PRINTCatalogue Note:
Teh-Chun Chu’s abstract paintings are not just a frame for forms and colors, nor are they just a concerto of shades—they may depict the Earth’s liveliness, a circus of movements, the artist’s deep intellectual reflections, or nature’s emotional impact on Chu. Just as the renowned French commentator Pierre Cabanne once wrote, “Abstraction is not the ends, not even a means, but a process. Teh- Chun is not evading nature or rejecting nature’s realism. Rather, he’s expressing nature with a very sensational language that has always lingered in his mind.” (Cabanne, Pierre, “On Teh-Chung Chu,” Solo Exhibition of Chu Teh-chun, Taiwan Rubycon Co., Ueno Royal Museum, 2008, p. 58. Available in Chinese, French, and Japanese, but not English).
As a practitioner of western painting well immersed in Chinese culture, Teh-Chun Chu never limited himself to any single cultural framework. In 1955, he traveled to Europe’s capital of art, Paris, and delved into the essence of western art. In particular, he had a good grasp on making his abstract paintings colorful and rich in layers, characteristic of oil paintings. And yet, he did not forget to blend in such Chinese elements as calligraphy’s sense of tempo and depth. In this way, Chu has carved out a new dimension for western abstract art. Cosmology—or the idea of macrocosms—in the East is not limited to the inaccessible world of gods, nor does it say that humankind is placed higher in hierarchy than all other beings. Rather, human beings are treated as part of nature, and live in sync with their natural environment as well as all other organisms. This sort of macrocosmic view has influenced Chu’s attitude deeply. Therefore, in his creative career, Chu has always started the observation of the outer world from his inner vision, noting the natural rhythms and births and deaths from his heart. Then, with oil as his medium, he depicts humankind and the universe as one of the same kind. In 1997, Teh-Chun Chu became the first ethnic Chinese member of L’Institut de France in 250 years for his excellent achievements in art.
Since his first attempt at abstract painting in 1956, Teh-Chun Chu quickly developed his own artistic vocabulary. In the 1960s, he created paintings that parallel calligraphic art. Dense strokes dancing on a light background make a forceful and loud presence. In the 1970s, the artist practiced calligraphy diligently in his spare time, and yet, the strokes in the paintings are no longer as well-defined as those seen a decade ago, which were much more akin to written works. For example, in “Composition No. 535,” created in 1973, one sees delicate lines that merge themselves with the colors and shades instead of bold splashes of paint. But there is still a touch of calligraphy in this work as the lines seem quite emotional and energetic. This work also shows the artist’s new development in using oil paint. Under centuries of influence from Chinese scholars, depiction of the inner world has always been the key in Chinese ink wash. Thus, the use of colors has been reduced to only one—the variation in the load of ink in a single stroke is sufficient to make the five colors, “charred, dark, dry, wet, light,” and create interesting effects. Chu handles ink wash perfectly. In his 1960s works, not only did he apply ink generously as if he were writing, he also experimented with painting details using a single color, which was a new style and turned out to be quite elegant.
In his 1970 works, the overall tone was brighter, and colors dazzled in the dark background. In “Composition No. 535,” for example, the center to the lower half of the composition is in orange-red and black. And Chu diluted the oil paint so that it is no longer gluey, but washes through the canvas as does ink wash. Like the careful composition in the upper half, the light texture reminds the viewers of ink wash, making the painting intense and mysterious. In this way, the direct impact of his early abstract paintings has become the fury covered by colors, just like the invisible force behind such natural phenomena as water splashing, wind blowing, and things growing. Chu created relatively fewer works in the 1970s, making “Composition No. 535” particularly valuable.
In 1970, Chu saw the exhibition on Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn (1606-1669) at Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam, Netherlands. He was deeply attracted by how Rembrandt could trigger various emotions in the viewers just by his depiction of lights and shadows. As such, Chu started spending more time on mastering skills of portraying lights and shadows to veil his painting with a bit of mystery. In 1972, during his travels in Germany, he delved into the techniques of expressionism in Berlin. There, he was inspired to express his feelings more directly on the canvas. The unrestricted strokes in Chu’s precisely arranged composition become smooth and gorgeous, making these works more powerful. In “Composition No. 535,” the orange-red burns itself out from the darkness in the background. It can be likened to a burnt piece of iron, or to fire igniting from the earth’s core. On the other hand, the yellow, green, and blue in the upper portion are not as vibrant. These colors are painted much more lightly, carelessly drifting on the canvas. They are reminiscent of a tall mountain, a bit like lights striking down from above. With such cool colors as a contrast, the orange and the black seem more fervent. Colors seem to be energized whenever they are hit by shades, revealing both the enigmatic and the passionate. And slowly, time starts to pass in the picture as we become concentrated. As ice and fire dominate our sight alternatively, as the cold and the feverish tints accentuate each other, we see the entire universe move and sense the bond between the contrasting colors. Chu applies contrast in this painting superbly. The same smoothness runs in both strong and elegant colors, dramatically catching the moment of sunrise, and everything in the universe starts afresh. And thus we see, life’s glory exemplifies itself in a deep and reflective background. It is so fierce and thrilling, and as light and colors travel in the composition, one also sees the epiphany the artist experiences after his journey. It is exactly this sophistication adorning the magnificent that makes Teh-Chun Chu’s paintings so attractive.
