Tag: Leah List - Page 2

Posts

Meet our partners: Bai Win Antiques

January 16, 2016/in Interviews, Red Room Partners /by Roma Mehta

I am sitting at a small table in Bai Win Antiques situated next to a stately bed overflowing with wrapped Christmas wreaths. Faye Angevine, recovering from surgery, sits across from me in a wheelchair; throughout the interview she rolls back and forth ceaselessly, still not accustomed to holding still. At one point she pauses and looks back at a couple inspecting a recreation of a Taiwanese kitchen. “Do you need help?” She asks them. “I’m being interviewed believe it or not. It doesn’t look like it, I’m eating a sandwich, but I am.” She is a busy woman. In addition to running Bai Win Antiques, she dedicates a great deal of time to issues she cares about.

Bai Win primarily sells antiques and recreations, but Ms. Angevine also owns a series of small connected rooms packed with clothes, jewelry and art. “I’m not into clothes,” she confessed to me. “So I had to open the showroom for a purpose.” Consequently, all or most of the money made from sales in the showroom go to a cause. Scattered around the room are demonstrations of her many passions: here information on an animal sanctuary, there jewelry made by women survivors of abuse. On one black table sits a plaque with information on the Red Room.

If you’ve been to the Red Room in recent months, you’ve probably found yourself lounging on the pillow covered dynasty bed, or plucked a book from its shelves. You’ve probably also wandered to the back of the room from time to time, to scoop up a delicious snack from the wooden table with splayed legs. What you may not have realized is both pieces come from Bai Win Antiques, one of the oldest antique stores in Taiwan. Naturally, all the pieces featured in the Red Room from Bai Win are either Taiwanese antiques or recreations and, according to Faye, are a unique and display of Taiwanese culture and skill.

So how does a purveyor of Taiwanese and Chinese antiques come to be involved with a community like the Red Room? “Roma Mehta!” she tells me when I ask her, throwing her hand up in the air with flourish. Roma, she said, had always been there to support her and her passions, and she felt she needed to support Roma’s. When she heard Roma speak about Red Room, she showed up. There she discovered a community which allows “artists to come and perform and create” and quickly concluded it was an “important”, and even necessary, part of society. She’s continued to attend Red Room events over the last half decade.

“Red Room kind of reminds me of my hippie days in the 60s– 60s and 70s,” she laughs before launching to an account of meeting other hitchhikers, playing music, and talking while traveling through Europe. “Wild times, I’m telling ya,” she pauses and looks away, a nostalgic grin on her face. “The Red Room actually reminds me of that era, that period of my life.” I ask her if she has a favorite memory of a Red Room event and she quickly launches into the story of an adventurer she’d once brought to a Red Room event: “He was in World War II [and], I mean, he invaded Mussolini’s mother’s village. [Now] he had tales to tell.”

Half a decade has afforded her a lot of time to explore the different facets of Red Room and she’s developed a taste for certain Red Room events, particularly StageTime & Juice, for the community’s creativity and enthusiasm; and Aside@TheRedRoom for the polish curated events offer. Faye has been present at many Red Room events, but she’s never been a watcher. So, when Red Room moved to a new space, she gladly provided furniture for Red Room to use and showcase.

Like many others Red Room, for her, is so much more than a space. The Red Room community accepts other communities, Faye declares, and that’s why she plans on joining the Red Room in organizing future events dedicated to animals (another one of her passions). Ultimately, for Faye, most things worth pursuing contribute to the community around them and Red Room does exactly that.

As for the pieces at the Red Room, all of the antiques currently at the Red Room are available for purchase, and she’s assured me that all of them can easily be replaced lest we miss them. If you’d like to hear the story behind the wonderful antiques showcased at the Red Room, or about Faye’s work as a dog rescuer, please visit Bai Win Antiques in Taipei’s Shilin District!

Conversations with Artists: Alex Houghton

January 14, 2016/0 Comments/in Interviews, Visual Dialogues /by Roma Mehta

You said you were a third culture kid, growing up in Taiwan, Hong Kong and Australia. Why did you grow up in so many different countries? How would you say that shaped you?

My father is an Engineer and a specialist in trains. Hong Kong MTR to Taiwan High Speed Rail were some of his projects, so we travelled with the job. It became the normal, new school, new friends, new languages every few years. Everywhere we went there was a time for exploring and learning the culture, and then there was a time to make it home. It really opened my eyes to cultural perspectives, traditions and every day life. I feel like the Koi becoming the Dragon, it was a journey that each place left an influence on me.

So your website says you developed a love of photography when you needed resources to design with. Would you say it evolved from there?

I originally picked up my camera in high school and played with film. I always enjoyed the hands on aspect of it and the meticulous process of developing to printing. When I was eighteen had a lot of time to play with a Sony Cyber Shot 3.2 mega pixel camera and I loved it. I would take my photos and make patterns, brushes and play with blending images. Without realizing it, photoshop became my muse. I went to Kenya and a Doctor gave me his DSLR and say try this. I went nuts and my eyes opened up and realized this was the next level. It was ,and still is, an ongoing process of creating, playing, blending and simplifying. I have chosen to pursue photography and graphic design as my career for 8 years now and the neat thing is, that the photography has taken me far beyond what I expected. It is like a key that has opened many doors and opportunities I never expected.

Part of Alex Houghton’s ‘Reflected’ series

I’ve noticed you’re original fascination with blending images and transforming them is highlighted in your mini-series, Reflected. Would you care to talk a little bit about the inspiration behind the series?

I love temples and I always felt I couldn’t appreciate the detail of the roofs. I started playing with my zoom lens and trying to capture the detail. I would try find stairs, passage ways, what ever I could do to get higher. I went home and started playing and it struck me that if I reflected my creations on themselves the details were more clear to the viewer. I started playing with the patterns, the colors, the symmetry. Next thing I know it is one of my favorite things to do.

How did the artistic process differ there? Does what you’ve done in the mini-series reflect a satisfaction in a different process or is it simply an extension of what you find interesting about photography?

For me the Reflected Series went back to my Graphic Design Roots. My photography has gone thru phases of heavy editing to simple editing. Reflected allowed me to push the boundary that people became fascinated rather than old conversation of too much or too little photoshop. It’s a different state of mind when I go out to capture stuff for reflected, I search for something that stands out, analyze it, imagine it and then photograph it and edit it.

How has your love of photography changed?

My love of photography is apart of who I am. Every day I am playing with photos, taking photos, researching locations, reading about techniques and having fun with it. It hasn’t changed, it has become more intense and in every aspect of my daily life.

Some people say that art changes the way we see things. How did photography begin changing how you see things?

