Philistines will react to the recent work of Lee Kit (李傑) in a predictable way: That’s not art, you might hear them say. Or, that looks like my living room. But these superficial responses to Not Swinging (沒有擺動), his five-part onsite installation currently on view at Project Fulfill Art Space, miss the mark. Lee says the exhibition’s title refers to the mood change that occurs within the first few minutes after you arrive home and flick on the light. Entering the gallery space, which has been reconfigured as a homey environment, presumably allows the viewer to experience this emotional transition.
Lee, a Hong Kong native who represents the city at this year’s Venice Biennial (which ends Nov. 24), and who calls Taipei his second home, assembles diverse media to create the gallery-size installation that he says is rooted in the minutiae of his own experiences. Similar to his Venice installation, Not Swinging incorporates found objects, ready-mades, bric-a-brac, furniture, music and lighting to create a dialogue amongst these disparate elements. In so doing, Lee also seeks to evoke memories and associations in the viewer’s mind, the quotidian serving as a trigger for the imagination, where entering the tangible space of the gallery enables viewers to be transported into their own imaginary domestic bliss.
Yet it’s the very quotidian nature of the objects displayed that creates a somewhat sterile environment, making it difficult for them to evoke any form of personalized experience for the viewer. And unlike the Venice installation, which was housed in a structure that resembles more the interior of Taipei’s older apartment buildings than Project Fulfill’s swanky space. This made it difficult for this reviewer to suspend his judgment long enough to allow for that spark of imagination necessary to transport him to that emotional state that feelings of domesticity can inspire.
Photo Courtesy of Project Fulfill Art Space
In a phone interview yesterday with the Taipei Times, hours before he jetted off to Switzerland for a talk, Lee said the installation reflects his sense of dislocation due to constant travel. “I rarely stay in one place for longer than two weeks,” he says. The installation, then, is a response to an existence that is to a large degree marked by impersonal and repetitive environments that have made up the artist’s life over the past two years, ones that leave him longing for that personal space called home.
Still, he quips, “I like hotel rooms.”
Perhaps hotels and other public/private spaces have become Lee’s domestic frame of reference. Regardless, though he may be on the road most of the time, this exhibition suggests that he remains preoccupied with the idea of home, wherever and whatever that may be.
Photo Courtesy of Project Fulfill Art Space
■ Project Fulfill Art Space (就在藝術空間), 2, Alley 45, Ln 147, Xinyi Rd Sec 3, Taipei City (台北市信義路三段147巷45弄2號), tel: (02) 2707-6942. Open Tuesdays to Sundays from 1pm to 7pm. On the Net: www.pfarts.com
■ Until Sept. 29
Photo Courtesy of Project Fulfill Art Space
Photo Courtesy of Project Fulfill Art Space
Photo Courtesy of Project Fulfill Art Space
Photo Courtesy of Project Fulfill Art Space
Photo Courtesy of Project Fulfill Art Space
Photo Courtesy of Project Fulfill Art Space
Oct. 14 to Oct. 20 After working above ground for two years, Chang Kui (張桂) entered the Yamamoto coal mine for the first time, age 16. It was 1943, and because many men had joined the war effort, an increasing number of women went underground to take over the physically grueling and dangerous work. “As soon as the carts arrived, I climbed on for the sake of earning money; I didn’t even feel scared,” Chang tells her granddaughter Tai Po-fen (戴伯芬) in The last female miner: The story of Chang Kui (末代女礦工: 張桂故事), which can be found on the Frontline
There is perhaps no better way to soak up the last of Taipei’s balmy evenings than dining al fresco at La Piada with a sundowner Aperol Spritz and a luxuriant plate of charcuterie. La Piada (義式薄餅) is the brainchild of Milano native William Di Nardo. Tucked into an unassuming apartment complex, fairy lights and wining diners lead the way to this charming slice of laid-back Mediterranean deli culture. Taipei is entirely saturated with Italian cuisine, but La Piada offers something otherwise unseen on the island. Piadina Romagnola: a northern Italian street food classic. These handheld flatbreads are stuffed with cold
President William Lai’s (賴清德) National Day speech was exactly what most of us expected. It was pleasant, full of keywords like “resilience” and “net zero” and lacked any trolling of the People’s Republic of China (PRC). Of course the word “Taiwan” popped up often, and Lai reiterated the longtime claim of his Democratic Progressive Party (DPP), a claim that now dates back 30 years on the pro-Taiwan side. But it was gentle. Indeed, it was possible to see the speech as conciliatory, leaving room for the PRC to make a gesture. That may have been one of its purposes: if
In the tourism desert that is most of Changhua County, at least one place stands out as a remarkable exception: one of Taiwan’s earliest Han Chinese settlements, Lukang. Packed with temples and restored buildings showcasing different eras in Taiwan’s settlement history, the downtown area is best explored on foot. As you make your way through winding narrow alleys where even Taiwanese scooters seldom pass, you are sure to come across surprise after surprise. The old Taisugar railway station is a good jumping-off point for a walking tour of downtown Lukang. Though the interior is not open to the public, the exterior