Lin Yu-shan Old Master of Ink Wash

In 1930, the 23-year-old Lin Yu-shan spent a night in a thatched hut beside a lotus pool being eaten alive by mosquitoes, in order to experience the marvel of lotuses blossoming at dawn.

Keeping Lotus Pool in Taiwan

In the cool mist of the early morning, the lotuses opened up one after another. "It was almost as if you could hear them bloom," Lin recalls. Lin went home and then borrowed a large space in a friend's yard. He rolled out some silk fabric, knelt down, and started painting, one stroke at a time. For the background he mixed in over 30 bags of gold powder in order to convey the golden light of dawn. On the pond he painted azure lotuses with their red blooms just beginning to unfold, with an egret wading and searching for food. Yu gave the soft tranquility of the lotus pool a colorful vitality.

Lotus Pool, a gouache painting, was selected for the fourth Taiwan Exhibition, where it was awarded a prize as a particularly outstanding work. The following year, in order to help Lin Yu-shan go to Japan for a second time to study painting, a hometown friend who was working at his own father's pharmacy paid the high price of ¥150 for the work-enough to cover most families' living expenses for a year.

By 2000 seven decades had passed, and the friend who bought Lotus Pond had already passed away. The painting was in the hands of his grandchildren, who were willing to sell it to the Taiwan Museum of Art for NT$18 million. But the museum only had NT$15 million available, so a fund-raising campaign was launched to pool private money to acquire the painting. After two fundraisers, they had succeeded in amassing NT$3 million, and the masterpiece was added to the museum's collection. This was the first time the ROC government had worked with the private sector to keep a Taiwanese cultural asset in the land where it was created. Apart from representing a major victory for art in Taiwan, the outcome conveys the high esteem in which people hold Lin Yu-shan.

Art on Beauty Street

In 1907, a few years before the founding of the Republic of China, Lin Yu-shan (originally Lin Ying-kuei) was born in a house on Beauty Street in Chiayi. During the Japanese era, Beauty Street was where the city's framing shops were clustered. All manner of folk paintings used for celebratory and ceremonial occasions, as well as works by famous local artists, could be found on the walls of these shops on any given day. For all the exposure to art that they provided, they might as well have been galleries.

Lin Yu-shan's father Lin Erh owned a framing shop called Fengya Hsuan ("The Elegant Studio"). One of Yu-shan's older brothers became a carver, and one of his younger brothers studied Western painting. Yu-shan thus grew up in a milieu that brought his natural artistic talent to the fore.

Tsai Chen-hsiang, an artist under Lin's father's employ, noticed how Yu-shan, though not yet ten years old, would watch with great interest as Tsai painted, and so he diligently began to teach the youngster how to sketch, dye, prepare pigments and mix colors. Yu-shan would render the Heavenly Holy Mother, General Kuan-yu, the Bodhi-sattva Avolokiteshvara and other popular Daoist and Buddhist deities time and again. The constant practice would lay down strong foundations for his brush techniques.

In order to create pigments, Lin Yu-shan would go with his "old master" Tsai to Chinese apothecaries, hardware stores, and cosmetics shops to purchase such items as cinnabar, verdigris, and facial powder. They would then grind and mix these materials into pigments for painting. Lin worked hard to learn and remember everything, and the experience with making pigments no doubt contributed to his sharp sense of color. When Lin was ten, the two painters that worked for his father's shop quit one after the other, and the young Yu-shan, working in the shop after school let out, took on many of their responsibilities.

"Taiwan-style" ink wash

When he was 15 years old, Lin studied painting with the Japanese painter Isaka Kyokko, who was a sinologist and painter of the "southern school," a style of Japanese painting heavily influenced by the Chinese wenren paintings of the amateur literati. The style emphasized combining poetry, calligraphy and painting.

With his introduction to the techniques of art by a commercial Taiwanese folk painter, further tutelage under Isaka Kyokko, and later exposure to poetry societies that he attended, Lin's foundations as a painter were tied closely to traditional Chinese painting. This made him very different from his fellow painters of the era of Japanese rule, whose art was overwhelmingly rooted in Western techniques.

