When East and West Collide

Although I have always felt that I was destined for a career in science, in my final year of high school, I finally succumbed to my yearning to take a studio art class. It was here, leaning over a hot pot of wax that the glorious colors of batik burst into my previously black and white world. Since then, I have used many other media to express myself and the environment around me. After four years however, I have never lost my partiality for batiks - the first born, the first teacher, the first real view of my soul.

A batik stands out from other works of art through the functions that it serves. Whether it hangs on the wall, covers furniture, or drapes around my body, batiks are in constant contact with my daily life. Unlike sculptures or paintings, batiks can be touched, folded, sewn, tied and washed. Thus, they do not lie idle, but instead lead active lives though their relationship with me. There is nothing that gives me a greater sense of pride and confidence than wearing one of my creations outside, a perpetual reminder of who I am and what I can do.

Immersion into foreign cultures provides an even more drastic and shocking reminder of myself. Like a fish out of water, it is when I am out of my element that I realize what kind of creature I am. In Italy this past year, I was constantly reminded of my Chinese features and continuously forced to define myself and my identity to others around me. The batiks I made in this unfamiliar land were extensions of myself and exposed this inner battle between East and West.
My first assignment as a student in Italy was a self-portrait – a particularly traumatizing experience which forced me to confront my Asian features and furthermore impress them onto silk. On my next self-portrait, I delved beneath the skin to look even more closely at who I really am. Thus, I started to paint myself as a tiger - the animal of my Chinese horoscope. When the opportunity presented itself however, I added elements of the water - symbols of my Western zodiac sign. The end result was a very confused girl. Was she the fierce and solemn lady of the land, or the romantic, dreamy-eyed queen of the sea?

Deciding that my path was to the West, I set about creating another batik, this time as the

 Pisces I wanted to be. Somehow my road diverged once more however, and I painted myself holding an enchanted globe containing the image of a tiger, my only view from the watery depths to the land above. As the age-old adage asserts, art is the window to the soul, and along with the discovery of myself as an artist, came the exposure of this buried Chinese aspect of my heritage.

This past year, I created and experienced art in both Europe and Asia, further establishing and splitting my roots between East and West. After a summer at the Cholamandal Artists’ Village in Chenni, India, a school year in the art schools of Italy and finally, an internship at the Art Research Center for the Olympic Games in Beijing China, I have come to realize that there are no national divides in the realm of art. Its ideas and techniques have sailed oceans, crossed mountains and leaped over cliffs to merge with and influence what was already there. Thus, I no longer feel a need to choose between East and West. Although my tag may say “made in Taiwan,” I am still a product of the American spirit which has made me who I am.

During my year as a Watson Fellow, I will trace the journey that batiks and their creators have taken to see how they have changed and influenced one another. Starting with a blank canvas of unlimited possibilities I will find my way to the end, taking the detours as they come and paving new ones along the way. What I find there will be a reflection of the diverse cultures I will meet and a new and improved version of myself.