Incubation Phase
Q: From your studies in Fu Hsin Arts School and Tunghai University in Taiwan, followed by your residency in Spain and the UK, how did your art education inspire and change you at different stages in life?
A: My initial contact with art was via education, through which I became interested in painting. It all began when I studied in the special art class in junior high school and later in art school. I continued my higher education in art through university years. In the Fine Arts Department, I felt at the time that watercolor painting, still life, and sketches were as important medium of art expression to me, and each stage was like a milestone of my life. However, it was later proven that there isn’t a close correlation amongst them.. I don’t mean to say that the training wasn’t essential, and it created a context for my hands to become familiarized with these materials and come in contact with canvas. As to the extent to which we can become familiarized with theses materials, it may depend on sheer luck or destiny.
When I think back to my school years, it was a process of learning what art is. Years later, I moved to Spain to study graduate school and where I realize my connection to painting. I realized that school was only an environment for me to cultivate my interest and to keep me abreast of the latest happenings in the art circle.
Q: When did you begin learning to paint?
A: I think it was in junior high school, yet, back in elementary school, I was already seen by my teachers and peers as “the kid who draws well”. As I recall, I had a special feeling about drawing eversince kindergarten; I was aware of the “self” as exhibited via the images as I was in control of the paint brush. For example, when kids in kindergarten draw people running, the arms of the figures would look like pipes, devoid of joints or folds. But I felt that was insufficient and I would try to add more lines and make revisions. I explored on my own rather than underwent training to make my drawings more realistic or to bring perspective into the image. I felt good about that, and I realized I was in control when I drew. I was really different from the kids who just try to express their feelings through drawing.
Q: Why did you choose to study overseas? Why Spain and not France, US, or Italy where many Taiwan art students tend to go ?
A: Well, perhaps it was a kind of rebellion against the US or France. I wasn’t trying to be different. I just felt like I didn’t belong to those places. Every choice we make determines the kind of person we are. Also, I really liked Spain aside from admirations toward the environment or certain Spanish artists, the tuition in Spain was also relatively cheaper. Looking back, I feel Spain is a cool place to live and study.
Q: What was especially rewarding about studying in Spain?
A: Compare Spain to France, the US, and the UK, I would say that Spain is a great place to study plastic art. It has a great tradition and a practical place which takes “production” very seriously. Local and international students took the same classes, and our block print instructor used simple Spanish to teach us the process of producing block prints, each detailed process and features of different materials were taught. If I had gone to the UK or the US, the teachers there may have just told us to immediately start working on our own. I have friends who studied block prints in graduate school but not familiar with the features of various medium and may not have teachers to consult or rely on.
On the campus, the technicians and teachers spent a year working with the huge block print machine with which we could print on thick paper, to adjust to its best condition. The machine was finally fine-tuned to perfection after a year all for a course on how to produce one special kind of block print. I think this was a great experience. In the plastic art training that I received in Spain, I felt that to an extent, we were taught that artists need to first become a “machine” which is capable of producing beautiful work. We could ignore all the meaning or profoundness behind our work first because the threshold is to first produce good quality work. Only after achieving that, did we start thinking about taking the next level.
As for my oil painting course, my professors did not attempt to “teach” much. They only come over to talk to us when we are doing well. Yet usually, when our professors talk to us, it’s usually not about the work but asking us to go to a movie or to get a drink to get inspiration. My professors talked to me like a friend. Throughout my studies, the professors had nothing but encouragements to my work. At the time, many of my classmates were expecting to be “taught”, and they felt that our professor was not instructing much and slacking off. Some student even boycotted class in protest. But I feel that it was just a cultural shock and a different approach to teaching.
Self Reflection
Q: Do you always use self-portraits as a prototype for your paintings?
