Conflicts and reconciliations
Taiwanese art eluded our attention for far too long. While everyone knew Van Gogh and Monet, few could name any native artists. “I often tell people that in a very real sense, we are strangers in our own land,” says art historian and curator Lin Chen-ching, who is an associate researcher at the National Taiwan Museum of Fine Arts.
The neglect of Taiwanese art has to do with major politico-historical transitions in the last century. Modern Taiwanese art has its origins in the Japanese colonial era (1895–1945). Its development, however, was interrupted after World War II by the arrival of the Kuomintang (KMT) government, which brought with it an entirely different cultural regime. The clash of cultures led to an enduring rupture in the Taiwanese people’s collective memory.
While the Japanese colonial government had promoted nihonga (post-Meiji-era Japanese-style painting), after WWII the officially endorsed art form became Chinese ink-wash painting. Different ethnicities had very different languages, cultures, and aesthetic tastes. Pressure from the authoritarian government, coupled with the arrival of historic treasures originally housed in the Forbidden City in Beijing, relegated Taiwanese art to the shadows. Bereft of opportunities to develop their careers, most local artists born in the Japanese era were left artistically voiceless.
To obtain a better understanding of that age, we visit pioneering artist Shaih Lifa (b. 1938), who went to university during the early years of KMT rule in Taiwan. At that time, he recalls, artists born on the Chinese mainland utterly dominated officially sponsored artistic events. “But China had just undergone a revolution, the ravages of regional warlords, and eight years of war with Japan. The people had been busy fleeing war and seeking shelter. How could they have had the leisure to paint? In Western painting, sketching is seen as a basic skill, but sketching takes up a great deal of time. Though the war also affected Taiwan, the Japanese valued art education and employed painters such as Kinichiro Ishikawa [1871–1945] and Tōho Shiotsuki [1886–1954] to teach in high schools. Hence many Taiwanese painters were convinced that mainland Chinese painters were not properly trained.”
“Nevertheless, Sun Duoci [1912–1975], one of my teachers, was an exception. She was a student of Xu Beihong [1895–1953]. Xu had studied in France, and Sun had a solid grounding in sketching. At that time, painters from different cultural backgrounds rarely interacted with each other. Sun often served as an intermediary [between mainland and Taiwanese-born artists]. She never judged anybody by their identity or social status, and would often ask: ‘Why do we have to make these distinctions?’ Once she told us that there were three Taiwanese painters who were very accomplished, although they were not famous. I later found out that she meant Chin Jun-tso [1922–1983], Lee Tze-fan [1907–1989], and Xiao Rusong [1922–1992].”
“When I was in my third year at university [1957], the government held a national art exhibition. This was mainly for mainland-Chinese-born entrants, and the convener was Sun Duoci. Wishing to break the deadlock, however, she invited both the Ton Fan Group—which consisted primarily of mainland-born painters—and Taiwanese-born artist Yuyu Yang [Yang Yingfeng, 1926–1997] to select the artworks. She did this in order to make a real change.”
Shaih’s words shed light on the conflicts and reconciliations between different population groups in Taiwan after WWII.
Veteran curator Lin Chen-ching has staged numerous exhibitions on Taiwan’s pioneering artists.
Pioneering artist Lin Hsin-yueh (b. 1939) specializes in painting Taiwanese landscapes and animals. Characterized by their grandeur and gorgeous colors, some of his works are on permanent display in important national venues, including the Presidential Office Building. (photo by Kent Chuang)