As an elementary student, Zheng Ying-xie already knew what he wanted to do when he grew up. An early starter one might say, but while most of his pals were still sound asleep, at three in the morning Zheng, the firstborn of eight children, had to get up and go to work with his father. They put the plows they sold for a living on their shoulders and walked barefoot to surrounding farms in search of a sale. He then rushed to school, usually without breakfast.
Zheng soon realized that in order to avoid the life of penury his family led, he needed to learn a skill that made money. The young boy did not have to look far. It so happened there was a prosperous gold shop in his neighborhood, the proprietor of which took him on as his apprentice right after he finished primary school.
Working at the shop in Lugang, Changhua County from dawn until late at night day in, day out for three years, he learned the basic techniques of metalwork and decided to become a goldsmith. His father's sudden death brought about the next change in his life. "My father's death made me give serious thought to being a goldsmith... I needed to advance my skills in order to outperform others and escape poverty," Zheng says.
Striking Out on His Own
Late one night, the 18-year old packed a single suitcase and headed for the capital city, Taipei, without a word of goodbye to his mother. Thanks to a relative's introduction, Zheng became an apprentice to an immigrant master craftsman from Fuzhou in China.
While he had learnt how to hammer patterns into metal in Lugang, the Fuzhou master taught him how to chisel figures of animals and plants out of karat gold, which is harder than pure gold and gives designs a livelier and smoother finish. After completing his apprenticeship in Taipei, Zheng returned to his hometown. He worked 16 hours a day, and word about his fine craftsmanship and reliability started to spread. He eventually set up his own shop in 1976 at the age of 27. "To have one's own shop is the dream of most goldsmiths," he says. "On opening day, I thought there would be no greater satisfaction in my whole life--I later came to realize one's desire is without bounds."
Running his own business enabled Zheng to lift his family out of poverty and gave him more time to research and develop his technique. When in the early 1980s collecting teapots became a fad and people were buying ceramic pots from China for as much as NT$300,000 (US$9,091), Zheng was puzzled. While chatting with a friend one day, he could not help saying, "Teapots shouldn't be so expensive, even if they're made of gold." The friend responded: "Then, why don't you make one and let us have a look?"
Gold Village, 2005, pure gold and pure silver, 50 x 69 x 20 cm (Courtesy of the National Center for Traditional Arts)
Zheng studied the structure of teapots closely and, given that they must have smooth interior surfaces, decided on carving as the most suitable method to use. The traditional procedure of making a teapot was to hammer the gold into thin sheets, then make the body, handle, lid and spout separately and finally solder them together. Breaking with this convention, Zheng melted the metal and poured it into a mold. He then finished the inside of the teapot with a chisel and carved a pattern on the outside.
A Teapot of Gold
In 1983, he sold gold teapots at NT$200,000 (US$6,060) a piece. People were surprised to find that gold, apart from being stashed away in bricks and bars or made into jewelry, could be transformed into practical art works as well.
The popularity of his gold teapots not only brought Zheng fame and fortune, but also made him aware of the immense possibilities of gold carving. He started refining his craftsmanship and diversifying his wares in the hope of making sophisticated pieces that illustrated Taiwan's history, culture and customs.
As his work became more complex, Zheng needed to use a magnifying glass and spend long periods of time to complete some of his works. "Gold sculpture requires good eyesight, fine craftsmanship, persistence and physical strength, as well as financial capacity," he says. "You only get a good grasp on the characteristics of gold through trial and error. The process is pretty lonely and often frustrating."
His effort has, nonetheless, been rewarded. He was awarded a Traditional Craft Award in 1999 by the National Center for Traditional Arts (NCTA). His work features the celebration of the Goddess Matsu's birthday, Buddhist deities and, to commemorate the arrival of the new millennium, a treasure box with 81 dragons on it, valued at NT$10 million (US$303,030).
In recent years, Zheng has been studying Buddhism and become a vegetarian. He likes to play Buddhist music at work, saying that it gives him peace of mind as well as inspiration; indeed, some of his works reflect Buddhist scriptures and philosophy.
The Gilded Gallery
The NCTA staged a large-scale exhibition of the work of 30 prominent Taiwanese craftsmen between January and March this year in which Zheng was included. Wu Hua-tsung, a section chief at NCTA, says that the show was designed to highlight how tradition and innovation intertwine, something which Zheng accomplishes both with his technique and subject matter.
Lugang in Three Hundred Years, 2001, pure gold and pure silver, 37 x 53 x 26 cm (Courtesy of Zheng Ying-xie)
"Zheng's art demonstrates the ductility of gold and gives a feel of refinement and nobility," Wu remarks. "Also, he works from his own experience, so we can all identify with it." Zheng's work depicts Taiwan's festivals, folklores and religion. Three major local events--Lantern Festival, Dragon Boat Festival and Moon Festival--as well as temple fairs and rural life are full of interesting, contemporary scenes that make them relevant.
Chuang Po-ho, vice chairman of the Chinese Folk Arts Foundation, says that in changing times, traditional and folk arts are facing difficulties, if not in danger of extinction. Nevertheless, Zheng is a good example of a craftsman staying afloat. He attributes Zheng's success to his evolution and innovation of traditional techniques and themes. "Goldsmithery is an age-old industry that is tied up with Taiwan's folk customs in that gold ornaments are used for various occasions like birthdays, weddings and funerals," he says. "Zheng is worthy of praise because he has widened the use and value of gold with his art."
Similarly, Lu Chun-hsiung, chief executive officer of the Taipei County Culture Foundation, says gold has long been used by Taiwanese, but ornaments with dragon and phoenix motifs, however, are fading away along with experienced craftsmen.
"Zheng is the only goldsmith left who knows solid conventional techniques but continually seeks improvement," Lu says. "Most senior craftsmen have no aspiration to upgrade their craft." Lu thinks it is a pity, however, that modern life stresses quick and mass production.
Chen Kuo-jen, assistant professor at the Department of Applied Arts of Fu Jen University, believes that what is peculiar about Zheng's work is its cultural implications. "At present, most artists tend to create works in an individualistic style, expressing their own emotions and ideals. There is nothing wrong with it... It's just that something deeper is missing," she says. "Zheng's artwork involves history, culture and customs. It is exceptional because it demonstrates his concern for all of society."
Now, at 61 and with fame and wealth to his name, Zheng could easily retire, but chooses instead to keep working. "Pushing the limits of goldsmithery has been my ambition and interest," he says. "If you ask me which one I like most, I'd have to say 'The one that I'm yet to create.'"
Write to Kelly Her at kelly@mail.gio.gov.tw