In his cacophonous workshop, Lin Liang-tsai, wearing working clothes and safety boots, toils alongside four young assistants who hold the hot bronze plate for him with tongs. I see Lin beat the metal so hard with a huge hammer that his assistants lose their grip and drop it. Not wanting to be outdone, one of the assistants, just in his twenties, tries his hand with the big hammer, but is exhausted after only three blows. The strength required for the sculptor's everyday work astonishes the onlooker. Where does this tall, slim, gray-haired man find the stamina to create such imposing works? Smiling, he writes down: "My strength comes from my work!"

Little Daughter, 1997, iron      Lin's lively and healthy younger daughter is nearly three years old, and often sings to him. Her innocent charm is depicted in this work.

Lip reading and sign language

This now quite famous deaf sculptor has a marvelous story to tell. In 1947, Lin was born deaf in the town of Erhlin in Changhua County. As a child, he used his hands to express himself and communicate with his family. Training in sign language was almost unknown in Taiwan in those days, so he expressed himself as best he could using only body movements. As a result, he was often teased by other children and suffered terrible loneliness.

Despite Lin's disability, his father tried hard to give him a good education. At age ten, he was sent to a school for the deaf and blind in Tainan, and he started using a hearing aid to help him learn how to read lips. After three months, so it would be easier for his family to look after him, he was transferred to a similar type of school in Fengyuan. But at first, because they used only sign language, his father went to school with him and interpreted. The school also helped by providing three sign-language teachers to assist with his studies.

At school Lin grew especially interested in physics and chemistry. In the chemistry lab, he had usually started the experiment before the teacher finished the sign-language introduction. Once he mixed chemicals incorrectly and they exploded. Now he touches his slightly crooked nose--the result of that explosion.

Lin loved painting and often represented his school in competitions. He graduated from senior high at the top of the school, and was recommended for the National Taiwan College of Arts in their Western Art faculty. This honor began his transition from special education into the mainstream system.

Man, 1990, bronze      Lin began experimenting with bronze and copper plate to depict the structure of the human body after he returned to Taiwan from Belgium in 1990.

Guidance from nature

During three years at art college, he had the privilege of being taught by many well-known masters: he learned oil painting from Yang San-lang, Liao Chi-chun and Li Mei-shu; he studied watercolors under Li Tse-fan and sketching from Hung Jui-lin. Lin was strongly influenced by Liao, who specialized in figure painting in the style of Fauvism, with its wild, explosive lines and strong, colors. In his subsequent work, Lin largely focused on figure painting.

To make a living after graduating, he and his classmates worked together doing "export paintings." This type of work was quite common in Taiwan during the 1970s. The idea was to replicate famous paintings and sell them to overseas buyers, earning valuable foreign exchange for the developing nation. From 1972 on, Lin spent about eight years doing his "export paintings," often toiling at the canvas till midnight. But whenever he had a bit of free time, he would take his canvas outdoors to do a little plein-air painting of his own.

In his early days, Lin was immersed in a realistic style, depicting Taiwanese landscapes with an almost photographic quality. His talent for this type of art was a development from his hobby since childhood of sketching the natural world.

Says Lin, "I was drawn to art, not by anything inside myself, but by nature." At age 30 he made up his mind to become a professional painter, and changed his painting style from realistic to abstract. Creating and structuring beautiful works in layer upon layer of oil paint provided a newfound means of expression of his love for life.

He also became fascinated by a new interest--antiques. In his free time he wandered around antique shops spying out bargains, and was able to train his senses in evaluating the genuine article. Later on, what had begun as a hobby became a way to make a living while studying abroad.

Although leading a busy life doing his export paintings, searching for antiques and trying to advance his professional career, he wanted to go abroad to see the world, especially Paris, the international city of art. When he told his family of his plans, his mother was amazed. Her son was deaf and unable to speak, so how he could he possibly survive overseas alone? Eventually, Lin was able to realize his dream through a chance meeting with a complete stranger--from France.

The Pregnant Dance, 1997, iron      Lin uses body language effectively to depict the character of the human figure. Here he portrays the trim figure of a friend, a dancer who was pregnant but still busily rehearsing.

Grasping opportunity

In 1979, Lin and a couple of his deaf friends were meeting in a cafe in Taipei's Nungan Street. By chance he encountered Jacques Camille Picoux, formerly a lecturer at the University of Paris VII. Because of his love of Eastern culture, Picoux had come to National Taiwan University as an exchange lecturer to teach languages.

