In particular, local producers have created original logos and designs for their fruit cartons, oftentimes drawing upon foreign models. The following article by Roger Myer, who has long been a close observer of Taiwan's popular culture and folk art [see for example FCR, May 1987], provides an in-depth look at the advertising on Taiwan's fruit cartons, and explains how the government and local producers have worked together to improve the quality of both packaging and advertising.
Succulent bright blue plums. Oranges nearly the size of bowling balls. Cherries that look like red ping-pong balls. You can find these botanical oddities and much more on the fruit cartons stacked in Taiwan's wholesale and retail markets.
Artistically, these fanciful creations on the island's fruit containers pose little threat to their counterparts on classic pre-World War II American orange-crates. Few of the designs are particularly creative, and it seems doubtful that any of them will ever see service on posters or be accorded space in museum exhibitions. Nonetheless, they do provide an attractive and valuable insight to the history of commercial art in Taiwan and the ways in which it is influenced by economics and government policy.
Approximately a decade and a half ago, it became obvious to government planners that Taiwan's agriculture was entering a period of transition, owing to growing surpluses and changing consumer preferences. New strains and improved production techniques were pushing rice yields to record levels just as consumers were beginning to use a part of their new export-driven prosperity to consume greater quantities of other grains, meat, and specialty crops.
Faced with the prospect of a rice glut, as well as a continuing system of politically-popular rice subsidies, the Council of Agriculture (COA) decided to try encouraging farmers to grow more fruits and vegetables, which had higher value-added appeal and greater potential for export. At the same time, the COA also took steps to improve the packaging for such crops.
The heavy, difficult-to-manage wooden boxes and crude bamboo baskets that were popular at the time made rationalization and expansion of fruit and vegetable marketing difficult. Damage during transport was a chronic problem, and variations in the size of containers resulted in frequent delays and extra handling.
To overcome this packaging bottleneck, the COA promoted the adoption of standardized cardboard cartons. Beginning in 1972, the government began offering a subsidy amounting to 50 percent of the cost of such packaging to individuals and farm cooperatives, a sum that roughly offset the difference in cost between the new containers and the traditional bamboo baskets and wooden boxes.
According to Li Cheng-mao and Chen Shu-chen, marketing specialists at the COA, the government was primarily interested in cutting the rate of shipping damage, standardizing container size, and improving overall attractiveness. Package art was left almost entirely to the imagination of the users of the cartons. The only restriction was that blanks be provided for grade, weight, place of production, date, and supply code.
Not surprisingly, farmers and farmers' associations enthusiastically embraced this generous program. Today, almost 90 percent of all fruit and some 85 percent of the vegetables on the domestic and export markets are sold in cardboard cartons. In fact, according to Hsu Yun-fa, assistant manager of the Taipei Agricultural Products Marketing Corporation, such packaging has become nearly universal except for use with a few fragile items with high water content or those on which prices are so low that cardboard is not economical.
Both producers and distributors have had a hand in creating the art that adorns these cardboard containers. In some instances inspiration comes directly from the farmer. In others, it is supplied by the local farmers' associations, while still other designs are created by carton manufacturers. Even in the latter cases, however, the farmers are consulted since they ultimately bear the cost of the containers.
Most of the early cartons tend to be relatively simple. They usually feature a crudely-printed depiction of the relevant fruit or vegetable on the sides, together with the name of the product and the place of origin. The ends of the cartons are normally reserved for the required description of the contents and the name of the producer or wholesaler. Carton tops are usually devoid of printing, and there is seldom any hard-sell advertising or promotional text.
The result is a kind of modern utilitarian folk art. Although stylized, the designs are neither mere copies of traditional Chinese designs nor adaptations of Western ones. Instead, they are genuine products of the contemporary Taiwan rural imagination and the island's vibrant mass culture.
The simplest and earliest of these fruit-carton designs were generally printed in only one or two colors. The lemon carton design in Figure 1 from the farming community of Likang in central Taiwan is a typical example of the genre. It features very basic printing and art work. The bright green of the lemon branch laden with fruit and the red of the Chinese characters give the carton a primitive strength and honesty that make it a standout even today.
But realism and aesthetics frequently fall victim to this printing and design simplicity, as in the case of Figures 2 and 3. In these mango carton examples from the noted southern agricultural centers of Yuching and Fengkang, the delicate translucent hues of the fruit have been lost, leaving the potential buyer with specimens that resemble nothing so much as large, bloated chilies.
Much, of course, depends upon the fruit that is being depicted. The hami kua, an oriental variety of the honeydew melon portrayed in Figures 4 and 5, survives the early carton design and printing techniques in much better form. These melon representations from Sanhsi Ho and Shuilin Haipu at least have sufficient surface definition to provide the viewer with an identifiable representation of the product within.
Figures 6 and 7 likewise offer readily recognizable pictures of the carton contents despite printing deficiencies that can only be described as grave. In Figure 6 the leaves of the pineapple have been printed over the fruit, while the grape carton in Figure 7 leaves the viewer confused as to whether the leaves are covering the top of the grapes or vice versa.
