Australian-based artist Penelope Aitken produced the work for her current solo show at DEOA in less than three weeks. Since the show's centerpiece is an immense quilt laboriously sewn by hand, she required a lot of helping hands.
Yet, this was not your typical female quilting bee.
Having friends and colleagues actively participate in her artmaking fits in well with her explorations of friendships and personal interrelationships. Not focused on stitching a traditional bridal quilt, this sewing project also included male sewers and topics of discussion ranged from the philosophical to the abstract.
PHOTO: COURTESY OF DEOA
The exhibition is divided into two sections. A previous work titled "An ongoing conversation in a reclining position on matters deep & personal" is installed in the basement, and the current quilt installation "The substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things unseen" is on the first floor. Like a poetic tailor, Aitken likes to stitch words together and chose "the politics of the personal" to link the two wordy installations, which both comment on the intricate politics of personal interrelationships and on the difficulties of maintaining individuality while negotiating through life.
Upstairs, the large white quilt constructed from translucent nylon mesh with small, flower-patterned panels lies strewn over a make-shift bed; its long, flowing edges ripple out like a bridal veil. This sense of flowing purity makes this quilt appropriate for an innocent bride; yet, the unfinished part of the quilt represents how things are never quite complete as the cycle of life continues.
In Aitken's work, feminist concerns loom close to the surface but do not overwhelm the viewer. Her themes include fidelity, brides, women, genealogy and she deals with these issues in an all-inclusive and non-threatening way. She replaces the '70's feminist quilt makers' boiling anger with optimistic images of weightlessness and purity. Perhaps subconsciously Aitken does not believe these absolutes of purity and fidelity can exist in real life, but can only be found in sublime realms.
PHOTO: COURTESY OF DEOA
On the walls, Aitken applied small white paper and nylon panels that contained the written responses of her friends from around the world who were asked to comment on their concept of "faith." Most notable in the wide range of responses was the huge contrast between the Chinese and Western answers, with the former providing moralistic concepts and the latter offering deeply personal experiences. The Japanese responses tended to fall somewhere in the middle.
The Chinese participants responded with one or two Confucius-inspired characters such as "duty," "charity," and "fraternity." Yet on a humorous note, one well-fed Chinese participant, upon finishing his meal, said that he had faith in "little dumplings."
Some of the Western responses touched on current political situations; one mentioned he gained faith from the recent improvements witnessed in South Africa while another said she lost her faith in the "innate goodness of man" after a suicidal bomber killed 22 in Colombo. Unconcerned with current events, a solipsist wrote "I have faith in me." Aitken does not pass judgement, but has assembled these intensely private thoughts and placed them into the public sphere.
Downstairs, past a heavy curtain, one enters an ambient and ethereal space. An ultra-violet light casts a bluish glow that illuminates florescent nylon pillows. These pillows float at varying heights to give the viewer the illusory feeling of weightlessness; so in a sense, the viewer and art become as one, floating together. Thinly washed paintings of pillows are scumbled into the walls with day-glo acrylics. From a distance, these paintings give the appearance of real pillows, thus providing a feeling of an immense deep space similar to the distortions experienced when swimming under water. Based on an earlier work, this piece hints at a social gathering where one can have private dreams but can also present a public face.
In 2020, a labor attache from the Philippines in Taipei sent a letter to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs demanding that a Filipina worker accused of “cyber-libel” against then-president Rodrigo Duterte be deported. A press release from the Philippines office from the attache accused the woman of “using several social media accounts” to “discredit and malign the President and destabilize the government.” The attache also claimed that the woman had broken Taiwan’s laws. The government responded that she had broken no laws, and that all foreign workers were treated the same as Taiwan citizens and that “their rights are protected,
A white horse stark against a black beach. A family pushes a car through floodwaters in Chiayi County. People play on a beach in Pingtung County, as a nuclear power plant looms in the background. These are just some of the powerful images on display as part of Shen Chao-liang’s (沈昭良) Drifting (Overture) exhibition, currently on display at AKI Gallery in Taipei. For the first time in Shen’s decorated career, his photography seeks to speak to broader, multi-layered issues within the fabric of Taiwanese society. The photographs look towards history, national identity, ecological changes and more to create a collection of images
The recent decline in average room rates is undoubtedly bad news for Taiwan’s hoteliers and homestay operators, but this downturn shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone. According to statistics published by the Tourism Administration (TA) on March 3, the average cost of a one-night stay in a hotel last year was NT$2,960, down 1.17 percent compared to 2023. (At more than three quarters of Taiwan’s hotels, the average room rate is even lower, because high-end properties charging NT$10,000-plus skew the data.) Homestay guests paid an average of NT$2,405, a 4.15-percent drop year on year. The countrywide hotel occupancy rate fell from
March 16 to March 22 In just a year, Liu Ching-hsiang (劉清香) went from Taiwanese opera performer to arguably Taiwan’s first pop superstar, pumping out hits that captivated the Japanese colony under the moniker Chun-chun (純純). Last week’s Taiwan in Time explored how the Hoklo (commonly known as Taiwanese) theme song for the Chinese silent movie The Peach Girl (桃花泣血記) unexpectedly became the first smash hit after the film’s Taipei premiere in March 1932, in part due to aggressive promotion on the streets. Seeing an opportunity, Columbia Records’ (affiliated with the US entity) Taiwan director Shojiro Kashino asked Liu, who had