Interviewed and Written by Nien-Cheng Wu and Qi-En Lin

Huang Fa-Cheng’s works mainly explores the interactions between people and their environment, often infused with humor by juxtaposing and collaging different elements, images, and themes. His pieces often feature actions like diving, dancing, and rock climbing. Through absurd and alienated imagery, he reflects on the dynamics and distances in human-environment relationships.This interview traces the artist’s creative journey since 2008, examining how the pandemic has shaped his artistic perspective and practice. It aims to shed light on the various phases of his work and the evolution of his artistic style over time.
 

─In your artist statement, you often mention "Xiao Ming" as a representative work. Could you share more about the thoughts and background behind creating "Xiao Ming" at that time?
 
“Xiao Ming Is Dead” was my first work centered on dark humor. Around 2007–2008, flat, cartoon-style art was very popular. I began with "Xiao Ming," a recurring figure in dark jokes, and gradually developed him into a full persona. During the creative process, I started to focus on the expressions of “figures.” For instance, incorporating the movement of running in a new context could evoke diverse interpretations. By reinterpreting these actions and infusing humor, I sought to create resonance with the audience. This fluid exploration of imagery, influenced by semiotics, has carried over into my later works, where characters are often depicted through specific performative actions and distinct figures.

─From the “Xiao Ming” character, how did you transition to caring for the environment?
 
In 2006, I took a course taught by artist Wu Mali in the Fine Arts Department at National Kaohsiung Normal University. Recognizing that I was from Chiayi, Wu invited me to join her 2006-2008 curatorial project, Art As Environment—A Cultural Action in Tropic of Cancer, Chiayi 2006. My role involved guiding project members on site visits, such as exploring the reuse of discarded oyster shells in Budai with British environmental artist David Haley. This experience introduced me to art forms that engage directly with communities and environments, while also revealing how much the coastline I remembered from childhood had changed. The decline of windbreak forests, along with the relocation of bunkers and wave-dissipating blocks from the shoreline to inner waters, deeply impacted me and led to profound reflections on environmental issues.
 
After completing my military service, I created “The Duel on Wave Breakers”, which won an Honorable Mention at the Kaohsiung Awards in 2011. This work marked my first formal exploration of environmental issues, while still featuring Xiao Ming and his absurd postures. By juxtaposing the man-made structure of wave breakers with Xiao Ming and appropriating traditional ink painting techniques, I tried to evoke the atmosphere of a martial arts scene. This is my way of reflecting on concrete wave breakers: while they are named for their ability to "dissipate waves," they actually accelerate coastal erosion in some situations.

Subsequently, I created works addressing rising sea levels, including the I Will Dive Here (2012) and the Between What series (2013). Coastal Highway 17 already sits below sea level. Aogu Wetland, once a small village in Budai, Chiayi, has been completely submerged, transforming into a wetland due to rising sea levels and land subsidence. Highway 17 has effectively become Taiwan's new coastline. These phenomena have profoundly shaped my creative approach.
 
The Diving series examines the dramatic transformations of natural landscapes, blending modern architecture with natural scenery within the artworks. However, environmental disasters often carry dual narratives: while human settlements may be destroyed, they can become habitats for wildlife. Beyond my creative practice, my engagement with environmental issues deepened in 2013 and 2014 through collaborations with the Citizen of Earth Foundation in exhibition planning and activism, including the Home: Environmental Art Exhibition and participation in anti-nuclear protests.

─What inspired you to incorporate ink painting, and how do you see its role in your work?
 
Starting with “The Duel on Wave Breakers,” I taught myself ink painting and used the Tsun brushwork[1] to depict wave breakers and rocks. I deliberately referred to painting manuals to transform ink painting into symbols. This work led to an invitation to participate in an ink painting exhibition, but I’m not sure if I can call myself an ink painter. I continued with my original creative ideas, but the tactile qualities and symbolic characteristics of ink painting aligned perfectly with my expressive needs. Later series such as Between What, Diving, and The Grand Air Drop also incorporated ink painting, combining brushwork techniques to depict mountains and rocks alongside the imagery of diving.
 
Ink painting embraces the idea that "one’s state of mind can enter the painting." Inspired by this, I wanted to try "letting people walk within the painting," so that they can actually experience the space in the artwork and become a part of it. The inherent ambiance of ink painting its spirit of harmony between humanity and nature, and its literati qualities are the main reasons why I chose to work with ink.
 
I used brush and water ink techniques to depict landscapes, combined with the flat, cartoon-like style of acrylic painting. This fusion of water ink and acrylic paint is seen in The Duel on Wave Breakers, and later in other series like Between What and The Grand Air Drop, creating a sense of contradiction in space, time, and the belonging era. I believe this approach holds great creative potential. Ink painting has gradually become a key element of my artistic vocabulary. I also try to introduce new techniques and forms of expression in each exhibition.

─Your works includes painting, installations, and often exhibitions in public spaces. How do you think about the relationship between these different forms, and what are you trying to convey?
 
In terms of creative expression, “The Grand Air Drop” (2014) was a critical work for me. It was not only an extension of painting but also an experiment of space. I transformed painting into spatial art, while maintaining the principle of focusing on painting within the space. Starting with a 2D presentation, I used flat surfaces to create 3D forms, inviting viewers to experience a raw, immersive depth that enhances the illusion of a mirage. These installations are composed of simple wooden panels that come together to form a cohesive image.
 
