The Second Asia-Pacific Triennial of Contemporary Art exhibition catalogue (APT2)

Lee Ming-Tse, born in southern Taiwan in 1957, is a self-taught Taiwanese artist. Working in the Western medium of acrylic, Lee is still influenced by traditional Chinese literati (scholar) artists who, painting in ink or colour on rice paper or silk, sought to communicate their spiritual and moral feelings. In viewing Taiwanese art it is important to realise the three influences that have affected its development: the introduction of Western art to Taiwan under Japanese colonial rule (1895-1945) by Taiwanese artists who studied Western oil painting in Japan; the reintroduction of traditional Chinese painting when the Kuomintang established themselves in Taiwan in 1949; and the development of the modern Chinese painting movement initiated by the East and Fifth Moon Groups in the late 1950s.Today, Taiwanese art reflects these forces. In his subtle criticism of the rapidly changing face of Taiwanese society, Lee's paintings reflect the island's history and the suppression of nature as Taiwan has developed dramatically from a sleepy agricultural to a highly industrialised society. Lee is known for his lyrical, surreal, 'boneless' style and opaque, coloured works in which he combines Chinese narrative and visual language techniques with contemporary Western painting styles. Lee believes that traditional thinking and observation are the source of creation. Shy and nostalgic about his childhood village, Lee says, 'when I was little I always liked to listen to mythology stories which are the source of my imagination.The real world is like the palm of the hand, crisscrossed. These feelings, transformed into painting, give me a sense of surprise and excitement.' Using acrylic on Aday in the life of an artist 1994 Synthetic polymer paint on canvas 194x672cm Collection: The artist canvas or paper pulp (sometimes torn at the edges) for his often fragmentary paintings, Lee juxtaposes widely disparate images, saying, 'I always try and use the simplest way, an object or colour with which you and I are familiar, to express my thinking and feeling'.The artist himself, clothed or unclothed, is a recurring image. Lee depicts himself carrying a fan and wearing a scholar's cap, the attributes of the literati painter whom Lee believes he was in ancient times. Lee continues to use colour washes to divide the canvas into different scenes, a technique which he used in earlier paintings such as Jiun ou village 1992. In 1994, he produced a series of Buddha images.The blank, inward-looking face of each Buddha is deliberately smudged or partially obliterated, reflecting unknown imperfections. In A day in the life of an artist 1994 Lee expresses his observations of the overlapping, contradictory faces of Taiwan. In form and content the painting resembles a traditional Chinese scroll painting which is leisurely viewed from right to left as it is slowly unrolled. But the six panels cannot be unrolled, they confront the viewer. The worlds of industrialisation, with the accompanying environmental pollution colliding with Buddhism, are depicted on the right and left– hand panels. The centre panels reveal, in the exposed interior of his spacious pavilion, the surreal contradictions of the artist's life. In the garden the artist-scholar observes his surroundings, but this is not a quiet, traditional garden full of paths, ponds and plants. It is full of streetlights, benches, a car and a bicycle. Reminiscent of the past, a healthy tree occupies the foreground but the present impedes with drooping, leafless trees. In the right-hand panel the denuded, once mountainous landscape of Kaohsiung, now covered with cubist shapes and perilously teetering buildings, writhes in agony as clouds of smoke belch from the cement factories. A few trees desperately wave their branches as they sink into the landscape covered with factories and power stations. A tiger, representing all that was once natural on the island, defends himself against the goblin of a nuclear power plant. The left-hand panel, dedicated to Buddhism, fails to offer solace. The apparently traditional Chinese landscape painting of rocks and water with its Buddhist icons-the lotus, a symbol of purity; a turtle, symbolising longevity; fish and water– reveals that eroticism, in the implied female sexuality of the rocks, has invaded this 'pure world'. The head of a Buddha, its lewd face defiled, is placed on the neck of an unnatural, large purple turtle with human hands and feet. Purity is overwhelmed by corruption and pollution. Bewildered by Taiwan's changing social fabric, Lee presents an enigma. Maggie Pai, Art Critic, Taipei Note: Acrylic paint is referred to as synthetic polymer paint in this catalogue. ARTISTS EAST ASIA I 67