A: To put it simply, yes. But just like I said in the artist’s statement, I started doing self-portraits since I was in college. At the time, I didn’t realize that they were self-portraits. At one point in time I suddenly started referring to my work as “self-portraits”. However, I didn’t realize this until much later. Many random or meaningless symbols appeared in my prior works, and I had to find an explanation for them. Some of the explanation may have been genuine but some may be rather contrived. However, the purpose was to help viewers understand my work. Even so, I feel that self-portrait or elements in my works such as dog and man, numbers, poker signs, gun, or rain drops, the connections between these elements do not become visible until later on. Among these elements, some have strong connections to each other while some connections are weak; yet some are important while others are contrived. All the elements are interconnected as a complicated whole, yet this was not evident until much later. So in college, even though I did self-portraits, looking back now, I have discovered that those self-portraits are different from the self-portraits which I work on today. The self-portraits that I am referring to are still rather weak in meanings, or rather empty. Yet, I don’t feel anxious nor in a rush to fill in the blank. I feel that if a piece of artwork is genuine and honest, its true meaning will eventually be revealed. The underlying meaning may not be concrete, like a language or words, but no explanation required. When people view my work, they do not necessarily need to depend on the context or meaning. Sometimes, just an implication or some guidance would suffice.
What I’ve just said may apply better to pure abstract work because it would be more convincing and easier for viewers to accept and digest. However, I do have one prejudice. Let me give you an example. Many people buy a camera and they only like to take photos of scenery, or the dew in the trees. Of course, in a sense those images are very beautiful, but I personally feel that they are rather empty or meaningless. There needs to be people in our images for the paintings to carry meaning. Well, it does not necessarily have to be people per se, I feel that there needs to be an image which can be interpreted in a piece of work. I could also paint pure abstract work, but then that would be less enriching for viewers. If people were portrayed in my images, I think it would also add to the enjoyment of viewing my work and I am being empowered to an extent doing so. That is to say, I gained new motivation. If I work on abstract paintings, I only need to work with my way of expression, however, in my paintings, there are different people and roles, I am empowered to intervene and to develop new elements throughout the process of painting. Doing so, this generates new opportunities for myself.
Q: When did you begin avoiding abstract work? Was it in college?
A: Yes, I experimented with abstract painting in college because some teachers were interested. Abstract painting may be related with their own work, so they felt that some of the abstract parts of my painting were more valuable, and wanted me to take it to the next level. On the other hand, some teachers think otherwise and felt that the atmosphere and context which we create are more valuable, because this is the most difficult part. The Spainish instructors also told me the same thing in a very simple manner. That is why I pursued this road less taken, and find it more challenging.
Q: The idea that you tend to avoid doing abstract work seems to reveal that you care a lot about the story or life behind a painting, which seems rather romantic. But from another perspective, your paintings tend to remain distant from people or the world. Do theses two qualities conflict each other?
A: If I had the ability to interpret my work, I would say that your observation is on the whole, correct. Through images, perhaps we are able to create certain symbols or scenarios which can be interpreted. However, the essence of these symbols and the meaning behind them may be hard to clarify or convey. Or should I say, these symbols resist being understood which may be by my design, and it’s hard to explain why.
Actually, I don’t feel empowered to interpret all my works, and to some extent, I shut out partial emotion of my protagonists so that there could be more to read into besides the abstract aspect of the painting. The ambiguous and complicated state of these roles provides viewers the power to reflect upon their own psyche.(Tang adds to his answer five moths later.) Let me answer your question one more time. Yes, there is a conflict, and I do feel ambivalent a lot of the time. Then again, you know, sometimes I tell myself why do I need to know myself so well, why not just let life be?
Q: You just said that an artist needs to be a “machine” able to create good and beautiful artwork before thinking about profound meanings behind the work. How do you think you are doing in terms of conveying this profound meaning?
A: Let me make a clarification. I meant to say that artists need to be capable of creating good work. This is a prerequisite. But what you mean by a more profound meaning is actually manifested in every brush stroke, when artists choose which colors to use or what texture they like. In those cases, whether to express emotions or whether to build connections to the viewers are really up to the artists.
My present way of doing things very hard to define at the moment because it is the approach and attitude I have taken in the past which has shaped me into who I am. People or the works always have their strengths and limitations, if you pay close attention, you will notice. If we feel there is a gap and we adjust our works accordingly to fill in the gap, it may still be impossible, or even irreversible. For instance, if you’re a frivolous person by nature, it would be impossible to erase all parts of your personality and start anew so that you can become more mature. For good or bad, I think the simplest answer is to let things flow naturally and move toward the direction you aim for.