I used plywood and corner supports on the back of the installations, such as the mountain structure in “I Want to Swim Here” (2019), where both sides feature the same 2D paintings. By intentionally exposing the corner supports at the back, I introduced a sense of spatiality to the otherwise flat surface. These materials evoke an instant, flexible "collage-like" aesthetic, sharply contrasting with the enduring, naturally landscapes. I embrace the concept of "temporary structures," ensuring that my works do not look like permanent sculptures.
 
I used plywood and corner supports on the back of installations, such as the mountain structure in I Want to Swim Here (2019), where both sides feature identical 2D paintings. By intentionally exposing the corner supports, I introduced a sense of spatiality to the otherwise flat surface. These materials evoke a quick, flexible "collage-like" aesthetic, sharply contrasting with the enduring, naturally formed landscapes. I embrace the concept of "temporary structures," ensuring my works do not resemble permanent sculptures.

─Many of the works in the Distance from the Landscape solo exhibition depict the state of people within natural landscapes. Recently you’ve often been invited to exhibitions that explore the theme of “landscape.” Could you share the transitions between these series of works?
 
The initial inspiration came from the Diving and Between What series, and later, my focus gradually shifted back to experiences more closely related to daily life. Not everyone has experienced the impact of natural disasters, and I, too, lack firsthand experience. While working on the Citizen of Earth Foundation’s Home: Environmental Art Exhibition, I visited many petrochemical plants in Kaohsiung and became acutely aware of the many hidden dangers around us. Shortl after I created the first piece in the This City Thinks Too Positively series (2014–2016), the Kaohsiung gas explosions of 2014 occurred.

In This City Thinks Too Positively series, I painted many urban scenes where smoke carries ambiguous imagery, possibly symbolizing fire or incense burning. During an experience of riding my bike against the light, I decided to use glitter powder to recreate the shimmering, almost invisible air pollution, creating an elusive atmosphere. After I created these works related to air pollution, glitter powder became an important element in my paintings. This technique was also applied in the recent fake landscape pieces.
 
Natural disasters, in nature’s perspective, are merely routine fluctuations. For example, while people view typhoons as disasters, their cyclonic activity is simply part of the Earth's temperature regulation process. From breakers by the sea to retaining walls on the mountains, we human employ engineering solutions to slow down the natural weathering and erosion of the Earth's landscape, attempting to unilaterally stop what we perceive as a threats.
 
The Migration of Trees and The Realm of Perception are new attempts in this solo exhibition. The natural landscapes integrate a dialectical reflection between traditional landscape painting, scenery painting, and man-made environments. The Migration of Trees reinterprets observations of "trees" from everyday life using ink painting. From the deliberately pruned mushroom-shaped trees along the roads of Kaohsiung Cultural Center to the secondary forests in Taiwan's deep mountains, the once complex and rich natural forms have been transformed into something uniform and orderly. The vitality and natural gestures of the tress have been replaced by artificial rigidity and monotony.
 
The solo exhibition Distance from the Landscape presents works from 2017 to 2024. You emphasized how these works reflect your feelings about the surroundings and interpersonal relationships during the pandemic, such as maintaining social distance. What are some possible directions that you might continue to explore in the future?

In recent years, my works have shifted away from direct critiques of environmental issues or phenomena. During the pandemic, I created numerous apocalyptic scenes, including The Good Days Watching the Solar Eclipse, showcased in 2022 at the Kaohsiung Museum of Fine Arts as part of the Journey of Wild Fun exhibition. The fleeting unease I felt during the solar eclipse helped me understand humanity's fear in face of nature's grandeur, inspiring me to explore these haunting apocalyptic landscapes.

As my creative process deepens, I have gradually developed an approach of combining small paintings into a complete work, such as in “Grand Gathering” (2021) or works centered around the theme of "trees." Reassembled Meat (2022) explores the idea that while the world may appear to be pieced back together, it can never truly return to its former state. I sense that we are moving toward the apocalypse. In the past, I may have believed change was possible, but now my mindset is, "It is what it is; we will do what we can..." The world we live in seems like it could end at any moment. The sense of the unknown, fear, and anxiety about the apocalypse has become the theme of my new work, Daytime Blaze (2024).
 

Conclusion
 
Finally, Huang shared that in recent years, he has been focusing more on observing his surrounding environment. Beyond environmental issues like landslides and floods, the impact of the pandemic has gradually shifted his creative approach toward expressing his inner feelings. He reflects on humanity collectively enduring an extended disaster that, from the vast perspective of nature's scale, seems inconsequential.
 
"I no longer simply depict specific people, events, natural phenomena, or disasters. Instead, I integrate the interaction between characters and their surroundings, allowing the body and mind to roam freely in the creative process." Throughout this journey, Huang continues to experiment with different forms of expression, striving to explore ideal artistic representations. His reflections on Taiwan’s natural landscapes and their diverse forms have become a key focus of his recent work, incorporating man-made landscapes as part of his personal artistic vocabulary. As his creative journey progresses, he reflects on the cycles and transformations driven by nature's overdevelopment, reimagining traditional ink painting symbols in new ways.