Joining this impressive display of diplomatic and economic might will be a group of prominent Taiwanese ink painters, who will take advantage of the convergence in Panama to show off their new works, giving the world a taste of the past fifty years of Taiwanese ink painting.
"Our wish has always been for Taiwan's ink painting to grow beyond the island and become international," comments painter Chiang Ming-shyan, organizer of the Panama exhibition and member of the Long River Art Group.
Beyond traditional ink painting
The majority of the ten painters of the Long River Art Group were born and raised in Taiwan after the arrival of the Kuo-mintang government in 1949. They are all between the ages of 45 to 55, with 20 to 30 years of experience in ink painting techniques. Despite their differences in style and conception, each displays a strong contemporary character and local color that together represent the diverse state of Taiwanese ink painting today.
In contrast to the subdued quality of traditional ink painting of the Chinese literati, Taiwan's new styles are frequently startling, always shifting and changing: the vibrant yellows of Wang You-chun's "Spring Village," for example, or Yuan Chin-taa's bizarre collages of female figures, or Chiang Ming-shyan's sketch-like modern cities. Some paintings are painted as if the artist was gazing upward at the sky; others as if he was looking down over the earth. Paintings make use of materials as diverse as oil paints, acrylics, Western-style watercolors or Japanese jiaocai, often layered upon the typical water and ink base. When people see these works, they can't help but wondering, "Are these really Chinese ink paintings?"
Are Taiwan's ink painters, behind the ostensibly new look, searching for a new soul? Or are they merely seeking a modern expression for ink painting's classic spirit?
Poet and art critic Lo Ching, the only one of the ten painters born on the mainland, and the only one without a formal art school background, believes that all good art is a living product of the moment. The painter must have a source of inspiration that he can bring to the work before it will be capable of moving the observer.
"Traditional literati landscape paintings are products of agricultural society." Lo points out that, in ancient times, artists lived in the fields and traveled the mountains, rivers and seas. They eventually came to a point where they carried the images of the hills and valleys in their hearts. In today's post-industrial society, however, we are surrounded only by the constructions of science and technology. Thus, if one persists in painting only otherworldly subjects like the "autumn moon on Dongting Lake" or misty mountain temples, how can one capture the attention of a modern audience? Ink painting must learn to adapt to the dramatically new environment of the modern era.
Every stroke has a deeper meaning
Lo Ching notes that, despite recent developments, the aesthetics of Chinese ink painting are still quite different from those of Western oil painting. Apples and oranges each possess their distinctive flavors, and thus, standards for judging apples cannot be applied indiscriminately to oranges. Therefore, one must first have a strong grasp of what ink painting is before trying to "modernize" it. Only then is it possible to avoid forcing apples to become oranges.
Traditional literati ink painting is not merely a branch of Chinese aesthetics, it is a manifestation of the Chinese philosophical mind. Li I-hung, who has earned high praise for his modern ink painting work, quotes a Dutch sinologist, who once observed, "To understand Chinese philosophy, one must first understand Chinese landscape painting." The significance of the floating clouds and hazy mists of an ink painting would often be lost on one who lacks the appropriate understanding of Chinese philosophy. In fact, without that knowledge, one may even feel that all ink paintings look formulaic and repetitive.
After the Five Dynasties (about the tenth century AD), ink painting gradually came to dominate mainstream Chinese drawing and painting. However, ink painting can be traced further back to the great Tang dynasty poet Wang Wei (701-761 AD). In his Treatise on Landscape Painting, Wang Wei wrote, "Ink painting is the highest form of painting." Certain of his lines of poetry-"The Yangtze flows beyond the world, the mountains shimmer in the haze, there and yet not there" or "Walking to where the waters end, sitting and watching the clouds emerge"- are themselves the subtle colors of inked landscapes.
