Irenebrination: Notes on Architecture, Art, Fashion, Fashion Law, Science & Technology

Benevolent Monsters or Scary Masks?

It's Halloween, and the world is teeming with monsters, but, sometimes, as you stroll down the street, you come across some of the more benevolent kind. These creatures, believe it or not, transform into talismans, like the dragon head playfully peeking out from a restaurant sign in Taipei.

Because of its stern gaze, this grumpy dragon may appear a tad cross with passersby, but it is actually rather cute. However, keep your eyes peeled for a subtle horror reference in the second picture, on the far right you can spot a small Scream mask hanging outside the shop. Not sure about you, but I prefer friendly monsters to frightening masks... 

Pondering about the Coexistence of the Sacred and the Secular at Ciyou Temple, Taipei

In yesterday's short post about Bangka Jiyi Temple we looked at sacred architectures contrasting with modern buildings in Taipei.

Let's continue the thread pondering about other types of contrasts and juxtapositions that may inspire us, through a night visit to Songshan's Ciyou Temple.

Legend has it that this temple owes its existence to a wandering Taoist monk who arrived in the area during the 1740s.

Carrying a gilded image of Mazu, the goddess of the sea, the monk met a group of devoted Mazu followers. Together, they embarked on a decade-long endeavor, raising the necessary funds to construct a temple that would pay homage to the goddess.

The construction of the temple started in 1753, reaching its completion in 1757. Initially, the shrine faced the waterfront, where the goddess was believed to watch over fishermen and sailors.

Today, the temple graces the street, serving as a welcoming sight for anyone emerging from Songshan MRT station, and conveniently situated near the lively and bustling Raohe Night Market.

Ciyou Temple boasts a striking triple-tiered roof, a masterpiece of artistry, adorned with intricate sculptures, including several dragons, two of them facing three immortals, symbolizing wealth, happiness, and longevity, and numerous other auspicious figurines, such as the phoenix and characters from historical tales.

Soaring to six floors, the temple is renowned throughout Taiwan for its meticulous design and attention to detail: its construction reveals remarkable stonework, octagonal plafond ceilings, and richly ornamented elements and statues.

The temple's main hall accommodates a staggering 100 different deities. Upon entering the temple's interior, one encounters rows of oil lamps, each illuminated by devoted worshippers, symbolizing their hopes for Mazu's benevolence.

To the right of the Mazu image, a side altar venerates the Earth God, flanked by flag-bearing Tiger Lords. On the left, another side altar is dedicated to Zhusheng Niang-niang, the Goddess of Birth.

This particular temple pays homage to her with 13 female aides instead of the usual 12. The additional aide, Duyu Niang, earned her divine status for her selflessness as a midwife, providing care without accepting payment.

The main shrine room within the temple is a spacious hub, often crowded with people engaged in prayers, religious rituals and chanting ceremonies, as was the case during my visit.

Ciyou Temple opens its doors early in the morning, at 5.30am, and remains accessible until 10.30pm, so there's plenty of time to see it, but a night visit may allow you to stop also at the nearby market.

And this is when you can experience a contrast between the sacred and the profane: in the early evening, devotion, prayers, and spiritual connection mingle with the chaotic atmosphere of the street outside the temple and the nearby market, almost to remind visitors that, amidst the hustle and bustle, there is always time for contemplation, for connecting with something greater, and for seeking solace in prayer. 

In this vibrant juxtaposition, one can't help but be entranced by the multifaceted expressions of humanity: you stop for a while listening to the devotees chanting as incense fills the halls of the temple, while outside the aromatic symphony of the market and the food stalls fill the air with very different smells.

Both these scenes remain celebrations of life, testament to the coexistence of the sacred and the secular, a reminder that life is a mosaic of encounters, occurrences and circumstances, and the key lies in embracing the full spectrum of experiences, from the reverent to the carefree, from the introspective to the exuberant.

