With over 80 works on display, this is Louise Bourgeois’ first solo show in Taiwan. Visitors are invited to traverse her world of love and hate, vengeance and acceptance, trauma and reconciliation.
Dominating the entrance, the nine-foot-tall Crouching Spider (2003) greets visitors. The creature looms behind the glass facade, symbolic protector and gatekeeper to the intimate journey ahead.
Bourgeois, best known for her giant spider sculptures, is one of the most influential artist of the twentieth century.
Photo: Bonnie White
Blending vulnerability and defiance through themes of sexuality, trauma and identity, her work reshaped the landscape of contemporary art with fearless honesty.
“People are influenced by fantasies, but [Bourgeois’] work is raw,” says co-curator Reiko Tsubaki.
Raised in her family’s tapestry restoration workshop, Bourgeois developed early craftsmanship. From marble to wood, steel to gouache, her skills became her language.
Photo: Bonnie White
The show unfolds in three main sections — motherhood, emotional struggle and reconciliation, reflecting Bourgeois’ lifelong engagement with family trauma, plus two columns showcasing some of her early works.
Adding a local touch, famous Taiwanese pop singer Stella Chang (張清芳) narrates the Chinese version of the audio guide.
MOTHER
Photo: Bonnie White
The opening chapter, “Do Not Abandon Me,” unravels Bourgeois’ relationship with motherhood.
The centrepiece Breast and the Blade (1991) captivates. From one angle, tender breasts cast in bronze are exposed; from another, a blade sticks out, guarding the socle.
In the corner, Nature Study (1984), a pink headless dog with six breasts, stands watch. The grotesque and maternal figure evokes unease and guardianship.
To Bourgeois, motherhood was both a burden and a source of creation. Her sculptures express the female body as a site of contradiction: nurturing yet wounded, exposed yet defiant.
The spider, a recurring motif in her work, is another metaphor: the fierce protector mending broken webs.
“My best friend was my mother, and she was deliberate, clever, patient, soothing, reasonable, dainty, subtle, indispensable, neat and as useful as an araignee,” Bourgeois said in a 1995 interview.
FATHER
In the second chapter of the exhibition, “I’ve been to hell and back,” the exhibition turns inwards.
The space shrinks in the dim-lit room, echoing the claustrophobia of memory and rage.
Cages and erotic images overwhelm the viewer. The room exudes psychic pain and fractured bodies.
While her mother suffered from chronic illness, young Bourgeois endured her father’s decade-long affair with their house governess. This painful memory became a driving force in her art, allowing her to externalize her anger and unresolved grief.
“Making art became an outlet for Bourgeois to deal with pain,” co-curator Manabu Yahagi says.
The Destruction of the Father (1974) bathed in red light is embedded into the wall like a wound. Inside, gnawed flesh forms on a dinner table, luring visitors into Bourgeois’ childhood revenge fantasy of devouring her father.
RECONCIALIATION
Moving across to the last chapter, “Repairs in the Sky,” the mood shifts. Bourgeois’ fabric works from the restorative phase of her practice decorate the walls.
These pieces, made from salvaged household fabrics and objects once belonging to family members, embody her desire to physically mend the past.
Towering 15 feet, Spider (1997), from Bourgeois’ “Cell” series, anchors the room. The monumental bronze legs encase a cell adorned with tapestry scraps, symbolizing both maternal protection and the entrapment of memory.
Upstairs, the final section of the exhibition opens into a vast room. Bourgeois’ later works invite reflection and healing.
Under a bright skylight, Arch of Hysteria (1993), a suspended bronze figure, arched in tension and release, captures the raw physicality of emotional suffering.
Across the room, gentle shades of blue wash over the sparse room, concluding Bourgeois’ psychoanalytic journey.
“I see her as one of the most incredible craftswomen, and the younger generation can learn much from her,” Manabu Yahagi says.
June 2 to June 8 Taiwan’s woodcutters believe that if they see even one speck of red in their cooked rice, no matter how small, an accident is going to happen. Peng Chin-tian (彭錦田) swears that this has proven to be true at every stop during his decades-long career in the logging industry. Along with mining, timber harvesting was once considered the most dangerous profession in Taiwan. Not only were mishaps common during all stages of processing, it was difficult to transport the injured to get medical treatment. Many died during the arduous journey. Peng recounts some of his accidents in
“Why does Taiwan identity decline?”a group of researchers lead by University of Nevada political scientist Austin Wang (王宏恩) asked in a recent paper. After all, it is not difficult to explain the rise in Taiwanese identity after the early 1990s. But no model predicted its decline during the 2016-2018 period, they say. After testing various alternative explanations, Wang et al argue that the fall-off in Taiwanese identity during that period is related to voter hedging based on the performance of the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP). Since the DPP is perceived as the guardian of Taiwan identity, when it performs well,
A short walk beneath the dense Amazon canopy, the forest abruptly opens up. Fallen logs are rotting, the trees grow sparser and the temperature rises in places sunlight hits the ground. This is what 24 years of severe drought looks like in the world’s largest rainforest. But this patch of degraded forest, about the size of a soccer field, is a scientific experiment. Launched in 2000 by Brazilian and British scientists, Esecaflor — short for “Forest Drought Study Project” in Portuguese — set out to simulate a future in which the changing climate could deplete the Amazon of rainfall. It is
The Taiwan People’s Party (TPP) on May 18 held a rally in Taichung to mark the anniversary of President William Lai’s (賴清德) inauguration on May 20. The title of the rally could be loosely translated to “May 18 recall fraudulent goods” (518退貨ㄌㄨㄚˋ！). Unlike in English, where the terms are the same, “recall” (退貨) in this context refers to product recalls due to damaged, defective or fraudulent merchandise, not the political recalls (罷免) currently dominating the headlines. I attended the rally to determine if the impression was correct that the TPP under party Chairman Huang Kuo-Chang (黃國昌) had little of a
RSS