Unfortunately for ink painting, the exquisitely refined painting of the Tang dynasty emphasized meticulous brushwork and strong colors. Thus Wang Wei's black-and-white, impressionistic landscapes, did not receive high praise in his lifetime. However, during the Song dynasty, Chinese painting underwent a shift from "realism" to "impressionism," from "depicting scenes" to "creating scenes." Wang Wei's approach was pulled into the mainstream, thereby laying the foundation for a Chinese aesthetic unique in the world's history of the arts.
The emergence of this new aesthetic was closely related to developments in philosophy at the time. Beginning as early as the Wei-Jin, Northern and Southern dynasties period, due to social paralysis caused by successive years of war and turmoil, China's scholarly elite began to return to the mystical thought of Lao Zi and Chuang Zi. This is present in the rustic poetry of the Jin dynasty's Tao Yuanming-"Picking chrysanthemums by the eastern fence, gazing distantly at the southern mountains"-which depicts a quiet, comfortable lifestyle, free from the worries of worldly matters. In fact, it was precisely during the rise of what was known as Wei-Jin "mountain and river literature" that the spirit of landscape painting began to take shape.
Regard for the spontaneous natural is key to the mysticism of Lao Zi and Zhuang Zi. The dao ("way") of the Daoists is "the dao of nature." According to Lao Zi, tian ("Heaven," "sky," "the world") gave birth to all things, each of which possesses its own deeper meaning. Humans must learn to become one with the world (tian) in order to achieve self-liberation and freedom.
The landscape of the mind
To the Chinese, natural landscapes are more than pieces of scenery, they are also projections of the "inner landscape" of the heart and mind. The Tang dynasty's Du Fu wrote, "The country lies in ruins, yet the mountains and rivers remain; trees and flowers blossom in the city in spring." Chen Yuwang wrote the politically satirical metaphor, "In love with beautiful women, but not the mountains and rivers of the nation." Poets see the mountains and rivers as their nation and family, and often tell their personal stories through the landscape as well. This represents a rather different philosophical system than that of the West, where humans are frequently seen as conquering nature, controlling nature. Even in Western painting, the subject-object split is present in the need for obsessive observation of the natural world.
The Chinese painter's understanding of "water" and "ink" is also related to Daoist thought. As Huang Kuang-nan, Director of the Kaohsiung Museum of Fine Arts and a ink painter himself, points out, Lao Zi is a proponent of the notion that: "The five colors make people blind and the five sounds make people deaf." Influenced by the Daoists' reverence for simplicity, literati painting has traditionally sought a purity of color. It removes color from nature, and instead relies on the concentration or dilution of ink to create its own palette of hues.
Taking landscapes as the traditional subject matter for impressionistic painting did have its downside, however. "There are so many things in the world, so many different human expressions, all of which make excellent subject matter. However, the philosophical framework of literati painting was too weighty; other than landscapes, all other subject matter was seriously ignored," comments Chiang Ming-shyan. He points out that of the classical paintings in the National Palace Museum-regardless of whether they depict the magnificent high-mountains of the Northern Sung, the more somber landscapes from the period prior to the Southern Sung, or the barren mountain scenes of the Yuan dynasty-a full 80% of the paintings are landscapes.
"Landscapes are a kind of symbol of Chinese painting," says Chiang. But as he points out, at some level, it is certainly a pity that the religious scenes, historical events and depictions of everyday living often seen in Western paintings are virtually absent from the Chinese tradition.
Ink painting catches up with the times
To broaden his horizons, Chiang Ming-shyan has begun using architecture for subject matter over the past few years. He has carried his camera around the world, from the mysterious Potala Palace in Tibet, to the cramped skyscrapers of New York's Fifth Avenue, back to the guardian deities of Taiwan's temples. He comments: "Landscapes are soft and beautiful; architecture is hard and forceful. But the style and contrasts created by the Chinese ink and brush can be applied to them both."
The youngest member of the Long River Art Group, Yuan Chin-taa, schooled in modern art in New York City, is also the most willing to subvert tradition and develop new styles.