Says Picoux, "I like making friends, and I saw this group communicating with their hands, so I was curious and said hello. After few days, Lin got someone to call and say he wanted to learn French." Picoux was fascinated by the idea of a deaf and speech-impaired person wanting to learn a foreign language. "I warned him it would be too difficult. But whatever objection I raised, he would present the solution. He was so insistent that eventually I was persuaded."

Picoux agreed to be Lin's teacher, but he was concerned because he had no inkling of how one communicates with a deaf person. Lin gave him a book on sign language, clearly implying he should learn it. Says Picoux, "I'm left-handed, so when I looked at the pictures in the book, I was confused about which hand to use. My right hand is not very agile, so my attempts at sign language were often a confused mess. To make matters worse, my Chinese writing was less than expert." Fortunately, Lin proved himself a keen and able student, and after just two months was writing simple sentences in French.

After three years of study, Picoux started to help Lin with applications to French art schools, writing letters of recommendation for him. But to Lin's great frustration, the colleges strictly refused to accept students over age 27. So they wrote to the Royal Arts College of Brussels in Belgium. They too had an age limit, but seeing value in Lin's work, and impressed by his ambition, they broke the rules to accept his application.

Lin's wife, Chang Chieh (right), is his window to the world of sound. Having to communicate with each other by writing does not limit their mutual understanding.

Eyes in place of ears

In 1984, Lin at the grand old age of 38 was preparing to go to Belgium to study, causing quite a stir in the Taiwanese media. He held an exhibition of his paintings to help with his tuition fees. In Belgium, the college had no special facilities for deaf students, making study extremely difficult. I asked him how he managed in classes. He wrote down his reply: "My classmates took notes for me. Thankfully most classes focused on the creative aspects of art, so although I couldn't hear the lecturer, I could sense the ideas that were being discussed." Lin's professor and tutor also encouraged him to "use his eyes as his ears."

Lin majored in oil painting, and after a year's study was invited to hold an exhibition in Brussels. However, by 1985 he had made a courageous decision to change direction, taking up sculpture despite an almost total lack of experience in that discipline. Says Lin, "The artist cannot remain in the same old groove. I needed to continually challenge myself to reach the peak of my abilities." While in Europe he visited many art galleries. Art both brought comfort and expanded his perspective. In particular, the rich and varied possibilities of working in three-dimensions fascinated him, so he decided to explore further the secrets of the cubic art.

Lin became strongly influenced by the works of French impressionist sculptor Auguste Rodin and Italian painter Amedeo Modigliani. Rodin's figure sculptures reveal a sense of courage and fortitude that transcend the limitations of humanity, and also a sense of self-contradiction, conflict, struggle and reflection on life. Modigliani favored figure painting, his dynamic fluent lines depicting the many moods of the female body. Lin loves this style which puts no limits on proportion or perspective. By exaggerating the proportions of the body, Modigliani fashioned works with a uniquely elegant charm, that strongly influenced Lin's own creative ideas.

Sculptor Lin Liang-tsai uses cast iron and bronze or copper plate as the materials of his art to overcome his confinement to a world of silence. His artworks invite people into his tranquil world, and allow them to hear the voice of his heart.

Tempering and rusting

Moving into works of sculpture, Lin experimented with the possibilities of different types of material, but eventually cast iron became his favorite.

Says Lin, "Cast iron has a similar character to people: the passing of time produces a multiplicity of qualities and textures." He loves especially the process of rusting, whereby the smooth surface gradually transmutes into many-colored layers of disintegrating material. When rusty pink shades into red-orange, the surface of the work blushes with a soft warmth.

Cast iron as a sculpting material has its problems. The artist has to suffer the strident scream of metal being cut, and the beating, twisting and welding requires considerable resilience. For most artists, the noise and other difficulties of turning a lump of metal into a work of art are too much, but for Lin, deafness seems a special gift from God. Because he hears nothing of the din around him, he is better able to concentrate on his work.

At nearly 40 he began learning the new skills of cutting and welding iron plate. The stress turned his hair gray and his eyesight suffered. His eyes have been burned by sparks of red-hot metal. He's been hit by a flying lump of iron, and the skin of his hands and arms has been repeatedly scorched. He has damaged the ligaments in his thumb by using incorrect technique to wield the huge hammers needed to shape his chosen materials. But despite the injuries, his creative work continues.