Spotting Ornate Ceilings, Sacred Carvings & Intricate Artistry on a Stroll along Kangding Road, Taipei

In yesterday's post, we explored the historical charm of Taipei's Bopiliao Historic Block to spot architectural and symbolic inspirations. Now, let's continue our exploration within the Wanhua District by strolling down Kangding Road.

Taipei is a city of stark contrasts, where the juxtaposition of old and new buildings can be witnessed along the same street.

Yet, another striking dichotomy often emerges - the harmonious coexistence of modern architecture and venerable temples. One such temple, Bangka Jiyi Temple, stands as a great example of this juxtaposition.

Nestled amidst contemporary and older buildings, it boasts an intriguing presence. Not far from the temple, a tall modern building graces the skyline, forming a striking contrast with the temple's traditional aesthetics.

Though less renowned than some of its counterparts that we may explore in future posts, this Taoist temple does not lack in opulence. It is lavishly decorated with intricate and vibrant artwork, including carvings and sculptures that enrich various components of its architecture, such as the roofs, pillars and swallowtail eaves.

The temple's roofs, in particular, feature mythical creatures such as dragons and other guardian figures, legendary characters, and natural elements. These intricate adornments convey profound symbolism, representing values such as loyalty, filial piety, benevolence, and the enduring battle against evil while ushering in good fortune. A trinity of three gods presides indeed the top of the temple, symbolizing fortune, prosperity, and longevity.

Notably, many of these ornate elements on the roof are crafted using "jian nian," a mosaic sculpture technique that repurposes broken pieces of ceramic bowls and vases (note for fashion fans, make your own connections between this technique repurposing ceramic pieces and Margiela's broken ceramic waistcoat from the A/W 1989-90 collection View this photo).

This technique is often employed to create figurines, flowers, and animals; between the 1950s to the 1970s, when ceramic resources were scarce after the Japanese occupation, these pieces were crafted from colorful glass shards.

Moving inward, the temple's ceilings are equally remarkable, with intricately decorated and visually mesmerizing wooden beams and carvings. The latter frequently incorporate traditional patterns and symbols, reinforcing the temple's cultural and religious identity.

Also the carvings conjure a sense of sacredness and spirituality while the lanterns suspended from the ceilings serve not only as sources of illumination but also as symbols of enlightenment and spiritual awakening and the lion statues guard the entrance and protect the temple from evil spirits.

Even the less-known temples, therefore, tell through their architectural features and embellishments a story of devotion, dedication, patience, and exceptional artistry, qualities and driving forces behind the most remarkable achievements in any field (art and fashion included, obviously...).

A Lesson about Architecture (& Resilience) in Taipei's Bopiliao Historic Block

There is an intriguing amalgamation of old and new styles in Taipei's Wanhua District as scooters and cars swiftly pass alongside the Bopiliao Historic Block, with its low-rise red brick buildings.

The block is all that remains of the original neighborhood with history stretching from the Qing Dynasty through the Japanese colonial era and the Republic period.

During the Qing Dynasty, there were three major maritime trading hubs in Taiwan, Monga (Wanhua), Fucheng in Tainan and Lukang in Changhua.

Different architectural styles are blended together here and rich cultural traditions from all three periods.

This was a densely inhabited area for hundreds of years and one of the main commercial centers.

It was also a favourite choice of accommodation for travelers. In this area there were indeed quite a few inns where farmers selling their products in the city could rest or sleep overnight.

Walking around the historic block, one of the first things you're confronted with are the storefronts of Guangzhou Street.

The traditional street houses are lined one next to the other and you can appreciate their architectural features and details standing in front of them, trying to spot at the same time all the differences in their architectures.

One of the first structures is the old peat coal market. Before the existence of gas, electricity and water heaters, cooking, showering and boiling water required charcoal for fire. Producers of charcoal manufactured it up in the mountains and transported it to the various shops in town and to the market for distribution.

