Lu's artistic practice has been profoundly shaped by the socio-political transformations of Taiwan. Across decades, Lu's art has consistently centered on the human condition, whether through urban structures, symbolic objects, or natural imagery. His stylistic trajectory has progressed from fierce critique to a balance of reason and emotion, incorporating diverse techniques and cross-media experiments. Through his practice, Lu engages with the pulse of society, portraying the evolving cultural identity of Taiwan.
In the cultural development in history, through the acute sensibility and observation of an artist, Lu tries to preserve the present for the future by doing what he is good at. This is the position he has taken as an artist.
Text / Tsai Ming-jiun (Deputy Director, Asia University Museum of Modern Art; Assistant Professor, Center for General Education, Asia University; Adjunct Assistant Professor, Department of Fine Arts, Tunghai University)
I have liked to paint since I was a child, and joined many children's drawing competitions and won awards. Naturally, there would be teachers asking me if I wanted to be a painter when I grew up. I always answered "no," thinking that why someone would wanted to be a painter when there were so many wonderful things to pursue.
—Lu Hsien-ming
I forgot to ask Lu Hsien (the Chinese word "hsien" is a homonym, referring to a celestial being) after the interview that day: if he could choose again, would he still want to be an artist in his next life?
The Education of an Artist
People who have watched the interview created specially for the exhibition at MOCA, Taipei, titled A Tale of Two Cities-Lu Hsien-ming Exhibition: Glimpses of Cities, would definitely recall Lu Hsien, as most people would call him, expressed brightly wearing a pair of round, black-framed spectacles, his gratitude towards his art teachers for sending him on to the path of becoming an artist. It was about forty years ago when there were only two universities that had fine arts departments. To think that Lu was able to meet teachers who encouraged students to pursue a career in art is still an incredible awakening and support for someone like me, a person from a younger generation twenty years behind and had studied in art classes and fine arts departments since junior high school.
After finishing his junior high school education, Lu gor into the private Yanping High School, after waiting as a candidate for a vacancy. For someone who was not good at studying, the two art teachers there had major influences on him. The first teacher was Mr. Chien Ke-ming, who taught Lu in his freshman year. "This was what the teacher said to me, you'll need to compete with others when you start working. Since you cannot get good grades, you will have many competitors if you choose any other professions, and it will not be easy for you to stand out among others. However, you are already so much better than many people in painting. You will have much fewer competitors in this field?' That was when I became aware, and since that moment, I was more goal-oriented in school. I knew why I should study, and was able to learn."
In such an education system in Taiwan, which almost only assesses an individual's value by exams and grades, the pressure of cramming for tests and the frustration of feeling trapped in a system of exams and being poor at studying have never been eliminated but simply distorted by the educational reform. The lives of junior high and high school students, and even those of the elementary school students, almost center single-mindedly on studying. The idea that one would not be able to achieve anything without good grades still exists in the minds of many parents and teachers today. However, learning should not be equaled to memorizing, and education should not be merely cramming. To evaluate a student according to his or her academic performance and exam grades is just one of many approaches. Nonetheless, many of the students' characteristics or talents are suppressed or dormant in a system like this. Creative or philosophical thinking is always the first thing to be sacrificed in the primary education in Taiwan. In terms of artistic education, there are rarely proper art teachers in clementary schools, and the subject is usually taught by homeroom teachers. In junior high and high schools, although there are full-time art teachers, art class hours are commonly "borrowed" or taken for enhancing students' learning in other subjects or even for quizzes. Remembering his high school years, perhaps because it was a private school or his art teachers had their own ideal and insisted on their belief, Lu was able to fully enjoy every single art lesson; and maybe it was because he mer the right teachers, Lu did not have much hesitation in terms of his choice for the future, and had the chance to experience and witness the importance of cultivating aesthetics in the system of education.
Although the acceptance rate of universities is more one hundred per cent today, it has not been the case in Lu's time. In those days, there were only two universities that had fine arts departments. He laughingly said that while it would take others quite some days to fill out their preference cards, it only took him five seconds. Like many others, he also ranked his preferences according to the acceptance grades, and failed to enter his first choice, National Taiwan Normal University, and got into Chinese Culture University. He was so depressed that he wanted to immediately start preparing for retaking the entrance exam. At that time, his art teacher in the junior and senior year, Mr. Huang Tsai-lang, who happened to be a Chinese Culcure University graduate and live near Lu's family, encouraged him to enroll first to see if he liked the school before considering dropping out and retaking the entrance. Huang was the second teacher that helped Lu be one more step closer to become an artist.
"As a result, I fell in love with it right after I began. I lucked out. In those days, Chinese Culture University was actually quite nice because it did not have any baggage." The key that changed Lu's mind was the crucial nourishment of what any university could provide for its students as an educational institution-the atmosphere of the entire department, which Lu's senior schoolmates played an integral part in its creation. Without having to practice still life or plaster painting for exams provided a sense of freedom, which was normally the most expected thing for college freshmen of fine arts major. However, this freedom also promised another challenge: how should one progress from "thematic practices commanded by teachers" to "self-developed artistic orientation." Should one follow the local realism that was popular at the time, and take the path that many famous artists graduated from National Taiwan Normal University had taken? Or, were there other options? Thus, Lu stated, "back then, we were freshmen. Wu Tien-chang was one of the junior students whereas Su Wang-shen, Cheng Chien-chang, and Yang Mao-lin were seniors. Seeing their works, which were completely different from what we saw outside, was quite fresh for us. It made us want to create and see them as our models."
