For most of us, seeing a suburban bamboo thicket would mean very little at all, but for Lee--who at the time was pursuing postgraduate studies in fiber sculpting at Fontobonne University in the United States--the discovery was akin to catching lightning in a bottle. "I wanted to use bamboo during my studies but couldn't find a local source," he said. Lee believed the fortuitous encounter must have been predestined, with his mission in life to enhance the fibrous green plant's beauty through his studies.
Born 1975 in Jhushan Township, Nantou County in central Taiwan, Lee grew up in a town famous for its bamboo forests. His family occupied a hilltop plot of land and its thriving plants were not only part of the beautiful surrounds, but also a source of basic nutrition. His father often gathered bamboo shoots to feed the family and Lee recollected, "Every day we'd have fresh bamboo shoots to eat, served in salad, dishes and soup." In the living room, oddly shaped roots and stems--collected by his father Lee Chun-hsiung--were displayed in the cupboards and corners of the house like a miniature museum.
Living with the green stems and brownish curving roots of the plant since he was a child, it was not until Lee participated in a seminar held by the National Taiwan Craft Research Institute during high school that he had the chance to learn about bamboo weaving skills from master artisans. "Only nine applicants were selected for the courses," Lee said. " And it was a great opportunity to meet professional bamboo masters like Huang Tu-shan, who is a National Folk Arts Master in Taiwan."
While it was possible for the fundamentals of bamboo weaving and selecting proper materials to be taught in the classroom, creativity and style could not. This is best illustrated in Lee's work, which at times can be very difficult to identify for those not familiar with his abstract creations. One puzzling piece looked like it could have been either a basket or a bucket. When enquiring what the purpose of the vessel was, the answer would probably come as a shock. "Unlike general bamboo ware, my creations usually have no practical purposes and are more like works of art," Lee said.
Neither an artist nor a craftsman, the self-described "craftist" has perfected a unique style that combines avant-garde ideas with artistic theory learned while he was studying Chinese calligraphy and seal carving at the National Taiwan University of Arts. "Any form of creation comes from your artistic foundation," Lee said, explaining the reason why he preferred to work on innovative presentations rather than being restricted to producing concrete and fixed shapes.
Lee incorporates his views on the plant into the works, aiming to color the authenticity of the bamboo with a personal interpretation. To illustrate, he picked up a cylinder with what appeared to be strips of bamboo woven into it, but upon closer inspection, the arm-sized object weighing around 13 kilograms proved to be made of metal. Why did Lee use copper to make bamboo ware and how did he manage to preserve the authenticity of the criss-crossed lines on such a hard surface?
According to Lee, given the piece's upright position, some may have guessed it was an umbrella holder, food container, or flower vase. But when it came time to confirm the answer, the response proved disappointing. "The open U-shape on top is not for holding anything but a symmetrical design," he said. "Simply speaking, it's just a work of art." Completely abandoning the idea of making something useful, Lee merely intended to express his deep-seated appreciation of bamboo weaving by using different materials.
"From creation to destruction and reproduction, this is the nature of my working process," Lee said as he held the cylinder aloft and began explaining the procedure of weaving a basket, pouring the plaster cast, burning the bamboo and adding the copper. "We don't need to make everything complete and perfect," he said, referring to the artistic process of destruction Lee believes offers more possibilities to showcase the beauty of bamboo.
By using copper, the weaving pattern was preserved for eternity and this idea was a defense against the bamboo's limited lifespan in Taiwan's humid climate, which eventually caused its decay. "The greatest challenge when creating bamboo ware was to defeat the decay process that occurs in the natural environment," Lee said. "What is worse," he added, "is that this lack of durability often degrades an artwork's value and lowers its price in the commercial market."
As a result, this lover of bamboo tried to fight against the limitations of the organic material and improve the utility of his childhood plaything. "Some people do not treasure bamboo ware because they are not worth a fortune like diamonds and gold," Lee said. "And this has a lot to do with the duration of time."
To counter the plant's disadvantages as an art material, Lee used bamboo and copper--both on the inside and outside--to complete four pieces of work. The series aimed to extend the life of bamboo in comparison to the longer lasting metal. After the application of bamboo strips onto the plaster cast, the plant was scorched, which was deemed as a ritual of rebirth. The flames ended the bamboo's physical existence, but saved it in another format from the artist's viewpoint. The green and hazel colors of the natural plant were replaced with a bronzed gloss from the copper. "The representation after the complete destruction is a means to creating a new life," Lee said. "The spirit of living bamboo is more than just an ordinary commodity."
With a burning ambition to transcend the traditional interpretation of bamboo in the art and conventional worlds, Lee explained he was seeking new applications for his work. "Many senior bamboo masters in Taiwan excel in the skills of bamboo weaving and sculpture and create high-quality products," he said. "But that's still considered craftwork, not an artifact."
The revolutionary bamboo artisan cited the main reason for this as an absence of creativity. Lee felt that most bamboo ware was made into specific tools for certain occasions and as a result, remained confined to its physical shape. Displaying the artistic influences of his father, who liked to select and collect uniquely-shaped parts of the bamboo plant, he preferred to show the beauty of bamboo in a free style and combine it with other materials, such as copper, steel, paper and cotton.
While bamboo can remain in existence for several decades, bronze ware has been passed down through the ages. Some of the earliest Chinese script engraved on bronze artifacts dates back to 220 B.C. This explains why Lee likes to employ metalwork in his creations, such as the wire from a telephone cord.
By knitting the wire to match the stitches of a bamboo weaving, Lee masterfully created a lady's skirt. The black bamboo dress was decorated with a bright red boa made of copper wire atop. But for Lee, the weaving of bamboo clothing correlates to daily life. "The process of weaving best represents my train of thought and encapsulates all my thoughts about bamboo," he said.
Remaining faithful to the belief that ideas and concepts were the crux of each creation, Lee expanded these to include multimedia applications, such as oil painting and installation art. Yet, the format of presentation was second to the meaning of the plant in his life. "Bamboo weaving is concrete, but weaving a person's thoughts defies boundaries," he said, stressing his commitment to present the meaning of bamboo in a free and open way.
Write to Sandra Shih at sandrashih@mail.gio.gov.tw