One of the most refined buildings is the one located on 151 Guangzhou Street: the three-story cement building is the tallest on the block and was reconstructed in the early years of the Republic of China and built using reinforced concrete, a newly introduced construction material at the time.

The decorative elements of the buildings in Guangzhou Street may prove inspiring for creative minds, especially for fashion designers looking for ideas (embroideries, for example) to embellish their creations, but also for jewelry designers (do not underestimate the various differences between the windows of the houses on the block, an idea that could be turned into a sort of theme for a project - keep in mind the windows in the Brooking Collection of Architectural Detail...).

There are a lot of elements to admire here: verandas built to protect people from the rain so that they could walk even in a heavy downpour, while business could continue to operate; the textures of the materials and the red bricks (that also characterise Taipei's Red House) of different shapes and sizes, quite a few of them engraved with the letters T, R and S.

The block featured long and narrow structures where vital businesses were located. The stores fueled the local economy, but were also homes to the people who ran them: usually there was a wall dividing the front and back into the storefront and the living area.

The block was re-opened in 2009 to promote art, culture and architecture and discover the stories or the people behind the buildings.

Xiuying Teahouse was for example a gathering place for the local neighborhood, residents would go there to relax and chat; Dr. Asho Ro's House sheds instead light on the life of a doctor who practiced in Xinzhuang and led researches on opium before moving back here to open the renowned Huaian Hospital (located at the intersection of Kangding Road and Guangzhou Street).

Walking around the block you may also stumble upon interesting exhibitions that try to create a continuum between the early memories of this area and modern stories of local craftspeople who established their businesses in the area and ran them for generations.

Current displays encourage visitors to discover the history of the Fu Datong Tea Shop and the tea local culture; Longshan Buddhist Arts Shop, with the sculptors continuing to make religious symbols providing believers with spiritual comfort; Lao Ming Yu's incense shop, and the story of incense makers, Fu Shan bamboo steamers and Taipei Tang's confectionery.

One of the most extensive display is dedicated to the printing industry in Wanhua with the story of the Sun Book Binding Factory. Founded during Japanese Colonial Rule, its practices were passed down for three generations.

In the early days, the process of manufacturing a book required many different people and materials and in these streets the pages of books were compiled and put together before being shipped out. Wanhua printers helped Taiwan's publishing industry flourishing.

Historically Wanhua is where Taipei began, but in modern times it was also one of the areas that suffered the most: the Covid-19 pandemic hit it hard and forced many businesses to close down in rapid succession.

Yet there is a lesson here: this area experienced expropriation, urban renewal and restoration, prompting visitors to reflect on the transformative nature of crises.

We all encounter our own individual challenges, yet, concealed within these red bricks standing undaunted, is an eloquent reminder that we, too, can find the strength within ourselves to rise once more when we encounter life's challenges and rise again after our setbacks.

The Transformation of Taipei's Red House: From Historic Landmark to Modern Symbol

In many cities, iconic architectural landmarks often remain untouched, frozen in time.

However, some undergo transformations, shedding their old identities to embrace new purposes and symbolism. Such is the story of Taipei's Red House.

Nestled in the heart of the Ximending neighborhood within Taipei's Wanhua district, the Red House is a two-story octagonal building with red tiles and bricks.

Designed by Japanese architect Kondo Juro, it was completed in 1908 and served as Taiwan's first government-built public market (the original doorpost from the market can still be admire nearby).

Originally known as the Shinkigai Market, the ground floor featured an octagonal hall where Japanese merchants traded cosmetics, leisure products, and more (the area where it is located, Ximending, was the reserved migrating areas for Japanese people).

The Cruciform Building at the rear housed an array of fresh fruits and vegetables, while the upper floor was a hub for Taiwanese and Japanese products, along with cake and coffee shops. Over time, it expanded to include a tea room and dining area, attracting visitors in search of novel and innovative products.