It was also the reason why art graduates of Chinese Culture University from that particular period have become an important group of elite artists in the art field of Taiwan. "Back then, a good thing (about Chinese Culture University) was that the school was not strict, and we cut classes whenever possible. Since the sophomore year, we began to rent a studio space on Yangming Mountain. It was a four-section compound called Witch Cloud Villa. We each occupied one section, and only did two things there. One was drinking and talking, and the other painting." When he decided to take the exam to study fine arts in high school, Lu was "determined to take this path," even though he was completely unaware of what it meant to be "an artist." In that era, it was impossible to sell paintings; and Lu did not give any extra thoughts about the question of where his income would come from. According to him, smarter and more capable (English-speaking and financially equipped) were all preparing to go abroad. As for him, he did nothing except painting everyday. Because there was normally not much chance to win outside competitions, he put most of his efforts into preparing for the student exhibition in school. Due to a postponement of the exhibition, however, the work he created for the exhibition during the winter vacation of the junior year became available for the New Talent Award of Hsiung-Shih Fine Arts, which unexpectedly won the first prize. The prize money was neither of a substantial amount nor inadequate. Either way, it did not make Lu think that he could make money by winning awards. For him, "the good thing about winning these prizes is that it gives you confidence. As for the prize money, I could only recall that it was inevitable to pay for food and wine. The courtyard was covered with empty bottles, and I was happy to invite a bunch of people over to eat and drink."
At that time, the Department of Fine Arts of Chinese Culture University had sixty students in three groups, including design, Chinese ink painting and western painting. Lu explained that he chose western painting out of his own interest as well as the fact that he did not take into consideration his future livelihood and career options after graduation. As for those others that got into the fine arts department and chose western painting or Chinese ink painting, we would not know how many of them had the same ambition as Lu's. Until today, among his classmates from the western painting group, he is the only one that still works as an artist, and there is only another one from the Chinese ink painting group that still paints. Back then, only Taiwan Normal University and Chinese Culture University had fine arts departments; and until ten years ago, there were Teachers Colleges, too. Nowadays, in addition to three universities of the arts, if you count all colleges and junior colleges, which have mostly transformed into universities, there are more than twenty universities that have art-related departments. Lu mentioned, "our generation of Taiwan Normal University graduates either became teachers or did not pursue art anymore. In fact, they were very good, winning prizes in provincial exhibitions or other fine arts exhibitions while we could only admire." The same situation continued until ten years ago when Taiwan Normal University and the Teachers Colleges were still many people's choices for studying in fine arts. Most of the students that got good grades and entered Taiwan Normal University or the Teachers Colleges became reachers after graduation. For Lu, although he was a diligent teacher, because of lacking a teaching education, the job of a teacher was actually more of a means to maintain livelihood instead of something he fully committed to. On the other hand, artistic creation has remained the most important thing for him. Therefore, not being able to get into Taiwan Normal University might have turned out to be the best thing for him.
From this aspect, maybe before the environment of the art education could gradually nurture the students into professional artists or educators, at the time of the university entrance exams, students have been unknowingly classified according to their grades to a certain extent. In the past decades, a college education and degree has been deemed as a necessity, or even a guarantee, for occupational or professional success. However, as institutions for conducting higher education based on differentiated subjects, universities and graduate scheols design their programs for the training of professional knowledge and skills specific to pasticular subjects or techniques, instead of the training of different skilled personnel needed for the operation of a society. To examine the current situation as the country is filled with universities as well as transformed technological and vocational colleges, one could see that a college degree has become a basic requirement for fresh graduates in the current Taiwanese society. Contradictorily, entering a certain university department does not necessarily lead to a future career in the related fields. The same goes for art-related departments. Last year, Tsai Pei-kuei, a professor from the Department of Fine Arts, National Kaohsiung Normal University, has initiated an artistic project based on this phenomenon, titled The Production of Artists. Based on the history and current situation of the department of fine arts in Kaohsiung Normal University, the objective was to explore and discuss how a university's department of fine arts, as a department of a specialized field, could nurture artists or professional personnel in the art field. Furthermore, from another perspective, there are many necessary and important professions and trades that have been excluded from the academic field. However, they have been facing the predicament of talent shortage because everyone is pursuing a bachelor or master degree. This phenomenon could be detected from the current condition of industries involved in exhibition production, such as logistics, woodwork, painting, electricians, media technicians, etc. Should every student of the fine arts departments become artists? Is it possible to have a more detailed categorization of specialized skilled?
Although there were obvious anxieties in my questions, when I asked Lu if he thought there were too many fine arts departments in universities nowadays, he answered me with his usual positive outlook and from a perspective of aesthetic education, opinion, the aesthetic education in Taiwan is still not good enough. Naturally, nor every student from these departments of the arts would become artists. However, if they could inspire people's aesthetic awareness in different parts of the society and enhance the society's understanding of beauty, it would still be a good thing. Our problem lies in the fact that there are too many universities. It is eventually a problem of the entire education system. Of course, it is unlikely to have so many artists because we are a small country with a small population. So, personally, it is fine to have many departments of fine arts. For someone who works in the field of culture, I think it is good. It is just how these students majoring in fine arts should integrate with the society. Putting aside the current situation, among the sixty students from my class, I only know one of them is still painting Chinese ink painting. The others are all working in different trades now." Nonetheless, because of the increase in the number of fine arts departments, the number of artists should be much more in proportion compared to the number decades ago. There is also more specific division of labor in other professions in the field of art. Lu is also distinctively aware of that there are still considerable differences between the contemporary artists' understanding of the arts and that of those who have received an artistic education but work in different fields in the society or work as educators. Being an artist means playing an innovative and pioneering role so that there is a foothold for culture and education. At the end, he added, "it is still a good thing, though. When there are more (artists), there are more galleries."
The Life of an Artist
The appearance of more galleries and exhibition possibilities is probably the most obvious disparity between the time of Lu's youth and the present. "I think the difference is, firstly, when we were young, it was more difficult because there were not many chances to be seen. Secondly, the resources were limited. Galleries were willing to work with me only after I won the award. The students today have more chances. Not just museums. Even large galleries are looking for talents when they are still in schools. There are also many alternative spaces. "When Lu was still in college, Taipei Fine
Arts Museum had not been built. United States Information Service was the only exhibition space for academic exhibitions. After he graduated, he served the military service, and it was during that time when Taipei Fine Arts Museum officially opened. For these artists, they were thrilled to have an appropriate space for exhibitions right after finishing the military service. Because Chinese Culture University's atmosphere, tendency, style, and even the size of artworks were suitable for the museum space and orientation, these artists were able to personally participate in the grand era that was later called the museum era, whether they were participating in competitions, invited for thematic exhibitions by the museum, or applying for exhibitions as a painting school. It was a wonderful memory for Lu Hsien-ming.