As a practitioner of western painting well immersed in Chinese culture, Teh-Chun Chu never limited himself to any single cultural framework. In 1955, he traveled to Europe’s capital of art, Paris, and delved into the essence of western art. In particular, he had a good grasp on making his abstract paintings colorful and rich in layers, characteristic of oil paintings. And yet, he did not forget to blend in such Chinese elements as calligraphy’s sense of tempo and depth. In this way, Chu has carved out a new dimension for western abstract art. Cosmology—or the idea of macrocosms—in the East is not limited to the inaccessible world of gods, nor does it say that humankind is placed higher in hierarchy than all other beings. Rather, human beings are treated as part of nature, and live in sync with their natural environment as well as all other organisms. This sort of macrocosmic view has influenced Chu’s attitude deeply. Therefore, in his creative career, Chu has always started the observation of the outer world from his inner vision, noting the natural rhythms and births and deaths from his heart. Then, with oil as his medium, he depicts humankind and the universe as one of the same kind. In 1997, Teh-Chun Chu became the first ethnic Chinese member of L’Institut de France in 250 years for his excellent achievements in art.
Since his first attempt at abstract painting in 1956, Teh-Chun Chu quickly developed his own artistic vocabulary. In the 1960s, he created paintings that parallel calligraphic art. Dense strokes dancing on a light background make a forceful and loud presence. In the 1970s, the artist practiced calligraphy diligently in his spare time, and yet, the strokes in the paintings are no longer as well-defined as those seen a decade ago, which were much more akin to written works. For example, in “Composition No. 535,” created in 1973, one sees delicate lines that merge themselves with the colors and shades instead of bold splashes of paint. But there is still a touch of calligraphy in this work as the lines seem quite emotional and energetic. This work also shows the artist’s new development in using oil paint. Under centuries of influence from Chinese scholars, depiction of the inner world has always been the key in Chinese ink wash. Thus, the use of colors has been reduced to only one—the variation in the load of ink in a single stroke is sufficient to make the five colors, “charred, dark, dry, wet, light,” and create interesting effects. Chu handles ink wash perfectly. In his 1960s works, not only did he apply ink generously as if he were writing, he also experimented with painting details using a single color, which was a new style and turned out to be quite elegant.
In his 1970 works, the overall tone was brighter, and colors dazzled in the dark background. In “Composition No. 535,” for example, the center to the lower half of the composition is in orange-red and black. And Chu diluted the oil paint so that it is no longer gluey, but washes through the canvas as does ink wash. Like the careful composition in the upper half, the light texture reminds the viewers of ink wash, making the painting intense and mysterious. In this way, the direct impact of his early abstract paintings has become the fury covered by colors, just like the invisible force behind such natural phenomena as water splashing, wind blowing, and things growing. Chu created relatively fewer works in the 1970s, making “Composition No. 535” particularly valuable.
In 1970, Chu saw the exhibition on Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn (1606-1669) at Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam, Netherlands. He was deeply attracted by how Rembrandt could trigger various emotions in the viewers just by his depiction of lights and shadows. As such, Chu started spending more time on mastering skills of portraying lights and shadows to veil his painting with a bit of mystery. In 1972, during his travels in Germany, he delved into the techniques of expressionism in Berlin. There, he was inspired to express his feelings more directly on the canvas. The unrestricted strokes in Chu’s precisely arranged composition become smooth and gorgeous, making these works more powerful. In “Composition No. 535,” the orange-red burns itself out from the darkness in the background. It can be likened to a burnt piece of iron, or to fire igniting from the earth’s core. On the other hand, the yellow, green, and blue in the upper portion are not as vibrant. These colors are painted much more lightly, carelessly drifting on the canvas. They are reminiscent of a tall mountain, a bit like lights striking down from above. With such cool colors as a contrast, the orange and the black seem more fervent. Colors seem to be energized whenever they are hit by shades, revealing both the enigmatic and the passionate. And slowly, time starts to pass in the picture as we become concentrated. As ice and fire dominate our sight alternatively, as the cold and the feverish tints accentuate each other, we see the entire universe move and sense the bond between the contrasting colors. Chu applies contrast in this painting superbly. The same smoothness runs in both strong and elegant colors, dramatically catching the moment of sunrise, and everything in the universe starts afresh. And thus we see, life’s glory exemplifies itself in a deep and reflective background. It is so fierce and thrilling, and as light and colors travel in the composition, one also sees the epiphany the artist experiences after his journey. It is exactly this sophistication adorning the magnificent that makes Teh-Chun Chu’s paintings so attractive.