Playing with perspective, lying on my back in temples, leaning over boats to get the most reflection from the water surface– I love textures, everyday life and the details of makes your local neighbourhood feel so home like. My hope would be that people look at my photos and then go back to there home and see opportunities all round them to photograph. I can’t say it has changed what I see cause a lot of my work was just the way I see it naturally.

Why did you choose to feature Taiwan in your first book?

Taiwan is the longest place I have lived combination of 13 years. This is where I learnt everything, made some of the best friendships, kicked off my working career, fell in love, studied and become who I am today. I wanted to celebrate this beautiful country and show people the diversity of what Taiwan has to offer. I want people not to think of a concrete jungle but rather a wild, intriguing, cultural rich island of treasures. Taiwan to me is the Venice of Asia, I try to explore as much as possible and I feel I am still scratching the surface of possibilities.

I noticed you had different categories: People, animals, mountains, water etc. All in pinyin. How did those categories come about? Why did you choose to write everything in pinyin?

I got organised and laid out all my photos and I saw themes pop out at me, either by colour scheme, lines, and textures and grouped them. By doing that it made the images stronger as a collection to compare and emphasize.

Like my website name is a play on English and Chinese, I wanted my albums to be a play on words.

What do you enjoy shooting most?

Taiwan temples. The detail, history, colours, craftsmanship, the community and peoples all coming for their own reasons. When I enter a temple I imagine how every piece was hand made and put together. The significance of symbols and meanings, the richness of preserving the temple culture and the dedication from the people who maintain it.

What was/is the most challenging part of photography? What advice would you give someone interested in photography?

The challenging part is keeping organised and not ending up with hundreds of photos never edited and sorted. I have tried to slow myself down as we can all go trigger happy especially with digital. The world wants to see photos. so the challenge is getting them off your computer as a nice background in the hands of people to see your work.

Photography is you stopping to capture a moment in time that stood out to you. There are always photos we wish we took, photos that make us want to know how they did that. No matter what celebrate in your own creativity, don’t analyse but rather appreciate. Whatever cameras you have take it out with you. Document what you like, create a memory and have a photo to reflect on it. Art is about expressing yourself so don’t get discouraged; show the world your point of view!

Red Roomers browse through Houghton’s prints and peruse his book at the opening of Red Room’s third Visual Dialogues

One of Alex’s photos that have become an iconic visual for Red Room.

When did you first get involved with the Red Room? Why did you choose the Red Room to exhibit your work?

I first came to Red Room 6 years ago when they first opened. I came down with my camera and photographed the layout. 6 years later, 2 of my photos have been used constantly.

Roma [Mehta] has always been a huge role of support for me. She has encouraged me to show the world my photography. She helped me get published in the Centered magazine my “Sausage Man” photo. That encouragement and friend network/support within the Red Room wanted me to do my exhibit with Red Room.

What is it about the Red Room you feel is special?

The Red Room is a space to be creative without borders; it is a place to explore ideas, collaborations, and network with such a chill vibe. Since returning to Taiwan, I just love what Red Room has become and the development over the last 6 years. This is something special that is very unique.

How would you like to see Red Room transform and grow?

I feel Red Room is such a creative hub as long as the people are behind it, we can take it anywhere. It is a place of no boundaries and constant exploration for creativity. I would love to see Red Room get an established long term base so they can set up and invest in it for the long term. I want to see Red Room keep its personal touch while becoming a part of the creative movement growing in Taiwan.

How would you like to see your photography grow? Do you have any goals for your future? Any places you’d like to capture?

I would love to see my photography in collaboration with tourism. It is a dream that my photos could represent someone’s first impression of where they are going. I am going to India for the first time in 2016 and that’s mind blowing for me and can’t wait. There are too many places I want to go to be honest. I lived in Taiwan for twelve years and I feel I haven’t scratched the surface still! I think rather than saying one place, I’ll go anywhere camera in hand. Sometimes the picture you find is a plane ride away or just round the corner.

By Leah List

Reflections, STW December 2015

January 1, 2016/0 Comments/in Reflections /by Roma Mehta

When we tell stories, we are doing more than entertaining or orating; we are sharing part of our identity. Many of us approach the stage sheepishly, as if we might get kicked off. Some of us make nervous requests, fiddling with our guitar. Some, like Alex Gilliam and Emily Loftis, request politely for attention, shuffling through printed poems or scrolling through our phones. Meanwhile others, like Paul Power and his violin, or Peter Biggs and his impressions, relish showmanship and almost demand attention. A small sum of us seem to shrug off the audience and ascend into our own world, like Vivian twirling her scarf as she danced, or Vicky, eyes closed, listening to the smooth crackle of her voice. Every Stage Time & Wine, performers are revealing a part of themselves and entreating the audience to listen, if not to accept.

Often, the audience’s most important job is simply to listen. Red Room’s Stage Time & Wine LXXIV began with a listening exercise. The main precept of this exercise requires silence from the participants. Though participants start the exercise with skepticism, they often discover a number of sounds beyond voices they’d previously ignored. The exercise reminded Red Roomers of the multitude of ways we can listen to even the smallest things.

Throughout the night, as the audience watched the performers, I watched the audience. Some had laid down, stretching out lazily, eyes closed while Alex read her poem. During another performance, some were bobbing and raising their hands and grinning as another Red Roomer free-styled. Some of us fidgeted or hunched over ourselves. Later, I would watch the listeners tip-toe up to the performers to convey a compliment or inquire about the meaning of a line.

As I continued to watch I was reminded of a comment a professor had once relayed to a class. She said she had watched a teacher in a classroom grow increasingly frustrated with students who refused to make eye contact while she spoke, or who doodled during her lecture. To her, these behaviors evinced a lack of interest. Many students had been taught, after all, that listening meant eye contact and straight backs. Yet, this is not the reality. In reality, people listen in many ways.

Sometimes a head is not bowed in disinterest, but in intense focus, as if removing the sense of sight would sharpen the notes and words heard. The writings collected at the end of the night were proof of this, some people had written compliment like “Magical Mister E gave a magical performance”, others their favorite quotes—a line from a Daniel Black poem or Kyle.

As the evening drew to a close, Julie Chiu entranced us with the ‘moon’ gong, bringing the room to a contemplative quietness. The gong master whirled around us, drawing deep rings from the instrument and keeping rhythm. Someone shouted from the back. “Can we have a group OM before we go?” he asked the audience over the sounds of rustling papers and bags. Tentatively, Red Roomers rose and interlocked hands. The rustling reduced itself to a exiguous whisper before being extinguished by the echoing sounds of chanting. We listened deeply to our own voices layered into the voices of others.

