Lai Chuan-chien’s (賴傳鑑) artistic career almost ended before it began. Born in Chungli in 1926, he gained early recognition for his brushwork, winning several competitions which in turn opened the door for him to move to Japan in the early 1940s to study art. But when the tide turned against Japan in World War II, he was forced to abandon his training there and return to Taiwan.
Lai’s abrupt departure from Japan is one of many anecdotes recounted by the Taipei Fine Arts Museum (TFAM) in its new exhibition, Lai Chuan-chien: 80th Anniversary Retrospective (賴傳鑑八十回顧展). The oddly titled show (isn’t it three years late?) traces the evolution of Lai’s tremendous career, beginning with his Japanese-inspired realist pieces. Though Lai’s Japanese roots are evident throughout the show, his later works also reveal the long-lasting influence of cubism and abstract art, styles that shaped many artists of Lai’s generation.
Lai’s early pieces echo the approach of other Japanese-trained artists working in Taiwan in the immediate aftermath of the war. Painting the people and places around him, Lai employs a realist style, emphasizing a stable, three-dimensional perspective and highlighting the play of light through his use of white.
Old Gate as Before (老門依然) depicts the interior of Lai’s father’s store, while Early Summer (初夏) is a portrait of his sister. Both use earthy-brown tones, the former suffused with yellows, the latter with shades of green. Like many of his paintings from the 1950s, they reflect Lai’s romantic perception of his hometown.
Though such pieces were recognized by numerous exhibitions, Lai nevertheless believed that his artistic training was incomplete. In addition to studying on his own, he soon found a mentor in Li Shih-chiao (李石樵). A respected artist, Li’s investigations into cubism helped shape Lai’s development.
Li’s influence is visible in Fishing (1) (漁 (1)). Wisps of sky blue and malachite streak across a colorful sea of geometrical and fragmented blocks, a medley of saturated reds and dull yellows and oranges. Lai’s fondness for visible brushstrokes infuses the work with a tactile quality, increasing the viewer’s sense of movement and perspective. While Peacock (孔雀), from this same period, uses a similar cleavage of color, Lai employs a cold palette of blues in place of the warm reds and yellows of Fishing (1).
Lai’s later canvases from the mid-1960s reveal an artist in the throes of experimentation with cubism, as well as abstract and more concrete styles. Though the former two tend to take precedence, an element of realism pervades Lai’s work in the latter part of the decade, meshing with the indeterminacy of abstract art and the blocks of perspective distinct to cubism.
Market (1) (市場 (1)) combines the distinct outlines of sitting figures, forms that fill a scene dominated by geometric shapes of bold color. This painting, as well as its complementary piece, Market (2) (市場 (2)), represents an early manifestation of the subject matter (female nude) and color (hints of purple, blue and yellow pastel within a framework of warm hues) that would come to characterize Lai’s later work.
As his style develops, Lai enhances the contours of the female figure by merging shades of brown with yellow, as evidenced by both Messenger of Spring (春之使者) and Summertime (夏日). This technique eventually results in the fully detailed figure visible in Summer Day Travel Sentiment (夏日旅情).
Though Lai’s post-1980s paintings are likewise filled with blocks of alternating perspective and pure color, such pieces also mark a return to his realist roots. This shift in style is reflective of the broadening influence of Lai’s extensive travels. The warm colors and totemic images visible in Abundant Harvest (豐收) and Horse Riding (三人行) evoke the primitivism of Paul Gauguin, an homage inspired by Lai’s experiences in Taiwan’s outlying islands. Early Morning of Budapest (布達佩斯之晨) and Overlooking Prague (布拉克展望) are suffused with a pastel play of light and rhythmic aura, both of which are reminiscent of Paul Cezanne.
Retrospectives offer a window into the development of an artist’s career. In exploring the evolution of Lai’s work, TFAM embarks on a complex journey through both the artist’s stylistic progression and the historical context within which he operated. Though Lai’s art is characterized by its amalgamation of contemporary and traditional techniques, his ability to combine these disparate styles into an original whole is unique, a talent that distinguishes him as one of Taiwan’s most important modernists.
“How China Threatens to Force Taiwan Into a Total Blackout” screamed a Wall Street Journal (WSJ) headline last week, yet another of the endless clickbait examples of the energy threat via blockade that doesn’t exist. Since the headline is recycled, I will recycle the rebuttal: once industrial power demand collapses (there’s a blockade so trade is gone, remember?) “a handful of shops and factories could run for months on coal and renewables, as Ko Yun-ling (柯昀伶) and Chao Chia-wei (趙家緯) pointed out in a piece at Taiwan Insight earlier this year.” Sadly, the existence of these facts will not stop the
Taiwan is one of the world’s greatest per-capita consumers of seafood. Whereas the average human is thought to eat around 20kg of seafood per year, each Taiwanese gets through 27kg to 35kg of ocean delicacies annually, depending on which source you find most credible. Given the ubiquity of dishes like oyster omelet (蚵仔煎) and milkfish soup (虱目魚湯), the higher estimate may well be correct. By global standards, let alone local consumption patterns, I’m not much of a seafood fan. It’s not just a matter of taste, although that’s part of it. What I’ve read about the environmental impact of the
It is jarring how differently Taiwan’s politics is portrayed in the international press compared to the local Chinese-language press. Viewed from abroad, Taiwan is seen as a geopolitical hotspot, or “The Most Dangerous Place on Earth,” as the Economist once blazoned across their cover. Meanwhile, tasked with facing down those existential threats, Taiwan’s leaders are dying their hair pink. These include former president Tsai Ing-wen (蔡英文), Vice President Hsiao Bi-khim (蕭美琴) and Kaohsiung Mayor Chen Chi-mai (陳其邁), among others. They are demonstrating what big fans they are of South Korean K-pop sensations Blackpink ahead of their concerts this weekend in Kaohsiung.
The captain of the giant Royal Navy battleship called his officers together to give them a first morsel of one of World War II’s most closely guarded secrets: Prepare yourselves, he said, for “an extremely important task.” “Speculations abound,” one of the officers wrote in his diary that day — June 2, 1944. “Some say a second front, some say we are to escort the Soviets, or doing something else around Iceland. No one is allowed ashore.” The secret was D-Day — the June 6, 1944, invasion of Nazi-occupied France with the world’s largest-ever sea, land and air armada. It punctured Adolf
RSS