Nia Agustina

I grew up dancing tari kreasi, from my early childhood. This is a creative form of dance that restructures traditional forms, and is taught in many studios. In the mountainous village where I grew up, in Wonosobo, central Java, dancer and choreographer simply didn’t exist as professions. Dance was something that people would participate in for leisure at local events, such as the Indonesian Independence Day on August 17, or village festivities.
 
Also, my father is a police officer and my mother is a middle school teacher, both working in fields unrelated to the arts. Given this upbringing, I ended up majoring in math education for both my undergraduate and graduate degree. This was because I felt that it was a more realistic decision to find a stable job like my parents.

As a student, I continued to dance at local studios. That’s where I met students majoring in dance at the Institut Seni Indonesia Jogjakarta, and learned about the reality of how many emerging choreographers—students and graduates—had very little opportunity to present their works.
 
Upon graduating university, young choreographers find themselves in a very vulnerable situation. Although they are able to learn the methodologies behind creating work in college, they are not thoroughly prepared for the various challenges they must face upon graduation, including knowing the mechanics of production, the system behind putting on a performance, ways of gathering funding, and cultivating networks. The reality is that, if an emerging artist wants to present their work independently, they must cover all of the costs themselves: these include the venue rental fee, securing production staff, lighting and sound fees, and more. This is an extremely difficult situation for students or choreographers who have just graduated.
 
Learning about this situation, I started to brainstorm for ways to provide a space for emerging artists to present their work, which led to the establishment of Paradance Platform in 2014. It first started by asking five of my choreographer friends to participate in a small event, in which we would present their works in one night. We aimed to help widen the possibilities for their activities by giving young choreographers a chance to meet each other, feel mutually inspired, and encounter a diverse range of works.
 
In Indonesia at the time, there was very little established infrastructure for even accessing grant funding, and very limited ways to find out about how to connect with producers. Many artists also did not have a comprehensive understanding of the role of the “producer” in the performing arts, and that situation remains largely unchanged to this day. The reason we’ve continued Paradance is because I felt that there was a role I could play to fill these major gaps in the field.

Paradance Platform does not have a continuous sponsor or funding system, so we self-fund the operational costs of our work. In this way, we curate a flexible range of programs depending on the needs of the choreographers at any given time, without being limited to specific frameworks.
 
From our founding until around 2016, we mainly focused on hosting a small festival. Titled “Festival Mini Seni Gerak dan Tari” (Mini Festival of Movement and Dance), the festival provided a space about three to four times a year for emerging choreographers to present their work. Since then, we’ve widened our scope, and began programs such as Study Club and Camp, where we hold English reading clubs. Today, we also have a residency program. We also have had choreographers write about their creative process and have compiled these writings into two publications.

Our work is largely supported by our community. Although funding is something that keeps coming in and out, if you’re able to build good relationships, the community will continue to sustain itself. This is the most important foundation in continuing Paradance. The venues that we rent out are also community spaces that local residents use on a daily basis for regional meetings and events, such as Balai Budaya Minomartani.
 
In terms of how we manage things, we always try to maintain a good grasp of our bandwidth and capacity. In this sense, we intentionally keep the scale of Paradance small. What should grow is not the platform itself, but the choreographers who we work with. If we keep our work small in scale, we can keep going without being heavily influenced by our finances.
 
In working with communities, we prioritize mutually understanding each other’s needs. When we host Paradance, local people come to support us, and if there’s a local event, we also offer our help. My husband’s family members are farmers, and sometimes we share our harvests with the members of the community; I also bring back souvenirs when I return from abroad. The fact that we continue to maintain organic relationships with our friends and neighbors rather than treat them as business partners is what ultimately sustains Paradance.
 
Since the venue is semi-outdoors, people who are not familiar with dance can also just stop by casually. We’ve had local mothers, fathers, and children just happen to come and see the performances. Their responses to contemporary dance pieces are especially unique and provide an opportunity to learn how people who do not regularly attend dance performances see the work, so the artists also cherish these connections. I get the impression that these kinds of coincidental encounters also help increase the amount of people interested in our work.