Leah List
Editor, Red Room

Red Room Renaissance Festival: November 2015

December 15, 2015/0 Comments/in Reflections /by Roma Mehta

Renaissance Festival

View slide show

In the early hours of the twenty-first, we stood across the street mumbling drowsy greetings and admiring the banner adorning the entrance of the TAF compound. Even from a distance its vibrant colors and characters captured our attention. Ten minutes later we gathered under the festival tents, decidedly more lively after consuming coffee and dan bing, and watched the sky drop its first tentative drops of the day. “Oh dear,” one dismayed volunteer murmured. Another volunteer quickly replied that “[it’d] be good luck.”. “Don’t you know rain on a festival day is good luck?” she asked us with a grin.Rain has become something of a traditional part of Red Room’s anniversaries; in fact, not a single Red Room anniversary has been without it. Though rain can be a nuisance, it is perhaps a fitting symbol of Red Room’s rebirth.

Red Roomers watch an outside performance under umbrellas.

In a traditional sense, rain has always symbolized revival; rain transforms the land through nourishing the soil. Similarly, Red Room has transformed through finding new soil. Since moving to the TAF, Red Room has introduced a myriad of events and activities for the community. In short, Red Room’s rebirth has ushered a new era, enabling Red Roomers to attain new heights in expressing creativity. This idea of rebirth was well captured during Red Room’s anniversary, which proudly presented some of the community’s new initiatives including a first glimpse at plays written and performed by members of the Red Room community. When Red Roomers weren’t enjoying performances, they were able to peruse the walls which were adorned with featured art by J.J. Chen and Ted Pigott from Red Room’s second Visual Dialogues.

Yet, Red Room’s expansion and rebirth has not drastically eroded the traditions Red Roomers value most. The return of rain on November 21st also reminded many Red Roomers of the aspects they love most about the community. For as the sky drizzled, community members gathered, laughed and shared. During Stage Time & Juice, the rain did not hinder the imaginations of Juicers as they fought agents of destruction, or dazzled audiences with magic. Indeed, it did not prevent them from embarking on great adventures on the grounds, imaginary sword and cape in hand. As the day cooled, Red Roomers could again gather inside to listen to rich stories by performers from Red Room Radio Redux’s Read Aloud.

Juicers unleash their imagination during Stage Time & Juice

Outside, Red Roomers were treated to a mix of sounds from musicians whose sound ranged from classic rock, to blues, to traditional aboriginal. Crowds gathered in front of the colorful stage, hands cupping a warm cup of 臺Walla, Red Room Chai from R & D Lab, or a beer from Bloch Brewing Company. They browsed artisan booths holding a sandwich from Sprout or Belgian fries from Belga, and watched new and old Red Room musicians perform.

Red Roomers collect in front of the stage for a late night performance

To memorialize the day, artists sketched Red Roomers, photographers snapped candids and, for the braver Red Roomers, artists offered free slow poke tattoos. Red Roomers could also transform themselves with anything from haircuts and metallic body art to the opportunity to learn about and dedicate themselves to important social issues. Of course there were plenty of opportunities to make less tangible memories. Red Room offered countless opportunities to get involved. Upstairs and downstairs, Red Roomers could participate in art whether through painting on a scroll, leaving their handprint on a canvas or speaking on community and compassion.

A Red Roomer prepares to add his hand print to the canvas.

As the day drew to an end, and the sky exchanged the sun for the stars, performers exchanged the stage for the Red Roomfloor. The members of Mafana and Faloco gathered beneath the stairs to continue celebrating. Sitting in a circle, they sang with ebullient enthusiasm, swaying and grinning; strumming and beating. Their joy was so irresistible that other Red Roomers soon joined in. Meanwhile, other performers moved inside to avoid the rain, exchanging a public performance for a more intimate one. Lights reflected warmly off the gathered crowd who watched transfixed as Valentin Le Chat and La Gitanita seamlessly merged different styles of physical art.

La Gitanita balances two of Valentin Le Chat’s juggling balls

The crowds did not dissipate, even as the night cooled. Instead, Red Roomers did what they do best. They provided a platform for artists and community members to express themselves creatively. They reveled in each other’s triumphs and talents and embraced each other’s goals and initiatives. The Renaissance Festival offered Red Roomers the opportunity to connect with six years of memories and renew their keenness to contribute to communities through art and volunteerism. Red Room is sustained by its community members’ passion and compassion and the anniversary was a wonderful continuation and expansion of those virtues.

Red Room volunteers gather at the end of a fulfilling day

Leah List
Editor, Red Room News

Reflections on Aside 11, 31 October 2015

December 15, 2015/in Reflections /by Roma Mehta

Reflections on Aside 11 @ the Red Room

I remember watching my dad meditate when I was young. I tried to imitate him, but I just couldn’t keep myself from fidgeting, my mind from racing. As I grew older, meditation, as well as the spiritual benefits it offers remained beyond my reach. I struggled to understand spirituality. What does connecting with the world on a “spiritual level” entail? How can anyone know if they are on “their spiritual path”? I couldn’t tell. Attending the eleventh Aside @ the Red Room, allowed me to explore those questions and provided possible answers to the questions I’d wrestled with.

Tina Ma opened the night by welcoming Red Roomers and newcomers to the space with sage and blessing words. As sage smoke drifted through the air, Ma posed a question to us “What is our purpose?” she asked. This question has caused many people some stress and uncertainty, but Tina Ma uttered her answer with serenity. “Find your power and share your story…so we can learn, laugh and love together.” Finding a purpose doesn’t have to be a large or complicated endeavor, just as sharing your story doesn’t require a large audience or polished compositions. Tina Ma found purpose in many things from spending time with her elders, to learning about new cultures, to collecting feathers for a headpiece she wore that night. Pulling each feather from the hat, she told the story of how she found them. As she pulled the last feather from her headpiece, she told us that though it was dilapidated and lacked aesthetic beauty, it still had a purpose. It had a story to tell, and so do all of us. Our purpose is as simple as telling our own stories and being respectful of others’, whether they are human, animal, or plant, stories. We don’t need to do anything greater than that.

Neo Young expanded on Tina Ma’s question and assured listeners that finding their spiritual path doesn’t require ceremony or pomp. In fact, assessing whether we are on ‘our spiritual path’ can be accomplished by asking four basic questions when encountering problems or opportunities. The first question seeks to aid us in self-growth. “Are you expanding or being limited?” Neo asked the audience before urging them to “get rid of self-limitations” and pursuing our dreams. Second, we should reflect on our choices to learn if addressing all possible opportunities and solutions by asking if our choices are “inclusive” or “exclusive.” Next, we should ensure our actions are ethical by asking if we are “choosing our highest choice.” Finally, he instructed listeners to apply their knowledge and their own unique experiences to whatever they face.