In the first exhibition after graduation, Lu actually incorporated many installations. However, after the exhibition that had cost all his savings, he realized that painting was the only creative medium he could afford. This also explained why he focused on painting in his early career, and has only added other media later, including the large sculptural installations in the exhibition, A Tale of Two Cities. It also revealed the fact that an artist's creative choice, in addition to personal interests and specialties, would sometimes be affected by the reality. Like many others, after his military service, Lu opened his own studio. Nevertheless, because artistic creation was where his heart lied, whenever there were competitions or exhibitions, he would stop classes in the studio and concentrated on making his artworks. The number of students in the studio, therefore, remained scant, causing financial difficulties for Lu to the point that he could barely survive. At that time, a classmate of his was about to leave his teaching position at Fu-Hsin Trade and Arts School. Influenced by his parents, Lu finally decided to teach at the school. Although the double incomes allowed Lu to live a decent life, his time for making art had significantly decreased. As a result, he gave up two years later, and started taking various small cases from different sources by himself. He had also worked in a design company. According to him, it was fortunate that the boss of the design company was mean to him; otherwise, he would have stayed and remained a designer then.
"It was probably in 1992, before the birth of my daughter, I won the award called, Contemporary Art Trends in the Republic of China, After that, a relatively new gallery, Taiwan Gallery, contacted me. That was when I started working with galleries, and got more financially secured... At that time, although we had (exhibition) space, the market was limited. It was in the 1990s when the economy was rising. Artists like Yang San-lang and Lee Shih-chiao were the popular mainstream. Contemporary galleries such as Taiwan Gallery were very few... So, it was still not a great time. Paintings were inexpensive and sold to compensate for the agent fees. The gallery did not really profit, and was closed (after three years) due to this reason. Then, I worked with InSian Gallery. After my collaboration with InSian, I taught as a part-time teacher here and there without any proper plans; teaching in universities, taking students out to sketch, all kinds of stuff. It worked for me in a way that if I needed to stop classes, I could sort of manage it."
After that period, Lu actually won another two major awards and continued to work with galleries.
However, he could not escape from the fate of borrowing money for making exhibitions. When asked if he had ever thought about the market demand, he replied that it was precisely the reason why he had to work so hard in such pitiable state. For him, making art has always been based on a single-minded impulse. When he really considered the reality, he always has thought about "What do I do to continue this path I have taken?" instead of "Should I continue in taking this path?" Lu said that artists from his generation and have survived shared his belief more or less. From his observation of the market, he thought that the wave of artistic collection from the 1980s to 1990s should have had some positive effect on the contemporary art in Taiwan. However, China's sudden emergence has influenced the Taiwanese market. He also realized that, instead of having an immediate welcome, his works have always become quite popular and appealing to collectors only after seven or eight years of their creation. At the moment, it is another static period for him. So, he could only comfort himself with the idea that an artist's theme and concerns are always ahead of his time. Collectors have rarely been able to support and appreciate the artworks at the time.
Hence, he could only continue his work and wait in patience for the right time to come.
The little human figure that largely appeared in Lu's early works was a character that reflected his observations on the society and environment as well as a kind of self-reflection. In his later, most renowned Road Bridge series, or in Urban Theater series that depicted the middle and lower class people, this little figure still appeared as a form of the artist's signature in some insignificant places of the paintings, seemingly running with his hair flowing behind. In this interview, Lu mentioned a significant work that only a few people had seen. It was after 1989, the Tiananmen Square protests, the museum held a competition. Young and confident about winning, Lu ordered a large all-in-one-piece wood panel that was three-meter long and two-meter high, and painted directly in his living room after he removed the French windows to accommodate the piece. He used the little man as his key character and based the painting on the theme of the June Fourth Incident, anticipating that the painting would win a prize and be collected by the museum afterwards. Things turned out to be otherwise. After the work was returned, it was kept at a few different places and ended up stored at a friend's studio. After his friend moved away, Lu heard from the mover that his friend left the painting to him, who burned the work later. The significant piece, titled A Father, Who Has Killed His Own Son, Defiled His Daughter Tonight, with a dramatic scene of light and shadow and was filled with symbols, had been a work of the time that showed the confidence of the artist. It still pained Lu to think that because the painting did not win any prize, it had come to an aggrieving end similar to its theme.
In A Tale of Two Cities, the little man that has always played a leading role in Lu's mind finally became the center of the exhibition as he wished. However, this large-scale sculpture in stainless steel that has created a debt of nearly a million dollars was still needed to be "lent a place for storage," just like that great painting completed more than twenty years ago. Being called an artist throughout the years and with the glory of solo and group exhibitions and works collected by domestic and international museums, Lu still needs to face and deal with financial problems everyday, even though he is already one of the prominent artists in Taiwanese art history in my mind. Speaking about the booming, maturing art market in Taiwan in recent decades, we talked about how young creators could sell their works as artists to make a living. However, as Lu stated, the maturing market did not really change much for them because, at this age, they were no longer inexperienced artists that galleries could control. On the other hand, he has also observed that young artists might have been influenced once they could have a stable life after entering the art market. For instance, their ambition and tendency to experiment might gradually weaken as they start to accommodate, and even make compromises for, their collaborators. Nevertheless, even though this might be the case, art graduates who do not have the patronage and support of galleries would often need to seek out other works that provide a steady income to sustain their artistic work (and most of them would slowly disappear from this path at this moment); they would also need to actively participate in award competitions, apply for subsidies and grants, and maximize their exposure in exhibitions, etc., to carry on their artistic careers. It is the same in Taiwan as well as around the world, and apparently, the situation has stayed relatively unchanged throughout the forty years. Only a handful of artists could make a decent living by selling artworks. As time has passed, the most visible change might be the multiplication of museums and galleries, in which the possibility of working as an artist has formed and people's understanding of it has increased. Additionally, the number of awards and subsidies has grown more. Yet, there are more people working in artistic creation today, creating more competition. As the division of labor becomes more specific and specialized, little by little, the role of an artist is not the only choice for art personnel. Artists might also tailor-make their works according to the providers of subsidies, collaborating galleries, curators, or even other creators around them. In the past four decades, however, Lu has never changed or wondered what kind of artist he wanted to be.
