Hsieh Mu-Chi, born in 1981 in Taipei, Taiwan, graduated from the Graduate School of Fine Arts, TNUA. In recent years, his work has shifted its focus back to painting, and that his art can connect more deeply with the local environment and cultural context of Taiwan. For Hsieh, painting is not just a form of creation but also a continuous process of inquiry and exploration, as he searches for the role and representation of painting within contemporary Taiwanese culture.

Hsieh has received several prestigious awards and nominations, including the First Prize at the 2006 Taipei Art Awards, the 2022 CTBC Contemporary Painting Award, and a nomination for the 18th Taishin Arts Award in 2020. His work has been exhibited both domestically and internationally in Taiwan, South Korea, Japan, and the Philippines. He also participated in the Artist-in-Residence program at Thailand’s Silpakorn University in 2018 and the Goyang Art Studio in South Korea in 2015.

Can you tell us about your background and how you started your artistic journey?

I graduated from the Department of Fine Arts at the Taipei National University of the Arts and currently live and work in Taipei. My practice is primarily rooted in painting. I’ve always had an interest in drawing, sensing early on that it offered a way to express different facets of myself. However, it wasn’t until I entered university that I began to systematically understand art-making—learning not only about artistic creation but also about art history, theory, and various painting techniques.

Some of the painting classes in university gave me the freedom to develop my work without strict limitations. It was during those classes that I became deeply interested in painting and found a passion for it. I began to consider what subjects to paint, what techniques and forms to use, and from there, my exploration of the meaning of painting began. I became curious about how different styles and movements emerged and the historical and environmental conditions behind them.

After graduation, during the first few years out of school, I felt uncertain about the path of becoming a painter and took a break from making art. Ironically, this pause helped me realize how much I wanted to continue painting. I eventually came to understand that painting is my way of processing and making sense of both my internal world and the world around me. Art-making enriches my life and gives depth to my journey.

How do you stay inspired and motivated to create new work?

For me, inspiration comes from the accumulation and digestion of personal life experiences. It never arrives out of nowhere; instead, it reveals itself when the time is right. That’s why I make a point to visit exhibitions and read regularly—these habits often lead to unexpected discoveries that spark new ideas.

What I call “unexpected discoveries” are also part of training one’s ability to observe. By engaging with other people’s works and writings, I often encounter perspectives I hadn’t considered before. These encounters challenge my views on the boundaries between reality and art, and expand my imagination. At the core, I value quality of life and time spent alone in the studio. When I’m in a good mental and emotional state, I can fully immerse myself in painting. It’s important for me to stay focused on the people and things I love, and to let go of the rest. Not being entangled in the past gives me the strength to face the present.

How has your artistic style evolved over time?

At one point, I explored performance and video work as a way to question the role of the painter and the nature of painting itself. In recent years, however, my painting style has shifted toward composite landscapes and constructed scenes that examine the relationship between self, painting styles, and historical contexts.

Looking back, I wouldn’t say my style has ever been fixed, but a consistent thread does emerge—frequent use of visual deconstruction, collage, and recombination. I enjoy layering and juxtaposing imagery and paint to create scenes and spatial compositions. My process involves repeatedly covering and repainting on a single canvas until I feel the work is complete.

The content of my paintings has also shifted over time—from depicting fragments of daily life, to introspective investigations of painting itself, to explorations of temporality and local identity. If I were to describe the evolution of my style, I would compare it to learning how to speak through painting: first trying to speak, then speaking through painting, and finally reaching a stage where painting speaks for itself. This reflects my life’s trajectory—painting and my personal life are closely intertwined. The visual language always reveals different dimensions of being human.

Can you describe a recent project or artwork that you are particularly proud of?

In recent years, I’ve been referencing various styles of Taiwanese painting from the 19th century onward—landscapes, still lifes, and depictions of local culture—as source material. I love spending time with these older works. Their colors, textures, and brushwork often inspire me in unexpected ways.

One piece that exemplifies this approach is General at the Sea (2024). The “General” figure in my painting is inspired by The General (1964) by Taiwanese painter Lee Shih-Chiao. His original work is a satirical portrait that sits between abstraction and figuration. What drew me to it was not just its historical context or the artist’s intentions, but also my own imaginative response—seeing the General as a character I could insert into my own work. I imagined giving the General a break, letting him go to the beach and gaze out at the sea.

This approach doesn’t aim to directly engage with or respond to the original artwork’s historical framework, but rather to depart from it and focus purely on how its color and form resonate with me. My version, General at the Sea, becomes a kind of indirect dialogue with the original, establishing a new connection and narrative thread within my own body of work.

How do you see your work responding to current digital culture or the overload of visual information?

Digital culture and information overload are common conditions in our time. The creation and circulation of images have become incredibly easy and fast. For me, painting—a medium that relies so heavily on the hand—is a way to digest and respond to this flood of information. I sometimes mimic the logic or aesthetic traces of digital imagery in my painting, enriching the work’s visual language through this tension.

That said, I still draw a line between the two: digital references can be part of the work, but they are never the whole. It’s a bit like saying painting can depict anything, but not everything is painting. There’s a distinction, and I find value in maintaining it.

What advice would you give to emerging artists trying to establish themselves?

To me, the path of art-making is a long journey, full of challenges. Don’t let others dictate what kind of work you should make just to satisfy external expectations. Especially in the beginning, you may stumble upon a form or style that resonates with you, and it might stay with you for many years. If, later down the line, you’re able to break through that style and evolve, then you’ve truly leveled up. With time and perseverance, you could become a master in your field. Trust your intuition. Let it guide you forward as you explore the road of artistic creation.

Text & photo courtesy of Hsieh Mu-Chi

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