In spite of such artistic distortion and careless execution, early examples of fruit-carton graphics are of great value if only because of the unparalleled introduction they afford, even though occasionally inaccurate, to some of Taiwan's more exotic fruits. Figure 8, for instance, is from a loquat carton. In nature, this fruit, known as pipa in Chinese, is an ovoid, yellow-orange beauty prized for its subtle sweet flavor. It would not be recognized, however, from this Kuanyin drawing of a white pipa. Here, the fruit has turned a startling lime green and assumed an apple-like appearance.
The dragon-eye, or lungyen, carton in Figure 9 also features a color change, in this case one that enhances the marketability of the fruit. In reality, the lungyen is a singularly unattractive reddish brown fruit whose popularity depends entirely on its unique smoky-sweet taste. The deep red employed on this carton from the Shuitao area is much more appealing than the genuine article and provides the visual enticement that is so important in the contemporary marketplace. A notable feature in this illustration is the traditional border motif along the bottom. Presumably, it has been employed because the fruit in question is one that is popular almost exclusively among Chinese.
The yangtao is commonly known as "star fruit" in the West because of its shape when cut horizontally.
Figure 10 offers yet another unintentionally abstract representation of one of Southeast Asia's lesser-known fruits, the carambola, or yangtao. In this instance, the ubiquitous dark red does an injustice to the fruit. The yangtao fruits, noted for their translucent, pale yellow-green coloration, have been transformed into something resembling a string of fully-ripened green peppers suspended from a tree branch. An interesting serrated border lends an artistic air to the composition, but anyone attempting to identify the carambola solely on the basis of the artist's rendering would encounter grievous difficulties.
The red persimmons, or hungshih, and the sugar apple, or shihchia, are likewise popular throughout much of Asia, though of relatively minor commercial importance. As is the case of many such fruits and vegetables, Taiwan's farmers and marketers have had little economic incentive to develop new, quality package illustrations over the years. Thus, the red persimmons pictured in Figure 11 are portrayed nearly twice life-size in a rather disagreeable catsup-red that belies the elegance of this exotic. The sugar apple in Figure 12 comes only slightly closer to reality. On this carton from Taimali in eastern Taiwan, the fruit, which is not really an apple at all, appears in its true size. But the coloration and detail leave much to be desired as far as accuracy is concerned.
Many of the early cartons for minor members of the citrus family also show evidence of such neglect. This failing can be excused somewhat since they constitute such a useful introduction to a few of the more obscure species of oranges and tangerines grown in Taiwan. The majority of these species, which are grown in small quantities and are available only during certain periods of the year, are often quite difficult to find in the marketplace.
Figures 13 and 14 are good examples of two of these lesser-known citrus fruits. The first features the chinkan, a small orange-colored fruit with an edible skin. In reality an extremely attractive fruit, it has unfortunately been depicted here as something akin to an airborne beet. The second portrays the pengkan, a smaller thick-skinned relative of the orange. On this carton from the Chingshan area, the fruit has been represented with a crude fidelity that is rare for a fruit of limited economic importance. In fact, the only real liberty the artist has taken is to picture the pengkan considerably larger than life-size.
Since the standard, more popular varieties of oranges and tangerines are important cash crops, they have understandably received far more artistic attention than their lesser cousins. In the case of oranges, the competitiveness of the market, the sheer volume of production, and significant export potential have combined to foster continued improvement in package art and design. It is in fact no exaggeration to say that the dynamics of orange production and marketing have been primarily responsible for the overall enhancement of Taiwan fruit-carton graphics in recent years.
Figure 15 from Peiliao in southern Taiwan is a particularly good example of this positive impact of economics on carton art. Printed in three colors, this relatively complex depiction features a dark green panel with what appears to be a cutout of an orange tree in the center. Just to the left of this panel are several realistically shaded oranges, while super-imposed on the panel and tree are two additional specimens: a simple outline drawing of an orange half and an abstract representation of a whole fruit.
This latter element of the illustration reveals one of the most important factors influencing the upgrading and current direction of orange carton art, and by extension, fruit and vegetable carton graphics as a whole. With its single leaf and uniform shape, this aesthetically pleasing effort is essentially what appears to be an adaptation of the Sunkist logo, which first became known on the island when imported American oranges and orange juice were introduced on the' market several years ago.
The influence of this logo and American carton art in general have not been limited to the carton above. The overall success of U.S. fruit and fruit products in Taiwan, and the sophisticated marketing that has accompanied their introduction, have had a profound impact on the entire industry.
In order to cope with this competition from abroad, Taiwan marketing entities have been forced to develop higher quality carton art and to create brand identities for their fruit. In Figure 16, for instance, the pengkan oranges look far more real than the fruit typically found on earlier, more basic cartons. A genuine attempt has been made to come to grips with the question of perspective, and the leaves in this example show at least an elementary concern for shading. At the same time, the simple logo in the upper right-hand corner of this illustration underlines a new determination to nurture brand loyalty.
