The late afternoon sun casts long shadows across Harbourfront Centre’s outdoor stage as Ginalyn Banaag adjusts her bamboo hat. Behind her, the waters of Lake Ontario shimmer—a fitting backdrop for someone about to share stories of islands and seafaring peoples thousands of miles away.
“My grandmother taught me this dance when I was seven,” she tells me, demonstrating a graceful movement that mimics waves. “In the Philippines, we have over 7,000 islands. The sea connects everything—our stories, our food, our music.”
Banaag is one of dozens of artists preparing for this weekend’s “Islands in Dialogue” festival—a free, three-day cultural celebration highlighting the rich traditions of Taiwan and the Philippines at Harbourfront Centre. The festival marks the first collaboration between Toronto’s Taiwanese and Filipino communities on this scale, revealing surprising connections between cultures separated by the South China Sea but united by maritime histories.
Walking through the venue as performers rehearse, I notice the careful choreography of space. Colorful parol star lanterns hang alongside elaborate paper cut-outs. The scent of fried banana lumpia mingles with the aroma of Taiwanese pineapple cakes being prepared for weekend visitors.
“These are island cultures with deep relationships to water, migration, and resilience,” explains festival curator Maria Santos. “When we started planning, we discovered so many fascinating parallels—from musical instruments to culinary techniques.”
The timing feels particularly significant. Both communities have growing diasporas in Toronto, with approximately 250,000 Filipinos and 50,000 Taiwanese now calling the Greater Toronto Area home, according to Statistics Canada‘s most recent demographic data. Yet their cultural contributions often remain underrepresented in the city’s mainstream arts programming.
For filmmaker Jeffrey Chang, who’s showcasing his documentary about Taiwanese Indigenous fishing practices, the festival represents an important shift. “There’s something powerful about seeing your culture celebrated in public space,” he tells me while adjusting his camera equipment. “Many second-generation kids struggle to connect with their heritage. Festivals like this make those connections visible and valued.”
The weekend program includes traditional dance performances, cooking demonstrations, textile workshops, storytelling sessions, and maritime-themed art installations. Unlike many cultural festivals that focus solely on food and performance, “Islands in Dialogue” deliberately emphasizes the intellectual and artistic achievements of both cultures.
Dr. Elena Mendoza, a cultural anthropologist from York University, notes this approach represents an evolution in how diaspora communities present themselves. “There’s a move away from simplistic ‘food and folklore’ representations toward more complex cultural narratives,” she explains. “These communities are sharing not just what they eat or wear, but how they think, create, and solve problems.”
This complexity is evident in the festival’s centerpiece installation—a collaborative work featuring a traditional Filipino bangka outrigger canoe and a Taiwanese Aboriginal fishing vessel, connected by an intricate network of ropes woven by artists from both communities. The piece symbolizes historical trading relationships that existed long before colonial powers arrived in Southeast Asia.
“Before Spanish colonization in the Philippines and Japanese occupation in Taiwan, these island communities traded freely across the South China Sea,” explains installation artist Ramon Tuazon. “We’re recovering those connections that were interrupted by empire and reclaiming our shared maritime identity.”
The festival also addresses challenging contemporary issues. A panel discussion features environmental activists from both Taiwan and the Philippines discussing how coastal communities are responding to climate change and industrial fishing. Another session explores labor migration between the two countries and Canada.
“We don’t shy away from difficult conversations,” says Santos. “This isn’t just about celebrating beautiful traditions—it’s about understanding how these cultures are living, breathing, and evolving in response to global challenges.”
For families attending, the festival offers numerous interactive opportunities. Children can learn Filipino tinikling bamboo dance or try their hand at Taiwanese shadow puppetry. Cooking demonstrations will teach participants how to prepare dishes like Filipino kinilaw and Taiwanese popcorn chicken—both featuring similar techniques for marinating fish and meat.
“Food tells our migration stories,” says chef Raymond Chiu, who will lead cooking workshops. “When you taste our dishes, you’re experiencing generations of adaptation and innovation.”
What distinguishes this festival from many cultural events is its commitment to highlighting connections rather than just showcasing separate traditions. Each performance, workshop, and installation deliberately draws parallels between Taiwanese and Filipino expressions, revealing centuries of cross-cultural influence that preceded modern national boundaries.
Admission to all events remains free, reflecting organizers’ commitment to accessibility. The festival runs Friday through Sunday, with activities beginning at noon each day and evening performances continuing until 10 p.m.
As twilight approaches during my preview visit, a Filipino kulintang ensemble begins playing their brass gongs alongside Taiwanese musicians with similar instruments. The rhythms intertwine in conversation—sometimes harmonizing, sometimes contrasting, but always responding to each other.
It’s a fitting metaphor for the festival itself: not a mere presentation of separate cultural artifacts, but a dynamic dialogue between peoples connected by water, migration, and resilience. And for one weekend, the shores of Lake Ontario will amplify these island voices, inviting all Torontonians to listen.
