Su Yu-Hsien：
Bringing someone home to spend the night is in fact embarrassing to me since my home is just a place where I sleep. I spend most of my time working here in Fotoaura Institute of Photography. As an artist, this venue feels more realistic to me, compared to where I live. Therefore, when the project of “Coming to My Place” came to me, I have thought about where the proper place for both us to spend the night in would be. Then, I found hotels would be a nice choice, because I personally kind of enjoying staying in them. When Lee Kit visits Tainan or my place, it does not feel that realistic for me to take on the role of a Tainan local residents. I feel more like an outsider, someone visiting from other places instead. Thus, why not let these two “strangers” stay in an inn together, taking away the obvious reference of “home”? It was my initial idea, yet we eventually went back to my place.
Decoding the “Politics”
Chen Hsiang-Wen：
We discussed about the tendency of people making connection between politics and the works yesterday. Some might intentionally be detached from or keep a distance from political matters though. Some just even do not care. What position do you hold in each of your perspective? Su mentioned some works by emerging directors from Hong Kong and others by Taiwanese visual artists. I suppose both of you must have a specefic stance that you adhere to.
Su Yu-Hsien：
We talked about the false dilemma people had fabricated yesterday, between politics, history, and fine art. I have always thought so when it came to the subject of such dilemma. While reading the Theatre Quarterly, I truly felt like reading the manga, Naruto, where there is a good guy and a bad guy, Naruto and Sasuke. The sense of opposition reminds me of the breakup between pro-social realism leftists such as Liu Da-Ren, Chen Ying-Zhen and pro-avant-garde artists such as Chiu Kang-Chien and Huang Hua-Chen who are more avant-garde with their art. The former ones eventually left the Theatre Quarterly and launched the Literature Quarterly. It was such a pity, because they were collectively facing a more daunting situation at the time, which had to do with the censorship that the Taiwanese government had imposed on art and culture. If there existed an oppositional force, it was actually originated from the entire era and the whole society. It should not have resulted from the false dilemma between them.
So, are there any opposition between political art and fine art or not? I could not say for sure. However, I have always found that when people are discussing about the dilemma, they are not really trying to negate the other side, but to establish something that they do not originally have instead. Through criticizing others for being too political, ones are actually proving the purity of the fine art which perhaps they would not even think of the works as beforehand. The gesture of negating has been made in order to fabricate one’s being.
Lee Kit：
I found the choices we make in the daily life to be intrinsically political. Choosing to make art or being forced to become an artist are also quite political. This kind of discussion is irony because anyone has a certain knowledge of western art history would know that fine art emerged only to oppose against something else, which was very political itself. On the other hand, we would also see many political artworks be made for sell. Instead of being political, it is actually a commercial activity.
Back to myself, I pay close attention to politics, but I try not to bring politics into my artworks. However, I have realized that it is getting harder and harder to really do so, since my life itself has already been changed by art. For example, I come from Hong Kong, but I have been pursuing a more relaxing lifestyle with slower rhythm. When my friends invited me out to karaoke in weekends, I always turned them down. Therefore, I have ended up becoming a very isolated Hong Kong person. It could then lead to political matters.
Lee Kit：
I did not get to travel when I was young, because my family wasn’t well-off. When I started traveling, it was mainly for work. Places such as inns and hotels feel quite fancy to me. Even while checking in, there might be a lot of cool-looking businesspeople standing nearby at the concierge. I later realized that the quality of the hotels did not matter to me that much. Except that sometimes there would be some cockroaches in the bad ones.
Or let me put it this way. The supplies that each hotel provides in the room are just pretty much the same. Some may offer more and others not as much. I later realize that when I go back home, including the one in Hong Kong or the one where I live now in Taipei, quantitatively speaking, the things that I do at home are about the same as what I would do while staying in a hotel room, or even less. What’s interesting about hotels is that there is always a sense of distance present, and it is resulted from the fact that we are unable to see what happened here in the room before. There were plenty of people doing all kinds of things that you could only imagine but not witness. On the other hand, I had tried to count and make a list about the things I would do in a hotel room, including peeing, pooping, having meetings, having sex and so on. There would be about fifteen to a maximum of twenty things. I then noticed that when I was at home, I would not even finish them at all, maybe only five of them. Therefore, is my home more like a hotel room, or is a hotel room more like a home to me? Later on, I have even acquired the habit of putting certain things at specific places in the hotel room to make it feel more like home. For example, there always is a drinking glass on the table at home, so I would put one on the table in the hotel room. However, once the glass is removed, the space would turn back into a hotel room again. In fact, the space is always a hotel room with or without the glass on the table, yet I have still learned something from the experience. First, we do not actually need too many items in our lives. Secondly, the sense of distance makes one feel intimate and alien at the same time. Perhaps, more familiar items could cause stranger feelings, and more unfamiliar ones could make us feel more related instead.
Or let me put it this way. The supplies that each hotel provides in the room are just pretty much the same. Some may offer more and others not as much. I later realize that when I go back home, including the one in Hong Kong or the one where I live now in Taipei, quantitatively speaking, the things that I do at home are about the same as what I would do while staying in a hotel room, or even less. What’s interesting about hotels is that there is always a sense of distance present, and it is resulted from the fact that we are unable to see what happened here in the room before. There were plenty of people doing all kinds of things that you could only imagine but not witness. On the other hand, I had tried to count and make a list about the things I would do in a hotel room, including peeing, pooping, having meetings, having sex and so on. There would be about fifteen to a maximum of twenty things. I then noticed that when I was at home, I would not even finish them at all, maybe only five of them. Therefore, is my home more like a hotel room, or is a hotel room more like a home to me? Later on, I have even acquired the habit of putting certain things at specific places in the hotel room to make it feel more like home. For example, there always is a drinking glass on the table at home, so I would put one on the table in the hotel room. However, once the glass is removed, the space would turn back into a hotel room again. In fact, the space is always a hotel room with or without the glass on the table, yet I have still learned something from the experience. First, we do not actually need too many items in our lives. Secondly, the sense of distance makes one feel intimate and alien at the same time. Perhaps, more familiar items could cause stranger feelings, and more unfamiliar ones could make us feel more related instead.