An Artist's Position
Most of the articles that talked about Lu's work emphasized on its relation to the city he lived in and the urban environment, which has been essential in his work indeed. However, I found that what Lu cared about was the society and its people; furthermore, he observed and contemplated on these issues from a perspective that encompassed the entire historical context.
I have always thought that, apart from winning prestigious awards, holding exhibitions at respectable venues, having works collected, an artist would always hope to become an academically recognized master and be recorded in art history. However, what Lu had said regarding the Taipei Art Group, talking abour how he has deemed himself "little," has left me surprised and shaken. "At that time, members of the Taipei Art Group often had gatherings. At around thirty years old or so, we had already realized that our generation could never have had great achievements. The achievement I am referring to is something like becoming a great master of art. What we could do was to become stepping-stones for later generations so that they could climb up and high and become outstanding and renowned on our shoulders. Without us being stepping-stones, they could not get to the top because the environment in Taiwan was a lot worse than it is now. There were neither chances nor resources. If an artist wanted to become famous and exceptional, he would have to be excellent in school so that he could have good opportunities, resources and supporters after graduation. With all these elements and his own talent, such an artist would be seen and known very fast and become a superstar that was able to guide or initiate something. It was not the case for us. At nearly sixty years old, we still have very little resources and rely on such a stubborn passion to carry on. The truth is that we have been aware of this since our youth. Once we start, we will continue, accepting that our achievement would reach a limit."
This kind of thinking, in which Lu willingly transformed himself into the roots at the bottom that received little light, was identical to his personality. Perhaps, it had something to do with the past that they had tried to link with the international art scene and had studied the international trends since they were in the May Painting Society, the Eastern Painting Society, and the Taipei Art Group. Since then, Lu has been reflecting and opposing this phenomenon, believing that it was unnecessary to keep following other's steps, and endeavoring in re-emphasizing his own life and this land in his work. In that era when styles and trends were still visible, as artists in Taiwan lacked resources and opportunities while facing chaotic political conditions and social changes, their works mostly originated from the surrounding environment, directly faced everything around them, and responded accordingly. When l asked his view on the current situation, in which young artists' works nowadays usually started from and discussed the artists themselves, some academic theories, or the chosen artistic media he disclose that he did not know whether this should be taken as a generational change and wondered why roday's art has been severed from the society. For him, he found it difficult to break from the status that "the entire society provided artistic creation its nourishment as its umbilical cords connected in to the outside." As young artists, they were completely submerged in artistic creation all the tim giving it profound contemplation and transforming their observations and concerns into works. A a member of the younger generation. I think the reason of his mich ha hecause our cameracion ha never experienced that chaotic time of the history and happened to grow up in a era with social and economic stability: with the impact of informacion and media explosion, our generatian has become what it is like now. However, when I asked whether there would be another wave of artists whose works would be closely related to our society given the fact that Taiwan has experienced another social change in the past few years, which forced this generation to face issues of economy and politics, Lu still could not be certain. In my mind, such a question was linked to the position of an artist. From my point of view, Lu not only sees himself as an artist, he also recognizes himself as a social and cultural worker.
"I can only speak for myself. I have positioned myself in this way that as we see the art created by the people in the past, we have gained a lot from it, understood the trodden paths of the human race and its spirit. I hope to become part of it and be able to contribute to the cultural history of mankind so that the future generations can see what I have created and left; whether it is to enrich the future, or it is to interpret the time, the events, the space that we have experienced or things that have happened to us, this is what I want to do. That's it. I do not have any other greater thoughts. As we review the history, we know the future. We review the past art to know this, so this is what I would do." In the cultural development in history, through the acute sensibility and observation of an artist, Lu tries to preserve the present for the future by doing what he is good at. This is the position he has taken as an artist. As a matter of fact, if we leave the artistic achievements for art scholars to discuss, such a position may seem similar to the other means like photography, writing or video. Nevertheless, through various media and forms of expression, dialogues and communication in multiple ways with the people in the society, around us and in the future could be created; instead of mere documentation or representation, what the art preserves is the reflections and responses of contemporary artists. Personally speaking, this is exactly why art is irreplaceable.
Perhaps, including Lu Hsien-ming, his generation of artists did not give much thought about being artists as their occupation. So, some of them travel around to trade jade, while some of them work part-time and draw engineering structural drawings; but none of them has ever considered the situation pitiable that they have to do other jobs to earn money for their artistic work. The environment today might have been different, and being an artist seems to be a viable career option. Not only there are books that guide the up-and-coming artists, there are also more and more artists that interact with collectors at art fairs to introduce their works. More galleries and agents have gone into schools to give lectures or serve as judges in competitions. Market orientation, packaging of artworks, and career planning are topics discussed in class. However, many similar difficulties have persisted until today. After three years of unyielding demand, Artist Trade Union was officially established in 2011. With Taipei Art Creator Trade Union as its official name, its establishment was a validation for the official recognition of artists being an occupation. However, in terms of being artist as an occupation, apart from being recognized as a real job and all the artistic achievements, Lu's experience as an artist has propelled me to think about "the relationship between artists and the framework of culture." As a link in culture, art has an inseparable relationship to the society, the environment, the public as well as the history. Maybe it is due to the specialization and the flourishing of the art market, the development of art seems to have become an issue for a small group of people. Nowadays, whether in terms of the education in schools or the structure of the environment, artist as an occupation is no longer a problem. Nonetheless, I still believe it is a topic worthy of our discussion. Although there is an age difference of forty years, old school and nostalgic as I am, I have the same expectation as Lu Hsien, which is to continuously enable the value of artists to be seen in the examination of the society and cultural history. This way, maybe some day in the future, when an elementary school teacher ask an artistically talented child if he or she wanted to become a painter, there would be sparkling hope in the child's eyes, and the child would smile and nod eagerly.
