Hsu Chiu-i (徐秋宜) studied to be a painter and sculptor, but now she applies the fine art techniques she learned to her one-of-a-kind clothing designs, many of which are dyed with natural indigo pigment. During a press conference for the Taipei Fabricreative Project (台北布思議) at Taipei City Hall on Friday last week, Hsu demonstrated how to turn a few yards of fabric into a sundress or a flowing Grecian goddess evening gown without sewing by using deftly executed twists, tucks and pleats.
“Working with fabric is just like sculpting,” said Hsu in an interview after the event. “It’s about manipulating space.”
Hsu’s eponymous clothing label is sold at her store Artale Workshop near Zhongshan MRT Station (中山捷運站). The space also carries items from other Taiwanese brands, including hand-painted ceramics and glass pendants by Art Lee, sterling silver accessories by Bomb Metal and Fry Jewelry (爆炸毛頭與油炸朱利), fikabrod’s felted toys and T-shirts by minono.
Photo: Catherine Shu, Taipei Times
Most of Hsu’s current creations are dyed with indigo pigment made from the leaves of the Assam indigo plant (馬藍, botanical name strobilanthes cusia). Her textile designs range from intricately detailed flowers to bold ombre washes.
“People link indigo dyeing with traditional clothing, but I like to experiment with ways to make it feel contemporary,” says Hsu.
In Taiwan, indigo-dyed fabrics are associated with simple shirts once worn by the Hakka, who favored the deep blue color for work clothes because it hid stains well. Sansia District (三峽區) in New Taipei City was once the center of indigo dyeing in Taiwan, but production began to decline in the early 20th century as chemical dyes became available.
Photo: Catherine Shu, Taipei Times
Hsu hopes to revive the industry by selling enough indigo-
dyed clothing and accessories to start passing orders on to
fabric workshops.
Photo: Catherine Shu, Taipei Times
Though Hsu’s clothing label, which was founded in 1996, is now best known for her indigo-dyed pieces, she did not begin working with the natural pigment until just two and a half years ago, while serving as a consultant for textile and accessory manufacturers.
“They had used indigo dyeing for little things like scarves and bags before, but they wanted me to show them how they could incorporate it into larger items like clothing,” says Hsu. “I found it fascinating.”
Traditional dyeing techniques include wax-resist, in which a pattern is first applied to the fabric using wax, or shibori, a form of tie-dyeing that originated in Japan and produces intricate patterns. Hsu, however, prefers to create larger, more dynamic designs.
Photo: Catherine Shu, Taipei Times
“The color of indigo dyes reminds me of the clouds in Chinese paintings. I wanted to capture that sense of freedom and movement,” says Hsu. “Some of my patterns have been based on paintings by my husband [artist Wang Ren-jye (王仁傑)] and daughter, or even dogs I see while out walking.”
Though her mother was a custom dressmaker, Hsu never thought she would follow in her parent’s footsteps and went to art school to study Western painting and sculpture instead.
“I always preferred drawing. I would cut out paper dolls from my mother’s fashion magazines, but I never imagined I would enter this business,” says Hsu.
Photo: Catherine Shu, Taipei Times
After graduating from art school, however, Hsu landed a position as a textile designer, creating patterns for intarsia fabric. During the early 1990s, Hsu earned a master’s degree in fashion design at the Ecole Nationale Superieure des Arts Decoratifs in Paris. After a stint as a trends analyst for the Taiwan Textile Federation (紡拓會設計中心), Hsu launched her namesake fashion label in 1996.
Hsu dyes all her textiles at her home studio near Artale Workshop, working with fabric pieces that measure 2m or 3m each. In order to create gradations in color from the palest shade of slate to deep midnight blue, Hsu dips the cloth into the indigo dye bath several times, laying it out to dry in the sun between each immersion and repeating the process until she achieves the color she wants. Most fabric takes about three days to finish, Hsu says.
Her dresses, skirts and shirts are made to preserve and show off the painstakingly created indigo patterns.
“If you use ordinary dressmaking patterns, you cut up the design,” says Hsu. “But I also didn’t want to make dresses that just use one large piece of fabric in the front and then another in the back, so I began to experiment with draping the fabric in different ways.”
Hsu hopes to find ways to lower the production costs of indigo dyeing and encourage more designers and textile artists to work with the technique.
“Indigo is very special to me. We can preserve a traditional textile art but at the same time we also have an opportunity to modernize it, and it’s all done with environmentally friendly materials,” says Hsu. “Hopefully we can turn indigo dyeing into a viable industry again.”
Last week Joseph Nye, the well-known China scholar, wrote on the Australian Strategic Policy Institute’s website about how war over Taiwan might be averted. He noted that years ago he was on a team that met with then-president Chen Shui-bian (陳水扁), “whose previous ‘unofficial’ visit to the US had caused a crisis in which China fired missiles into the sea and the US deployed carriers off the coast of Taiwan.” Yes, that’s right, mighty Chen caused that crisis all by himself. Neither the US nor the People’s Republic of China (PRC) exercised any agency. Nye then nostalgically invoked the comical specter
April 15 to April 21 Yang Kui (楊逵) was horrified as he drove past trucks, oxcarts and trolleys loaded with coffins on his way to Tuntzechiao (屯子腳), which he heard had been completely destroyed. The friend he came to check on was safe, but most residents were suffering in the town hit the hardest by the 7.1-magnitude Hsinchu-Taichung Earthquake on April 21, 1935. It remains the deadliest in Taiwan’s recorded history, claiming around 3,300 lives and injuring nearly 12,000. The disaster completely flattened roughly 18,000 houses and damaged countless more. The social activist and
Over the course of former President Ma Ying-jeou’s (馬英九) 11-day trip to China that included a meeting with Chinese Communist Party (CCP) leader Xi Jinping (習近平) a surprising number of people commented that the former president was now “irrelevant.” Upon reflection, it became apparent that these comments were coming from pro-Taiwan, pan-green supporters and they were expressing what they hoped was the case, rather than the reality. Ma’s ideology is so pro-China (read: deep blue) and controversial that many in his own Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) hope he retires quickly, or at least refrains from speaking on some subjects. Regardless
Approaching her mid-30s, Xiong Yidan reckons that most of her friends are on to their second or even third babies. But Xiong has more than a dozen. There is Lucky, the street dog from Bangkok who jumped into a taxi with her and never left. There is Sophie and Ben, sibling geese, who honk from morning to night. Boop and Pan, both goats, are romantically involved. Dumpling the hedgehog enjoys a belly rub from time to time. The list goes on. Xiong nurtures her brood from her 8,000 square meter farm in Chiang Dao, a mountainous district in northern Thailand’s