Me and Anne Burkus were sitting in her office, a nostalgic room full of books and paintings, old and new, Chinese and Japanese. The room somehow reminds me of my grandfather's office at home, and my dad's messy office - a space infiltrated with the staleness of time. We talked about class, movie and Chinese painting. As I was about to leave, Ann told me:"I landed in Taiwan in 1976, and that is my China."
Mao died in 1976 and the whole Taiwan was so nervous, not knowing what's going to happen. The moment Ann stepped on the land of Taiwan to study Chinese art, she was as nervous as the Taiwanese people who were waiting for her. Then soon there came Nixon who visited China and agreed to withdraw the military base in Taiwan. For Ann, she lost her chances to get free ice-cream and peanut butter. But for Taiwanese people, they felt deeply betrayed by U.S. They were outraged. Overnight, everything was at risk. Everything was at stake. Nobody was trustworthy. Nothing was secured - the individual lives, the tiny island in the East Pacific Ocean. Cab driver yelled at Anne because unfortunately she was American and more because, there was nothing could be done to the situation. I always found it interesting to see how our individual lives are intertwined with historical moments - that's usually when dramas, senses of humors, tragedies or comedies arise.
Then she showed me recent works by Zhang Hongtu, some guy from Princeton who tried to create the effects of Monet out of traditional Chinese painting. I'm not sure if I like such a post-modern twist. His painting is on the right.