There are so many! [laughs] I would first mention the choreographer Ayu Permata Sari. We provided a residency opportunity for her, which led to a collaboration with the Kobe-based dancer and choreographer Ayaka Nakama. In terms of the following generation, we have choreographers such as Ela Mutiara (Sukabumi in West Java), M. Safrizal (Aceh Province), Tri Anggara (Jakarta), and Mang Tri Ray Dewantara (Bali), Leu Wijee (Palu), etc. In addition, some promising choreographers from our recent Paradance are Dinda Sulisna (Aceh Province), Fachry Matlawa (Papua), I Wayan Eka Parta Muliana (Bali), etc. Ela Mutiara, who I just mentioned, did a residency at Paradance from December 2025 to January 2026 and collaborated with Nanako Matsumoto with support from Japan Foundation.

The starting point was my participation in the Japan Foundation Asia Center’s Next Generation: Producing Performing Arts Program and TPAM (now YPAM) 2016. These programs served as a huge turning point in my career. I learned for the first time about how complex and structurally intricate the performing arts world is, and I was honestly in shock. At the same time, I realized that coming up with “strategies” was crucial for Indonesian artists to build their careers in this field. This experience formed the basis for the direction of my work going forward.

One of the first things was the way that connections are made. In Indonesian traditional dance, the most common way to organize an international performance is through the support of embassies and governments. However, at TPAM, I saw how international performances were brought about through the personal connections between artists and producers. I remember feeling surprised, not knowing how people build these relationships.
 
Another aspect that was shocking was the difficulty in understanding the works. To be honest, I was not able to understand, on first viewing, the experimental pieces I saw at TPAM, since it was my first time encountering those kinds of artistic expression. This experience taught me that I needed to learn how to interpret works and understand performances. The aesthetics of performance are deeply tied to each country’s history of the arts, so it’s not easy to understand and unpack a given work.
 
Another thing I noticed was a sense of inferiority I felt within myself. Perhaps this is related to Indonesia’s long history of colonial occupation, but it was a feeling where you unconsciously start to think that foreign artists are superior, harboring a kind of “colonial mentality.” I had the sense that perhaps this wasn’t just my personal experience but common to many emerging choreographers and dancers in Indonesia.

The first thing I worked on was learning English. To connect with people and access knowledge related to the performing arts, I felt English was essential. To be honest, I wasn’t very motivated [laughs], but I understood my situation and knew it was necessary to move forward.
 
After I returned from TPAM, we started a Study Club at Paradance to help young choreographers feel more confident engaging in international spaces. Moreover, we conduct residencies in collaboration with artists from other countries so that participants can experience creating in the same space and feel firsthand that they are able to communicate on equal terms.
 
For me, supporting choreographers is not just about helping them create works, but also nurturing their personal growth and confidence. I hope that both their work and their character will develop.

In 2020, I was able to go to Kobe for research after receiving the Japan Foundation Asia Center Fellowship. After meeting Fumi Yokobori from DANCE BOX (see Mirai Moriyama | Rediscovering Kobe—Building a Creative Space to Connect Through Art | Performing Arts Network Japan) and having many conversations, I felt that DANCE BOX’s activities and Yokobori’s own thinking closely aligned with mine. As a result, Paradance and DANCE BOX began developing a residency together, with each introducing the other to choreographers we knew well. Yokobori had worked with Ayaka Nakama for a long time, and I had supported Ayu Permata Sari since 2011, so we were both familiar with their work and personalities. We felt that these choreographers, whom we trusted, would be compatible, and we decided to bring them together.
 
Back in 2022, when the effects of the pandemic were still being felt, we began with ongoing dialogue as part of an online residency. Later that year, a residency was held at DANCE BOX, and in January of the following year, with the support of the Japan Foundation Jakarta Japanese Cultural Center, a collaborative residency took place at Paradance and at Ayu’s home in Lampung (Sumatra).
 
Then, in 2023, Ayu invited Ayaka to Lampung once again, which was made possible through support from a program—MTN (Manajemen Talenta Nasional/National Talent Management)—run by the Indonesian government. Furthermore, in early 2024, they undertook a residency at tanzhaus nrw in Düsseldorf, Germany, following an invitation from the organization. The two reunited in Kobe at the end of that year and went on to premiere their new work, AYUKA, at house next door in Kobe in November 2025.
 
