Ever since Chang Shuo-yin (張碩尹), 23, was a student at the Department of Advertising at National Chengchi University (政治大學), he was taken with spraying graffiti on the walls of his campus. He also led a group called the Mountain Guerillas (上山打游擊), who converted an empty building -- refered to as "The Ruin" by local graffiti artists and connoisseurs -- into a repository of graffiti art.
Under the tag Bbrother, taken from George Orwell's novel Big Brother, Chang continues to work as a graffiti artist with a clear political bent. His vivid mural of a farmer pointing a gun to his own head, with the slogan "cheap rice hurts farmers" (穀賤傷農), is a protest against Taiwan's WTO membership. The image of a baby with its penis tied in a knot is a provocative critique of Taiwan's laws on assemblies, processions and demonstrations (集會遊行示威法). His graffiti can be seen in various parts of Taipei, including the alleys behind Eslite Book Stores (誠品台大店) near National Taiwan University (NTU), and The Ruin, which he and others wrested from police as a de facto base for their graffiti art. In spite of disagreements with local authorities regarding whether the artists could spray in The Ruin, the police have largely let them convert the abandoned building into their unofficial studio.
Lee Ming-tsung (李明璁), assistant professor in sociology at NTU, suggests that graffiti in Taiwan serves as a safety valve venting social anger, preventing young artists' pent up aggression from being expressed through violence.
PHOTO: GINGER YANG, TAIPEI TIMES
Bbrother's take on this form of street art is that it simply satisfies "the primitive desire to paint on something solid, just like ancient people painted their caves."
Few graffiti artists take their work as seriously as Bbrother, but such committed urban artists, even in limited numbers, are spearheading a genre all their own, fusing pop-art graphics with elements of traditional Chinese painting. Interestingly, while some condemn graffiti art as vandalism, others view it as a catalyst for social reform. "Graffiti cannot provide details of an issue, but it can draw attention, [provoking dialogue]," Lee said.
Big businesses have tried to appropriate the cachet of graffiti for their marketing strategies and products. Even Bbrother does occasional commercial work, but is discreet about it, perhaps aware that the anti-capitalist messages often contained in graffiti could be easily corrupted by such commercialization. Bbrother insists that he wants to keep graffiti distinct from other art genres.
Taipei has long been portrayed as a multicultural city in which the freedom of expression thrives. "I have rarely met a policeman or angry resident while painting on a wall. The police won't interrupt you if you act like a young man who loves art," Chang says. Such a statement suggests that the city indeed possesses a high threshold for expression, and that Taipei residents are very tolerant of graffiti as an artform and its proponents.
That US assistance was a model for Taiwan’s spectacular development success was early recognized by policymakers and analysts. In a report to the US Congress for the fiscal year 1962, former President John F. Kennedy noted Taiwan’s “rapid economic growth,” was “producing a substantial net gain in living.” Kennedy had a stake in Taiwan’s achievements and the US’ official development assistance (ODA) in general: In September 1961, his entreaty to make the 1960s a “decade of development,” and an accompanying proposal for dedicated legislation to this end, had been formalized by congressional passage of the Foreign Assistance Act. Two
President William Lai’s (賴清德) March 13 national security speech marked a turning point. He signaled that the government was finally getting serious about a whole-of-society approach to defending the nation. The presidential office summarized his speech succinctly: “President Lai introduced 17 major strategies to respond to five major national security and united front threats Taiwan now faces: China’s threat to national sovereignty, its threats from infiltration and espionage activities targeting Taiwan’s military, its threats aimed at obscuring the national identity of the people of Taiwan, its threats from united front infiltration into Taiwanese society through cross-strait exchanges, and its threats from
Despite the intense sunshine, we were hardly breaking a sweat as we cruised along the flat, dedicated bike lane, well protected from the heat by a canopy of trees. The electric assist on the bikes likely made a difference, too. Far removed from the bustle and noise of the Taichung traffic, we admired the serene rural scenery, making our way over rivers, alongside rice paddies and through pear orchards. Our route for the day covered two bike paths that connect in Fengyuan District (豐原) and are best done together. The Hou-Feng Bike Path (后豐鐵馬道) runs southward from Houli District (后里) while the
March 31 to April 6 On May 13, 1950, National Taiwan University Hospital otolaryngologist Su You-peng (蘇友鵬) was summoned to the director’s office. He thought someone had complained about him practicing the violin at night, but when he entered the room, he knew something was terribly wrong. He saw several burly men who appeared to be government secret agents, and three other resident doctors: internist Hsu Chiang (許強), dermatologist Hu Pao-chen (胡寶珍) and ophthalmologist Hu Hsin-lin (胡鑫麟). They were handcuffed, herded onto two jeeps and taken to the Secrecy Bureau (保密局) for questioning. Su was still in his doctor’s robes at