A decade of honing skills
Yang, who graduated from Chinese Culture University's Fine Arts Department in 1979, decided in his first year of university that he wanted to be an artist.
Thinking back on his youth, Yang says he was simply "hyperactive." He always talked in class and couldn't concentrate. He was often beaten by the teachers. He changed junior high schools several times, and only graduated from the night school division after six years.
Afterward, he entered a vocational school's arts department because he thought it would be easy. He wouldn't have to sit in a classroom every day-he could go out and do sketches. He was older and more mature than the others in his class, so he seemed smarter. He often represented the school in art competitions, and regained his confidence.
After graduating from Chinese Culture University, Yang watched as most of his classmates and friends got jobs and tried to eke out some extra time for art. He didn't want this for himself.
"I suppose I'm an unorganized, ineffectual person. I'm not suited for most jobs, and I don't believe I'd still have time to develop creatively after work," he says. With the help of his wife, who was one of his classmates, he decided to minimize his five-person family's expenses and use the extra time to work on his art.
Before 1986, he had economic problems. When he was short on money, he'd borrow from relatives. Finally, he'd borrowed all he could borrow and was heavily in debt, so he had no choice but to go out and sell things on the street. He went to Hong Kong and bought handmade accessories and images of gods of wealth and Buddhas made in Nepal. He'd take them to Nanking East Road in downtown Taipei every morning before 11, and close up at one in the afternoon.
"At the time, the Taipei stock market would close at 12 a.m., and there would be a lot of people out at noontime. People buying Buddha images often think of themselves as 'providing' for them and don't haggle over the price, so the profit margin was high. In three years, I made NT$3 million," says Yang. Selling on the street wasn't difficult-however, being over 30 and having to run from the police was an indignity. Also, the basic requirement for artistic creation is free time. "You need so much time that you can waste it on a whim," he says, so you can think about this and that or just stare into space. Now he was spending time ordering and setting out merchandise, the opposite of what he wanted to be doing. He decided to go home and dedicate himself to painting.
In the 1990s, the contemporary art market was not flourishing in Taiwan and there were few outlets for younger artists to exhibit in. Yang spent all his time working. He painted two or three hundred large-scale pieces.
Yang is not an antisocial artist. To give like-minded individuals a place to meet, in 1982 he invited fellow Chinese Culture University fine arts graduates, including Wu Tien-chang, Lu Hsien-ming, and Lu Yi-chung, to form the 101 Modern Art Group. When there got to be too many members (there were 30) and the quality of their work was uneven, he helped establish the Taipei Modern Painting Group in 1984.
They advocated art that reflected the times, and they were young and daring. Their works made brave points on politics, history, and ethnicity. Their air and their mission was of the engaged intellectual. These young artists rode society's raging tides to become today's leading contemporary Taiwanese artists.
"It was tough in those days. It took two or three years on average to scrape together enough to put on an exhibition. Work didn't get enough exposure and nobody knew who you were," he says. The groups were nothing more than a way of getting more chances to exhibit and sharing costs.
In 1991, Yang took a prize in the first Hsiung-Shih Art Creation Awards and finally won public recognition. In 1995, he signed a representation deal with the Lin and Keng Gallery and he's had a solo or group exhibition almost every year since. He finally had the chance to show the fruits of his long, lonely labor, and when he went out and met people he felt he had an identity to be proud of-artist.
Yang's latest stainless steel sculpture, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, weighs 300 kilograms.