world where Taiwanese was dominant. That was the first time she felt she was different from others. During her decade studying in the US, when an opportunity to dance in a non-Asian performance arose, she was passed over for a leading role no matter how well she danced. And when people asked her to perform a dance native to her country, her hands and feet quaked with indignation.

Through her own soul-searching, she answered life’s questions on her own. “Along the way, I slowly came to realize that the definition of ‘home’ is not limited to a place,” she says. “It grows richer and expands along the way. I started simply as a dancer, and later became a choreographer. As long as you avoid labels, everything is simple.”

Chang Wan-chao wants to break down ethnic barriers. To all those interested, she extends a cordial invitation to dance together and learn about the beauty of Indonesian culture.

Maternal instincts and the ancestral home

As she was preparing to leave for Indonesia at the end of her studies in the US, terrorists launched a major attack in Jakarta. ­Chang realized that once people begin to sense mutual difference, conflict can erupt at any moment, whether it is with long-term neighbors or lifelong friends.

Chang felt helpless. Even though she had not visited Indonesia in a long time, it was still part of her flesh and blood. All she could do was imbue her final US dance performance with a maternal spirit, and in the face of conflict act as a protector and nourisher.

An eye-catching performance by dancers from Wan-Chao Dance and Gadung Kasturi Balinese Dance and Music.

Dance without borders

Javanese dance is perhaps more than just dance, more akin to a philosophy of life. In order to learn it, one must learn a new way of looking at all things under the heavens, including all forms of life and mysteries that cannot be put into words. Balinese dance, for example, is largely made up of religious rituals. Before performing, prayers must be said, and regardless of where one comes from or what religion one believes in, one must dedicate the performance to the surrounding spirits.

Compared to drama, ­Chang explains, dance is a more abstract medium. It is this essential character that affects a person’s emotional core and has a deeper impact, for dance is instinctive, and people danced before the advent of writing. ­Chang wants to recover its instinctive nature and use it to forge links between people and break down racial barriers. But she is not dogmatic about it. She wants only to extend a sincere invitation, in the hope that she can dance with others and together explore the beauty of the art.

Is this then what she means by her mission? “No! It’s not just that!” she says with flashing eyes. “Many dance performances appear to be standardized, but I’m not after uniformity. I want to jolt the audience and leave them questioning, so that they can look at things afterwards from a different perspective. This is my mission!”

Dancing with grace and humility, Chang Wan-chao offers each dance to the skies above and the world around us.

Studio with a mission

Chang would next like to concentrate her energy on her studio and use dance to introduce Indonesia to even more people.

“I’ve had doubts whether I was sufficiently ‘Indonesian’ to teach other people about it,” she says. “But I know I need to be brave and honest with myself. Part of me is Indonesian, but I have other parts too. Many people might consider me inadequately specialized. But this is also my uniqueness and my strength.” 

This is also the message that ­Chang wants to pass on to fellow children of immigrants. She feels that your culture, for better or worse, is part of you. And she feels that it is important to move from denial to acceptance and be thankful that the journey is long and full of struggles. ­Chang hopes that she has at least set off on a new path, much like the ROC government’s New Southbound Policy, intended to increase cooperation with Southeast Asia. No one can predict how long the journey will take or how far it will go. But taking the first step at least opens a space for dialogue.

Dancing with grace and humility, Chang Wan-chao offers each dance to the skies above and the world around us.

Dancing with grace and humility, Chang Wan-chao offers each dance to the skies above and the world around us.

Dancing with grace and humility, Chang Wan-chao offers each dance to the skies above and the world around us.