Perhaps the so-called “profound meaning” that you are talking about refers to a kind of discourse which is food for thought. In that case, I would hope to preserve a touch of spirituality in my artworks. Rather than trying to find a perfect theory to go with my work, I would rather be more sensual, and to see a painting just as a painting. Maybe that will suit me more.
Q: There seems to be a strong sense of Eastern sense of aesthetics favored by literatis in your work, evident from the use of lines and the selection of subject matters. Do you like calligraphy? Or what kind of Eastern aesthetics or culture inspired you in your background?
A: All Taiwanese took calligraphy courses in school but my passion does not lie in calligraphy. I think the lines which exist in my paintings stem from my training in Chinese brush art. Pen spinning from traditional Chinese painting is especially fun and perhaps I was unconsciously influenced.
Creation and Life
Q: It seems like you focus a great deal on discipline and you do not lead the erratic life which is the stereotype people have of artists.
A: I think it started when I was in Spain. We had a large and open studio at the time, so all the students were free to learn from each other and chat. We often arrive at the studio around noon and work until closing time. We would also go for coffee, chat, smoke, or shop for materials together. Via the process, I learned the most from others’ experience and expertise. Things like going to the studio on a regular basis or having a partner really helped me. I think I benefitted the most from the context which I was in and the habits that I built in the process.
Humans are clan based by nature and I think I really need to belong to a group and to work in the presence of others… I personally love to work in the presence of others, but I think not many people like that.
Actually, I am not able to work eight hours a day. Even if I force myself to do so, I am too exhausted to really achieve anything after awhile. The perfect time for working is between four to five hours. If we’re able to work for that long every day, then our productivity would be pretty amazing in the long term. This was the habit that I picked up in Spain, which provided a great environment for artists. But at the same time, I cannot replicate that environment elsewhere. However, in the UK, It was different. I was either in my bedroom or in the living room (my studio), and I used short periods of time which were scatted time to paint on my canvas. Even when I was taking a break, I could see my work, since it was just right there in front of me. When I suddenly have an inspiration to put on canvas, I could choose either to begin working right away or wait a couple of days. Since I was forced to look at my work at all times, when I was not painting, I was still thinking about my work. I think this was also a pretty good way to “piece together the parts to make the whole”.
Q: How is “piecing together the parts” different from when you have large chunks of time to work? How is this reflected in your work?
A: The two are very different, but I don’t think it necessarily has to do with the notion of working one step at a time. When I was younger, I was more immature, had more creative energy and more momentum. After that phase, when I sent my works back to Taiwan for exhibitions, I realized that artworks were about more than whether I felt good or not, I also cared about the perception of others to a certain extent. In the past, though my work still needed a final touch, I stopped working when I felt it was ok... However, I am not like that anymore today because I need to meet the deadlines of galleries and I have to finish my work. This has influenced my attitude as well. Sometimes, for important exhibitions, I am obligated to infuse efforts in my work so that viewers will perceive that my work is fulfilling and complete. However, my work was somewhat transformed through its interaction with the larger context. The output of my work may have been shifted to meet the standards of exhibitions, and I would need to put in more efforts to make my work more “complete”. For example, in the past, if I used the color light blue in my painting, my intention would be to make the painting mellowly. But today, I would need to make my viewers feel that beside making the image mellow, light blue carries a specific meaning and also makes them feel good. In the past, some of my work was not 100% complete, they were somewhere in-between, which was fine at the time. Now, since artworks are usually pretty large in size, the collectors may feel insecure if a piece of artwork did not look fully completed.
Q: When did you start to feel that you needed to enhance the “completeness” of your work?
A: When I returned from Spain, I tendered my application for an exhibition at the Taipei Fine Arts Museum and was very happy that my application was accepted and felt really lucky. Yet, one year later, when I was preparing for the exhibition, when it was examed by the board, some viewers would feel that my work was incomplete or too loose, would they accept my work? Also, at the time, one of my friend was interested in becoming my agent. When she came to my studio, she saw my work and said to me, “You are not already done with this, are you?” And I remember thinking to myself, “ it’s already completed.” Hearing my friend’s opinion scared me. Luckily, my application was accepted in the end, but this incident got me thinking about the completeness of my works.