In 1945, the Red House underwent a transformation as Taiwan's nationalist government renamed it the Red House Theater. It became a venue for popular entertainment, hosting Peking and Yue (Shaoxing) opera, as well as comedic performances.

However, with the rise of nearby movie theaters, it was repurposed as The Red House Cinema in the 1960s. While it was a popular attraction screening black-and-white martial arts and Western films, it eventually faded into obscurity.

In the year 2000, a fire damaged the Cruciform Building; fortunately, the structure was renovated and reopened. In 2007, the building was reinvented as a tourist attraction, featuring a friendly space with a handicraft market, boutiques, and stalls showcasing local design brands, promoting Taiwanese businesses from the cultural and creative industries.

This shift aimed to restore the building's original purpose while taking it a step further: the Red House now boasts a performance space and, outside, the North and South Squares serve as additional performing spaces and market stalls. In 2008 the Red House received recognition with the "Best Historical Site Revitalization" project award.

The building gained renewed popularity when South Square started hosting outdoor gay bars, eventually becoming the largest outdoor gay bar area in Asia.

In 2018, the Octagon building reopened and currently features displays highlighting the diversity and inclusivity of Taiwanese society, emphasizing LGBTQ+ rights, milestones, and same-sex marriages.

May 2019 marked indeed a historic moment when Taiwan became the first Asian country to legalize same-sex marriage; in May 2023, the Legislative Yuan, the national government's legislative assembly, also granted same-sex couples the right to jointly adopt a child neither are related to, further solidifying Taiwan's commitment to equality.

Today, the Red House is a prominent fixture in Taipei's annual Pride parade (taking place tomorrow), which closes Taiwan's Pride Month (October). First held in 2003, this parade has become East Asia's largest annual Pride celebration.

The Rainbow Six, located at exit No. 6 of Ximen MRT Station will also be another landmark location of the Pride parade, like 228 Peace Memorial Park (formerly called Taipei New Park). The latter is a historical gay spot that was also the setting for the renowned Taiwanese gay novel (the first in Chinese) Crystal Boys (Niezi, literally "Sinners", 1983; first published in English in 1990) by Pai Hsien-yung.

If you're planning to visit Taipei, read the novel and then visit these locations, reflecting on the journey of progress from the young men in Taiwan's homosexual community, who referred to themselves as "Niezi" or as "glass/crystal boys" (terms used as metaphors for their invisibility), to the transformative shift in modern history with the LGBTQ+ community emerging from the shadows to be openly celebrated also through architectural landmarks.

Chips and Chic: What If Luxury Conglomerates Entered the Semiconductor Market?

Just a couple of weeks ago, LVMH reported a 9% organic revenue growth in its fashion and leather goods division. Yet the figure fell short of the 11.2% anticipated by analysts. The wines and spirits segment of the group recorded a staggering 14% decline, a far cry from the 17% growth in the preceding quarter, figures that seemed to prove that the post-pandemic luxury boom is losing momentum.

The trend was confirmed by another recent report: French luxury group Kering, owner of Yves Saint Laurent, Gucci, Balenciaga and Bottega Veneta among the others, reported a bigger-than-expected drop in third quarter sales.

On Tuesday, the French luxury group reported revenues of €4.46 billion euros for the third quarter of 2023, a 13% decrease as reported and 9% on a comparable basis. This includes a 6% negative impact from exchange rates and a 2% positive effect from the acquisition of eyewear brand Maui Jim.

In Q3 2023, Gucci recorded revenue of €2.2 billion, reflecting a 14% decrease as reported and a 7% drop on a comparable basis, although it demonstrated resilience in handbags and the Valigeria collection. Wholesale revenue also declined by 17% on a comparable basis. During this period, Gucci introduced its new creative direction with Sabato De Sarno's inaugural collection for the house.