Yuan Chin-taa painted many temple ceremonies in his early years, as well as festival-like pictures of popular gatherings. Recently, he has expanded his range of subject matter to include marches and demonstrations, political satire and funerals. Once, while out making observations for his work, he was "momentarily scared out of his wits" when he stepped into a two-meter-deep empty grave in a cemetery. On another occasion, he had the awkward experience of "trying to keep from being hit by a crowd of excited demonstrators while standing among them shooting photos." Yuan's water and ink scene of a Tomb Sweeping Festival is modeled on Ming and Qing riverside paintings. He feels that the conflicts of social movements, however, are best captured by the thick, heavy oils of Western painting.
"The demands of this May's demonstrations for the safety of women and children were relatively peaceful. So I'm trying to use ink to bring that out," said Yuan.
Lo Ching, who equally believes that an artist should not divorce himself from ordinary people, is faithful to the traditional landscape, but adds an abundance of contemporary flair. He has created his own "iron net" tsun technique (a painting technique utilizing cracking to represent irregular surfaces), which remains true to ink painting's basic principles of contrast between black and white; however, the sheer strength of his contrasts, the starkness of his strokes and their motley cracking, all suggest the alienation and disorder of post-modern living.
Landscapes of iron and steel
"The ancients gazed distantly at the southern mountains, I gaze frustratedly at the huge buildings," Lo Ching laughs to himself, looking out at the noisy city from the roof of his apartment. It seems that after awhile, even city buildings come to have their own charm. In Lo Ching's portfolio, one finds painting after painting of concrete jungles, iron and steel landscapes. Steel frames, lights, tracks are everywhere. The modern city has been transformed into a chaotic, crisscrossed landscape.
Ink painter and art critic Ho Huai-shuo has pointed out that highly realistic subject matter by no means guarantees that a work of art will reflect the spirit of its time. It seems both awkward and anachronistic to use the type of brushstrokes traditionally reserved for painting wooden structures to paint modern buildings; or to use the style of strokes used to paint birds and flowers to paint cars and airplanes.
Lo Ching agrees on this point. He enjoys painting pines, part of the traditional vocabulary of ink painting. However, he feels that the impact of a contemporary work can be strengthened by contrasting the mechanical rigidity of modern brushstroke styles with a traditional scene, such as that of old pines perched on a hill, rustling in the wind.
In terms of artistic expression, traditional ink paintings have been concerned primarily with conveying the solitary yet self-contented spirit of Lao Zi and Chuang Zi. However, with the rise of knowledge, modern society has gradually come to appreciate even more subtle aspects of the soul. For example, Yuan Chin-taa, influenced by Western psychology, has applied Western expressionist techniques to bring out the complexities of love and desire in his paintings of female nudes. Elements of nightmares and the subconscious are also often present in Lo Ching's work, adding to the already abundant vocabulary of ink painting.
Chinese ink painting-Taiwan style
Taiwan's present generation of ink painters is not only seeking to contemporize traditional ink painting, it is also concerned with capturing Taiwan's own local flavor and color.
"The Taiwanese landscape is distinctive from that of Central China," notes art critic Chuang Po-ho. Taiwan is a subtropical island climate, full of mountains and lush forests. Yen Shen-jer, famous for his paintings of Taiwan's rivers and valleys, says that the different types of terrain and topography in Taiwan each possess their own unique features. The mountains of Taroko Gorge, whose rocks jut out at surprising angles from the soft soil, are an example. Traditional landscape painting methods, such as the use of uniform tsun cracking, cannot adequately depict the contrasts between the softness of the earth and the hardness of the rock at Taroko. The essence of Taiwan's turbulent rivers is also quite hard to capture, and requires substantial experience and observation.
The traditional aesthetics of Chinese ink painting emphasize "impressionism" and "creating the scene," worlds apart from the meticulous accuracy of Western realism. Li I-hung, a former student of master painter Chiang Chao-shen, recalls that when Chiang took his students into field, he simply encouraged them to open up their minds and observe. He did not allow them to make on-the-spot sketches, nor did he assign homework upon returning.
"Being confronted by a beautiful image is like having a poem appear before you. If, at that moment, you have to figure out from what perspective to approach the scene, what objects you want to place in the painting, doesn't that cheapen the artistic inspiration?" says Li I-hung, explaining the philosophy of his teacher.
