Those of us who are artistically inclined know too well the struggle of turning our passion into something more lucrative.
The Canadian Chamber of Commerce’s Small Business Committee is hosting Art as a Business in Taipei on Friday of next week. The panel, which is to be held at 7:30pm at 1001 Nights, will include presentations by guest speakers, all of whom are expat entrepreneurs.
One of the guest panelists is Color Wolf Studio, the Taipei-based collective consisting of artists and writers. Started in 2013 by husband-and-wife duo Todde Williams and Patty Hogan and their friend Madison Conger, the collective aims to bring together creative people.
Photo courtesy of Color Wolf Studio
“People who are truly creating aren’t typically out on the scene meeting new people,” Williams tells the Taipei Times. “When people join our collective, we advertise for them, give them projects to fit their individual style and always keep them in the loop for our group shows.”
He adds that while Taipei galleries have taught them much about the local scene, they’ve also tried to infuse a bit of their own vibe into the shows they do.
Williams says they did a show at a tattoo studio in London where “we grilled and drank alcohol all day.”
Photo courtesy of Zachary Widgren
He thinks this is a fine approach.
“Lubricated people buy art,” he says. “In Taipei, it seems that shows are all juice and sandwiches.”
Also speaking at the panel is American artist Zachary Widgren, who now goes by the moniker Lala Eats Lala.
Photo courtesy of Color Wolf Studio
Widgren says the name was given to him by a homeless man in Tennessee that he shared a pizza with one night. They talked for hours and the man spent a great deal of time flipping through Widgren’s sketchbook, saying, “This stuff is your own…keep that up…Lala Eats Lala. That name is good, keep that.”
The name stuck in Widgren’s head.
“Dude had a good spirit.”
Photo courtesy of Zachary Widgren
As for the art scene in Taipei, Widgren believes that there is growing hunger within the contemporary scene to create a new identity.
For his own work — which is mostly avant-garde and incorporates words, symbols and hidden imagery influenced by psychedelic counter-culture of the 1960s.
“I think it is much more interesting to make things that escape language for me,” he says.
Photo courtesy of Color Wolf Studio
He adds that art can serve as a way to pose questions or start conversations that haven’t been spoken yet.
More of Widgren’s work can be found on his Web site, www.lalaeatslala.com, and his Instgram, @paintbazooka.
To attend the panel, RSVP online via the link on the Facebook event page.
Nine Taiwanese nervously stand on an observation platform at Tokyo’s Haneda International Airport. It’s 9:20am on March 27, 1968, and they are awaiting the arrival of Liu Wen-ching (柳文卿), who is about to be deported back to Taiwan where he faces possible execution for his independence activities. As he is removed from a minibus, a tenth activist, Dai Tian-chao (戴天昭), jumps out of his hiding place and attacks the immigration officials — the nine other activists in tow — while urging Liu to make a run for it. But he’s pinned to the ground. Amid the commotion, Liu tries to
The slashing of the government’s proposed budget by the two China-aligned parties in the legislature, the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) and Taiwan People’s Party (TPP), has apparently resulted in blowback from the US. On the recent junket to US President Donald Trump’s inauguration, KMT legislators reported that they were confronted by US officials and congressmen angered at the cuts to the defense budget. The United Daily News (UDN), the longtime KMT party paper, now KMT-aligned media, responded to US anger by blaming the foreign media. Its regular column, the Cold Eye Collection (冷眼集), attacked the international media last month in
A pig’s head sits atop a shelf, tufts of blonde hair sprouting from its taut scalp. Opposite, its chalky, wrinkled heart glows red in a bubbling vat of liquid, locks of thick dark hair and teeth scattered below. A giant screen shows the pig draped in a hospital gown. Is it dead? A surgeon inserts human teeth implants, then hair implants — beautifying the horrifyingly human-like animal. Chang Chen-shen (張辰申) calls Incarnation Project: Deviation Lovers “a satirical self-criticism, a critique on the fact that throughout our lives we’ve been instilled with ideas and things that don’t belong to us.” Chang
Feb. 10 to Feb. 16 More than three decades after penning the iconic High Green Mountains (高山青), a frail Teng Yu-ping (鄧禹平) finally visited the verdant peaks and blue streams of Alishan described in the lyrics. Often mistaken as an indigenous folk song, it was actually created in 1949 by Chinese filmmakers while shooting a scene for the movie Happenings in Alishan (阿里山風雲) in Taipei’s Beitou District (北投), recounts director Chang Ying (張英) in the 1999 book, Chang Ying’s Contributions to Taiwanese Cinema and Theater (打鑼三響包得行: 張英對台灣影劇的貢獻). The team was meant to return to China after filming, but