During the period that Lin was studying with Isaka Kyokko, a distant relative and painter named Chen Cheng-po returned home to teach after studying art in Japan. Chen loved to sketch from nature, and Lin and Chen would wander about drawing together. Chen introduced Lin to Western sketching and watercolor techniques.

Lin was a quiet and serious youth, and he much enjoyed walking out to the suburbs to observe the cows and the sparrows. The white and bright moon in the middle of the night, water dripping from bamboo leaves after a thundershower, a hawk in a bamboo grove in the early morning. . . such scenes all moved Lin immensely. When something caught his fancy, Lin would pick up his sketchbook and try to convey the living spirit of the natural world.

"I don't draw things' outer appearance when I sketch, but rather I try to capture a kind of aura, so that flowers convey their sweet fragrance, and the moon can actually generate light," says Lin, who has a soulful connection with nature and a deep intuitive understanding of how to draw from nature. These qualities led him to reject the conservative methods of traditional Chinese ink wash painting, where one would work by studying a painting in an attempt to emulate the qualities of one's teacher. Feeling the importance of sketching from nature, Lin went to Tokyo, to study Western painting at the Kawabata Painting School there.

A gentle youth

As a Western painting major at Kawabata, Lin studied oil painting, watercolors and gouache painting, but he also took courses in Japanese painting to get a basic grounding in that field. He discovered that what they were teaching in Japanese painting was quite similar to what he had learned previously. It just so happened that while Lin was in Japan, a Tokyo museum held a large-scale exhibition of Chinese and Japanese fine arts. At that exhibition Lin viewed masterpieces by important traditional Chinese ink wash painters, such as Chi Baishi, Wu Changshuo and Xu Beiheng. After viewing the exhibition a few times, he recalls that he began to feel more and more that oriental painting, with its reserved style and lasting appeal, better suited him. He switched his major to Japanese painting.

In 1927 the Taiwan Exhibition was held for the first time. Lin Yu-shan took advantage of a summer vacation to return to Taiwan and draw from nature. In Water Buffalo Lin captured a cow's affection for her calf. He submitted that work along with Big Southern Gate to the exhibition's selection committee, and both were accepted.

The oriental painting section featured 30 works done by 25 artists, the majority of whom were Japanese. The selection criteria encouraged the creation of new styles, but Taiwanese ink wash painters were by and large traditionalists. As a result only three-Chen Chin, Lin Yu-shan and Kuo Hsueh-hu-were represented. All were only 18 or 19 years old, and they became known as the "three youths of the Taiwan Exhibition."

Three youths of the exhibition

Among them, Lin would not only have his works selected for ten Taiwan Exhibitions in a row, but he would also win the top prize at the fourth Taiwan Exhibition for Lotus Pool, second place at the sixth for Sugar Cane, and first prize again at the seventh exhibition for Sunset. Moreover, as a result of his accomplishments, beginning with the eighth exhibition he was granted the privilege of entering the final stage of competition directly. From viewing the works that Lin Yu-shan exhibited at the Taiwan Exhibition, you discover that Lin was not by then taking his cues from Taiwan's folk artists. At a young age, he had already successfully and seamlessly combined Western art techniques with the traditional methods of Chinese ink wash painting.

With his selection to the first Taiwan Exhibition, Lin was suddenly famous. He became a leader in the Chiayi art scene and was a lively member of the area's many art societies.

Among the wealthy families of the Chiayi area were many art enthusiasts who admired Lin's double talents with poetry and painting. They formed an arts support group, and every time a work of his was selected for the Taiwan Exhibition, everyone would gather together and celebrate. In 1934, when Lin was preparing to study in Japan for a second time, the support group organized a special exhibition. Afterwards, they drew lots to determine who would buy which of Lin's exhibited paintings. The principal purpose was to raise money for Lin's tuition. "Back then people of culture would really take care of each other," says Lin nostalgically. He still feels deep gratitude for the help those friends provided. The support group lasted for nearly ten years, before the war caused it to disband.