Yves Saint Laurent reported revenue of €768 million, marking a 16% decrease as reported and a 12% decline on a comparable basis. Despite these challenges, positive momentum was achieved in women's ready-to-wear, and the brand continues to pursue its strategy of elevating its product offering. Wholesale revenue, however, fell significantly by 38% on a comparable basis.

Bottega Veneta reported revenue of €381 million in the third quarter, reflecting a 13% decrease as reported and a 7% decline on a comparable basis. Wholesale revenue saw a notable 30% decrease on a comparable basis.

The Group's other houses generated revenue of €805 million in the third quarter, recording a 19% decrease and a 15% decline on a comparable basis. Balenciaga experienced mixed growth, while Alexander McQueen faced a slowdown during the quarter. Trends were more optimistic for jewelry: Boucheron achieved positive results, reflecting the success of its High Jewelry and Jewelry collections; Pomellato witnessed solid growth in its stores, while Qeelin showed excellent momentum.

Kering Eyewear reported revenue of €331 million in the third quarter of 2023, marking a 34% increase as reported, and a 2% rise on a comparable basis. The growth was primarily attributed to optical frames sales, though, following robust sunglasses sales in the first half of the year.

Aside from challenging macroeconomic conditions and the shifting demand within the luxury industry, the performance was attributed to strategic decisions to elevate the brand offerings (Kering went through a number of changes, including management restructuring, and reduction at wholesale distribution level, besides, it acquired Creed, a renowned fragrance house).

Some of us may be luxury consumers; others simply can't afford luxury or just prefer investing their money in other ways, which means that most of us mere mortals do not really care about the losses registered by this sector. That said, exploring the luxury market and comparing it to other industries and sectors can be exciting.

While things may change and these powerful groups may recover, we aren't living in great times for luxury: consumer skepticism about the future is understandable, especially in the context of the ongoing conflict in Ukraine and the current situation in the Middle East, after Hamas’ atrocities and Israel's retaliation.

But what's interesting to consider about luxury is maybe the fact that these groups seem to be constantly expanding, but often in limited directions. There is indeed one sector that they do not seem too keen on keeping an eye on – technology. In this context, we're not referring to the more glamorous areas like smart wearables, NFTs, or Artificial Intelligence, which have piqued the fashion industry's interest. Instead, we're alluding to less glamorous yet immensely valuable technologies, such as advanced microchips.

The electronic components market experienced a surprise turnaround during the initial wave of the Covid-19 pandemic. As many industries and factories shut down during the early weeks of the pandemic, several electronic manufacturers initially reduced their production, anticipating order cancellations due to lockdowns.

However, the semiconductor industry witnessed an unexpected boost, not from its typical markets, but from sectors such as healthcare, medicine, and consumer goods. These industries sought high-end products for medical applications, remote work, distance learning, and home entertainment, creating a surge in demand that caught the industry off guard. Initially, there were concerns about excess component stock, but these were quickly overshadowed by the demand from these emerging markets. Chip manufacturers actually produced more semiconductors during the pandemic and shortages, such as the one that disrupted the car production in the United States throughout 2021 and 2022, were driven by increased demand rather than supply issues.

Semiconductors power all sorts of devices, from electronic goods such as phones and computers to data centers, and area employed in a wide range of industries including aviation, automotive and manufacturing. But the problem is that we all mainly rely on chips from Taiwan, primarily produced by Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing Company (TSMC), the world's largest producer of this technology. In turn, TSMC relies on the Taiwan Strait's stability.

Indeed, economists highlight that, if a political crisis ever occurred and China attempted to gain power over Taiwan and control of crucial chip production facilities, there would be severe consequences on a global level. A Taiwan crisis would indeed cost trillions, dwarfing the Covid-19 pandemic's economic impact. Delays in chip production would disrupt various industries, and even upgrading cell phone networks would become challenging.