When an audience member asked him how they might move beyond their fears of failure he advised them to forgive themselves for past failures then to “fully choose and let go [of doubt]”, telling them that [they are] stronger than whatever [they] think is hard.” Growth or success need not be immediately apparent or tremendous. If you are expanding, including all opportunities, following your “light” and applying what you know then you can “master your own consciousness” and move forward with your goals.

Stefano Lodola provided evidence of the joy one can find when following their spiritual path through sharing his own story. He confessed he “was never meant” to find his path, but managed to stumble onto it while working as an engineer in Japan. After years of dedicating himself to the pursuits society encouraged him to follow, he abruptly ended his career in engineering and began following his own path. He studied music, opera specifically. The stories and richness in opera engendered in him both passion and contentment. He felt liberated and empowered to explore that which had been denied to him by societal norms. He cast off much of his material possessions and began traveling, sharing his story and his music wherever he went.

Charles Haines and Thomas Bellmore revealed the value in sharing another’s story during their live performance of Edgar Allen Poe’s ‘The Raven’. While Thomas provided a stirring reading, skillfully balancing anger and despair, Charles’s skilled brush revealed the objects of Poe’s longing and his torment, his lost love Lenore. Both performers accentuated the story through their interpretation and revealed how a story can be shared through different mediums and still be impactful.

At the end of the night An-ny Lee masterfully wove both stories and listeners together through dance and meditation. All of us, through participating in the experience, learned to embrace all aspects of ourselves. It is through embracing ourselves and loving ourselves that we feel full enough to love others, to share that love. We can find joy through a connection to ourselves in meditation and through sharing that connection and wisdom with others through dance. Listeners spent the end of the night leaping around the room, hooting and laughing. They pulled faces at one another, grinned, and reeled all under An-ny’s guidance. After a short, but delightful, time blessing one another, An-ny called us back to re-center and look inwards. While we all breathed and chanted together she guided us to find our own wisdom, and to observe and sustain self-love.

I left that night feeling refreshed and less uncertain about my purpose or my ‘path’. Sometimes spirituality means pursuing what you love, in spite of what society might tell you. Other times it means re-centering through meditation or reflection. Still other times it means sharing joy and knowledge with others. Our spiritual path is never set, or certain. We forge our own path through the choices we make every day and through the stories we choose to tell.

By Leah List
Editor for the Red Room News

Leah List is a recent graduate of the University of Michigan’s Political Science and International Studies program. She is an aspiring writer, researcher, human rights advocate and a believer in the importance of storytelling. She currently resides in Zhongli, where she teaches English. In her free time, she can be found at the Red Room where she volunteers.

Interview with Alex Schmoyer, November 2015

December 2, 2015/in Interviews /by Roma Mehta

Interview with Alex Schmoyer

“It is euphoric up there. You feel bliss. Your writing is better spoken out loud.” Alex Schmoyer is a Red Room regular, performing every month since his arrival, a foundation in creating our vibe. In January 2014, being a new, fresh face to Taipei, Schmoyer was eager to find the must go to spots. After a co-worker told him of Red Room, he has assimilated into the community, making Red Room his creative space and poetry platform. This new atmosphere of RR provides for a clear headspace of the power and attention that spoken word deserves, as well as Schmoyer a chance to share.

He has been around poetry his whole life. His father also a poet has been pushing and inspiring his creative energy since he was young. It was not until Schmoyer moved to Taiwan though, that he began writing more prolifically and seriously. It became a part of his everyday. Poetry is fun. Frustrating and difficult, but fun. He finds that it is more manageable than prose, you can wrap your head around it. Poetry isn’t just his creative outlet, but his talent.

A poem can talk about anything: film, news, media, an action, idea, or feeling. Schmoyer likes to explore the accessible, making it more particular, bending it into the absurd or nonsensical. His work oscillates around and through music, film, the sensory, and the cerebral. These inspire him to explore either by trying to capture the feeling of a song by listening to it on repeat for hours or by examining the current news on possible life forms in another galaxy. He will listen to an album or a song on repeat just to capture that feeling you are left with at the end of a beat, lyric or camera shot.

Film is where it all started. Stanley Kubrick got him into film, and actor John Cassavetes, known as the “father of American independent cinema”, as well as Werner Herzog, the eccentric director of Grizzly Man and Aguirre, the Wrath of God, kept him in it. All three men kept him hooked in film and keep him constantly coming back each as a source of creative energy. Schmoyer doesn’t read much poetry. It feels too close to meter and rhyme. Each being characteristics in formal poetry that can put too many constraints on your creative headspace. Schmoyer prefers lyric-less electronic music, Modest Mouse on repeat, or the occasional limitation of a formal haiku as sources of inspiration.

“The hardest part of creating is courage to act. Find what inspires you and just do it.”

Leah List

Meet the artist: Interview with Ted Pigott

December 2, 2015/in Interviews, Visual Dialogues /by Roma Mehta

Photos from Ted’s current exhibition at the Red Room

I burst through the doors of The Toasteria, out of breath and late. As I approached the stairs a man in black appeared. “Are you looking for Ted? He’s upstairs,” he said gesturing past staggered rows of drawings. Ted Pigott had been drawing over his lunchbreak at the Toasteria for a year when the owner of the restaurant asked him to display his drawings of the scenery and the food. The drawings in question featured a variety of styles from point work, to watercolor, black and white ink sketches, to colored pencil. Each drawing was encompassed by a simple, matte black frame. Though the frame stands out from the white walls of the Toasteria, it doesn’t dominate the space nor does it obscure the art. Like the artist, it eschews ostentation and exhibits a genuine, relaxed feel.

While some artists may define their main inspiration as another artist or as a lofty philosophy about what art should be, Ted’s philosophy is often delivered through a series of simple mantras: Draw what you see. Share what you draw. Every day is better when you draw. As long as he has his pen and pad of paper, he’s happy. In fact, his Facebook, which is covered with portraits of strangers, flowers, scenery, food, is a testament to his philosophy.

As I opened up the menu, Ted leaned over to recommend the three cheese omelet. “It’s my favorite. That’s why I drew it twice.” He chuckled. Sure enough, the wall behind us featured two omelets: one in color, the other in black and white. I looked back at the drawings for a moment. “Did you ever envision, when you were young, that this would be your life?” I asked him. He confessed he hadn’t. In fact, he hadn’t drawn for over two decades when he picked up his pen again in 2014.
It all started with a single line drawn over his lunchbreak. He had a sketchbook and, as the server placed a coffee mug in front of him, he decided to pick up his pen and try to draw it. “It probably wasn’t that good,” he told me. “But at least I did something that day for myself.” What began as a hobby soon became his full time job when he began sharing his work on Facebook. He speaks highly of the internet which has allowed him to share his art and aided his getting noticed by the Toasteria and the Red Room.