Yen Shen-jer, another former student of Chiang, agrees that Chinese ink painting focuses on impressionism and not realism. Traditional Western painting, for example, tends to approach the canvas from a single vantage point, painting only what can be seen from that angle and ignoring everything else. Distant objects are diminished, close-up objects are magnified; the Western painter makes every attempt to imbue the flat canvas with a sense of three-dimensionality. Chinese ink painting, on the other hand, approaches the canvas from a kind of "shifting" vantage point. Layer upon layer of mountain ridges overlap across the painting, a thatched hut enclosed by a bamboo fence rests at the mountain base, and a river runs along the summit, flowing off into the distance. Questions of height and distance are irrelevant; everything seems to be encompassed by a single perspective. Even variations in size or brightness of lighting are lacking.
From a strictly scientific point of view, this type of painting is clearly "incorrect"; it is not an "accurate" reflection of the real world. Yet, what appears on the surface as illogical, if viewed from the standpoint of Chuang Zi's "great Peng bird," soaring thousands of miles through the mountains, all seems perfectly natural.
In any case, regardless of whether a deeper philosophical or aesthetic conception lies behind the Chinese approach to composition, or whether the artists of old simply had not mastered certain technical aspects of painting, Taiwan's new generation of ink painters has begun to look to the benefits of modern aesthetics. They have learned to combine the best of East and West, painting in two dimensions or "three," and as a result have created an increasingly eclectic style.
Modernization? Westernization?
Taiwan's ink painters will need to tailor their selection of works for the coming Panama exhibition to the tastes of foreign audiences. "I'll probably select paintings relatively Western in composition and in use of color," says Yen Shen-jer, somewhat reluctantly. He notes that the classic Chinese ink painting artistic idiom, with its vivid moods, uninhibited yet subtle inks and impressionistic approach to nature, is not something that Westerners can simply understand at a glance. Therefore, in order to open doors for a foreign audience, it is necessary to make things accessible.
Ink painters have recently begun to employ more bold colors, a greater amount of Western-style sketching and watercolor techniques, as well as a modern "mixed media" approach in their work. Examples include the use of torn newspaper, collage, spraypainting and large-brush painting techniques, even painting on the non-water-absorbent paper used for Western watercolors instead of traditional Chinese water-absorbent hsuan paper. All of this has, however, has clearly left some art critics with a bitter taste in their mouths.
"When painting with ink, one should take advantages of its unique characteristics," Ho Huai-shuo once wrote. The unique elements of Chinese ink painting lie mainly in the vigor and subtle interplay of the brush work. Thus, rather than trying to create color and texture with ink, it is better to simply use oils. To express a sketch-like quality, use watercolors. For the time being, the final word has yet to be written on how to develop new ink techniques without falling into pointless dabbling.
Actually, because Chinese ink painting has always been an impressionistic art, the rise of modern Western art and the spread of such new schools as Picasso and the Cubists, Matisse and the Fauvists or Miro and the abstract painters has opened up new doors for ink painting. Painters have begun to deconstruct concrete landscapes and experiment with more abstract pieces. Now, looking at a mountain is no longer just "looking at a mountain." Artists are freeing themselves up to a new vitality in their work and a new richness in their ink.
Yuan Chin-taa has an original Miro hanging on the wall of his living room; Li I-Hung's daily pleasure is listening to the sounds of Western classical and jazz music; other painters have the heart to laugh at the fact that they've "never read a single book on Chinese philosophy." This reveals the degree to which the present generation of ink painters have been influenced by Western culture, an influence which has perhaps been stronger than that of their traditional Chinese training since early in their careers.