TSMC's chip production necessitates complex software, the use of potentially dangerous chemicals, ultra-pure silicon, and the deployment of costly machinery to craft tiny transistors on silicon wafers. These are the main reasons why, while the pandemic has taught us that many industries including Big Tech firms can be easily relocated or continue functioning remotely in case of an emergency, rebuilding chip production capacity in other countries would take at least half a decade (that's why in 2021 Taiwanese President Tsai Ing-wen referred to Taiwan's chip industry as a "silicon shield" against disruptions in global supply chains…).

The U.S., Germany, and Japan are accelerating efforts to establish chip manufacturing capabilities: with support from the Biden administration, TSMC also invested $40 billion in two factories in Phoenix, Arizona, but it is facing challenges due to cultural differences and recruiting skilled labor (the knowledge gap between American and Taiwanese technicians meant that hundreds of specialists from Taiwan had to be called over for assistance). This has caused project delays, pushing chip production to 2025 from the initially planned date next year.

What has this got to do with the luxury market? Well, While iconic luxury items like Hermès' Birkin bags have long been regarded as valuable investments, even better than gold and stock market, the semiconductor market offers enticing rewards. This raises the intriguing question of whether luxury groups will one day venture into the world of advanced microchips.

Could we see luxury brands entering the semiconductor market, investing money in this industry or launching their own branded chips? It may sound like a science fiction story with a fashionable twist, but in today's ever-evolving landscape, nothing can be entirely ruled out. Technology and luxury are increasingly intertwined, and luxury will likely need to continually reinvent itself to remain relevant, so, who knows, the idea of branded chips might just be the next unexpected evolution in a luxury market that is losing consumers and support.

Contemplations On the Aerial Perspective & On Geographical Boundaries

Landscapes, as we have seen in the previous post, can be deceptive but fascinating. And which is the best perspective to admire them from? Obviously, the aerial view.

The bird's eye view has fascinated many creative minds, from interior to fashion designers.

As seen in previous posts, at times it inspired three-dimentional textures and surface elaborations, graphic effects, conceptual prints or motifs borrowed from satellite images like the ones on Google Earth and even a Haute Couture Skydiver gown (and don't forget Le Corbusier's 1935 book Aircraft - Download LeCorbusier_AIRCRAFT - in which he stated how grateful he was for the architectural lesson the aerial view gave him).

I'm partial to the aerial view, but that's not because I feel superior and I like to see things (and people) from above. Quite the opposite.

I find this view fascinating because, from this perspective, everyday problems and pressures seem infinitely small.

They become indeed as tiny as ants, while you get a wider perspective on things and you realise you're just one human being among millions on this immense planet (so there's simply no point in feeling superior!).

Depending from where you are you may obtain an intriguing aerial perspective in different ways, including climbing up a mountain or a hill, for example.

In Taipei you can get amazing views of the city from Taipei 101, the tallest building in Taiwan.

A lift to the 89th floor will take you straight to the indoor observation deck that offers 360° views over the city (or, if you feel braver and it's not too cloudy or windy, you may opt to reach the outdoor observation deck on the 91st floor).

As you may guess, the landscape is truly amazing and you can admire from there the densely populated capital, and try to spot landmarks - from the Sun Yat-Sen Memorial to the Grand Hotel of Taipei in the distance, one of the tallest Chinese classical buildings in the world at the time of its completion with its vermilion columns and gilded roof tiles. Or you can look over the surrounding peaks and hills dominated by a subtropical broadleaf forest.

Another vantage point for the aerial perspective is obviously from a plane: geography fans will definitely get a kick on long distance flights following live the progresses of the plane on the seatback screen, while, if you're lucky, looking out of the window will allow you to see the extensive blue sky - its colours and calling to mind Alighiero Boetti's mural "Aerei" (Aeroplanes, 1978-1989) series - adorned with clouds resembling fluffy cream.