Artist
I have liked to paint since I was a child, and joined many children's drawing competitions and won awards. Naturally, there would be teachers asking me if I wanted to be a painter when I grew up. I always answered "no," thinking that why someone would wanted to be a painter when there were so many wonderful things to pursue.
—Lu Hsien-ming
I forgot to ask Lu Hsien (the Chinese word "hsien" is a homonym, referring to a celestial being) after the interview that day: if he could choose again, would he still want to be an artist in his next life?
The Education of an Artist
People who have watched the interview created specially for the exhibition at MOCA, Taipei, titled A Tale of Two Cities-Lu Hsien-ming Exhibition: Glimpses of Cities, would definitely recall Lu Hsien, as most people would call him, expressed brightly wearing a pair of round, black-framed spectacles, his gratitude towards his art teachers for sending him on to the path of becoming an artist. It was about forty years ago when there were only two universities that had fine arts departments. To think that Lu was able to meet teachers who encouraged students to pursue a career in art is still an incredible awakening and support for someone like me, a person from a younger generation twenty years behind and had studied in art classes and fine arts departments since junior high school.
After finishing his junior high school education, Lu gor into the private Yanping High School, after waiting as a candidate for a vacancy. For someone who was not good at studying, the two art teachers there had major influences on him. The first teacher was Mr. Chien Ke-ming, who taught Lu in his freshman year. "This was what the teacher said to me, you'll need to compete with others when you start working. Since you cannot get good grades, you will have many competitors if you choose any other professions, and it will not be easy for you to stand out among others. However, you are already so much better than many people in painting. You will have much fewer competitors in this field?' That was when I became aware, and since that moment, I was more goal-oriented in school. I knew why I should study, and was able to learn."
In such an education system in Taiwan, which almost only assesses an individual's value by exams and grades, the pressure of cramming for tests and the frustration of feeling trapped in a system of exams and being poor at studying have never been eliminated but simply distorted by the educational reform. The lives of junior high and high school students, and even those of the elementary school students, almost center single-mindedly on studying. The idea that one would not be able to achieve anything without good grades still exists in the minds of many parents and teachers today. However, learning should not be equaled to memorizing, and education should not be merely cramming. To evaluate a student according to his or her academic performance and exam grades is just one of many approaches. Nonetheless, many of the students' characteristics or talents are suppressed or dormant in a system like this. Creative or philosophical thinking is always the first thing to be sacrificed in the primary education in Taiwan. In terms of artistic education, there are rarely proper art teachers in clementary schools, and the subject is usually taught by homeroom teachers. In junior high and high schools, although there are full-time art teachers, art class hours are commonly "borrowed" or taken for enhancing students' learning in other subjects or even for quizzes. Remembering his high school years, perhaps because it was a private school or his art teachers had their own ideal and insisted on their belief, Lu was able to fully enjoy every single art lesson; and maybe it was because he mer the right teachers, Lu did not have much hesitation in terms of his choice for the future, and had the chance to experience and witness the importance of cultivating aesthetics in the system of education.
Although the acceptance rate of universities is more one hundred per cent today, it has not been the case in Lu's time. In those days, there were only two universities that had fine arts departments. He laughingly said that while it would take others quite some days to fill out their preference cards, it only took him five seconds. Like many others, he also ranked his preferences according to the acceptance grades, and failed to enter his first choice, National Taiwan Normal University, and got into Chinese Culture University. He was so depressed that he wanted to immediately start preparing for retaking the entrance exam. At that time, his art teacher in the junior and senior year, Mr. Huang Tsai-lang, who happened to be a Chinese Culcure University graduate and live near Lu's family, encouraged him to enroll first to see if he liked the school before considering dropping out and retaking the entrance. Huang was the second teacher that helped Lu be one more step closer to become an artist.
"As a result, I fell in love with it right after I began. I lucked out. In those days, Chinese Culture University was actually quite nice because it did not have any baggage." The key that changed Lu's mind was the crucial nourishment of what any university could provide for its students as an educational institution-the atmosphere of the entire department, which Lu's senior schoolmates played an integral part in its creation. Without having to practice still life or plaster painting for exams provided a sense of freedom, which was normally the most expected thing for college freshmen of fine arts major. However, this freedom also promised another challenge: how should one progress from "thematic practices commanded by teachers" to "self-developed artistic orientation." Should one follow the local realism that was popular at the time, and take the path that many famous artists graduated from National Taiwan Normal University had taken? Or, were there other options? Thus, Lu stated, "back then, we were freshmen. Wu Tien-chang was one of the junior students whereas Su Wang-shen, Cheng Chien-chang, and Yang Mao-lin were seniors. Seeing their works, which were completely different from what we saw outside, was quite fresh for us. It made us want to create and see them as our models."
It was also the reason why art graduates of Chinese Culture University from that particular period have become an important group of elite artists in the art field of Taiwan. "Back then, a good thing (about Chinese Culture University) was that the school was not strict, and we cut classes whenever possible. Since the sophomore year, we began to rent a studio space on Yangming Mountain. It was a four-section compound called Witch Cloud Villa. We each occupied one section, and only did two things there. One was drinking and talking, and the other painting." When he decided to take the exam to study fine arts in high school, Lu was "determined to take this path," even though he was completely unaware of what it meant to be "an artist." In that era, it was impossible to sell paintings; and Lu did not give any extra thoughts about the question of where his income would come from. According to him, smarter and more capable (English-speaking and financially equipped) were all preparing to go abroad. As for him, he did nothing except painting everyday. Because there was normally not much chance to win outside competitions, he put most of his efforts into preparing for the student exhibition in school. Due to a postponement of the exhibition, however, the work he created for the exhibition during the winter vacation of the junior year became available for the New Talent Award of Hsiung-Shih Fine Arts, which unexpectedly won the first prize. The prize money was neither of a substantial amount nor inadequate. Either way, it did not make Lu think that he could make money by winning awards. For him, "the good thing about winning these prizes is that it gives you confidence. As for the prize money, I could only recall that it was inevitable to pay for food and wine. The courtyard was covered with empty bottles, and I was happy to invite a bunch of people over to eat and drink."
