2025/08/02

Taiwan Today

Taiwan Review

His works spans China's photographic history: photo-artist Long Chin-san

June 01, 1982
1937 TO ANCHOR AT EVENTIDE was taken from a boat on the Yangtze River near Wanhsien in Szechwan province.
Over the years, while visiting Tai­pei's main North Gate Post Office, I had, from time to time, noticed a frail-looking Chinese gentleman who collected stacks of letters and packages. I never knew who he was but always admired his brisk step as he strode past, his Changpao, or blue robe, flowing beneath the large satchel into which he stuffed his mail.

Only recently did I learn that this colorful postie was none other than the famed Long Chin-san, China's pioneer photographer. And he was 90-years-old when I finally spoke to him as we waited at the same counter to pick up registered letters.

He was disarmingly friendly as he burnished his Chinese chop over half- a-dozen envelopes awaiting his seal. I asked if I might interview him, to which he readily agreed but added, "I'm leav­ing for the United States tomorrow but I'll back in about ten days. I'd be happy to see you after that."

Composite photo techniques combine the bird with appropriate branches.

I visited Long in his second floor apartment not far from National Taiwan University where he lives with a daugh­ter, a son and a daughter-in-law. Howev­er, at the time of my sojourn, Long was all alone, still clad in his omnipresent blue winter-gown. After he had prepared coffee, the affable Long casually asked if I read French - whereupon he produced a number of French newspaper clippings about his most recent European showing in Aries, France, last summer.

Long explained his French was virtu­ally non-existent and his English barely passable but, hearing I spoke fluent Chi­nese, we decided to converse in Mandarin. Long said that his lifelong love affair with the camera started after he viewed some photographs which his father had brought to their home near Shanghai at the turn of the century. Even today, the oldest photograph in Long's valuable collection is a daguerreotype which shows his mother and father on their wedding day in 1869.

The nonagenarian bought his first camera, a Kodak Grafex, when he was 17 and since then has tried most of the world's finest cameras. His current favorites are Rolleiflex, Hasselblad and Pentax.

In 1928, Long was hired by the Shanghai newspaper The Eastern Times as a photo-journalist. He also doubled as art man for the paper's advertising. That same year, Long and several of his friends founded the Photographic Society of China and held their first exhibition in The Eastern Times building. It was the first in China and proved popular. Soon universities were organizing their own photo clubs.

 

In this extraordinary study, the boatman seems literally to be "walking on water".

In 1931, one of Long's photos was accepted for a Japanese exhibition. It represented the first time that any photograph had been accepted from a Chinese. In the following year, six of Long's prints were accepted for showing in Paris, London and Milan. That was the beginning: Since that lime, Long has lost count of the number of exhibitions in which his photos have been shown not to mention how many different photos he has sent abroad for exhibitions or competitions. But he estimated they would in­volve more than 500, plus about 100 he had staged himself. And the end of his exhibitions is not in sight for he handed me a letter from Calcutta which invited him to present a paper and to participate in an exhibition in the Indian city. He was also seriously considering attending, and showing his work once again in France, Germany and in the USA this year.

Without doubt the old master enjoys good health. The telephone rang twice during our interview and he literally ran across the room to lift the receiver.

His art of the composite photograph is not easy. Long explained some of his creations took weeks to finalize. He showed me one photograph of several deer lolling around an old tree.

"To get the larger one in front of the tree, the smaller one behind and the others in order look a great deal of pa­tience and involved al least 50 nega­tives," he said.

Long fled Shanghai in 1949, when the Communists overran the city, by securing a passage on a U.S. oil tanker bound for Hong Kong. The ship carried no passengers, but a letter Long had from the U.S. Information Service inviting him to take part in a photo show in Taiwan, convinced he captain to give him passage. Long was unable to pay until he arrived in Hong Kong where old friends helped him out with fares and lodging before his departure for Taiwan. Long had been forced to leave behind most of his equipment and film but he was able to salvage about four hundred negatives which, over the years, have served as the nucleus of his landscape art. He unrolled a 10-inch-wide scroll­ photo which was, perhaps, a yard long. On the left were mountains and on the right was a handsome pavilion. Long ex­plained this came from his old collection.

The artist, receiving a citation from former President Yen. (File photo)

The central section of the scroll-scenery showed a pagoda and more hills. It depicted the Lion's Head Mountain Buddhist temple area in northern Taiwan. It looked like a panoramic­ photograph and the un-initiated could not tell where one scene began and where another section ended. Long said, with some pride, that this particular scroll had been reproduced and now circled the four walls of a Chinese restaurant in the United States.

It is almost superfluous to say that Long's work is inspired by the form and content of classical Chinese paintings, and a visitor to the gallery displaying photo-composites 'often feels he is look­ing at a Chinese painting instead of a mundane photo. Long explained his photos followed the usually-listed six precepts of Chinese painting: concept, natural appearance, composition, the following of classical painting-models, building structure through brush work and appropriate coloring.

Long said experienced photogra­phers would agree that natural arrange­ments did not always make good photo compositions. "It is a matter of choosing what will best fit into the limited space of a photograph," he said. "In making a composite photo, I select the best of several vistas and forge them together by artificial means to create the 'perfect' photo.

Each photograph is further proof of the kinship between the lens and brush.

"I am fully aware of the limitations to which a photographer is subjected. Not only is he dependent on what his lens can see and photograph, his creativity is curtailed by the shortcomings of his equipment. Unlike a brush-artist, a pho­tographer cannot normally include, or exclude, what he doesn't want in a scene when he takes his photo. A perfectly beautiful picture, which may be spoiled by an unnecessary tree or rock, can only be photographed as it is or not at all.

"With composite photographs, the cameraman can do what the Chinese painters have been doing for centuries. They can choose objects, or parts of scenes, from several of the many photos they have taken, to create a new composition. Neither time nor space need be an obstacle. All this can be done without losing any of the effects, or qualities, that are so necessary to a photograph."

 

 

His work transcends the border between photography and painting.

Waxingly eloquently about his art form, Long continued: "However, even more important is the fact that a lens can only focus on a specific point. Anything in front of, or beyond, that point is out of focus and will thus appear unclear. Our human eyes, on the other hand, see things quite differently. Objects two, or twenty two yards away will appear equally clear for a person with normal eyesight. By using the composite technique to create a photo, a photographer can create pictures according to the visual impres­sions of men, just as an artist paints the scene before his eyes.

"This is most important as far as my photos are concerned, for all of my composite photos are landscapes, after the style of the traditional Chinese paint­ers. Like many an ancient scroll, my composites are bird's-eye-views of any particular scene taken when the eye and the horizon form a 45 degree angle.

"I feel the composition also closely resembles the format of a Chinese land­scape painting and the photos also have foreground, mid-ground and background. My foregrounds and backgrounds are relatively sharp. This cannot be achieved in an ordinary photograph.

"But it certainly is possible in a composite picture."

Wall cabinets in Long's apartment are chock full of medals, plaques, ribbons and other awards won by his painstaking­ly beautiful photos in countries through­out the world.

Long added: "Exposures should vary according to the density of the dif­ferent portions of the photos. If denser ones are used with normal ones, expo­sure times differ. After deciding the tonal depth necessary for each segment of the composite, one must always ex­periment with each of the negatives to determine the exposure time needed to achieve the desired effect."

Even after more than half-a-century of experience in making composites, Long still feels it is difficult to make a perfect composite picture. If a photogra­pher does happen to create a perfect composite, Long advises he make a nega­tive copy to ensure he does not have to repeat the laborious process each time he needs a print of the composite photo.

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