Polymer Art Space (空場藝術聚落) is funded, operated and managed by a group of artists, filmmakers, musicians and other creative types. Opened to the public last weekend, the factory in Beitou (北投) featured a group exhibition of photography, installation and video art.
Curious visitors exchanged ideas with painter Hsu Pei-cheng (許旆誠), while new-media artist Chu Chun-teng (朱駿騰) showed his video installation piece to a group of friends. There are also things not commonly found at an artist’ studio: items of antique furniture clogged one room, and a tea appreciation event was held inside another. The space seemed rather homey.
“In Taiwan, we lack ways to connect and integrate, whether it is in the field of art, design, fashion, theater or film. We don’t know each other. And this place is intended as a barrier-breaker, where we can work together and share resources,” says Chu, who co-founded the space.
Photo courtesy of Polymer
COME TOGETHER
When Chu and his friends found the space over a year ago, it was a textile factory that had been vacant for years. A dozen or so artists chipped in, invested time and effort to build everything from scratch, transforming a vast, run-down space into an artists’ village composed of 20 studios, a nearly 200 ping (approximately 660 square meters) exhibition space, a communal kitchen and lounge area as well as a 600 ping rooftop patio for all kinds of activities and uses. The majority of the tenants are 30-something young artists and administrative decisions are mostly made by a team of six core members.
Officially opened one week ago, Polymer is the latest addition to the city’s several artist-run spaces. Open-Contemporary Art Center (打開—當代藝術工作站), for example, was founded in Banciao (板橋) in 2001 and, after a few changes of location, now takes up a residency at a public property in Shilin (士林) made available by Taipei’s Bureau of Cultural Affairs. Similarly, the 435 Art Studio (435藝術家工作室), housed inside a military dormitory, woos artists and designers with its cheap rent.
Photo courtesy of Polymer
The Taipei Contemporary Art Center (台北當代藝術中心) was set up by a group of artists, curators and scholars in 2010 as a platform for exhibitions, international exchanges and academic discussions.
While each establishment varies in its make-up, structure and goals, Polymer is different in that it is established and run by artists without corporate and governmental sponsorship, as well as its emphasis on collaboration among people from different fields. Residents at the artists’ village include musician Wang Yu-jun (王榆鈞), Butterfly Effect Theatre (蝴蝶效應劇團), photographer Juan I-jong (阮義忠), new-media artist Wu Chi-Tsung (吳季璁) and visual and graffiti artist CYH Jayson (大腸王).
The desire to know and work with each other is the main reason to have a large communal area for tenants to dine, frolic and relax, Chu says.
Photo courtesy of Polymer
“We [artists] are like handicraft makers, working hard and alone at home. It didn’t occur to us that we can try different modes of production with others,” the 32-year-old artist says. “When we work in a particular trade for too long, we become accustomed to how we work and live.”
Artist Kuo I-chen (郭奕臣) feels the same way. Working primarily in video and sound art, Kuo says he has led the lifestyle of a “zhainan” (宅男) in his small, crowded home-cum-studio in Ximending (西門町). But the experience of taking up artist-in-residence programs in New York City in recent years made a great impact on the internationally exhibited artist.
“During the residency, I got to live with different types of artists, share ideas with them in a much deeper way and gain a better understanding of different cultures and how others create art…. I started to feel the urge to change the way I work, to break habits. It is great to clash, connect and exchange,” the 35-year-old Kuo says.
Photo courtesy of Polymer
“There is a great sense of freedom here, and we want to maintain it, making [the place] something like an experimental lab,” he adds.
FINANCIAL INDEPENDENCE
The sense of freedom is partially the result of Polymer’s financial independence. Though the tenants don’t mind the idea of applying for government funding, Chu says they also try to find ways to support themselves, both in terms of the space and individual artists. Currently, the studio rentals are enough to pay for the monthly rent for the factory. And the Polymer team is open to anyone wishing to make creative use of the space.
While the younger artists have big ambitions for Polymer, more experienced members like painter Jeng Jun-dian (鄭君殿) are simply happy to have a proper place to work. Having looked for a studio for close to eight years, Jeng says it is very difficult for artists to find a working space in Taipei.
“Space is imperative for creating art. As art is a visual [expression], a small space can only produce small pieces; large space can bring about large works. Small and large-sized works are very different in the meaning and connotation they carry,” he says.