The desire for increased attractiveness and realism is equally obvious in Figure 17. This example from the north-central fruit-growing area of Chungpu offers a tableau that includes a song bird of uncertain species perched on a branch laden with ripe oranges. A whole-and-half-fruit motif that has become something of a fixture on the island's orange cartons dominates the lower left-hand portion of the design, while the English phrase "Sweet Orange" reflects either an intention to export or an effort to capitalize on the cachet enjoyed by foreign languages in the Taiwan domestic market.
Figure 18, a specimen from the southern Taiwan farming center of Nanhsi, exhibits much the same approach to enhancing the visual appeal of fruit cartons. In addition to a repetition of the whole-and-half-fruit motif, this design features a rustic rural scene at the lower left that includes a farm cottage with what is presumably an orange tree growing beside it. Alas, thanks to the peculiar perspective employed by the artist, this citrine soars to a height of nearly ten stories, undoubtedly ranking it among the healthiest specimens of all time.
A little pictorial salesmanship has also been added at the lower right, where a jaunty Chinese thumbs-up sign of approval attests to the quality of the contents. This digital vote of confidence is not unique to the illustration in question. It is widely used in Taiwan print advertising and package art, including that found on fruit cartons. In Figure 19, for instance, a huge thumb at a 45 degree angle dominates the design in a manner that indicates either artistic carelessness or a clever attempt to obtain free transport for the carton and its contents.
Despite occasional lapses into such stridently promotional motifs, the comparatively complex rural-oriented approach has come to predominate, both on orange cartons and those for many other commercially important crops. The papaya carton from Taitung in Figure 20 is a particularly good example of a recent effort in this vein. The potential buyer is treated to a complete landscape, as well as to a reasonably accurate view of the fruit he can expect to find inside. Limpid stream, a farmer and his cart, and mountains in the background all contribute to a sense of pastoral tranquility and a feeling that the fruit in toe carton must be fresh from the farm.
For aesthetic reasons, local restaurants often serve the attractive and juicy lienwu as a special dessert.
Even though lacking in agrarian activity, the Pingtung lienwu carton in Figure 21 is equally appealing. Here, the artist has masterfully captured the ambience of that southern Taiwan area, with its relatively open spaces and tropical climate. Palm trees waving gently in the breeze, a broad bay, and low mountains on the horizon create an image of a lush paradise in which fruit of all kinds flourishes. Even the lienwu superimposed over this idyllic scene help contribute to this impression. Executed with exceptional skill, the pink translucent fruit looks good enough to eat right off of the carton.
Other cartons are even more geographically specific than these Taitung and Pingtung examples, with the lienwu carton from Meishan in Figure 22 offering what amounts to a case of small-town boosterism. In addition to three large red lienwu, the prospective purchaser is treated to an advertisement for the Meishan Public Park, complete with gate, trees, and pavilion.
A number of other cartons use culture as a way of establishing local identification. Figure 23, which is used for both apples and Chinese pears, is from the scenic Lishan area in central Taiwan. With its picture of a young aborigine mountain girl in traditional garb, this carton serves to call attention to the rugged beauty of this home of Taiwan's native people and the natural healthfulness of fruit grown there.
The final carton design in Figure 24 also uses culture as a way to promote sales, but in this case the emphasis is on occasion rather than place. The wentan, or pomelo, featured in the lower center, are round yellow fruits resembling the grapefruit. They are often given as gifts at the Moon Festival owing to their similarity in appearance to a full moon, an association that also accounts for the presence of a moon with stylized clouds above the fruit. The rabbits flanking the wentan likewise reflect the relationship between this fruit and the Moon Festival, since tradition maintains that the furry creature can be seen in the moon on this holiday.
These and the many other new carton motifs based on place and custom now on the market are but one indication of the long-term success of the government's efforts to enhance agricultural packaging. Just as in so many other areas of the Taiwan economy, initial public-sector assistance and direction furnished the impetus for private-sector development, and helped transform a once backward industry into a modern efficient one capable of meeting the needs of Taiwan's fruit growers now and in the years to come.
The government did not overtly seek improvement in graphic design in the course of implementing this program to upgrade fruit and vegetable packaging. Nonetheless, its policies indirectly fostered the growth of a carton-art tradition and a brand consciousness that have proved a blessing for all concerned.
As a result of the opening of the Taiwan market to fruit imports from the United States and other countries, retailers' stalls and shops are now filled with fruit from abroad, much of it displayed in the original cartons that feature colorful, attractive designs. In the island's modern, consumer-oriented society, such visual props are of critical importance. Without the carton art that has been nurtured on the island over the last fifteen years, domestic fruit growers and merchants would find it a good deal more difficult to maintain their competitiveness.
This competition shows every sign of becoming more intense in the future as the island's producers struggle for market share among themselves and from rising imports. In such circumstances, indigenous Taiwan carton art should prosper, and aficionados can count on seeing some truly outstanding designs that will match anything created overseas.