For Freddy, this year’s edition represents an important milestone. Having realised that Helsinki had long hosted outdoor celebrations for several other Asian cultures, he was surprised that Taiwan had never had one of its own. Rather than simply repeating last year’s successful indoor festival, the ambition became to create something larger and more accessible for everyone. “Instead of making another indoor metal festival, maybe let’s try to expand it,” he explained. “While continuing to have good music, let’s try to do something different and have an outdoor fair.”

That vision extends far beyond the music itself. Since moving to Finland, Freddy admitted he unexpectedly discovered a passion for cooking, driven largely by missing Taiwanese food. That personal experience made him realise that cuisine can become just as meaningful an introduction to Taiwan as any concert. He smiled while imagining Finnish families wandering through the market, children taking part in activities while parents enjoy music and local food, creating exactly the kind of relaxed atmosphere he and his own family have enjoyed at similar cultural festivals around Helsinki. It is, in many ways, Taiwan introducing itself not through politics or history, but through everyday experiences people can immediately connect with.

Music nevertheless remains at the heart of that mission. Earlier this year Freddy joined Helsinki-based band Taiwania for acoustic reinterpretations of several Chthonic songs during the Helsinki Travel Fair, a collaboration that will return at this year’s Formosa:Finland:Fest. Rather than simply performing stripped-down versions of familiar material, he described the project as a genuine creative exchange. Hearing traditional instruments reshape songs he originally wrote has allowed him to rediscover them from an entirely new perspective. “I can still remember how I enjoyed the practice with them,” he recalled. “When I heard how they reinterpret them in the band room… it was really something.” Even now, he eagerly anticipates every rehearsal, curious to hear what new ideas Taiwania will bring to the arrangements.

Looking back at last year’s festival, Freddy fondly remembered one moment above all others. Following Chthonic‘s performance, a short Finnish-language greeting he delivered from the stage unexpectedly spread across social media, finding its way to metal fans around the world. Friends from the United States sent him Reddit threads discussing the clip, turning what had simply felt like a natural introduction into a small viral moment. It became another reminder that genuine connections often happen when least expected.

As the conversation shifted beyond the festival itself, Freddy offered perhaps the interview’s most personal reflection. Asked where his characteristic optimism comes from—particularly at a time when so much public discourse seems driven by division rather than cooperation—he admitted that optimism is not something that has come easily. Years of activism, politics and public life have inevitably brought disappointment, frustration and failure. Music, however, has always provided the balance. “When I feel sad, angry or frustrated, I play music loud,” he said. “Sometimes I even cry while writing music.” Rather than allowing those emotions to consume him, songwriting has become a way of transforming them into something meaningful. “Those artistic parts of me… help me move in a positive direction,” he reflected, describing creativity not simply as self-expression, but as the emotional foundation that allows him to keep moving forward.

That naturally led to one of the interview’s strongest discussions: the relationship between art and politics. Freddy argued that while politics often focuses on convincing people what the right decision is, art reaches something much deeper. “Politicians always debate what’s the right thing to do,” he observed. “But art can help people think about why it matters.” Whether through music, films or literature, stories create empathy before they ever ask people to take a position. They encourage people to care first, making inspiration far more powerful than persuasion alone.

To illustrate that point, Freddy reflected on his own journey. His support for LGBTQ+ rights did not begin because of a politician, campaign or lecture, but through watching films that portrayed people’s struggles and everyday lives. Those stories encouraged him to ask himself what kind of person he wanted to be and whether he could contribute to making life better for others. For him, that remains one of art’s greatest strengths: it doesn’t tell people what to think, it helps them understand why something deserves to matter.

Bringing the conversation back to Formosa:Finland:Fest, Freddy explained that he hopes visitors leave with much more than pleasant memories of food or live performances. His greatest wish is that someone discovers a Taiwanese band, takes an album home, shares a song with friends and starts exploring Taiwan’s culture on their own. “I’d be more excited to see people sharing Taiwanese music with their friends than giving them a lecture about why Taiwan matters,” he smiled. “If you want to encourage and inspire people, you need to share the story of Taiwan. Music is a very important platform to do that.”

As the interview drew to a close, it became clear that everything Freddy had spoken about—whether discussing festivals, family, music or diplomacy—was connected by the same underlying belief. Lasting understanding doesn’t begin with speeches or political arguments. It begins with curiosity. A shared meal. A memorable concert. A song someone can’t stop listening to on the way home. Judging by the goosebumps he admitted still feeling at the thought of people discovering Taiwanese music for the first time, there may be no greater reward than seeing that first spark of curiosity turn into a genuine connection.

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