The rivers of ink wash converge

Before and during the war, times were hard, and it was impossible to make a living as a serious painter of original works. During this period, Lin, who already had five children, began working as an illustrator for newspapers and publishing houses. His drawings appeared in Yang Mu's translations into the vernacular of the classics Romance of the Three Kingdoms and Journey to the West, and after the war in youth-oriented periodicals such as Eastern Youth and Classmate. Although his work as an illustrator was done out of necessity, Lin approached the task with care and diligence. "I would thoroughly research the clothing, beds, chairs and whatnot of the period, so as not to be ridiculed for making a mistake," says Lin, leafing through some of those old, now-yellowed illustrations.

In 1949, when the ROC government fled to Taiwan, Fu Hsin-yu, Huang Chun-pi, Chang Ta-chien, Fu Chuan-fu, Kao Yi-hung and other major Chinese ink wash painters arrived in Taiwan one after another. They were masters not only of the traditional Chinese ink wash style, but also of the new style that incorporated Western techniques. They brought a wave of innovation to Taiwanese ink wash painting. Lin had always wanted to receive instruction from the great Chinese masters, and when so many came to Taiwan, it was as if his prayers had been answered. He could now meet and exchange ideas with Chinese ink wash painters of every school. Lin moved to Taipei, which was the center of the art scene. First he served as the director of art at Blessed Imelda's School, before getting a teacher's post in 1953 at Taiwan Teachers College on the strength of a recommendation from Huang Chun-pi. From foundations rooted in drawing from nature, he expanded upon the traditions of Chinese ink wash painting. Educating many talented youths, he had a major impact on the development of art in Taiwan.

From the traditional Chinese gongbi style emphasizing detail and realism, Lin's painting evolved into a new style that employed interesting variations in brushstrokes and use of ink. His paintings began to include oblique brushstrokes that he had never used before: pianfeng, nifeng, and a bold style in which he pressed the brush to make a broader line. His works showed increasing freedom of technique. Particularly when rendering beasts, his skills were unequaled.

Huang Chun-pi, a master of Chinese painting, once complimented Lin thus: "When it comes to painting wildlife, Lin Yu-shan works harder than any of his contemporaries." Indeed, in order to draw wildlife, Lin would walk high up into the mountains at different times of year in order to observe wildlife, including many rare animals such as the Formosan ring-necked pheasant, the Mikado pheasant, Swinhoe's blue pheasant, the Formosan rock-monkey, the Formosan sika deer, and the clouded leopard. And Lin was regarded as second to none for his renderings of tigers, which captured both their spirit and postures in unique ways.

When he was in elementary school and saw a tiger for the first time at the circus, Lin discovered that real tigers were quite unlike the unfired clay figurines he saw at the temples. He went back to the circus day after day to observe them carefully and draw them. Lin explains that an angry tiger, before opening his mouth, emits a low growl that slowly turns into a thunderous roar. The eyes of the tiger that Lin depicted in Not Yet Roaring hold a killer's glare. Though not yet showing his teeth, he certainly can make people tremble with fear.

Lin also painted Grandma Tiger, which produced a revisionist verdict on the old tiger of Chinese fable that would eat children's fingers. Lin said that people were tricking children with a tale about how terrible the tiger was. Since the tiger couldn't speak in its own defense, Lin portrayed the beast going to a temple and making an offering for peace of mind. It's really very cute.

Painting his homeland

Apart from tigers, the beasts that appear most often in Lin's works are water buffalos and sparrows. His 1944 painting On the Way Home shows an old water buffalo, drawn with such precision that you can see its individual hairs. Leading it home is an old farming woman, who is carrying a bundle of sugar cane and wearing leggings and a broad rimmed hat with a covering scarf knotted under her chin. The simple and rustic scene does a good job of conveying Taiwan's slow pace of life in those days.

