Commentary: A Palace Museum without a `Palace'?

By Lo Ch'ing

In the late 19th century, feudal China was smashed by Western industrial imperialism into myriad pieces like a shattered mirror. A new China, or rather many new Chinas, were born when these fragments were scattered all over the world, each reflecting images of Chinese art and culture - both relevant and irrelevant, at once united and independent. Chinese intellectuals and artists have a new Weltanschauung: sinocentric conceptions and the ancient mythological world have given way to a comprehensive global view and a scientific solar system. The Chinese intellectual migration can be traced back to the period following the Opium War, when the centres of Chinese civilization gradually shifted from the Jiangnan region to the coastal cities of Tianjin, Shanghai and Guangzhou. By the mid-20th century, the tide was headed towards the Pacific Ocean and the rest of the world. Chinese intellectuals not only gathered in Hong Kong and Taiwan but also settled in major cities around the world. In Taiwan, the phenomenon climaxed with the re-establishment of Kuomintang (KMT) power outside the mainland. For the first time in Chinese history, a cultural milieu, with strong influences from Japan and the West, had been formed in a peripheral region with an insular, ocean-oriented and pluralistic environment. On the mainland, a parallel transformation took place when `Communism with a Chinese Touch' was implemented. In both places, Chinese culture has demonstrated miraculous adaptability in the face of technological, cultural and political revolutions. If the military forces and equipment which were moved to Taiwan in the 1950s guarantee the legitimacy and continuity of the KMT government, then the collection of the Palace Museum was symbolic assurance and concrete evidence of the orthodoxy and validity of a transplanted cultural power. Careful preservation and conservation of the imperial collection was therefore vital to the reconfirmation of legitimacy by a military power that claimed to be the only true and lawful central government of China. This was the spirit in which the National Palace Museum was administered during the 1960s. In 1965,the collection of treasures from the mainland, transported with great hardship and peril during and after the Sino-Japanese War, was moved from its temporary hideout in the caves of Taichung to a `pseudo-palace' in the suburbs of Taipei for regular exhibition. While the mainland witnessed the Cultural Revolution, which advocated the destruction of political and cultural values from the past, the National Palace Museum functioned not only as a symbol of this past but also as a pledge for a Chinese cultural renaissance. In 2000, the people of Taiwan elected a President from one of the major opposition parties for the first time - an open manifestation of the search for political independence which anticipates the complete severance of existing relationships with the mainland. Attempts have been made to establish a regional identity with an arbitrarily contrived national ideology. Radicals descended from immigrants who arrived before the 1950s claim the right to drive `new' immigrants into the Taiwan Straits. With the practice of paying homage to `Great Old China' coming to an end, the new political situation has presented the director of the National Palace Museum with a dilemma: should he follow the inherited course or should the museum be run on the new ideological principles? This is a pressing issue faced by the new director, whose appointment, like that of his predecessors, is a political one. The reality is that it is impossible to completely separate cultural and political power, whether it comes from an imperial court or a democratic government, a royal palace or a presidential hall. The present relationship between the two is not unlike a formal marriage. What the new director can do is to find some common ground and transform it into an informal cohabitation or liaison. He must be given room to do what he thinks is academically proper according to his `professional' judgement. In the meantime, the new government must think positively about the imperial collection - not as a debt or an obstacle, but rather as an asset with creative potential. There are three points which have to be addressed:

1. The new government must recognize that the imperial collection provides the intellectual in Taiwan, whether immigrant or locally born, with an opportunity to study and reinterpet the artistic heritage and wisdom of the past. The construction of a genuine regional identity can only be achieved through first, a profound understanding of Taiwan's past, and then a powerful and innovative reinterpretation of its tradition which has been so deeply rooted in the mainland. We have to remember one thing well: the achievement and wisdom of Chinese culture is not private property and is not exclusive to the people of mainland China, let alone the Chinese communist government. It is a heritage that the whole world has the right to study, to learn and to benefit from. The new government of Taiwan cannot deny the people of Taiwan the right to immerse themselves in Chinese culture as much as that of the Greeks or the Japanese. 2. The Taipei collection is of international importance in its own right. In many respects, it is a monumental and irreplaceable landmark of human civilization. The conservation and exhibition of these treasures must be accompanied by new insights, fresh discourse and interpretations. How to form innovative and powerful arguments from an oceanic point of view and to situate the collections properly within the new political and cultural context between Taiwan and the mainland in the 21st century have become a great challenge for the new government, the museum and young Taiwanese intellectuals. Both the government and the museum must accept this priceless collection as a blessed gift, a great honour, and a serious responsibility. The ridiculous suggestion that the collection be returned to Beijing should be dismissed as nothing more than a poor joke. The government and the museum, nevertheless, must think positively. Proposals for joint exhibitions with Beijing's Palace Museum will demonstrate the academic performance as well as the interpretative power of Taiwan.

3. There are many ways to address the question of whether new wings should be added to the museum's exhibition space to house future collections of Taiwan aboriginal and Han immigrant cultures. It can be solved separately or jointly, with or without the National Palace Museum - this will ultimately be a decision for the new director to make. However, the existing exhibition space of `Tradition and Innovation' in the museum's left wing must be considerably strengthened and reinforced since the Chinese tradition is one of the most developed art forms in human history. How new life is to be derived from age-old art traditions is perhaps one of the most important challenges for the new director. He must envisage how exhibits with different approaches accompanied by regional features and arguments can inspire the people of Taiwan as well as overseas visitors, Chinese or non-Chinese from all over the world.

By offering an insular view of democratic multiplicity, Taiwan is a place that allows the Chinese intellectual to investigate, re-examine and reinterpret Chinese culture outside China proper. At various times in the last 3,000 years, political China has been both united and divided. Cultural China has, however, always been able to transcend the political differences. After the 1950s, two political and cultural entities emerged: one, continental, and the other, oceanic. For a long time, there seemed to be no communication channels and no common areas for both sides to approach each other. 55 years have passed, and seemingly eternal political barriers have all but vanished into the ashes of history. However, the cream of Chinese art and culture remains and is well received on both sides of the Taiwan Straits. Truly profound artistic achievement has the power to transform and transcend political and personal concerns. As long as the genuine passion felt and expressed can be equalled with original technical perfection and matched with penetrating artistic creativity, the extrinsic cause of initiating a work of art, whether political or personal, will soon be forgotten. This is what a museum should be about: it should remind us how cultural power can prevail through the long, dark corridor of history by enlightening us and giving us hope for the future.