Looking through the more than 300 letters her dad sent to her in France, Tchen Yu-hsiou is reminded that her father, who was educated in Japanese during the occupation era, had to look up every Chinese character one by one in a dictionary in order to write to her.
Having a professor of fine arts for a father and a music teacher for a mother, Tchen Yu-hsiou showed talent in both these areas from an early age. Crowned as a child prodigy, she went abroad to study and make her way in the world of music.
Tchen admits that in fact the drudgery of practice made her want to give up music. Her father, who always respected his children's opinions, did not oppose his daughter's decision. For two years, Tchen did not play regularly, and was freed of the demands of daily practice. It was only after hearing a pianist from abroad play a Chopin piece that Tchen was again instilled with the desire to return to the world of music.
Though her mother taught little Yu-hsiou piano, her father never formally taught her painting at all. "My father has always felt that children's painting cannot be taught, and he opposed my mother giving me a lot of fine arts instructional materials which he thought would, in fact, drag down any talent I had."
During the ten years that Tchen Yu-hsiou studied abroad, Chen Hui-kun visited France four times. At those times, Tchen would move out of the dormitory and live in a rented house with her father. During her free time, she kept her father company while he wandered around sketching and visiting museums. Chen wasn't one who only talked about his love for his children; he also showed it through his actions. For example, he always washed his own clothes by hand rather than take time away from his daughter's practicing.
And when it was time to return to Taiwan, he insisted on cleaning up the rented house and terminating the rental himself. Chen's devotion for his daughter also included sending her back to her dorm before going to the airport by himself, all to save her from the sadness that would go along with closing up the rented house after her father's departure.
Chen normally respected his children's wishes, except when he learned that his daughter wanted to marry Lu Hsiu-yi, a democracy activist and later legislator for the then-opposition Democratic Progressive Party. Chen, who had been through the White Terror, feared that Yu-hsiou would have a rough ride ahead if she married Lu. But she disregarded her father's objections and went ahead with the wedding. When the couple returned to Taiwan, Lu was worried that Chen would bear a grudge. But then one day, when they were out together, as Lu began to pay for the cab fare, Chen said simply, "That's not necessary. We're family."
It was only then that Lu knew Chen had accepted him. Later, when Lu first participated in a legislative election, Chen sold some paintings to raise money for the campaign. When Lu was imprisoned for his Taiwan independence views, Chen never engaged in any recriminations with the daughter who had defied his wishes, but took responsibility for getting his granddaughter to and from school and helped care for his daughter's family.
Tchen Yu-hsiou has been basking in the warmth of her father's love all her life. She recalls, "Father always works hard, has the courage to face facts, and loves everyone." Thinking back on her father's total support, Tchen cannot resist lapsing into a little-girlish tone of voice as she paraphrases an old children's song: "My father is really great."
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Chen is an academician in spirit. In order to get the sense of a downhill incline just right, he travelled to the same spot in Tanshui annually for eight years doing works which he then measured against one another. The result is the well known "The Descent, Tanshui" series.
The Descent 1960 Gouache on paper (now in the collection of the Taipei Museum of Fine Arts)
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Fanning through an art magazine, the 95-year-old Chen has trouble recalling the name of an artist, so his wife, Chuang Chin-chih, hurries over to help out. It is evident feelings still run deep in this marriage. (photo by Pu Hua-chih)