At that time, the Department of Fine Arts of Chinese Culture University had sixty students in three groups, including design, Chinese ink painting and western painting. Lu explained that he chose western painting out of his own interest as well as the fact that he did not take into consideration his future livelihood and career options after graduation. As for those others that got into the fine arts department and chose western painting or Chinese ink painting, we would not know how many of them had the same ambition as Lu's. Until today, among his classmates from the western painting group, he is the only one that still works as an artist, and there is only another one from the Chinese ink painting group that still paints. Back then, only Taiwan Normal University and Chinese Culture University had fine arts departments; and until ten years ago, there were Teachers Colleges, too. Nowadays, in addition to three universities of the arts, if you count all colleges and junior colleges, which have mostly transformed into universities, there are more than twenty universities that have art-related departments. Lu mentioned, "our generation of Taiwan Normal University graduates either became teachers or did not pursue art anymore. In fact, they were very good, winning prizes in provincial exhibitions or other fine arts exhibitions while we could only admire." The same situation continued until ten years ago when Taiwan Normal University and the Teachers Colleges were still many people's choices for studying in fine arts. Most of the students that got good grades and entered Taiwan Normal University or the Teachers Colleges became reachers after graduation. For Lu, although he was a diligent teacher, because of lacking a teaching education, the job of a teacher was actually more of a means to maintain livelihood instead of something he fully committed to. On the other hand, artistic creation has remained the most important thing for him. Therefore, not being able to get into Taiwan Normal University might have turned out to be the best thing for him.
From this aspect, maybe before the environment of the art education could gradually nurture the students into professional artists or educators, at the time of the university entrance exams, students have been unknowingly classified according to their grades to a certain extent. In the past decades, a college education and degree has been deemed as a necessity, or even a guarantee, for occupational or professional success. However, as institutions for conducting higher education based on differentiated subjects, universities and graduate scheols design their programs for the training of professional knowledge and skills specific to pasticular subjects or techniques, instead of the training of different skilled personnel needed for the operation of a society. To examine the current situation as the country is filled with universities as well as transformed technological and vocational colleges, one could see that a college degree has become a basic requirement for fresh graduates in the current Taiwanese society. Contradictorily, entering a certain university department does not necessarily lead to a future career in the related fields. The same goes for art-related departments. Last year, Tsai Pei-kuei, a professor from the Department of Fine Arts, National Kaohsiung Normal University, has initiated an artistic project based on this phenomenon, titled The Production of Artists. Based on the history and current situation of the department of fine arts in Kaohsiung Normal University, the objective was to explore and discuss how a university's department of fine arts, as a department of a specialized field, could nurture artists or professional personnel in the art field. Furthermore, from another perspective, there are many necessary and important professions and trades that have been excluded from the academic field. However, they have been facing the predicament of talent shortage because everyone is pursuing a bachelor or master degree. This phenomenon could be detected from the current condition of industries involved in exhibition production, such as logistics, woodwork, painting, electricians, media technicians, etc. Should every student of the fine arts departments become artists? Is it possible to have a more detailed categorization of specialized skilled?
Although there were obvious anxieties in my questions, when I asked Lu if he thought there were too many fine arts departments in universities nowadays, he answered me with his usual positive outlook and from a perspective of aesthetic education, opinion, the aesthetic education in Taiwan is still not good enough. Naturally, nor every student from these departments of the arts would become artists. However, if they could inspire people's aesthetic awareness in different parts of the society and enhance the society's understanding of beauty, it would still be a good thing. Our problem lies in the fact that there are too many universities. It is eventually a problem of the entire education system. Of course, it is unlikely to have so many artists because we are a small country with a small population. So, personally, it is fine to have many departments of fine arts. For someone who works in the field of culture, I think it is good. It is just how these students majoring in fine arts should integrate with the society. Putting aside the current situation, among the sixty students from my class, I only know one of them is still painting Chinese ink painting. The others are all working in different trades now." Nonetheless, because of the increase in the number of fine arts departments, the number of artists should be much more in proportion compared to the number decades ago. There is also more specific division of labor in other professions in the field of art. Lu is also distinctively aware of that there are still considerable differences between the contemporary artists' understanding of the arts and that of those who have received an artistic education but work in different fields in the society or work as educators. Being an artist means playing an innovative and pioneering role so that there is a foothold for culture and education. At the end, he added, "it is still a good thing, though. When there are more (artists), there are more galleries."
The Life of an Artist
The appearance of more galleries and exhibition possibilities is probably the most obvious disparity between the time of Lu's youth and the present. "I think the difference is, firstly, when we were young, it was more difficult because there were not many chances to be seen. Secondly, the resources were limited. Galleries were willing to work with me only after I won the award. The students today have more chances. Not just museums. Even large galleries are looking for talents when they are still in schools. There are also many alternative spaces. "When Lu was still in college, Taipei Fine
Arts Museum had not been built. United States Information Service was the only exhibition space for academic exhibitions. After he graduated, he served the military service, and it was during that time when Taipei Fine Arts Museum officially opened. For these artists, they were thrilled to have an appropriate space for exhibitions right after finishing the military service. Because Chinese Culture University's atmosphere, tendency, style, and even the size of artworks were suitable for the museum space and orientation, these artists were able to personally participate in the grand era that was later called the museum era, whether they were participating in competitions, invited for thematic exhibitions by the museum, or applying for exhibitions as a painting school. It was a wonderful memory for Lu Hsien-ming.
