The artist works silently and rapidly on three sheets of paper taped onto easels in front of him. The water ink paintings taking shape under his brushes are different yet clearly share the same overarching theme, and the artist is treating them as a single entity. He is intensely absorbed, as though his very essence were flowing onto the paper. Hours pass, and the paintings begin assuming their final form: layers of primal blackness, overlapping, merging, and flowing into each other. But the artist is not finished.
Quickly he prepares acrylic paints—blues, yellows, whites, and greens—which glow softly on his pallet. Then with deft, confident strokes he applies the colors. Immediately the somewhat indistinct, black masses of ink take on new clarity. A moment passes, then traditional Chinese motifs of mountains, cliffs, rocks, and valleys emerge with graceful power, achieved and accentuated by the carefully integrated counterpoints of acrylic color. Contemporary paints illumine classical ink.
Huang Chao-hu is known for skillful use of color and shades of black, and his modern interpretation of themes found in classical ink painting. His innovative paintings convey strength, demonstrating both the artist's control over his medium and a creative ability to adapt established themes from his cultural heritage in light of modern art forms. This is a conscious direction in his work, for Huang is trying to find a new identity and direction for modern Chinese painting.
At first the pervasive blackness of Huang's paintings is overwhelming. But as the eye adjusts to the carefully modulated light within each painting, the initial intensity of the blackness diffuses into subtle shapes defined by a range of sensitively shaded hues. Concentration on Huang's paintings builds as the powerful and enigmatic effect of each work assimilates the viewer's consciousness much as the paper has absorbed the rich Chinese ink. The resulting mood so consumes the viewer that even after turning away from a painting, he nonetheless feels its enduring presence, like the sensation of being followed while walking home alone late at night—though in this case in a pleasurable sense.
Traditional painters classified black into five major hues, the fifth being almost pure white. Chinese artists have always held that black ink possesses extraordinary energy and vitality; the aesthetic challenge for the artist is to release its inherent powers "As most painters would agree," Huang says, "the best classical paintings were done during the Tang and Sung Dynasties. These paintings had real spirit; they were original and vital. What I am trying to do is bring this spiritual essence into the 20th century."
Huang believes black can express dynamic strength, consistency of individual ethics, and independence of free will. He says: "In the 1980's I began serious study of the historical relations between Chinese thought and painting. Through this I expanded my understanding, discovering additional characteristics of water inks. I realized paintings were able to express 'ideas' and not just 'forms,' and that through the pursuit of vivid styles I could emphasize subjective thoughts."
Huang was born in 1939 and grew up in Taichung, central Taiwan. The people of the area led simple, rural lives with few luxuries. "We had none of the aspirations of modern youth," Huang says. "We were content with the mountains, the forest, and the fields around us." By age 13 he had decided to become an artist and began by copying traditional Chinese watercolors. After finishing his education, he worked as an elementary-school teacher, by then experimenting regularly with different materials and painting techniques. His desire for individual expression was unfulfilled by imitating past artists, but it was not easy to change direction toward modernism. He faced considerable opposition from more traditional Chinese artists.
"In the early 1960s, I graduated from college and immediately stepped into the field of avant-garde arts. I produced many paintings and also wrote articles to advocate modern artistic styles. Moreover, I wrote so fiercely against what I called conservative artists that journalists called me 'the naughty boy who gives conservatives a bad headache.'"
Nowadays, Huang rarely does one painting at a time. When he feels inspired, he likes to work on three or four, trying fully to capture his mood. He says: "I believe in eliminating the shackles of 'form,' emphasizing instead vivid style and tasteful mood. I abandon traditional ways of handling brushes and inks by adopting freer methods. These include splashing, sprinkling, washing, poring, printing, copying, dyeing, pressing, rubbing and wiping. I want to express the powers of water inks in a modern sense and show their potential for abstraction and supra-realism."
He succeeds. Huang's understanding and use of space is especially extraordinary. Like optical illusions, the shapes in his paintings have the ability to turn in on themselves. They redirect and refocus the consciousness inwardly, and one cannot be sure if the macrocosm or the microcosm is being represented, for both are obviously present. Due to this spatial quality, Huang's works always present possibilities for new perspectives that the viewer may discover and enjoy.
Huang has given considerable thought to the place of his work in the context of 20th century modern art. "I believe that viewers of my water inks need to be aware of the traditional Chinese elements within my paintings. But to understand what I am doing, they must see that tradition through a modern abstract medium." Huang's synthesis of ancient themes and modern techniques creates a remarkably powerful visual experience of balance and harmony, with combinations of ink and color conveying an aesthetic timelessness.
Huang concludes an analysis of his artistic pursuits with a comment that brings classical Chinese philosophy to mind: "Originally, when I turned back to water inks from other modern art media, it was a return of thoughts as well as a personal challenge and breakthrough. I still embrace the concepts of modern art, but now in the free land of water inks I pursue artistic expression of 'ideas' while ignoring their 'forms.' Moreover, by following 'unbounded rules' to express the beauty of the 'non-formed form,' I intend to establish a unique style of my own."
The aesthetic challenge of constructing the form of the formless through artistic expression of the "uncarved block," which has been an integral part of Chinese thought since Lao Tzu in the Sixth century B.C., has been accepted with new permutations in the modern yet traditional work of Huang Chao-hu.