Despite her initial dream of becoming a model, Tapas or Chang Ling-hsin (張凌馨) is a 14-year-old girl who is not obsessed with taking duck-face selfies. Armed with her Nikon D60, she focuses her 18-55mm lens and snaps a few shots of schoolchildren playing basketball outside of her old school, Taoshan Elementary School (桃山國小). The court overlooks the fogged-covered mountains of her hometown, an Atayal village called Chingchuan (清泉) which is near Hsinchu.
Her camera was a gift from Australian photographer Jonathan Burke, a long-time Taipei resident who regularly volunteers at the school. He gave it to Tapas in January after noticing her experimentation with angles and perspectives on her cellphone camera. Since then, Tapas has been photographing scenes from Chingchuan to submit to the Makapah Arts Award for images depicting Aboriginal culture.
CHALLENGING STEREOTYPES
Photo courtesy of Tapas
Despite her youth, Tapas understands the stereotypes people have of Aboriginal people and hopes to challenge those negative perceptions through her photography.
“I don’t feel oppressed or marginalized at all, which is how people might expect us to feel,” she said.
Aboriginal culture is often filtered to cater to the needs of tourists, especially in the form of costumes, dance and music. Tapas’ pride in her Atayal culture is evident in her pictures but in a different and subtle way. Her portraitures capture everyday life in Chingchuan from special occasions like birthday gatherings to friends having a chat. The message she wishes to convey is that Atayal people do the same things other people do.
Photo courtesy Jonathan Burke
“Each shot that I take captures the emotion I am feeling at that moment, whether it is happy, sad or frustrated, so while the pictures tell my own story, anyone can relate to them because life is about experiencing all these various emotions,” Tapas said.
Although her message is universal, Tapas’ love for Chingchuan is obvious. Gazing into the same mountainous backdrop, she talks about a picture she took of the fog resting on the trees after an argument she had with a classmate.
She says that “taking the picture really helped me to let go of the negative energy, and the feeling that other people glean from viewing it is also very peaceful.”
Photo courtesy of Tapas
FAMILY SUPPORT
Tapas’ family did not initially understand the meanings behind her photographs. She describes how they used to just look at them and say “great,” handing the camera back to her.
After seeing how dedicated Tapas has been towards pursuing this “hobby” though, her family, especially her mother, has been supportive of her decision to enter competitions and even pursue photography as a profession.
Photo courtesy of Tapas
This encouragement is important to Tapas since she is very close to her extended family. She calls her cousins “brothers and sisters,” and they are often the main subjects of her work.
Referring to a picture she took of her older sister playing the piano, Tapas says that if she had to write a caption for her photobook portfolio, it would read: “Everyone’s life is like a song and each song tells a different story.”
Tapas’ photography has caught the eye of Taipei-based foreign filmmakers who are working on a crowdfunding campaign on Fuudai.com to upgrade her lens to a Nikkor 18-200mm for a greater zoom function so that she can better tell her stories.
Tapas says she is still too young to decide her future. Although she adds that her mother believes photography is “at least a more practical option to pursue than modeling.”
In the March 9 edition of the Taipei Times a piece by Ninon Godefroy ran with the headine “The quiet, gentle rhythm of Taiwan.” It started with the line “Taiwan is a small, humble place. There is no Eiffel Tower, no pyramids — no singular attraction that draws the world’s attention.” I laughed out loud at that. This was out of no disrespect for the author or the piece, which made some interesting analogies and good points about how both Din Tai Fung’s and Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing Co’s (TSMC, 台積電) meticulous attention to detail and quality are not quite up to
April 21 to April 27 Hsieh Er’s (謝娥) political fortunes were rising fast after she got out of jail and joined the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) in December 1945. Not only did she hold key positions in various committees, she was elected the only woman on the Taipei City Council and headed to Nanjing in 1946 as the sole Taiwanese female representative to the National Constituent Assembly. With the support of first lady Soong May-ling (宋美齡), she started the Taipei Women’s Association and Taiwan Provincial Women’s Association, where she
Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) Chairman Eric Chu (朱立倫) hatched a bold plan to charge forward and seize the initiative when he held a protest in front of the Taipei City Prosecutors’ Office. Though risky, because illegal, its success would help tackle at least six problems facing both himself and the KMT. What he did not see coming was Taipei Mayor Chiang Wan-an (將萬安) tripping him up out of the gate. In spite of Chu being the most consequential and successful KMT chairman since the early 2010s — arguably saving the party from financial ruin and restoring its electoral viability —
It is one of the more remarkable facts of Taiwan history that it was never occupied or claimed by any of the numerous kingdoms of southern China — Han or otherwise — that lay just across the water from it. None of their brilliant ministers ever discovered that Taiwan was a “core interest” of the state whose annexation was “inevitable.” As Paul Kua notes in an excellent monograph laying out how the Portuguese gave Taiwan the name “Formosa,” the first Europeans to express an interest in occupying Taiwan were the Spanish. Tonio Andrade in his seminal work, How Taiwan Became Chinese,
RSS