"A traditional scholar is someone like Chiang Chao-shen, who was studying poetry, literature, seal-carving, music, chess and painting all from a young age. To him, reading the classics and writing are the work of a scholar. Painting is a hobby. When will we ever be able to attain this level of excellence? If we don't explore Western art, make our way on our own, what can we do?" Yen Shen-jer can't argue with his teacher's observation that Yen's career as an artist has been "all over the place" in terms of influence and direction. Yen recalls how he was listening to Western country music some twenty years ago at his first art exhibition. Because the style of work he was showing was so different from what he had painted with his teacher, he didn't have the courage to invite Chiang to the exhibition.
"To be honest, I like relatively modern expressionistic styles. Traditional ink painting is just a source that I draw upon from time to time," explains Yen Shen-jer, obviously already on his way to emerging from his master's shadow.
Waiting for the clouds
The present generation of ink painters is still undergoing a metamorphosis. Although its strivings have produced no small number of impressive works, many of the generation's artists have yet to come completely into their prime-particularly in regard to manifesting the "full human potential" sought by traditional literati ink painting. Many of the most famous painters were 80 to 90 years old before attaining a level of maturity that allowed them to express their deepest sentiments in their work at will. Today's ink painters still have a ways to go before they can claim, according to a traditional expression of mastery in the arts, that "the painter and his work have grown old together." As Lo Ching describes it, it's like a building that's only finished to the fifth or sixth floor-it's not yet complete, but you can clearly see where it's headed."
Li I-Hung, who divides his daily energies among gardening, photography, calligraphy and painting as he sees fit, feels that the older he gets, the more he identifies with his teacher Chiang Chao-shen's philosophy: Take it slow and easy, don't try to force things. Maintaining a healthy mindset is most important.
"Who doesn't hope to someday make a major contribution to painting, or pioneer a new style of Chinese ink? But that depends on your individual talents and abilities, it's not something you can just go out and get." Li says that as soon as he senses the slightest bit of practicality slip into his mind when he's painting-whether it's thinking about getting the right praise, selling a piece for a good price, winning a competition, or whatever-his brush becomes stuck and he can't paint freely. It may sound strange, but, as he says, "There's a ghost in the brush!"
At the end of the eighties, when mainland China began to open up, most of the older artists like Li Keran, who were considered "national treasures," were still major influences in ink painting. At the same time, the middle-aged generation of 50-something mainland painters had not only suffered through the long years of the Cultural Revolution, they were also totally cut off from Western culture. So, regardless of whether they attempted to rediscover their tradition or develop new styles, their ability to do so was fairly limited, particularly when viewed in comparison to the later success of their Taiwan contemporaries. "Taiwanese ink painting must not underestimate itself. If it continues to move forward, it can become a dark horse that makes a lasting impact on the history of ink painting," predicts Chiang Ming-shyan.
"Take it slow and easy, continue to move forward." This phrase not only describes the silent preparation one makes prior to emerging from a cocoon, it is also the attitude with which Taiwan's ink painters must patiently wait out their present period of marginal-ization.
Crisis and turning point
Looking back at the history of ink painting in Taiwan, when the Kuomintang government first came to Taiwan 40 years ago, ink painting, falling under the definition of "traditional Chinese culture," received a privileged place in the arts. It was precisely this status which created the initial support for a new generation of ink painters and later allowed them to flourish. Unfortunately, the recent shift in the political climate toward emphasizing "native" Taiwanese culture has meant that older Taiwanese painters from the Japanese occupation era painting primarily with Western oils and Japanese jiaocai have received more attention of late. Ink painting is considered "sympathizing" with mainland China, and has been derided as an expression of "greater Chinese nationalism" and backward-looking conservatism.
"If you look in the galleries these days, 80% of them are exhibiting oil paintings," says Chiang Ming-shyan. Some galleries also refuse ink painted works on the grounds that they're "not marketable." In fact, the Taipei City Council at one time barred city government institutions from purchasing or collecting ink paintings. Oil paintings presently sell at prices four to five times higher than ink paintings of similar size painted by equally experienced, equally respected artists. Ink paintings have been a part of Taiwan's painting mainstream for 300 of the past 400 years-from the period of immigration during the time of Koxinga in the late Ming dynasty right up to the present. Given this, it is certainly quite ironic that ink painting has suddenly been marginalized by the rise of the new "Taiwanese consciousness."