Nevertheless, without the sense of distance, this art works would never be realized. I could go on and on about how to present an exhibition. I find most exhibitions nowadays are fully prearranged. They are more like set-meals, with A, B, C, D simply hung on the wall and displayed. They seem quite boring to me. Many of my friends’ exhibitions do the exact same thing as well. Although the results are fully completed, they bore me badly. It might sound a bit abstract, but through the sense of distance, there would be certain ambiguous elements that would naturally bring our more.
Chen Hsiang-Wen：
I can see how it is related to your artworks. However, I would not directly connect the state of isolation and detachment that you speak of with the ones made by Su Yu-Hsien perhaps. Therefore I would like to ask Su the relationship between them in his point of view.
Su Yu-Hsien：
Staying in a hotel means that you’re visiting somewhere outside from where you normally live. Ideally, you could spend most of the free time from work wandering through the city. However, I would rather stay in the hotel even if I do not have anything scheduled. If I finish my works earlier and earn have a little bit free time for myself, I would still stay in the hotel. It has happened to me several times now. I am not sure whether I truly enjoy the hotel, or I just simply refuse to go outdoors. On the other hand, I have never really completed any works in a hotel. Instead, I might do some editing. I have never been artistically inspired or come up with any ideas there.
Chen Hsiang-Wen：
Under what circumstances would you usually get inspired then?
Su Yu-Hsien：
I think it is impossible to separate art from politics, because any choices we make on daily basis could be related to it. For example, in order to understand one specific language of painting encompasses more than just the language itself. When we research into impressionist paintings in Taiwan, like many others discussion, the direction could easily go wrong, putting them in a vacuum like what we do to abstract art, Japanese impressionism, American abstract art and so on. Art has its own system, related to how we envision the material. However, the study could often be limited, politics aside, the imagination is limited as well. Let me give you another example. There was a Taiwanese painting artist called Qin Song, who made abstract expressionist block prints. As an Chinese, he also liked to add some elements of ink painting into his works, creating strokes with prominent ink qualities. He once made a piece with a slanted red square on the canvas. It was just a simple square. Nevertheless, when the work was exhibited in a gallery, he was reported, accused of displaying a communist red flag and advocating communism in Taiwan. The accusation could be fetal at the time, which might lead to it could serious consequences. When Qin Song learned about it, he was so angry that he slashed the canvas with a painting as if he was destroying the “red flag”.
Being in the “Secondary” Position
Lee Kit：
For a city to be secondary does not equal as a “second” city. For example, the largest city in China is Beijing, and the second largest one is Shanghai. I am not referring to such category. I am implying the cities that do not seem completely hopeless, but encompass vibrant culture, and affluent living quality within, without being over-developed instead. I can think of several ones such as Minneapolis in the States, the entire country of Belgium and Taiwan. But Hong Kong is not one of them.
Hong Kong is quite peculiar. It is what is, just very “Hong Kong”. Perhaps, I am being too subjective. I am strongly against over development, regardless of cities, careers, or anything else. To me, over development is never a good thing, but people nowadays seem to generally aim for it. They call it development, but it is actually excessive. For example, the Taipei Dome is such of monument of over development.
Secondary cities are quite livable due to the good living conditions, modes of transportation the cities offer, and the weather is usually milder. When people from the art circle are discussing about where to live, I often hear the answer of Hong Kong. What for? It is expensive and uncomfortable in Hong Kong. They would say that there are more opportunities, so they also tend to think of New York, London, Berlin as excellent choices. Although there could be potential development in such primary cities, including Shanghai, Beijing and so on, they are simply unlivable. As an artist, why would anyone rather move into an unlivable city? If we all agree that artists rely on the keen senses to create artworks, living in such cities would be desensitizing instead, or even killing off all the and sensibility. Therefore, I believe that artists should live in a relatively livable city instead, opposite from the direction my friends would normally choose. If someone argues that there is no development in secondary city or secondary country, we should ask ourselves why we need them after all. Such development in the cities focuses more on banking or finance industries, which actually have nothing to do with us. It is a human nature issue to me. When one is making life choices based on non-humane ways or attitude, I do not believe as an artist, he or she could create anything embodies humanity because he or she has already voluntarily given up on matters regarding to life.
Su Yu-Hsien：
Instead of secondary, I would associate such issues with being “by the side”, which could refer to different meanings. Jian Tzu-Chieh has curated a series of exhibitions related to such state of being of voluntarily choosing to be weak. An intentionally playful and sort of geeky approach was used on the titles of the exhibitions such as “Looking Up! Looking Down!” and “[Ctrl]Z”. The later one was even translated into “Slashing the Wrong Person” through deliberate transliteration as if Z could be an unauthorized version of it. He once said that most of the people do not live in the center. It is a correct statement, but we also have to realize that they do not dwell in the margin, either. Margin is actually a relatively combating position to hold with such specificity. In other words, most people are just extremely ordinary with nothing special. They try to make ends meet and live on every day, but there is, in fact, something happening in the ordinary life. He described it as “being at the side”, as if something is just beside you and me. I found it quite charming and moving to me.
