EVERYTHING HAS ITS OWN SPIRIT AND RHYTHM: IN CONVERSATION WITH HSIN HWANG

I often collect symbols before painting, drawing inspiration from books, travel journals, and field research during residencies. These experiences allow me to gather visual and cultural fragments such asmotifs from folklore, rituals, and local beliefs that later reappear in my work in transformed ways. However, even though I begin with research and collected imagery, the act of painting remains intuitive. During the process, new symbols often emerge unexpectedly, as if guided by memory or emotion rather than logic. I see this balance between research and intuition as essential as it allows my work to carry both cultural depth and a sense of spiritual immediacy.

I’ve always been deeply drawn to ancient things. To stories, objects, and beliefs that carry the traces of time. When I was a child, I often interacted with Indigenous communities in Taiwan, and their rituals and way of seeing the world left a strong impression on me. From them, I learned to sense that everything: mountains, animals, even stones has its own spirit and rhythm. This way of perceiving the world feels very close to how I paint today: through empathy, intuition, and the belief that materials and symbols are alive. I think my attraction to these pre-modern and animistic perspectives comes from a longing to reconnect with that primal way of knowing, where imagination and faith were inseparable.

For me, red carries both passion and solitude. It is the color of the sun and of fire... an ancient, elemental color that feels alive. When I paint, red is more like an emotion than a symbol. My use of color, like my creative process, is deeply intuitive. I see color as something embodied, a temperature rather than a code. The material body of paint... its texture, density, and flow shapes how the work breathes. Through color, I try to express energy that is both spiritual and emotional. Color is not just visual, it carries emotion, memory, and breath. Through it, I try to connect body, spirit, and the act of making itself.

That installation is closely connected to my childhood memories. I grew up in the hills of Chiayi, surrounded by nature, Indigenous communities, and local rituals. Although I no longer live there, that landscape continues to shape me. It taught me about resilience, spirituality, and the quiet harmony between humans and nature. 'A Red Love Letter to My Home on a Hill' is exactly what its title suggests, a love letter to my homeland. The installation was my way of rebuilding an emotional space rather than a physical one, a place made of memory, color, and spirit. Through it, I tried to preserve the warmth of my childhood and express gratitude to the land that raised me.

Seeing 'Red House' within the context of 'Narratives of Identity' was a very special experience for me. The exhibition gathered artists from diverse cultural backgrounds, all reflecting on where they come from. Within that dialogue, my work became a bridge to Taiwan. Many viewers were curious about Chiayi, the small city where I grew up, and the cultural stories behind my imagery.It was also wonderful to see the work presented in the spacious environment of the Saatchi Gallery. The open layout allowed the installation to breathe. When 'Red House' was first shown at the RCA graduation exhibition, the space was much more crowded and the movement of visitors felt quite compressed. At Saatchi, the scale, light, and distance gave the work a new sense of quietness and presence. It finally felt like the house had room to exist on its own.

Jungian psychology has offered me a way to understand how images live within us, how they move between the personal and the collective. When I paint, I feel I am in quiet conversation with something deeper than myself, a space where emotion, memory, and archetype intertwine. For me, painting is a healing process. It allows emotions to surface slowly, through the rhythm of brushstrokes and layers of color. This process is not about escaping or resolving, but about observing and transforming what I feel. Through painting, I begin to recognize connections between my inner world and a wider human story. It becomes a way of listening, of giving form to what usually remains unspoken.

My work is often inspired by myths and goddess beliefs from different cultures. When I engage with these stories, I approach them with both respect and curiosity. I never try to reproduce the narratives literally; instead, I focus on the emotions, symbols, and spiritual connections that resonate across traditions. Whether drawn from Taiwanese folklore, Korean haenyeo divers, or other nature-based myths, I’m interested in how these narratives express women’s resilience and their relationship with nature. Through my practice, I translate these stories into my own visual language, where cultural boundaries become fluid and symbols from different worlds begin to communicate with one another. I also try to uncover the shared essence between cultures, their common dreams, fears, and rituals that remind us of our interconnection as human beings.

Fire often appears in my work, especially through the image of candles. I’m fascinated by candles because they hold both light and emotion, they burn gently, carrying warmth, prayer, and celebration at once. A candle can mean so many things: a birthday wish, a quiet hope, or a moment of farewell. For me, the flame becomes a symbol of blessing and transformation. It connects the everyday and the sacred, something fragile, yet full of spirit. Each time it reappears in my paintings, it takes a different form.

After my residency experiences in Foshan, China, and Busan, South Korea, I feel inspired to continue traveling and working in different places to explore local myths and cultural narratives. Each residency allows me to understand how belief and imagination are shaped by landscape and community. Next, I will return to Taiwan to begin new research in Tainan, focusing on the self- taught artist Hung Tung, whose visionary and intuitive approach deeply resonates with me. Through this project, I hope to continue expanding my exploration of mythology, spirituality, and the connection between art and place.