He has since largely overcome the fear and excuses he made for himself before that year. When I asked how an artist might overcome such a fear he replied “It doesn’t have to be perfect. Just get it on paper. Draw that first line.” After that, it’s just honing your craft. Throughout the video he maintained that anyone could become an artist if they wanted it enough. The way to do so is simple: Do what you love, love what you do, the rest comes from diligent practice of your craft.
Perhaps most important to Ted is his passion and his independence. He espouses the importance of following your own perspective and maintaining your own artistic integrity. He claims the internet is a large part of what has allowed him to sustain that independence. “The world is my studio, the internet my gallery,” he told me toward the end of the interview. With a sketchbook and a pen he’s happy wherever he goes, as long as he can draw what he’s passionate about.
If you’re looking to speak with Ted about his art, you might find him at a Red Room event, with his notebook and pens out. His drawings of the Red Room community, as well as other things he likes, are currently featured at the Red Room for the month of November. If you’d like to view Ted Pigott’s art, you can visit the Red Room where his art will be displayed next to JJ Chen’s for Red Room’s second installment in the Visual Dialogues series. You can also hear more about their art and their involvement with the Red Room at their Visual Dialogue Vernissage on November 18th.
You can read the full interview below or visit Ted’s Facebook page to see more of his art.

Did you ever envision, when you were young, that this would be your life?

No, I never did. That’s why I stopped drawing for twenty some years. I was working full time as a consultant nearby here, so I was traveling around and very busy, but then one day I thought “Hey I need to do something for me.” Before I’d work at my desk; I’d have meetings; I’d read Bloomberg business week. I thought I needed a bit of a change. So, number one, I thought I had to get out of the office. I thought I’m going to walk around and see the neighborhoods. Number two, I wanted to find good food and a good place to sit for the full hour—not like a dumpling place, not a noodle shop, not like a café. And the third thing was I wanted to do something I wanted to do. [I didn’t want to] read work e-mails, or do copy writing.
So I had a sketchbook and I decided that “hey, maybe I should try to draw this coffee cup”. So I just tried to draw it, and it probably wasn’t that good. Then my food came so I closed the book and I ate. It probably wasn’t that good but at least I did something that day for myself. You spend so much time doing things for somebody else that it’s rare you find time to do something for yourself. Anyone can do it. You can work on a play. You can draw. You can do whatever, but you can take that one hour and give it to yourself. [You should] not just sit and watch the news, or trying to get ahead of work. It’s up to each person.

When did you start deciding you wanted to exhibit your work? It seems like something that started to decompress, something to do for you. When did it become something more than that?

Well, I started sharing my work on Facebook. Share your work. That’s another philosophy of mine. Social media is the best way to do that. Before all my stuff would just be in my sketchbook and you would never see it. You might see it and think “Oh, he’s got a sketchbook.” But you would never see it unless I showed it to you. Now if you like my page, if you are my friend on Facebook you know I draw a lot. It’s a great way to share. Also, if I show you my sketchbook now you might feel, out of politeness, “Oh, that’s good” or they don’t know what to say but they see it on Facebook by themselves, they might think “Hey I’ll give it a like”. I think the internet to day is very visual. If you write a story, a fictional story, not a lot of people are going to read it. They might think: I’m not going to read this, it’s too long, but a picture of flowers? ‘Like’. I like that. So it might make someone’s day a little better.

It connects with people a little quicker than written word? It’s more accessible?

I think so. I think because it’s so visual and it’s a picture. It’s not a photograph, it’s different. You’ve taken some time to draw something so it has a more personal feel to it. You draw something and people like to look at it. [Photographs are still useful though—especially with camera phones.] Before I had to scan it, but phones are so good I can just take pictures of my drawing and upload them. That’s how you share you work and [phones] are a very valuable tool to help you share.

Another mantra is “Draw what you see”. Do you mean that literally? Do you feel there’s so much to see that it’s better to render ‘real life’?

That can be taken quite a few ways. That could be taken literally, or it could be like what you draw what you imagine. Draw what you see. The first part of the mantra is just draw. Every day you gotta draw –draw, draw, draw. Then what you see is the things that you, as an individual, see. I see these flowers, probably in a different way than you see these flowers. I gotta draw what I see. It can be imaginary, I’m not saying everything’s gotta be realistic but it has to be from your perspective. My perspective is probably different than yours.

[Your perspective is different] in more ways than one.

Yeah, exactly, the things I see are different. You live in Zhongli and I live in Taipei. I’m a man and you’re a woman. I see things differently than you. I’m interested in these flowers, MRT, beer, what I see what I ride around in Taipei.
I don’t draw a lot of temples. I don’t go to a lot of temples [because] that’s not what I see. You have to draw your passion. That’s another one of my mantras: Draw what you love, love what you draw. You gotta love what you draw. You have to draw what makes you excited. This [three cheese omelet] I like a lot. Beer, I like a lot. Pizza. These are things I like. These are things that make me excited, make me want to share. I’m not forced to draw something.

You don’t force yourself to draw things you aren’t inspired by.

Yeah. I think it’s possible to draw things you aren’t inspired by but I don’t think it has that same feel or magic. That’s what an illustrator has to do. They have to draw pieces they don’t want to draw. I’m not interested in technically possible. I think something that really moves people has to come from a place of passion.

When you first started you said your drawings probably weren’t that good. I feel a lot of people, especially beginners, they tend not to get past that stage, the ‘It’s not good stage’. How were you able to push past that? Were you able to do it because you told yourself it should be about you, about relaxing and de-stressing? How did you get yourself in the mindset to continue drawing? Then, when you decided to pursue it in a more serious way, that is, in a way that would allow for exhibitions, how did you transition from it being more personal, and private to public? Did you change your mindset at all?

That’s a tough question because I think it’s a real paradox. You care about what people think, but you also have to not care what people think. You know, you put stuff on the internet; you put it out there; you share your work. You have to just be strong enough to put it out there. People are going to criticize it. They’re going to take it in ways you didn’t think [about]. They’re going to make fun of it—all that kind of stuff. But who cares? You can’t care. That’s another one of my mantras: Don’t think. Just draw. Don’t think about what they’re saying. Who cares what they’re saying? Don’t think about what they might say about it. Draw it. Make it. Get it out there and then post it. If they like it [then] they like it. If they don’t then you still drew it. You can’t take that positive or negative feedback too seriously. It’s kind of just noise. You’re going to do it anyway. If you really love it. I would draw even if I couldn’t share it. It helps to get feedback, to know people are seeing it but I’d still do it even if I couldn’t share it.