In the early days of his metalwork, Lin tried an iron bell as his subject. Contending is set outdoors and relies on the wind to move a series of metal wires which swing in the breeze and strike the bell. The movement of different combinations of wires produces different sounds, revealing a surprising interest in the (to Lin) foreign concept of sound.

He savors the possibilities of using iron bars to reinforce and enhance the structure of the subject. Life Struggle, created in 1988, uses simple iron plates to depict complete human figures. The inner spaces of the body are represented by metal rods, which seem to imply an augmentation of the body's inner strength. One figure is standing, face upturned toward the sky; another kneels with both hands on the ground. The figures exude a feeling of deep strength. The iron rods continue and draw out the curvature of the iron plate, producing a spatial communication between the various elements of the work.

In Drunken Dance, from 1989, an even simpler structure is employed. Works of this period no longer depict the whole body, but emphasize the lower parts, ignoring the head, hands and chest. The human figure is represented simply and lightly, but with a dynamistic force.

In 2001, through the generous support of specialist facilities provided by Lee Hung-ta (right), head of United ProArc Corporation, Lin eventually realized his dream to enlarge a number of his sculptures. The Lovers, standing behind them, is the augmented work, now four meters high.

Return to Taiwan

During his six years study in Europe, Lin toiled almost without break. He worked on his sculptures by day and painted in his attic at night. To earn a living and pay his fees, he took salon photographs for magazines or went to second-hand markets in search of antiques to sell to teachers and friends. In 1989 he graduated from the Royal Arts College at the top of his class, gaining the Royal Arts Academy Award, and some of his works were collected by the Art Gallery of Brussels. In 1990 he was selected to create a European monument, The Torch of Democracy, to commemorate the first anniversary of the 1989 Tiananmen Square events in China. Lin and his creation were highly praised by the Belgian art community.

A Belgian college offered him an appointment as an assistant lecturer, and he considered extending his stay in Europe, but eventually decided to return to Taiwan. He had not heard from his eldest brother for several years (they had always been very close), and he was wondering how he was. On his return to Taiwan, however, he discovered that his brother had died three years after he left for Europe. His family had kept the news from him as they were concerned about the effect it might have on his work. No wonder that every time Lin had asked a friend to call his brother for him, his niece would answer the call. After discovering the truth, he had no further desire for travel and decided to stay in Taiwan for the time being.

Around this time he started using bronze and copper plate to shape human figures. He made use of the slight concave and convex shapes of the plate, as well as surface ripples, to suggest the natural swell of human muscles. The style of Man from 1990 possesses the solidity and character of stone rather than metal, revealing a natural variability and vitality. Lin's skill in matching the rich hues of the heated metal enhances the work's structural complexity.

While he was fully engrossed in creating art, he met his future wife, a woman who had similar interests in art and antiques.

Life Struggle, 1988, iron sheet/iron --- rod One figure stands, face turned skyward; another kneels with both hands touching the ground. The work evinces a deep feeling of strength.

A couple of daughters

The delicately pretty Chang Chieh recalls: "When we first met, he had just come back to Taiwan. Whenever he visited any sort of art exhibition, he would come back to my store and discuss (in writing) the state of the art world. He thought the arts in Taiwan were in a bad way, mainly because advertising work was far more attractive to artists than art itself." Chang believes that at that time, Lin was eager to go back Europe as soon as he could, but Cupid's arrow struck in Taiwan, and there he stayed.

After they married, Chang helped her husband manage his many interests. But fate played a cruel trick on the couple--Lin became a father at age 45, but their first daughter was born deaf, like her father. Lin had been always positive and courageous in confronting the challenges fate had dealt him, but when he learned of his daughter's condition, for the first time, the suffering that comes from being profoundly deaf wreaked a sadness impossible to describe. He writes of his daughter's disability: "If deafness prevents you learning to speak, it is so difficult to live and find a place in society." When Lin was young, he missed the opportunity to learn to lipread. It wasn't too late for his daughter to learn, but opportunities for that sort of education for deaf preschool children are rare in Taiwan, so his wife teaches the daughter herself.

Now, their elder daughter can lipread and speak with fluency. She has also inherited Lin's talent and interest in art and is studying fine arts. The second daughter has no hearing problems, and is keen to become a movie star. She is nearly three years old and often sings to Lin. Although he cannot hear her voice, the innocence of children and the contentment Lin derives from being a father is beautifully depicted in his Little Daughter.

Contemplating the End, 1996, copper              Lin hammered and cut a smooth copper plate to symbolize the coarse and fragmented face of tempered human life.