Q: I get the sense that you really need companions. Yet, this often goes against our impression of artists, since artists often need to be in solitude to create. How do you see yourself in this light? And how do you take yourself to a higher level when you do not have a companion with you in work or in life?
A: The reason that I need companionship is because I am a procrastinator and not productive person, so I hope that the diligence of others will make me feel that I need to work harder. That’s why I hope to have companions who will motivate me to go to the studio and help me become more efficient. On the other hand, by having companions, I would feel that I am not alone, or not so out of place as an artist in this society.
Artists’ life of creativity is to work in solitude. However, being solitary is not a goal in itself. For the time being, I pretend to work hard. As for taking myself to the next level, I don’t think I should force it, because if I force myself too much, I will become distorted. And I feel that if one has talent, it will be shown through the works naturally. It should not be the result of us constantly pressuring ourselves. The pricelessness of art creation is that if one has talent, art may be generated naturally with minimal efforts.
Q: Which artists that have inspired you the most?
A: When I was in school, I loved the Italian 3Cs (Sandro Chia, Enzo Cucchi, and Francesco Clemente). There was also a time when I really liked Miquel Barcelo and Giorgio Morandi. There are so many great painters I admire. Antoni Tàpies is really passionate, and I am attracted by the emotions. Also, the bottles painted by Morandi may be the best work that I have seen so far. Balthus is great too…
Q: What do you find the most challenging as an artist?
A: Time is the most challenging part. I always feared that I can’t get into the mode of the flow of creation. Once I am in the flow, everything comes quite easily. I don’t get stuck by a certain painting or face a similar kind of challenges. I just get worry that I can’t get into the flow of working when I need to work.
(After five months, Tang adds to his answer) To come back to this question, I think the greatest challenge is that we do not have infinite opportunities to do great work. If every time I made a mistake, I can pick up a paint brush, work on a canvas, and indulge myself in painting and not having to worry about whether this piece will fail or success, then I would have the perfect solution to all my problems. (Interviewer’s note: Tang’s answer varies under different context.)
Q: How did the milestones in your life, such as getting married and having children, has influenced your works?
A: I do not have a close bond to the outside world. Things which I connect with are normally things which area typical of vital to the outside world. For example, Flower in a Vase was inspired by a vase of flowers that my mom brought to my studio. I just happened to paint it. Or my dog Cookey, it’s not that I missed it that much I had to paint it. Cookey passed away and I just happened to paint him. After that, during the process of painting, meaning was generated, and it became connected to my painting. I can’t say that getting married and having kids did not change me in any way. Perhaps it will influence me in certain ways in the future, but not necessarily in ways which are really that substantial or ways which are visible right now.
Q: What are your favorite things to do aside from painting?
A: If possible, I would love to have a part-time job. It could be selling cars, washing cars, real estate agent, or an operator in a factory assembly line. I want it to be a job in which I am able to talk to others, or else it would just be meaningless. I need a job which lets me work with others. In the morning, I want to idle and just chill because usually I don’t do anything in the morning anyway. I usually do not start work until the afternoon. I just want to do something unrelated to what I do now. Humans need to be in a state which does not take their energy out of them, kind of like a computer screen saver program. Doing trivial things will help me relax and I don’t mind physical labor. When I am back in my studio again alone, I would feel that I am ready to go, like rebooting on a computer. Three to four hours later, I am ready to be turned off again. This is what it means to recharge ourselves. I don’t think we need to be too utilitarian about life. It’s just unnecessary. (Tang smiles)
Q: If someone offers you an opportunity and financial support to work on whatever you like, what would you want to do?
A: I’ve always wanted to work on a huge project. It’s so huge that it will need the help of a construction firm…. This project may be on rooftops of the apartments or mansions on the boulevards of Taipei. I want to make a large sculpture of an animal peeping from the rooftop of a building at passerbys. May it be part of a horse or other creatures facing downward of upward in different angles, or a cat’s tail hanging down from a building… Every building would have a different gesture or animal figure so that when you’re driving on an overpass and looking at the city, you will think that it is a unique and playful urban jungle. If there are any construction companies willing to invest, I think it should work.