Of course it’s nice to get validation.

Of course it is, but you can’t let that control you. “I think I know what people want to see,” that’s where you get into trouble. A lot of people are suggesting I publish a book [because it’s popular to do so]. You know, maybe what’s popular is not really my passion right now. Maybe I could, but I don’t know about now. You have to do what you like.

So, maybe, in the future you might do so?

Yeah, maybe, I mean I’m open to anything.

You’re not concerned about the future. You’re just enjoying the present.

Yeah, maybe, maybe [I’m] not enjoying but just doing. [I’m] sort of, like, thinking: don’t think, just draw. You have to draw every day. That’s just me. It could be you gotta sing every day, you gotta draw every day. You gotta make something every day. You have to do it for you.
I think a lot of us just sit back and we watch five season of Breaking Bad or we gotta get caught up on Homeland. There are so many great shows but, maybe, you should do it. You have to just do it—create something.
I don’t know. There’s room for both. There’s a balance. You can get some inspiration from shows, they’re very well done, but someone else made those shows. Most of us just sit and watch them. Let’s all go and make something. I’m really passionate about that. I think you have to make it yourself.

I read the Facebook post you wrote at the end of 2014 and I think it’s really interesting to see how far you’ve come from “I’m afraid” to “I’m okay with making mistakes” to “I’m just going to do what I feel is right.” It seems like 2014 was a pivotal year of learning and discovery for you. Do you keep all of your drawings? Do you even keep those that become more a lesson than a final sketch? Is there such a thing as final sketch? (Perhaps it’s when you’ve stopped being interested in the subject matter– if that ever happens?)

I do keep all of my drawings.
I think a famous artist once said no piece of art (or novel or whatever) is ever finished–it’s just abandoned. And sometimes you may return to them later, just to look at them again or to try to learn something from them or even to add something new.
In any case, I do think 2014 was a big year in my life, when it some to learning and discovery, as you mentioned. I still feel as if I’m learning every day, though, and I still feel there’s so much left to learn.

And now you have an exhibition here. How did that happen?

Well the owner saw it on Facebook and he really liked it. He’s an artist himself, he’s a musician. He really appreciates the passion I put in. He contacted me and asked if I would like to exhibit. I selected sixteen different drawings. Over the course of a year I sat in different places and drew then I brought them all together and we picked the ones we wanted to show. He was really nice to give me free reign to decide what I wanted to show.
That’s why I like the internet. Before you had to go to gallery owners and beg them. You had to beg them “Please, please show my work.” Now, you can just post it on the internet. It doesn’t have to go viral immediately. It doesn’t have to get a million views, but you can build an audience. The world is my studio, the internet my gallery.

I’m now looking at your website and I see this picture of the Toasteria.

Yes! It’s the outside of the Toasteria. All the drawings I did for this exhibition were done here over the course of a year or so. So this is the place I would come to draw– here and a few other places—and I’d sit here and draw as much as I could. In September of last year I left my job and drew full time, freelance, and did some freelance writing and editing. Mostly my whole thing is just to draw I try to make myself my top priority. It’s easy as a freelancer to take case you don’t want to do, but if you do that a few years later you’re going to have a lot of drawings but nothing for you.
I try to limit that as much as possible so I can draw for myself.

It seems you really value your independence, and you follow through on your passion.

I’m very lucky. I feel blessed to be doing what I love. You know, other people might not be so lucky. They might need expensive equipment, a studio. All I need is a sketchbook and a pen. That’s all I need and I’m happy.

Leah List

Reflections STW 72, October 2015

November 6, 2015/0 Comments/in Reflections /by Roma Mehta

Entering the building, you’re greeted by a familiar outfit of friendly volunteers and friends. You pay for your ticket and, stopping by, the food table, you make your way to the welcoming red carpets at the front of the room. Over the past several months, you’ve become accustomed to this routine. You welcome it. For a moment, in that comfort, you forget what the Red Room is: an experiment. So, when Ping stands up to make his usual announcements, you don’t suspect he might have something else to announce. “I met a new friend today,” he tells us with a glint in his eyes that suggests he is party to an exciting secret. “I saw Billy Chang ( 張逸軍) and asked him to come perform for us. Here he is!”

He gestures to the back of the room. You, and a hundred other Red Roomers, follow his hand curiously. A man emerges from the divider, fluidly weaving between tables and bystanders. Suddenly, he nimbly jumps on a table; everyone gasps. He begins moving around us, creating long lines, wrapping himself around lanterns like they were beloved moons, jumping, flipping, and spinning so quickly that his outfit whirls around him. You’re enthralled. In that moment, you’re reminded that Stage Time & Wine is not meant to be routine and, in the moments when you least expect it, something you never could have predicted happens. How fitting that Ping would bring a little magic to us during the month of Halloween.

During October’s Stage Time & Wine, audience members listened to an elf play the piano and a devil strum a song. In the back, one listener sat with sketchbook out, recording the life of the room, another sat with a notebook, scribbling quotes, and notes, and questions. Later in the evening, Trevor Tortomasi took the stage to share a coming of age story about a surprising relationship between unicycles and freedom. To the left a group of friends laughed at the unexpected ending to his tale as they continued to pass a communal bottle of wine between them.

What the array of performances, words and exchanges emblematizes is the diversity of the Red Room community. At the end of the night, Red Roomers shared notes from the well of words. True to the rest of the night, a variety of notes were shared with the performers and listeners of Red Room ranging from intimate notes, to encouragement to silly phrases. Most memorably, one listener wrote a simple, encouraging statement: “Performing takes a heart of courage”. Each performer and each listener chose to give freely and speak openly about their opinions, abilities and lives. After attending several months a pattern may appear to emerge from these gatherings; yet, tonight was reminder for all of us that with openness, acceptance, and a little magic, so many more things are possible than you could ever realize.

Leah List
Editor for the Red Room E-news

Meet the Artist: An Interview with Ben McCaffery

October 18, 2015/0 Comments/in Interviews, Reflections /by Roma Mehta

We will be posting a series of conversations with some of the creatives from the Red Room and also the volunteers who make it possible to make our events happen.

Leah List in conversation with Ben McCaffrey, artist and creator of ‘Betsy’, the Red Room bar.

How might you describe your art?

I wouldn’t. I don’t mind when other people do, but I always feel resistant to voicing some fleeting intention or aim that I may have entertained but which may not now even apply to the finished piece. Most of the process is intuitive and it passes without being willful or having some internal dialogue. I try and work on something until I’m pleased with it and then, if it’s any good it will resonate – describe and present itself suitably. The work itself is the intended expression and it shouldn’t need more.

What inspires you to create it?

Curiosity.