But how can the aerial view inspire us? We have mentioned its connections with fashion at the beginning of this post, but we can also add to them what we learnt from yesterday's post about Laurent Grasso's landscapes with those vast expanses of land seen from above, at times characterised by well-defined geographical contours.

This aspect of the conversation actually leads us to more profound reflections on the way these geographic boundaries impact our perception of the world. Borders, in essence, are not mere lines on a map; they represent the confluence of cultures, histories, and politics, forming a complex tapestry that influences how we understand and interact with our surroundings. The concept of nations and their borders evokes a sense of both unity and division, highlighting the diversity that enriches our global landscape while emphasizing the barriers that can impede our collective progress.

Themes such as the aerial view, borders and nations can be combined in clever ways in design projects, as proved by the Italy-shaped boots matched with Sicily and Sardinia clutches (1986) by Cinzia Ruggeri. But the artist, fashion and interior designer also created a table shaped like the island of Milos in Greece (2017), with one leg covered with a creel, a reference to the container used by fishermen, but also to craftsmanship. 

Ruggeri is not the only interior designer who opted for this geographical solution for a table: Shigeru Uchida's land tables created for the 2015 Decoration Today exhibition in Tokyo, depicted indeed geographical regions of Japan.

In a way these designs provide conceptual roadmaps, allowing us to explore the multifaceted dimensions of our world without moving an inch.

Yet, their significance extends far beyond the mere aesthetics of cartography. These creations serve as reflections on the physical and metaphorical distances that define our lives. They speak to the boundaries and confines we encounter, both geographical and psychological.

In a poignant twist, they also draw attention to the stark realities of our world, where geographical borders have the power to both unite and divide, offering opportunities for connection or becoming the source of conflicts and turmoil.

From mere artifacts, these designs become therefore narratives etched with the stories of nations, borders, and the human spirit's unyielding quest for exploration. So, for today contemplate the significance of these notions, of the aerial perspective and of geographical boundaries, pondering about the beauty and complexity of our world from above and the intricate web of human and natural influences that shape our landscapes. 

Landscapes Can Be Deceptive: Laurent Grasso's "Orchid Island" @ Perrotin Gallery, Paris

We have explored in the previous post inspirations borrowed from nature, and in particular flowers and trees filtered through Artificial Intelligence.

However, nature offers artists a variety of ideas, and some find themselves more fascinated by the immense scale of the natural world. Take, for instance, Laurent Grasso, whose latest exhibition at the Perrotin Gallery in Paris embarks on an exploration of vast landscapes.

We may not be noticing, but we are surrounded by depictions of landscapes: a few of us may be partial to paintings, illustrations or engravings of landscapes, but most of us content themselves with a screensaver on our computers or a smartphone wallpaper showing vast expanses of sea or mountain ranges, landscapes that evoke tranquility and contemplation in the stress and chaos of our everyday lives.

Yet landscapes can also be deceptive as John Berger states in his novel "A Fortunate Man"; for Berger a landscape can indeed obscure reality, concealing truths beneath their picturesque facades.

In Laurent Grasso's "Orchid Island" exhibition (running until December 23) the artist explores the landscape tradition and what it signifies to represent an idealized nature while acknowledging the gradual disappearance of true wilderness.

While the title is a reference to the Taiwanese island of Lanyu – renamed Orchid Island by the Chinese government in the 1940s - Grasso draws from diverse inspirations, ranging from painted landscapes that serve as mementos of a lost paradise to depictions of uncharted territories waiting for exploration and colonization. This exploration led him to the creation of a new series of sculptures, paintings, and a video project.

The video project, shot in Taiwan, captures a lush tropical landscape bordered by dense foliage. Yet, a disconcerting element emerges in this natural scene - a Suprematism-inspired floating rectangular shape hovers above the landscape, casting an air of ominous abstraction. This form hints at high-tech interventions and invokes a sense of mysterious presence, akin to a scenario from a science fiction tale.

