He goes by only one name, Herman, and the images he makes have become recognized around the world, in all sorts of places, ranging from club logos to monumental icons. He is in Taiwan to launch a small show at the German Cultural Center here in Taipei. This is Herman's first visit to Taipei, and in his optimistic way, he is sure that from small things, great things will grow.
His paintings have a rough, simplistic look, but are full of verbal and pictorial humor. A professional cartoonist, Herman gave up his battle against the big cartoon syndicates, and decided to adopt a style of drawing that would differentiate him from the smooth, fluid lines of comic strips such as Garfield and Alfie.
His images are now notable for their jagged lines, which make them distinctive, as does the direct, innocent humor. It is this innocence and simplicity that is behind their appeal to a wide audience all over the world.
PHOTO: IAN BARTHOLOMEW, TAIPEI TIMES AND COURTESY OF HERMAN
"Lots of artists have tried to imitate me, but it doesn't work," Herman said in an interview with the Taipei Times last Tuesday. "When I paint a picture, it is like I write the words ... for me, when I paint, it is like writing. All that I put inside the picture comes out if you like it and look at it. This is perhaps the reason for its success. They don't see the edgy (jagged lines), but they see the round meanings behind them."
Herman's work, often initiated on a monumental scale, is then reproduced in limited-edition prints. These are the tools with which he conducts his charity work, auctioning them at various events where they often fetch high prices.
His painting Angel, stands 50m high, and at its base there is a button with a counter attached. "[People] can press the button and can be counted as someone who wishes for peace. If lots of people push the button, there is the addition of many people looking for peace, and the wishes come up to the universe, and then float back down into the world. I would like to make a network with this angel and the counter, ... but you need sponsors, for it is a lot of work." A limited edition of an A4 silk-screen print signed by the artist fetches around US$112.
Herman is unabashed at his commercial success. "In Germany, to go the museum way, you must be quiet and shy and paint two pictures a year. But there is only a small community who likes it. When many people like my work, I am commercial: I don't understand this." He talks about merchandising his images in ways that would make the quiet, shy, two-pictures-a-year artist blush, but Herman responds that "I do not make some nobody-understanding pictures ... . I catch some of people's smallest wishes, what everybody wants. It is not a marketing strategy. I do not think in marketing terms. At first, I paint a picture because inside there is something that has to come out, but after that, it is not for me, this picture. It is for anybody. Or everybody."
Herman's language of colors and lines translates all around the world. "It allows me to work with children or adults from all around the world, for I show them the picture and they know what I mean." Some of the jokes in the current exhibition, based on word games in the title, might require an understanding of German, but even in these the humor is simple and direct, once the joke is explained, and it is easy to see how the artist's mind works at capturing people's "smallest wishes" for such things as peace, or the enjoyment of the simple pleasures of life.
These tiny vignettes which zoom in on a single idea, with all the external detail ruthlessly cut away, is what makes Herman such an adept maker of icons.
The small platform at Duoliang Train Station in Taitung County’s Taimali Township (太麻里) served villagers from 1992 to 2006, but was eventually shut down due to lack of use. Just 10 years later, the abandoned train station had become widely known as the most beautiful station in Taiwan, and visitors were so frequent that the village had to start restricting traffic. Nowadays, Duoliang Village (多良) is known as a bit of a tourist trap, with a mandatory, albeit modest, admission fee of NT$10 giving access to a crowded lane of vendors with a mediocre view of the ocean and the trains
For many people, Bilingual Nation 2030 begins and ends in the classroom. Since the policy was launched in 2018, the debate has centered on students, teachers and the pressure placed on schools. Yet the policy was never solely about English education. The government’s official plan also calls for bilingualization in Taiwan’s government services, laws and regulations, and living environment. The goal is to make Taiwan more inclusive and accessible to international enterprises and talent and better prepared for global economic and trade conditions. After eight years, that grand vision is due for a pulse check. RULES THAT CAN BE READ For Harper Chen (陳虹宇), an adviser
Traditionally, indigenous people in Taiwan’s mountains practice swidden cultivation, or “slash and burn” agriculture, a practice common in human history. According to a 2016 research article in the International Journal of Environmental Sustainability, among the Atayal people, this began with a search for suitable forested slopeland. The trees are burnt for fertilizer and the land cleared of stones. The stones and wood are then piled up to make fences, while both dead and standing trees are retained on the plot. The fences are used to grow climbing crops like squash and beans. The plot itself supports farming for three years.
President William Lai (賴清德) on Nov. 25 last year announced in a Washington Post op-ed that “my government will introduce a historic US$40 billion supplementary defense budget, an investment that underscores our commitment to defending Taiwan’s democracy.” Lai promised “significant new arms acquisitions from the United States” and to “invest in cutting-edge technologies and expand Taiwan’s defense industrial base,” to “bolster deterrence by inserting greater costs and uncertainties into Beijing’s decision-making on the use of force.” Announcing it in the Washington Post was a strategic gamble, both geopolitically and domestically, with Taiwan’s international credibility at stake. But Lai’s message was exactly