Actually, Yokobori and I were only directly involved in the first two in-person residency programs; after that, Ayu and Ayaka continued working together and developed the project on their own, securing various forms of support independently. When designing the residency, we made our position clear: “If it doesn’t work out, you don’t have to force the collaboration.” As it turned out, the two of them felt they worked well together and took the initiative to move forward.

Working at a large-scale festival like IDF was, in itself, a very inspiring and valuable experience. In fact, the work I’ve been doing with Paradance also supported my curatorial work at IDF. Through Paradance, I was able to gain an understanding of young choreographers across Indonesia and develop a sort of map-like perspective. It was precisely because of that knowledge that I was able to make concrete proposals about which choreographers to introduce to IDF and how to structure the program.
 
However, after eight years in this role, I began to feel that my ideas were becoming repetitive. So, I decided to refocus my efforts on Paradance. The reason I have been able to grow as a curator and producer is that I have worked closely with choreographers over the years. That is precisely why I wanted to return to those roots, engage more deeply with emerging choreographers, and relearn the practice of supporting choreographers. To prioritize this process, I decided to step down from my role at IDF.

Yes, of course [laughs]. The reason I came to Japan and continue applying to various programs is that I want to be able to expand the opportunities for Indonesian dance artists to perform both locally and internationally, even if only a little. At the performing arts festival Autumn Meteorite 2025, to which I’ve been invited this time, I also place the highest value on directly experiencing the works, the artists, and the people involved.
 
In that sense, IDF also serves as a vital meeting point where domestic artists and international presenters come together. However, IDF has its own resource limitations and cannot shoulder everything alone. That is exactly why I believe it is important for various dance platforms, in addition to IDF, to support choreographers in their own ways. While IDF functions as a space for international encounters, Paradance and other platforms support young choreographers on their own scales and in their own ways. I believe that by collaborating and fulfilling their respective roles, these multiple platforms can help broaden the opportunities available to Indonesian choreographers
 
In fact, there are many dance platforms in Indonesia besides Paradance. For example, initiatives focused on international exchange are taking place in regional areas as well, such as Sasikirana Dance in Bandung, the KABA Festival in Padang, Festival Mentari in Padang Panjang, Kolektif Katalis in Solo, etc. I think it is very positive that multiple platforms of different types coexist. In this way, not only those who participate in IDF, but also many other choreographers can receive support and opportunities in various forms.
 
In addition, several initiatives are currently underway in Indonesia to promote the development of the performing arts as a whole. One such initiative is Forum Producer, a platform that connects domestic producers and arts managers. I have personally had the opportunity to meet many people through this platform.
 
What I value most is nurturing relationships naturally with the people I meet, without limiting my network. Looking back on my 11 years of experience, I often think of my experience with Fumi Yokobori as an example: we first built a relationship and went through a process of getting to know each other well before we began collaborating. I believe that by cultivating relationships in this way, we gradually open up new pathways for Indonesian artists to connect with the world.

What I’ve been noticing lately is that social media platforms like TikTok have created an environment where people can achieve immediate results. If a 1-minute or 30-second video gets a lot of views, it can sometimes even generate income. On the other hand, creating a single choreographed piece requires a tremendous amount of energy—including time, funding, research, and promotion—and in some cases, artists have to cover the costs themselves. Given this situation, I can understand why some young artists feel that social media is an easier way to see results. That is precisely why I believe that figuring out how to maintain a connection with young choreographers is a major challenge right now.
 
In this way, the proliferation of social media and online platforms is influencing the nature of creative work. Today’s young choreographers tend to gravitate naturally toward multidisciplinary approaches. We are seeing an increasing number of works that incorporate not only dance but also other fields, such as installation art and theater. I believe this trend is unique to an era in which information flows in from all over the world.
 
Therefore, at festivals organized by Paradance, we do not require applicants to be dance majors. Even if someone has never studied dance professionally, we welcome submissions as long as the work includes choreographic elements. The lineup features an exceptionally wide variety of works, ranging from pieces that are quintessentially “dance” to those that blend performance and installation, as well as works with theatrical structures.
 
Artistic creation is becoming increasingly diverse. To respond to this reality, Paradance embraces highly choreographic dance works, as well as works created from the perspectives of artists whose backgrounds may lie outside the field of dance, alongside many other forms of expression ensuring that audiences can experience a wide range of expressions within a single festival. We believe this is essential for maintaining connections with young choreographers and staying attuned to the current dance landscape.