Today, ink painting faces practical difficulties both domestically, from the present political situation, and internationally, from the spread of Western culture. Modern Western art is king around the globe, and Taiwan's ink painters, between a rock and a hard place, can only look on with dismay as the space for ink painting continues to shrink. Nonetheless, Taiwan's ink painters are certain that the ebb and flow of history will eventually return the art form to its former status.
Yuan Chin-taa, who likes oil painting and pottery but spends 70% of his creative energies on ink painting, believes that since oil painting has been dominating the world art scene for centuries now, it is simply impossible for Asians to make a novel contribution to the field. Further, painting oils amounts to tacit acceptance of Western aesthetic norms, which the East has already been forced to comply with during events like the Olympics or Miss Universe Pageant. In order to bring out its unique characteristics, Taiwan must return to its own ethnic background and its own culture. Li Teng-hui's upcoming trip to Panama is Taiwan's most important event in foreign diplomacy in more than ten years, and ink painting has been selected for the honor of representing Taiwanese painting.
Taiwanese ink painting has accumulated an incredible array of achievements over the course of its history, both in the paintings it has left behind and the artists who have created them. When we look back on the beauty of their past work, we can only hope that Taiwan's ink painters will continue to meet with the same success in the future.
p.117
The Song dynasty represented the height of literati painting. Mature in technique and sophisticated in expression, Song paintings continue to impress even after 1000 years. The National Palace Museum's traveling exhibition, "The Splendors of Imperial China," displayed such representative works as Northern Song artist Fan Kuan's "Travelers Among the Mountains and Streams" and Southern Song artist Ma Lin's "Listening to the Rustling of Pines." This painting, "View from a Mountain Pavilion," was painted between the Northern and Southern Song by Xiao Zhao. It highlights both China's majestic northern mountains and magical southern rivers. (courtesy of National Palace Museum)
p.118
Chou Chen is mentor and head of the Long River Art Group as well as a student of Chiang Chao-shen. Art critics have praised his "vigorous brushstrokes and exquisite use of color." This painting is his "Auspicious Snow on Jade Mountain."
Li I-Hung's composition is quite distinctive. His "brushwork is always extremely relaxed and natural," and his works are filled with philosophical meaning. This painting is part of his "Mists and Clouds of Mt. Huang" series.
p.119
Chiang Ming-Shyan, who has studied in Spain, paints in a very Chinese style that incorporates various Western techniques. This painting, "The Guardian Deities of Wenwu Temple in Taiwan," uses heavy colors and conveys a kind of spraypaint effect.
p.120
Wang Lan-hsiung's meticulous sketch-like brushwork and realist style is unique among the members of the Long River Art Collective. This painting is entitled "This Dense Foliage, My Refuge."
p.121
Su Fung-nan's cloud landscapes have been praised for their "crispness of style and spontaneous touch." This painting is entitled "Clouds Surging Beneath the Towering Mountain."
p.122
In his "Nocturnal Dream Sonata," Lo Cheng-hsien takes inspiration from Kunming's scenic Stone Forest, creating a feeling of deep mystery without using color and relying on only the simple, basic strokes of Chinese calligraphy.
Despite graduating first in his Chinese painting class, Yen Shen-jer once gave up painting to pursue business. He possesses a solid, traditional technique, yet paints in a rather modern style. This is his "Life in Winter."
p.123
Wang You-chun's "Spring in Our Town" is composed of layer upon layer of ink. Wang uses traditional ink and brush work to depict the scenic extravagance often found in Western paintings.
p.124
Lo Ching's "Evening Snow Invades the Sky and River" uses stark lines to express the alienation of post-industrial society. His "iron net" tsun technique can be seen clearly here.
p.125
Yuan Chin-taa, who likes to keep his finger on the pulse of Taiwanese society, often employs political satire in his work. This amusing painting, "Changing of the Guards," is a good example.
