A semi-derelict block located between Zhonghua Road Section 1 and Yanping South Road, is the unlikely home of the hugely ambitious Taiwan Photo Museum.
Taking in the numerous works on display, and their variety, filling every inch of the narrow ground floor display space, the venue could be mistaken for an art dealership.
The photographs, which range from simply framed 5-inch by 7-inch snaps to large, elaborately prepared works, are part of Dou Cheng (鬥陣), the first exhibition of the museum, which opened on March 10.
Lin Shun-chieh (林順傑), the museum’s chief secretary, said the exhibition had been opened to all-comers, and includes the works of hobbyists, practiced amateurs and professionals.
The quality of the photographs on display is uneven, but Dou Cheng makes up for that by providing a glimpse of what the art of capturing images means to people who take an active interest
in photography.
When Lin spoke to the Taipei Times, the show had already begun. He said
new submissions would be accepted, and as of press time, the show comprised
231 items.
The man behind the Taiwan Photo Museum is Chuang Ling (莊靈), a professor at Shih Hsin University (世新大學) and chairman of the V-10 Visual Arts Group (V-10視覺藝術群).
Speaking with the Taipei Times, Chuang said that the museum, as it now stands, is a very small first step to building an institution that promotes photography among a new generation and establishing a permanent collection that represents Taiwan’s photographic history.
“Photography has never had a high profile in Taiwan,” he said. “Even within academic circles, it is always just a
skill that you learn as part of something else, whether journalism or the
visual arts. It’s never really had an
independent existence.”
The museum’s primary goal is to provide a space for that independence
to develop.
Chuang said that part of the reason this first exhibition was so diverse, almost chaotic even, in its admission criteria, was that he and the other founders wanted to set the museum apart from commercial galleries, even those specializing in photography, such as TIVAC (台灣國際視覺藝術中心) — which was forced to close after its 10th anniversary last year and only re-opened late last month — by providing a platform that did not focus simply on commercial factors.
Chuang, who first took up a camera in 1953, spoke at length of Taiwan’s unique relationship with photography, a foreign technology that has produced some of the most enduring images of traditional Taiwanese life (see photo by Huang Pai-chi).
“Much of the work of the pioneer photographers, some of whom have already passed on, might be held by family members. Sometimes the photographs are in a poor state of preservation. Those works may deteriorate or be lost. That would be a great pity. The original works, especially the negatives, are of great value. Not just for Taiwan’s photography community, but also as a record of Taiwanese society,” he said.
Chuang, now in his 70s, said the Taiwan Photo Museum, which is run by photographers, is more likely to elicit the cooperation of the older generation of photographers in preserving, or at least digitizing, their work.
“We are not a commercial gallery, and that’s important in regard to what we want to achieve,” Chuang said.
While the preservation of old photographs is an important aim, no less meaningful is the need to engage with the wider photographic community.
“Photography has always been in a weak position. The traditional idea of the visual arts was painting. People thought photography was too easy — you just pick up a camera and you can easily get a result. It is a conventional idea, but it is wrong ... The government likes the idea of photography as a hobby, and it has never given it the same kind of resources as the other fine arts. The development of photography was largely propelled by the private sector. But the private sector is not focused and its resources are limited,” Chuang said.
Promoting serious photography is even more difficult in contemporary society.
“Many people still don’t understand the image. Young people can easily make an image, but they don’t necessarily have any deep understanding of it. And now it’s so cheap to make images. Our aim is to make people think about images, about photography,” Chuang said.
Dou Cheng, which ranges from traditional black-and-white film to
the latest digital technology, demonstrates Chuang’s inclusive approach to photography.
The museum was made possible because of the support of the JUT Foundation for Arts and Architecture
(忠泰建築文化藝術基金會), which is allowing various arts groups to occupy the dilapidated block until September next year, after which it will probably be ripped down and developed into luxury apartments.
That the building, named the UrbanCore Art Block (城中藝術街區), allowed the Taiwan Photo Museum and a number of other projects a foothold on inner city real estate is preferable to turning the site into a temporary car park. Nevertheless, its present location is ad interim.
“At least we have something for people to look at now,” said Chuang, who aims to set up a foundation to provide long-term funding for the museum. “This has been an idea three years in the making, and now there is something concrete. The first step has taken the museum from being just an idea to having an actual physical presence.”
What will happen after September 2011, though, depends on the energy that the museum generates during its term at the UrbanCore Art Block.
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