In the first exhibition after graduation, Lu actually incorporated many installations. However, after the exhibition that had cost all his savings, he realized that painting was the only creative medium he could afford. This also explained why he focused on painting in his early career, and has only added other media later, including the large sculptural installations in the exhibition, A Tale of Two Cities. It also revealed the fact that an artist's creative choice, in addition to personal interests and specialties, would sometimes be affected by the reality. Like many others, after his military service, Lu opened his own studio. Nevertheless, because artistic creation was where his heart lied, whenever there were competitions or exhibitions, he would stop classes in the studio and concentrated on making his artworks. The number of students in the studio, therefore, remained scant, causing financial difficulties for Lu to the point that he could barely survive. At that time, a classmate of his was about to leave his teaching position at Fu-Hsin Trade and Arts School. Influenced by his parents, Lu finally decided to teach at the school. Although the double incomes allowed Lu to live a decent life, his time for making art had significantly decreased. As a result, he gave up two years later, and started taking various small cases from different sources by himself. He had also worked in a design company. According to him, it was fortunate that the boss of the design company was mean to him; otherwise, he would have stayed and remained a designer then.
"It was probably in 1992, before the birth of my daughter, I won the award called, Contemporary Art Trends in the Republic of China, After that, a relatively new gallery, Taiwan Gallery, contacted me. That was when I started working with galleries, and got more financially secured... At that time, although we had (exhibition) space, the market was limited. It was in the 1990s when the economy was rising. Artists like Yang San-lang and Lee Shih-chiao were the popular mainstream. Contemporary galleries such as Taiwan Gallery were very few... So, it was still not a great time. Paintings were inexpensive and sold to compensate for the agent fees. The gallery did not really profit, and was closed (after three years) due to this reason. Then, I worked with InSian Gallery. After my collaboration with InSian, I taught as a part-time teacher here and there without any proper plans; teaching in universities, taking students out to sketch, all kinds of stuff. It worked for me in a way that if I needed to stop classes, I could sort of manage it."
After that period, Lu actually won another two major awards and continued to work with galleries.
However, he could not escape from the fate of borrowing money for making exhibitions. When asked if he had ever thought about the market demand, he replied that it was precisely the reason why he had to work so hard in such pitiable state. For him, making art has always been based on a single-minded impulse. When he really considered the reality, he always has thought about "What do I do to continue this path I have taken?" instead of "Should I continue in taking this path?" Lu said that artists from his generation and have survived shared his belief more or less. From his observation of the market, he thought that the wave of artistic collection from the 1980s to 1990s should have had some positive effect on the contemporary art in Taiwan. However, China's sudden emergence has influenced the Taiwanese market. He also realized that, instead of having an immediate welcome, his works have always become quite popular and appealing to collectors only after seven or eight years of their creation. At the moment, it is another static period for him. So, he could only comfort himself with the idea that an artist's theme and concerns are always ahead of his time. Collectors have rarely been able to support and appreciate the artworks at the time.
Hence, he could only continue his work and wait in patience for the right time to come.
The little human figure that largely appeared in Lu's early works was a character that reflected his observations on the society and environment as well as a kind of self-reflection. In his later, most renowned Road Bridge series, or in Urban Theater series that depicted the middle and lower class people, this little figure still appeared as a form of the artist's signature in some insignificant places of the paintings, seemingly running with his hair flowing behind. In this interview, Lu mentioned a significant work that only a few people had seen. It was after 1989, the Tiananmen Square protests, the museum held a competition. Young and confident about winning, Lu ordered a large all-in-one-piece wood panel that was three-meter long and two-meter high, and painted directly in his living room after he removed the French windows to accommodate the piece. He used the little man as his key character and based the painting on the theme of the June Fourth Incident, anticipating that the painting would win a prize and be collected by the museum afterwards. Things turned out to be otherwise. After the work was returned, it was kept at a few different places and ended up stored at a friend's studio. After his friend moved away, Lu heard from the mover that his friend left the painting to him, who burned the work later. The significant piece, titled A Father, Who Has Killed His Own Son, Defiled His Daughter Tonight, with a dramatic scene of light and shadow and was filled with symbols, had been a work of the time that showed the confidence of the artist. It still pained Lu to think that because the painting did not win any prize, it had come to an aggrieving end similar to its theme.
In A Tale of Two Cities, the little man that has always played a leading role in Lu's mind finally became the center of the exhibition as he wished. However, this large-scale sculpture in stainless steel that has created a debt of nearly a million dollars was still needed to be "lent a place for storage," just like that great painting completed more than twenty years ago. Being called an artist throughout the years and with the glory of solo and group exhibitions and works collected by domestic and international museums, Lu still needs to face and deal with financial problems everyday, even though he is already one of the prominent artists in Taiwanese art history in my mind. Speaking about the booming, maturing art market in Taiwan in recent decades, we talked about how young creators could sell their works as artists to make a living. However, as Lu stated, the maturing market did not really change much for them because, at this age, they were no longer inexperienced artists that galleries could control. On the other hand, he has also observed that young artists might have been influenced once they could have a stable life after entering the art market. For instance, their ambition and tendency to experiment might gradually weaken as they start to accommodate, and even make compromises for, their collaborators. Nevertheless, even though this might be the case, art graduates who do not have the patronage and support of galleries would often need to seek out other works that provide a steady income to sustain their artistic work (and most of them would slowly disappear from this path at this moment); they would also need to actively participate in award competitions, apply for subsidies and grants, and maximize their exposure in exhibitions, etc., to carry on their artistic careers. It is the same in Taiwan as well as around the world, and apparently, the situation has stayed relatively unchanged throughout the forty years. Only a handful of artists could make a decent living by selling artworks. As time has passed, the most visible change might be the multiplication of museums and galleries, in which the possibility of working as an artist has formed and people's understanding of it has increased. Additionally, the number of awards and subsidies has grown more. Yet, there are more people working in artistic creation today, creating more competition. As the division of labor becomes more specific and specialized, little by little, the role of an artist is not the only choice for art personnel. Artists might also tailor-make their works according to the providers of subsidies, collaborating galleries, curators, or even other creators around them. In the past four decades, however, Lu has never changed or wondered what kind of artist he wanted to be.
