Some readers may be surprised by our choice of the phrase "on a roll" in the title of one of our cover story articles this month. But we feel that it sums up the open and lively development of the arts in the ROC over the last decade.
In the past 10 years, the creative arts have developed towards pluralism, and such activities as performance art, formerly almost unknown in Taiwan, have appeared, delighting some people and shocking others.
Artistic concepts which took half a century to develop in the West have made their entry into Taiwan in the space of just a decade. But art workers here are no longer simply hurrying along in others' footsteps; they now have their own ideas and the ability to make their own choices.
Furthermore, the growing numbers of public and commercial art galleries have brought a proliferation of exhibitions, and the talent of the new generation of young painters now on display has aroused greater public interest in the arts, and made visiting art exhibitions fashionable.
A widening choice of media and, since the lifting of martial law, the disappearance of taboos as to the subject matter of works of art, have given free scope to artistic expression. And as minds have opened, artists have had the chance on the one hand to develop an international understanding of art, and on the other to direct their creativity and concern towards the land in which they were born and bred.
In this rich, diverse atmosphere, in which anything is possible, art in Taiwan really is "on a roll"!
Why are we devoting so much space to introducing the current state of the arts in Taiwan? Wouldn't political news attract more readers? Wouldn't economic reports be more down-to-earth?
It is because we believe the value of art lies in its power to illuminate the human soul. This makes examining the arts an avenue by which one can explore a nation or country in depth.
In the aftermath of the Second World War, Japan's international standing had sunk to an all-time low. What reversed this trend and reawakened people's interest in the country was not economics or trade, but the films of Akira Kurosawa.
What magical power do cinema and art possess? Can they change a person or nation's view of another person or nation? We invite you to first read our feature, and then to enjoy the works of the current crop of artists yourself.
At the end of last year Sinorama reported on Mother Chen Chou of Puli,who raises money to help people in need by selling glutinous rice dumplings and rice cakes. Not long afterwards we received a letter bearing neither the name nor the address of the sender, but containing a red envelope full of US dollars, along with the request that we pass it on to Chen Chou.
As we passed this heartwarming gift from afar around the office, one of our photographers exclaimed, "Let's get a picture of this as a souvenir!" We not only took the picture, but now we are printing it too, both to let the sender know that his or her gift has been safely passed on, and in expression of our deep gratitude.
When we report on figures like Chen Chou, our writers are often torn between a reluctance to "deify" the people we present and the wish to tell their moving story in full. Finding the right balance is not easy. When interviewing Chen Chou and her devoted followers, what impressed us most was not just their actions, but also the inexhaustible vitality we discovered among ordinary local people.
This kind of boundless charity and compassion, whether drawn out by a single individual or by a group of people, gradually creates local movements of great power. These are not famous personalities, but often religious workers or simply old ladies who have won the respect of local people. They do not seek fame or fortune; what they care about is whether they can find ways to help even more people.
For us, this is reason enough to believe that there is still hope for this land of ours.