Cover New York-based dancer and filmmaker Joan Dwiartanto (Photo: Crispian Chan)
New York-based dancer and filmmaker Joan Dwiartanto (Photo: Crispian Chan)
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New York‑based Singaporean dancer and film‑maker Joan Dwiartanto reflects on her time at Juilliard, working with some of the biggest names in dance, and turning her bold ideas into cinematic reality
It is rare to find an artist with extraordinary talent and passion for one art form, and even rarer to find one with the flair for two. Contemporary dancer Joan (say “Joanne”) Dwiartanto has only in recent years found film‑making a fruitful creative avenue, but you wouldn’t guess it—the Juilliard graduate approaches the camera with the self‑assured vision and the attention to detail of a more seasoned director.
Based in New York, Dwiartanto recently ventured into the realm of dance films, a related but entirely different art form altogether. “I started off just wanting to put cool stuff on my Instagram,” the 24‑year‑old confesses. But the more she developed an eye for visual concepts, the more they itched to articulate themselves in longer pieces; so she finally invested in a digital camera. The result is Crying on the Island They Own, her debut short film released in 2022 that she co‑directed and choreographed. It has since racked up awards, such as the World Cup of Dance Video at the 2022 Saint‑Petersburg International Film Festival and Best Film at the Experimental Dance & Music Festival’s March 2022 Dance Festival.
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Above ‘Crying on the Island They Own’ (dir. Joan Dwiartanto, 2022)
A green field Dwiartanto passed by while on the way to film something else set it all in motion. “There’s no grass here, except for Central Park,” she says of Manhattan. “So when I saw this pure green grass, I just felt like I had to do something here.” The fact that this field in the middle of urbanised Manhattan felt so much like an insular bubble lent itself naturally to Dwiartanto’s idea of how the 1 per cent “live in a world so entirely removed from the rest of us”.
Questioning the behaviours of the upper echelon, the resulting film features dancers representing the rich moving in aggressively and robotically towards one another over a gilded table with no food on it—all perceived by a waiter character, whose status as an outsider throws the toxic behaviours of the 1 per cent into relief. What stands out in eight‑and‑a‑half tightly realised minutes is Dwiartanto’s narrative instinct in her choreography and direction, making the expression of her meaning beautiful and crystal clear.
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When it comes to dance films, the experience lives on. The way you wanted that experience stays the same—and I think that’s beautiful.
Above Joan Dwiartanto, self-portrait. Dwiartanto has been dancing since she was three, and has only recently found her love of filmmaking
Joan Dwiartanto, self-portrait. Dwiartanto has been dancing since she was three, and has only recently found her love of filmmaking
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Dwiartanto has been dancing since she was three, but only made the decision to commit to a career in dance when she entered the School of the Arts Singapore (Sota), where she trained from age 13. “When I joined Sota, I got a taste of what it was like to put so much time, thought and investment into [an] art form that I couldn’t imagine doing anything else,” she shares. Her passion and drive in dance was eventually recognised by the admissions directors at The Juilliard School, one of the most prestigious performing arts schools in the world, working with the likes of James Whiteside (principal dancer at the American Ballet Theatre) and Justin Peck (acting resident choreographer of New York City Ballet).
Having spent more than half her life in arts schools, comparing herself to other dancers and struggling for validation have been recurring saboteurs in her career. “Every time I go to an audition and get rejected, I get the feeling of, ‘I’m not good enough for you either’,” she says. But the one piece of advice she treasures the most came from Andrea Miller, the renowned choreographer and founder of multidisciplinary organisation Gallim, who was then a guest teacher at Juilliard.
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Above New York-based dancer and filmmaker Joan Dwiartanto (Photo: Crispian Chan)
New York-based dancer and filmmaker Joan Dwiartanto (Photo: Crispian Chan)
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“[She said that] our love for dance is a little bit like a campfire,” Dwiartanto recalls. “It’s [our] job to blow on it, to keep adding wood to reactivate it. And so it serves [us] the more [we] serve it.” It brings to mind the etymology of the word “passion”, which comes from the Latin “pati”—to suffer. Far from falling into the cliché of the artist suffering for their art, Dwiartanto’s persistence is a testament to her dedication, marked by her love of the rejuvenating qualities of the creative process. “I realised that all the things that made me love dance are things that I do have to work on. It’s just remembering that it’s my job to find the flame.”
Dwiartanto, who is currently a freelance dancer in New York, has exciting things lined up. A recipient of the Juilliard Career Advancement Fellowship, she intends to use the grant on new film projects next year, as well as some dance productions that will have to remain under wraps for now. “With any performing art, we’ve accepted that the experience of your performance is done the moment you’re done,” she says. “But when it comes to dance films, the experience lives on. The way you wanted that experience stays the same—and I think that’s beautiful.”
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Ethan Kan was Tatler Singapore’s dining writer.