An Artist's Position
Most of the articles that talked about Lu's work emphasized on its relation to the city he lived in and the urban environment, which has been essential in his work indeed. However, I found that what Lu cared about was the society and its people; furthermore, he observed and contemplated on these issues from a perspective that encompassed the entire historical context.
I have always thought that, apart from winning prestigious awards, holding exhibitions at respectable venues, having works collected, an artist would always hope to become an academically recognized master and be recorded in art history. However, what Lu had said regarding the Taipei Art Group, talking abour how he has deemed himself "little," has left me surprised and shaken. "At that time, members of the Taipei Art Group often had gatherings. At around thirty years old or so, we had already realized that our generation could never have had great achievements. The achievement I am referring to is something like becoming a great master of art. What we could do was to become stepping-stones for later generations so that they could climb up and high and become outstanding and renowned on our shoulders. Without us being stepping-stones, they could not get to the top because the environment in Taiwan was a lot worse than it is now. There were neither chances nor resources. If an artist wanted to become famous and exceptional, he would have to be excellent in school so that he could have good opportunities, resources and supporters after graduation. With all these elements and his own talent, such an artist would be seen and known very fast and become a superstar that was able to guide or initiate something. It was not the case for us. At nearly sixty years old, we still have very little resources and rely on such a stubborn passion to carry on. The truth is that we have been aware of this since our youth. Once we start, we will continue, accepting that our achievement would reach a limit."
This kind of thinking, in which Lu willingly transformed himself into the roots at the bottom that received little light, was identical to his personality. Perhaps, it had something to do with the past that they had tried to link with the international art scene and had studied the international trends since they were in the May Painting Society, the Eastern Painting Society, and the Taipei Art Group. Since then, Lu has been reflecting and opposing this phenomenon, believing that it was unnecessary to keep following other's steps, and endeavoring in re-emphasizing his own life and this land in his work. In that era when styles and trends were still visible, as artists in Taiwan lacked resources and opportunities while facing chaotic political conditions and social changes, their works mostly originated from the surrounding environment, directly faced everything around them, and responded accordingly. When l asked his view on the current situation, in which young artists' works nowadays usually started from and discussed the artists themselves, some academic theories, or the chosen artistic media he disclose that he did not know whether this should be taken as a generational change and wondered why roday's art has been severed from the society. For him, he found it difficult to break from the status that "the entire society provided artistic creation its nourishment as its umbilical cords connected in to the outside." As young artists, they were completely submerged in artistic creation all the tim giving it profound contemplation and transforming their observations and concerns into works. A a member of the younger generation. I think the reason of his mich ha hecause our cameracion ha never experienced that chaotic time of the history and happened to grow up in a era with social and economic stability: with the impact of informacion and media explosion, our generatian has become what it is like now. However, when I asked whether there would be another wave of artists whose works would be closely related to our society given the fact that Taiwan has experienced another social change in the past few years, which forced this generation to face issues of economy and politics, Lu still could not be certain. In my mind, such a question was linked to the position of an artist. From my point of view, Lu not only sees himself as an artist, he also recognizes himself as a social and cultural worker.
"I can only speak for myself. I have positioned myself in this way that as we see the art created by the people in the past, we have gained a lot from it, understood the trodden paths of the human race and its spirit. I hope to become part of it and be able to contribute to the cultural history of mankind so that the future generations can see what I have created and left; whether it is to enrich the future, or it is to interpret the time, the events, the space that we have experienced or things that have happened to us, this is what I want to do. That's it. I do not have any other greater thoughts. As we review the history, we know the future. We review the past art to know this, so this is what I would do." In the cultural development in history, through the acute sensibility and observation of an artist, Lu tries to preserve the present for the future by doing what he is good at. This is the position he has taken as an artist. As a matter of fact, if we leave the artistic achievements for art scholars to discuss, such a position may seem similar to the other means like photography, writing or video. Nevertheless, through various media and forms of expression, dialogues and communication in multiple ways with the people in the society, around us and in the future could be created; instead of mere documentation or representation, what the art preserves is the reflections and responses of contemporary artists. Personally speaking, this is exactly why art is irreplaceable.
Perhaps, including Lu Hsien-ming, his generation of artists did not give much thought about being artists as their occupation. So, some of them travel around to trade jade, while some of them work part-time and draw engineering structural drawings; but none of them has ever considered the situation pitiable that they have to do other jobs to earn money for their artistic work. The environment today might have been different, and being an artist seems to be a viable career option. Not only there are books that guide the up-and-coming artists, there are also more and more artists that interact with collectors at art fairs to introduce their works. More galleries and agents have gone into schools to give lectures or serve as judges in competitions. Market orientation, packaging of artworks, and career planning are topics discussed in class. However, many similar difficulties have persisted until today. After three years of unyielding demand, Artist Trade Union was officially established in 2011. With Taipei Art Creator Trade Union as its official name, its establishment was a validation for the official recognition of artists being an occupation. However, in terms of being artist as an occupation, apart from being recognized as a real job and all the artistic achievements, Lu's experience as an artist has propelled me to think about "the relationship between artists and the framework of culture." As a link in culture, art has an inseparable relationship to the society, the environment, the public as well as the history. Maybe it is due to the specialization and the flourishing of the art market, the development of art seems to have become an issue for a small group of people. Nowadays, whether in terms of the education in schools or the structure of the environment, artist as an occupation is no longer a problem. Nonetheless, I still believe it is a topic worthy of our discussion. Although there is an age difference of forty years, old school and nostalgic as I am, I have the same expectation as Lu Hsien, which is to continuously enable the value of artists to be seen in the examination of the society and cultural history. This way, maybe some day in the future, when an elementary school teacher ask an artistically talented child if he or she wanted to become a painter, there would be sparkling hope in the child's eyes, and the child would smile and nod eagerly.