“The primary thing that I want people to do is look at them and go ‘how pretty.’ It’s like you heard a song and went ‘that sounds nice,’ and then you start thinking about the lyrics afterwards. So the first thing I want is that they are attractive to the eyes.”
This was how Mark Caltonhill described his unique and arresting rebus-like poems, which update the traditional Chinese spring couplet, or chunlian (春聯), with the help of a digital camera.
“Basically they are two stanzas, seven lines in each,” he said. “Seven ideas, seven concepts, seven lines of poetry in each of the two stanzas with lots of correspondence.”
More than a year in the making, the 10 couplets — collectively called The Malarkey Phenomenon — are currently on display and sale at Citizen Cain, a restaurant on Dongfeng Street (東豐街), which will host a reception for the show this Sunday beginning at 1pm. Interspersed among the couplets will be Malarkey’s Amusement Park, a series of playful poems on photographs.
The exhibition also marks the soft launch of Caltonhill’s self-published book of writing, also called Malarkey’s Amusement Park, as well as a call for poetry and verse for a forthcoming compilation of writing by expats living in Taiwan that Caltonhill plans to publish in the summer of next year (submissions can be forwarded to jiyue.publications@gmail.com).
Caltonhill, who has lived in Taiwan on and off since 1992, working as a performer, translator and writer (his book Private Prayers and Public Parades was reviewed on Page 18 of the Nov. 9, 2003 edition of the Taipei Times), employed his considerable knowledge of Taiwanese culture, Chinese characters (he has a master’s degree in Chinese from the University of Edinburgh) and his travels throughout the country to create the couplets, which were printed on rice paper and professionally framed as silk scrolls.
HuHu (湖滬), based on a trip Caltonhill took to Penghu (澎湖), is fairly representative of the hanging scrolls in how the traditional couplet form is altered (digital images replace stylized characters) to investigate or meditate on a variety of themes.
In the couplet, Caltonhill juxtaposes images of Chinese characters either standing alone or in profusion — in one line characters have been spray-painted on a plastic container, in another they are on a menu written on a wall — with images of Penghu.
The second character in the Chinese word for Penghu, hu (湖), forms the first line on the right-hand scroll. The top line of the left-hand scroll is the Chinese character hu (滬), which means weir.
“It is a poem working on two levels,” Caltonhill said. “Going to Penghu and seeing all these things and the human relationship with his environment.”
The visual language that gives the couplets meaning is also what makes them difficult to unravel.
“To decipher the poems you need to know where [pictures of] the characters were taken,” he said.
The references are indeed idiosyncratic, and unless you’ve been to the restaurant or prison wall the images capture, it’s difficult to see any immediate deeper meaning — though Caltonhill pointed out that this was his intention. Written proficiency in Chinese and a deep knowledge of Taiwan’s history are helpful when deciphering the scrolls, so if your Chinese isn’t up to snuff be sure to bring along a friend who can point out the homophones.
Although the “lyrics” are written in Chinese, the visual music reveals a playful understanding of a traditional poetic form that rewards repeated viewing.
Those wishing to submit poetry, lyrics or verse to Caltonhill’s publishing company JiYue Publications (霽月出版社), which he established as a result of his “frustrations trying to get books published in Taiwan and the similar experiences of other writers,” should send submissions to jiyue.publications@gmail.com.
EXHIBITION NOTES:
WHAT: A Double Dose of Malarkey
WHERE: Citizen Cain, 67, Dongfeng St, Taipei City (台北市東豐街67號). Tel: (02) 2708-4557
WHEN: Opening reception on Sunday at 1pm ; exhibit runs through Feb. 28, 2009. Citizen Cain is open daily from 6pm to midnight
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