Tim Budden couldn’t agree more. A British paper-cut artist who came to Taiwan two decades ago, Budden was surprised to learn that it is not a common practice in Taiwan for artists to get together to form a commune. Friends suggested that he rent a room, and the artist eventually did.
“It was small and dark… It’s very lonely. I go there, spend all day by myself. I never talk to anyone,” says Budden, who moved to his studio at Polymer three weeks ago.
Though the artists like the communal feel of the space, Jeng says he doesn’t want it to become commercial.
“If restaurants or clothing stores start to come here, they will drastically change the environment. The rent will go up, and the artists will have to leave. This area is an industrial zoning district, but if one day it is no longer limited to industrial use, big changes might happen,” the artist notes.
Gentrification occurs everywhere. Budden says it is precisely what happened in his hometown, Cardiff, the capital of Wales, when local artists and bohemians started to occupy empty buildings in the 1970s when “industry changed and ships stopped coming.”
“There were lots of artists in these big neighborhoods around the harbor. Then of course, the government started to think, ‘we need to do something about the old buildings.’ So now all the artists are gone. All those old buildings are now expensive apartments, hotels, fancy bars and nightclubs,” the artist says.
For now, the tenants at Polymer have begun to work on a new group show for September. As several members, including Chu, had actively taken part in the Sunflower movement and the occupation of the Legislative Yuan, the show is intended to respond to what has been happening in Taiwanese society and will include a professional wrestling match.
“Whether it is art or how it integrates with art, to me, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that it is interesting and that people will find many possibilities happening here,” Kuo says.
Polymer Art Space is located at 3F, 9, Beitou Rd Sec 1, Taipei City (台北市北投路一段9號3F). The current exhibition is open to the public between 1pm to 8pm from Tuesday to Saturday and runs through April 25. For more information, go to the artist village‘s Facebook page at facebook.com/Polymertw.
Sept.16 to Sept. 22 The “anti-communist train” with then-president Chiang Kai-shek’s (蔣介石) face plastered on the engine puffed along the “sugar railway” (糖業鐵路) in May 1955, drawing enthusiastic crowds at 103 stops covering nearly 1,200km. An estimated 1.58 million spectators were treated to propaganda films, plays and received free sugar products. By this time, the state-run Taiwan Sugar Corporation (台糖, Taisugar) had managed to connect the previously separate east-west lines established by Japanese-era sugar factories, allowing the anti-communist train to travel easily from Taichung to Pingtung’s Donggang Township (東港). Last Sunday’s feature (Taiwan in Time: The sugar express) covered the inauguration of the
The corruption cases surrounding former Taipei Mayor and Taiwan People’s Party (TPP) head Ko Wen-je (柯文哲) are just one item in the endless cycle of noise and fuss obscuring Taiwan’s deep and urgent structural and social problems. Even the case itself, as James Baron observed in an excellent piece at the Diplomat last week, is only one manifestation of the greater problem of deep-rooted corruption in land development. Last week the government announced a program to permit 25,000 foreign university students, primarily from the Philippines, Indonesia and Malaysia, to work in Taiwan after graduation for 2-4 years. That number is a
This year’s Michelin Gourmand Bib sported 16 new entries in the 126-strong Taiwan directory. The fight for the best braised pork rice and the crispiest scallion pancake painstakingly continued, but what stood out in the lineup this year? Pang Taqueria (胖塔可利亞); Taiwan’s first Michelin-recommended Mexican restaurant. Chef Charles Chen (陳治宇) is a self-confessed Americophile, earning his chef whites at a fine-dining Latin-American fusion restaurant. But what makes this Xinyi (信義) spot stand head and shoulders above Taipei’s existing Mexican offerings? The authenticity. The produce. The care. AUTHENTIC EATS In my time on the island, I have caved too many times to
In a stark demonstration of how award-winning breakthroughs can come from the most unlikely directions, researchers have won an Ig Nobel prize for discovering that mammals can breathe through their anuses. After a series of tests on mice, rats and pigs, Japanese scientists found the animals absorb oxygen delivered through the rectum, work that underpins a clinical trial to see whether the procedure can treat respiratory failure. The team is among 10 recognized in this year’s Ig Nobel awards (see below for more), the irreverent accolades given for achievements that “first make people laugh, and then make them think.” They are not