A distinctive part of your art is the materials used to create it. Others have described you as an avid upcycler. What drew you to upcycling?

I’m actually more of a finder. There are so many items to be found. I tend to be drawn to discarded or abandoned objects – you can find them on the beach, the roadside, in second-hand shops, all over the place – and when lucky or awake you may stumble across some this or that that you like that has some quality you admire, and nobody has taken charge of loving it or putting it to use. So, then it’s your obligation to preserve this treasure that may otherwise go unappreciated. It doesn’t have to have universal value, the connection will be personal. And I will keep it for a while trying to figure out where it best belongs. Some objects are perfect as they are, like a chair or a glass bottle for example, and some may have no purpose at all other than being liked by me, but usually anything found and picked up will present itself as a timely solution to some puzzle down the line, and find its way out of the studio. I like to keep the inventory liquid and manageable.

Some of your art, like Betsy bar and Brutus Campbell shelf is more architectural and also serves very utilitarian purpose. How is the process for creating these pieces different from creating your visual art, if at all? Are there any architectural elements, beyond upcycling, that you feel are distinctive in your art?

I like ‘Brutus Campbell’ as a name for the shelf. And, Betsy Campbell, the bar girl makes me laugh. Thinking about it now, one difference in process between making furniture and painting may be that when painting I would never think about how tall the average viewer would be or what composition would be easier on the viewer’s eye movement. In painting, it seems there is no artist concern for the viewer’s physical needs. I better get on it.

Betsy Bar was created at Red Room’s request. Do you often make pieces for clients this way?

Yes, most of my work now is by commission.

Would you tell us a bit about some of your favorite art pieces you’ve created?

: Picture 1

: Picture 2

: Picture 3

Picture 1 and Picture 2: I like it because of its independent and androgynous nature. Oh yeah, and I like red and green.*
Picture 3: Lady and chair. I’ve kept this painting for myself. It is from 1991. The attraction to it is simple for me but I won’t explain, see number 1.

It has been mentioned that you’ve often chosen to live in shipping containers out of pure preference. What about that lifestyle appeals to you?

Small inside, big outside.

Are there any questions you wish people would ask you about your art, or about you?

Any question suits me fine. “Would you like some more pie?” is a pretty great question.

What do you hope your art will achieve?

I hope that it complements whatever is good in the viewer.

*Ben McCaffery is accepting offers for the first piece and is available for commissions. wildben@gmail.com

Meet the Artist: An Interview with Charles Haines

October 18, 2015/0 Comments/in Interviews, Reflections /by Roma Mehta

We will be posting a series of conversations with some of the creatives from the Red Room and also the volunteers who make it possible to make our events happen.

Leah List in conversation with Charles Haines, Red Room volunteer and one of the two artists featured in Visual Dialogues 1, currently showing at the Red Room Gallery.

How would you describe your art? What inspires you?

Well, generally I don’t like talking about myself. Generally I’m a very self-effacing person, so when someone asks me a question [about my art] I try to answer the best that I can. One of my biggest inspirations is Norval Morrisseau. He’s an indigenous artist. He’s an Ojibway artist. I am inspired by indigenous art in general. Taiwan indigenous cultures are a big inspiration to my work. I would describe my work as full of the colors of my spirit.

What is it about these cultures that are so special beyond the ideas of spirit and change. What draws you to it?

I guess there are two reasons. The first one is that my [adopted] sister was more than half indigenous. I knew that from a very young age and that was something that affected me. Even if she, at that time, wasn’t interested in her roots, I was interested in her roots. Later she become interested and helped me to discover more. The other reason was the gallery in the community I grew up in called the McMichael gallery. They have a wonderful collection of Canadian art. In their collection they have indigenous works of art– some of which are considered artifacts, not necessarily fine art. They have some totem poles and masks by the Haida people and then they have paintings by Norval Morrisseau – as well as Canadian landscape paintings by the Group of Seven who painted in an impressionistic style.

The most vivid memories I have are these very striking, colorful indigenous works. Even the totems, [which were] not painted, were very distinctive. At a very early age, I was running around the gallery.

What parts of these cultures do you take and change? How do you mix these two things together to create something that is uniquely yours?

Actually, for the most part, I hope I’m taking something and making it my own. I’m not consciously copying anything, so it is my own and I always try to put myself into my work. I suppose one of the things that I’m most interested and that I try to put into my work is morphology: something changing into something else or some spirit inside another person or animal or, it could be a tree. I’m interested in the life of things.

I remember, in an earlier conversation, you mentioned crows being your inspiration. What is the importance of the ‘crow’ spirit to you? How do you separate the spirits and what is it about morphology and change that really captures the essence of life for you, do you think?

Well, for me, it’s that I was a crow in a former life and now I’m a person, so I changed, so I have a crow spirit. Also this idea of change is influenced by our modern culture. We’re endeavoring to improve on the human species and through that– some things are positive some things are negative– it’s like, every once in a while we do achieve something and change our DNA… I kind of maybe focus a little bit more on the darker aspects sometimes because that’s change, too. We all have this person on the inside that no one sees, our inner self that is something that interests me.

Many of them have flowing lines depicting one spirit changing to another. You also have a range of colors from vibrant to dark. I’m wondering since you’ve mentioned this positive-negative change, how to you capture those differences? You also mentioned focusing a little bit more on the “darker aspects sometimes”, is that something you consciously try to capture or is it more often affected by your mood?

The Changing spirits are showing what they are on the inside. I think it’s definitely affected by my mood, but also my earlier work is much darker. It has darkening tones with black and white and very little color. Though I suspect it has more to do with something else, I am a very happy person so I think my art work was an outlet for my darker side. I was releasing this dark energy in a constructive way. This was my young work. My later work has much more color and it’s much more vibrant.

So even your art has transformed? It’s another example of change.

Yes, absolutely, and I’m enjoying the color. At the time I started painting –I used to use color a lot, but I painted with oil. With oil you get a silky tone, a muted tone. You don’t get such vibrant colors– you get satiny colors most of the time. If you really want vibrant colors you can achieve that, but it’s satiny most of the time. Now I’m painting with an acrylic paint. Again, you can get a satiny color, but most of the time you get stark, vibrant colors.

When people look at your art, what is it you want them to feel? What is it you hope to achieve? Or do you just want to leave it to the viewer’s interpretation and connect with them in that way?

Maybe not. I hope I’m conveying some sense of myth or story or something, because I’m taking from these sources and interpreting them myself. I’ve done a lot of reading on mythology, so I hope some of that comes through, but I also hope that viewers can bring their own story to it too. That they will connect with the art. I really like it when a viewer says “Oh, I see this and this and this.” I love that.

It sort of brings the story to life and the spirit you created?

