I play saxophone. An instrument steeped in African American musical traditions, particularly jazz. I fell in love with improvisation and the musical conversations that happen between the musicians playing it. While this artform emerged from the experiences and creativity of Black communities in the US, it became the musical language through which I first learned to express myself and connect with others. As a mixed-race Irish-Indonesian person born and raised in Australia, a long way from New York City, I find it interesting that the music that shaped me most deeply came from a tradition with roots far from my own upbringing. At the same time, my relationship with Indonesian heritage was something I was still learning to navigate.

Music became central to who I was as an adult. It shaped my relationships, my work, the places I travelled and the communities I found. At the same time, while growing up feeling mostly like a ‘normal’ Aussie kid, I was fortunate enough to have one toe in Indonesian culture. I went to school in West Bali for a short time, took language classes, and later travelled solo to Yogyakarta to learn more about Wayang Kulit (shadow puppetry), which fascinated me. Every so often, I would lean into that part of myself a little more.

But even with those experiences, I often felt like I was standing slightly outside of Indonesian culture. I didn’t speak the language fluently, and I sometimes wondered where I fit within a culture that was part of my heritage but not part of my everyday life.

Years later, after almost two decades working as a musician, touring, recording and composing, I stumbled across Gamelan DanAnda, a community Indonesian gamelan group just a few blocks from my home in Naarm’s inner north. How could I not walk through the door? It was Indonesian and music – that’s me! But I didn’t realise how meaningful it would be. And it wasn’t just about the music. It was a lot about the people. 

Gamelan can be quite a large ensemble. Think brass gongs and metallophones, drums and other percussive instruments. The music is rhythmic and powerful. It is such a community practice. Masters play alongside beginners. Everyone contributes. You play together and you connect. The rehearsals were full of Indonesians, Australians and people from all kinds of backgrounds, many with their own connection to Indonesia. Some had grown up there. Some had family connections to Indonesia. Some, like me, were finding another way back towards a part of themselves. 

Suddenly my musical identity and my Indonesian identity occupied the same room. Not running alongside one another but in conversation. 

Later I had the opportunity to perform with members of Gamelan DanAnda alongside artist and beatmaker Komang and dancer Yasmin Middleton; who also explore what it is to be mixed race Indonesian through their art. The music we made drew from Indonesian classical traditions while making space for improvisation, and blending in contemporary western musical languages. I moved between saxophone and gamelan and found pure joy creating a dialogue with Yas as she danced. Listening and responding. A conversation between traditions, between musicians, and between different parts of myself.

Identity as something we create

I remember being drawn to ideas about identity development during my undergraduate psychology studies. Erikson (1968) suggested that our sense of identity develops through our social world. It’s the people, relationships and communities that shape us. Marcia (1966) also described identity as something we continue to explore and commit to across our lives.

I like this idea that we are constantly discovering new parts of ourselves, holding onto the things that feel meaningful, and actively shaping who we become. My time in music has been like that, moving between different sounds and scenes, exploring which parts resonated, which parts I wanted to keep. Creative practice can give you a safe space to do that exploring.

I think this is part of why this gamelan community was so meaningful for me. It wasn’t simply that I was learning Indonesian music. This was a community where different parts of my identity that were important to me existed together.

Connection through creativity

It feels to me that now more than ever there is a growing movement of artists exploring questions of heritage, belonging, and cultural connection. I have seen this in the work of artists such as Jen Cloher, who explored reconnection with Māori culture and language through music, and Nkechi Anele, whose work engages with her Nigerian heritage and identity. In film, artists like Annelise Hickey have explored what it means to find community, celebrate culture, and build belonging as a Tongan Australian.

For many people from diasporic backgrounds, connecting with culture isn’t always straightforward. It can be something we have to find or slowly piece together. I think that is part of what makes creative practice so powerful. It gives us a way to explore where we come from, who we are, and where we feel we belong.

References

Erikson, E. H. (1968). Identity Youth and Crisis (No. 7). WW Norton & Company.

Marcia, J. E. (1966). Development and Validation of Ego-identity Status. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 3(5), 551.