p.126
Chang Ta-chien, Pu Hsin-yu and Huang Chun-pi, known as "The Three Painters from Across the Straits," came to Taiwan following the arrival of the Kuomintang government in 1949. Chang Ta-chien, the most prominent of the group, is famous for his "sprinkled-ink landscapes." This painting is entitled "Moon on Mt. E-Mei." (courtesy of the National Museum of History)
Huang Chun-pi began his painting career by imitating the classics, building a foundation that would allow him to become a widely respected master painter in his later years. This painting, "Mountain Abode in Early Summer," one of his later works, uses a lively dotting technique to create a sense of abundant vegetation, flashing in the rays of the sun. The style here is quite original, rarely seen among traditional master paintings. (courtesy of the National Museum of History)
p.127
Pu Hsin-yu, from a royal Manchurian family, has made great achievements in painting, calligraphy and poetry. His painting is a model for contemporary literati painters. The watery, brushed-on quality of the ink in this painting, "Serene Temple in the Rain," creates the feeling of blowing winds and rain. Pu's technique here is outstanding. (courtesy of the National Museum of History)
Chou Chen is mentor and head of the Long River Art Group as well as a student of Chiang Chao-shen. Art critics have praised his "Vigorous brushstrokes and exquisite use of color." This painting is his "Auspicious Snow on Jade Mountain.".
Li I-Hung's composition is quite distinctive. His "brushwork is always extremely relaxed and natural," and his works are filled with philosophical meaning. This painting is part of his "Mists and Clouds of Mt. Huang" series.
Chiang Ming-Shyan, who has studied in Spain, paints in a very Chinese style that incorporates various Western techniques. This painting, "The Guardian Deities of Wenwu Temple in Taiwan," uses heavy Colors and conveys a kind of spray paint effect.
Wang Lan-hsiung's meticulous sketch-like brushwork and realist style is unique among the members of the Long River Art Collective. This painting is entitled "This Dense Foliage, My Refuge.".
Su Fung-nan's cloud landscapes have been praised for their "crispness of style and spontaneous touch." This painting is entitled "Clouds Surging Beneath the Towering Mountain.".
In his "Nocturnal Dream Sonata," Lo Cheng hsien takes inspiration from Kunming's scenic Stone Forest, creating a feeling of deep mystery without using color and relying on only the simple, basic strokes of Chinese calligraphy.
Despite graduating first in his Chinese painting class, Yen Shen-jer once gave up painting to pursue business. He possesses a solid, traditional technique, yet paints in a rather modern style. This is his "Life in Winter.".
Wang You-chun's "Spring in Our Town" is composed of layer upon layer of ink. Wang uses traditional ink and brush work to depict the scenic extravagance often found in Western paintings.
Lo Ching's "Evening Snow Invades the Sky and River" uses stark lines to express the alienation of post-industrial society. His "iron net" tsun technique can be seen clearly here.
Yuan Chin-taa, who likes to keep his finger on the pulse of Taiwanese society, often employs political satire in his work. This amusing painting, "Changing of the Guards," is a good example.
Chang Ta-chien, Pu Hsin-yu and Huang Chun-pi, known as "The Three Painters from Across the Straits," came to Taiwan following the arrival of the Kuomintang government in 1949. Chang Ta-chien, the most prominent of the group, is famous for his "sprinkled-ink landscapes." This painting is entitled "Moon on Mt. E-Mei." （courtesy of the National Museum of History）
Huang Chun-pi began his painting career by imitating the classics, building a foundation that would allow him to become a widely respected master painter in his later years. This painting, "Mountain Abode in Early Summer," one of his later works, uses a lively dotting technique to create a sense of abundant vegetation, flashing in the rays of the sun. The style here is quite original, rarely seen among traditional master paintings. （courtesy of the National Museum of History）
Pu Hsin-yu, from a royal Manchurian family, has made great achievements in painting, calligraphy and poetry. His painting is a model for contemporary literati painters. The watery, brushed-on quality of the ink in this painting, "Serene Temple in the Rain," creates the feeling of blowing winds and rain. Pu's technique here is outstanding. （courtesy of the National Museum of History）
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