In 1954, when many of the recently arrived mainlanders were disparaging Taiwanese painting as simply a form of Japanese painting, the always reserved and modest Lin Yu-shan felt compelled to announce his thoughts on the issue. He argued that since ancient times every place and every era had a style of painting uniquely its own. Chinese painting in Taiwan was a legacy passed down from the islanders' Han Chinese ancestors. But because the place had so much contact with outside cultures, Lin explained, the style of painting changed. The Japanese called it wan-sei (the Taiwanese style) to distinguish it from Japanese painting proper.

"If you nurture these Taiwanese painters, then you needn't fear-they will in time soar to great heights. Don't harden your heart and rip up these sprouts of hope." Now, half a century later, Lin Yu-shan's words still resonate powerfully.

Wherever the wind took him

Lin, who loves to draw from nature, began traveling overseas in the 1970s. He went to Thailand, Vietnam, Nepal, Hawaii, the United States, Switzerland and elsewhere. Wherever he went, the scenery and the spirit of the local people moved him. Inspired by his travels, he created many works during this period that convey exoticism. Blessed with good health well into his 90s, Lin has not stopped working. He has had two solo exhibitions since he turned 90, both of which have included works that he has produced in the last few years.

Since selling works in his youth to raise money to study in Japan, he has hardly sold any paintings. But shortly before the people rallied together to buy Lotus Pool, Lin quietly donated three of his old gouache masterpieces to the Taipei Fine Arts Museum, Taiwan Museum of Art, and Kaohsiung Museum of Fine Art. "This is just another way that father shows his love for painting," says Lin Po-ting, Lin's second son and deputy director of the National Palace Museum.

Knowing his paintings would forever be cared for properly at the museums, Lin has parted with them without any sorrow. But he often worries about those paintings of his whose whereabouts are now unknown. Lin recalls that he once had a painting of deer at Songshan Airport that was one story high and about four meters long. "Today, I don't know what has become of it," he says. "It makes me very sad." When talking about the paintings that got away, Lin sounds like a parent describing a dear child who has been away from home for many years.

Lin Yu-shan was named after Yushan (Jade Mountain), which is Taiwan's highest peak. The name is fitting. As someone who has left for posterity some of the greatest Taiwanese works of art created during the Japanese era, who went deep into the mountain forests to observe the island's rare animals, and who has spent a lifetime exploring the nuances of ink wash painting, Lin can be properly regarded as a lofty personage forever conveying the highest beauty of Taiwan.

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Amid the red lotus blossoms, egrets with bent heads search for food. In the dim light of the early morning, the lotuses bloom in Lotus Pond. The work made quite a splash after Lin created it at the age of 23. (courtesy of the Taiwan Museum of Art)

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(left) Lin Yu-shan, an elder in the Taiwan arts community, is a figure too important to overlook when discussing the development of the fine arts on the island. The Council for Cultural Affairs and Hsiungshih Art co-published a book that bears witness to his significance.

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(right) Famous at first try, the 19-year-old Lin had his work Water Buffalo accepted into the first Taiwan Exhibition. Lin, Chen Chin and Kuo Hsueh-hu became known as the "three youths" of the Taiwan Exhibition.

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With its strong lines and heavy bleeding of paints, Two Head of Cattle shows the down-home spirit of southern Taiwan. (courtesy of the Taipei Fine Arts Museum)

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A great lover of animals and of drawing from nature, Lin captured beautifully naturalistic images of rare Taiwanese animals. Colorful Wings Welcome the Wind shows Formosan ring-necked pheasants taking to flight. (courtesy of Hsiungshih Art)

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Lin was particularly fond of tigers. His kind rendering of Grandma Tiger displays his innocence and broadmindedness.

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(facing page) During a great flood, when everyone else was busy escaping, Lin Yu-shan took time out to save a drowning sparrow, which he would later immortalize in Ode to a Sparrow.

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Like Jade Mountain, for which he is named, Lin Yu-shan seems forever young. At 96, Lin is still in good health, with an unassuming and cultured persona that is widely admired among the younger generations. (photo by Pu Hua-chih)