The essence of mind

The Lin family now live in Tanshui, enjoying their reliance on each other and their close family relationship. Says Chang, "Family support is crucial for a professional artist like Lin, or the frustrations of his situation could easily drag him into despair and destroy his confidence." With his family's support and encouragement, Lin's art is showing a different side of him from the work he did in Belgium. There was an emphasis there on impatience, struggle and the vicissitudes of life. But his work today exhibits a sense of the softness and pleasure of a successful relationship, as well as an interest in ideas of incompleteness and imperfection, a common thread of Eastern philosophy.

Lin's early sculptures had almost no facial expression, as if he was somehow timid about expressing his own feelings. But ten years ago he was introduced to Buddhism, became a follower of Master Sheng Yen, and started to practice meditation. Today his deep understanding of Buddhist doctrines have made him happy to accept his deafness, and have transformed and sublimated his disability into an important element of his art. His works in this new period reveal an inner humility and understanding of karma, rather than the physical strength and beauty depicted by action and posture in his earlier work.

In Contemplating the End, the bridge of the nose is hollowed out, the mouth tightly shut, and the eyes almost closed, expressing through facial expression alone a deep understanding of the ways of the world. For Lin, the concave and fragmentary nature of the face contrasts weakness with firmness, perfection with imperfection. He says, "The origin of all suffering lies in the fact that people don't affirm their self-essence. With a doubtful mind, how can one clearly see the true nature of the human world?" By hammering and cutting the smooth iron plate into rough and uneven ways, the artist unveils the truth of a tempered life--a life in which hardship is faced and eventually overcome.

Lin's art has always explored human beings and their lives. He examines both the inner mind and outer appearance, and can depict any aspect of the human figure or experience. "Artists should live normal lives. No life experience means no real art," says Lin. As he "speaks" to me, his fervent belief in both his words and human love is clear. His pen pierces the paper as he writes.

Jacques Camille Picoux (right) had come to NTU from France as a language lecturer. A chance meeting between Picoux and Lin (left) led to their becoming teacher and student. This meeting was the beginning of the realization of Lin's dream.

Opportunity knocks again

Lee Song-tay, former head of research at the Taiwan Museum of Art, believes Lin's figure sculptures provide a sense of perfectly balanced connection between past and future eternity. "In his soundless world, he depends entirely on his sense of sight when confronting changes to the environment and the passage of time. He captures the most perfect posture by observing change during action, and by depicting this change with proper regard for the existence of time. The most beautiful aspect of his work is that he can express pleasure, anger, sadness and happiness from posture alone, without having to recast the facial expression." The Pregnant Dance is a perfect example. The idea for this sculpture came from a friend, a dancer with the Cloud Gate Dance Theater. While pregnant she still busily taught and rehearsed, her neat figure entirely subverting the traditional image of the pregnant woman.

Due to the limitations of his workplace, most of Lin's works were quite small, made from 0.2-centimeter iron and copper plate. Seven years ago, Lee Hung-ta, head of United ProArc Corporation, saw a TV report on Lin's work and made a special trip to call on him. Says Lee, "The modern welding techniques used in industry are highly complex and difficult to master. Amazingly, Lin has explored many of these techniques and uses them competently in his art. I'm not sure whether he did it by genius or just by sheer hard work."

The ability to create larger sculptures has always been Lin's greatest dream. With plasma cutting machines and TIG and MIG welding facilities provided by Lee, in 2001 he moved into ProArc's factory in Pingchen, Taoyuan County. There, he was able to enlarge his old sculpture The Lovers into a huge work four meters high, constructed from 0.6-centimeter copper plate.

Seeing the silence

The Lovers is structured as two walking legs. From the front, one leg appears steady and dependable, while the other leans toward it. The gentle luster and warmth of the copper evokes lovers "walking together through life." But from the side, the thick copper plate appears sharp and straight, cutting forcefully upwards. One senses a firm determination to remain with each other through thick and thin, fearlessly facing the drama of life to the end.

This marvelous work premiered at Germany's Essen Welding Exhibition in 2005. ProArc set up a special area for Lin to create his sculptures and show them on the spot. His display was a surprising one for many of the visitors, and scored kudos for Taiwanese technology and art. In November 2006, The Lovers has been invited to show at the Gold Coast in Australia.

Lin uses all his available senses to observe the spice and variety of human life. Each piece of metal is hammered, twisted, and given a life of its own. His art brings people into the screaming noise of his silent world. It also carves and shapes the breadth and texture of his own life.