It does. It does. If somebody connects with it, when I first started, I thought to myself as a professional artist, my goal is not to, y’know, touch the people. It was to touch one person profoundly.

You talked about creating the story and allowing the viewer to connect to it in their own way. I’m wondering if you might elaborate on those stories. Perhaps, I’m sure you have your favorite, most artists do. Would you mind, maybe, telling us the story of some of your favorite paintings?

The story of the image is sort of a leaping off point, so it’s not necessary to try to convey a whole story in an image. It’s not an illustration. Some of my favorite ones include “The Siren”. The name was taken from a Greek myth. For me it’s also a lady that I know, who is– for me a kind of positive image– [because she has the body of a crow and] I consider myself a crow. At the time, when I put her head on a crow’s body, it was meant to be positive. Of course, a Siren could be read as a negative as well as Sirens lured men to their death, but also there’s the positive part of the siren which is their song which is very strong. They are very, very strong female characters and I sort of wanted to draw from that.

So, in a way, you’re playing with the positives and negatives we find in life through this painting? There’s definitely a bright, strong uplifting quality about the painting but, even the detail and the muted tones, also captured some of the darkness probably we all have?

Well, yes, it’s a picture of a person. So there is this positive energy and also this negative energy. It’s very wonderful and complex.
There’s one, it’s called “The Sun Spirit”. I’ve never, ever, ever been a sun worshipper. I don’t know where it came from. I’m more of a moon person, but since the sun and moon in my mind are quite close. They’re opposites, but they-

They complement each other?

Yes. Absolutely.

Spiritually they’re often dependent on one another and perhaps both are necessary for Earth, the way it is, to survive.

Yes, absolutely. Absolutely I think both are necessary for Earth. Actually, now that I think about it, this could be read as a very bright moon painting. I called it a sun painting, but it could be read a different way. That painting “The crow in the Sun” is inspired by a story about a crow that is in a sun. It flies to the top of a tree and that’s sort of the basic description. That tree is where it sits, at the tress apex. I thought that’s cool, that’s really interesting and it’s a Chinese story so it’s really interesting that they have a crow in a sun since crows are not looked upon too favorably here.
Another legend I read is about an archer who shoots down nine suns. There are ten suns in the sky and he shoots down nine suns. Actually there’s an aboriginal story with the same kind of idea, but in the Chinese story, each time he shoots down a sun, a crow spirit falls dead from the sky.
“Pangu makes order out of Chaos” which is another Chinese legend. [Pangu] separates the Earth and the Sky. Actually, the name came later. The painting I was thinking of was more of a raven spirit, but it has so many celestial things going on that the title fits it– even though it’s not a Chinese painting, it’s very aboriginal looking character.

Why the Red Room? Why did you choose the Red Room to exhibit your art?

Well, I’ve been with Red Room for six years and, being the master of cups, for that time, so I’ve been around. I have a very, very close connection with Roma, Manav and the other members of the Red Room community. They asked me if I wanted to show my art.

You mentioned you were involved in the community a lot, would you mind expanding a little on that. What is it about the Red Room that you feel is special or you feel nurtures your art? Six years is a long time to be with any community. What is it about the Red Room that made you want to stick around? Do you feel it has influenced your art?

Well, it started with Stage Time & Wine, that platform, and, for me, I just thought it was an amazing idea and I enjoyed being a part of that creative energy during Stage Time & Wine. I stuck around with Red Room because I believe in it. I think Red Room is one of the places, I’ve seen it, for artists who may not have their footing. They can come and share and gain their momentum and grow in confidence. For me, the influence comes from growing because I felt comfortable here. It’s a comfortable place. Red Room is also an outlet. At the Red Room I could come and visit my friends, and sort of hang out.

You said earlier Red Room was an outlet for you and a supportive community. Do you think that helped your confidence in your own art and, maybe, in that way influenced what you were creating?

That certainly could be. I certainly feel more confident with myself and it largely has to do with the community. Yes. Of course. I have a great example. A couple years ago I went back to Canada and while I was home I rediscovered Norval Morrisseau’s paintings and they inspired me. They brought out something in me. I returned to Taiwan and was scared to let this inspiration have full rein over me. I was scared to appropriate anything. I spoke with Roma about it and she could see how excited I was by what I had discovered, what was being brought out in me. Her advice was to let him be my guru, my teacher. She told me that if I embraced the spirit in all things that things that I could let Norval Morrisseau teach me.

When you’re inspired by another culture there’s always that question about which lines you can cross and which you can’t, so you always have to approach it with a level of sensitivity. So, how did you cultivate that sensitivity and how do you continue educating yourself to ensure you are being considerate of that?

That’s a huge, huge question and it’s always in the back of my mind. How [do I] do my own work and express myself while letting these influences come into my work? At the moment, it’s something that’s always there, but I’m trying really not to think about it and just to let it happen. I don’t know what I would do if, at some point, it caused a controversy or how I would answer that because I’m very aware of appropriation. I don’t want to appropriate.

I know that some way some people try to avoid appropriation or maintain sensitivity is by interacting with the communities they’re inspired by, speaking with them and learning their history. Would you say that’s something you’ve done diligently?

Yes. I’m continuing to do that. I actually just spent the weekend doing a workshop in an indigenous community in Hualien and I continue to collect literature and study. I’m not an anthropologist so I’m just reading and trying to take in these stories.

I’m curious, could you tell me a bit more about this workshop in Hualien?

I was giving a workshop on paintings and art in an indigenous community. We first did some hand-tracing and patterns as a warm up then we interacted a bit more. This was in partnership with a friend Amy Liu. She invites foreigners to come and do workshops in their specialty with the Indigenous children.

My sister passed away not too long ago. I think that’s also a way my paintings are the way they are. I think it could be her spirit influencing me; she’s definitely looking down on me. For me, some things I do are to honor her memory. This past weekend’s workshop fell on her birthday weekend 10/10 and I couldn’t think of a better place to be than there to honor her memory, a better thing than to work with those kids.

What is it about this workshop that was so fitting, do you think, to honor her memory? How involved was she with your art?

She wasn’t very involved with my art but she was always very, very supportive. I think, later in life, she was exploring her roots and I think that she would have been very touched that I was doing that.

So in making connections and helping others explore their own roots, you were honoring her?

Yes. I think she would have been very touched.

Charles Haines’ paintings will be on exhibit at the Red Room until the 31st. You can come and see, or purchase many of them any time the Red Room is open and most of them are for sale. Proceeds should be given to the Red Room and go to the artist.
If any viewers would like to talk about the paintings, or even just to meet and have a coffee at the Red Room, they can send Charles an e-mail at: murder.of.crows.10.5@gmail.com