If it weren't for this presence, Grasso's work would be more similar to an idyllic 19th century landscape painting; instead, the rectangular shape evokes supernatural phenomena, affecting the landscape and pointing also at the artist's fascination with celestial wonders and the paranormal.

Rendered in black and white, the video also plays with juxtapositions: Orchid Island serves as a tourist destination while simultaneously housing a nuclear-waste dump, leading to conflicts with the Indigenous Tao community. The video also hints at political issues and at the broader tensions between Taiwan and China, implicitly pointing at contemporary aerial surveillance technology as the video was shot using a drone.

Echoing the film, a LiDAR scan shows the ghostly image of a Phalaenopsis orchid in all its fragility: the elusive beauty of this flower, which grows on Orchid Island, embodies the ambivalence of the place.

The paintings in Grasso's new series take instead inspiration from the works of the Hudson River School, a late 19th-century movement that marveled at the grandeur of American landscapes. Grasso's paintings, however, challenge the notion of an idyllic and imagined nature by adding a filter in front of the painting that forms a sort of misty gray veil, suggesting themes related to pollution and smog. Amidst this haze, glimpses of palm trees, mountains, water, and sky endure, evoking the specter of deforestation, climate change, and human destruction.

The haze and the obscured landscapes also convey an air of awe and sublimity, much like the ethereal fog in the "Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog" by Caspar David Friedrich. There is actually something sublime in "Orchid Island", even though the artist also references as an inspiration the Airborne Toxic Event in Don Delillo's "White Noise", with a dark cloud that is both terrifying and awe-inspiring, at once a threat and an ineffable presence.

The immaterial rectangle and the haze in the paintings morph into four cloud-shaped marble sculptures in the last room of the exhibition. These black marble clouds also hint at the ruyi-cloud pattern and at the symbolism behind it.

Unlike natural clouds, these are not weightless and floating in the sky; instead, they are solid, grounded and heavy. Terrestrial representations, they are materializations of the invisible, enveloped in darkness and ambiguity, serving as a poignant reminder that nature's true essence remains elusive and enigmatic.

From Natural to Deceptive & Illusionary Artificial Intelligence-Enhanced Blooms

In a metropolis like Taipei, parks offer a much-needed respite from the daily chaos. Amidst these green sanctuaries, residents and visitors alike find themselves reconnecting with nature and discovering beautiful plants like the Heliconia rostrata, that you may spot in Xiangshan Park. 

This plant's defining feature is its pendent or drooping inflorescence, which is composed of vibrant red bracts. The bracts bear a striking resemblance to the powerful claws of a lobster or the beak of a toucan, showcasing bold and eye-catching red hues.

So, this could be a perfect inspiration for a creative project, but would we obtain more intriguing results if we combined the natural with the digital world?

Contemporary artist Mat Collishaw actually did so in his latest exhibition currently on at London's Kew Gardens. A UNESCO World Heritage Site in July 2003, Kew is a world-famous scientific organisation, internationally respected for its outstanding collections and scientific expertise in plant and fungal diversity, conservation, and sustainable development in the UK.

Collishaw's "Petrichor" (on display at the Shirley Sherwood Gallery of Botanical Art until 7th April 2024) blends the splendor of Kew Gardens with the influence of Artificial Intelligence (AI) to prompt visitors to ponder about humanity's ambivalent relationship with nature.

The show opens with "Columbine" and "Whispering Weeds", animated versions of Albrecht Dürer's watercolour paintings "Columbine" and "Great Piece of Turf".

Widely regarded as early masterpieces in the field of botanical art, Dürer's paintings are transformed into animation, bringing these pioneering depictions of the natural world into our times.

Venturing deeper into Collishaw's world, visitors encounter "The Venal Muse." This collection takes inspiration from Charles Baudelaire's Les Fleurs du Mal but also evokes Des Esseintes's taste for the disquieting and the perverted and his obsession with fantastic plants with the appearance of artificial skin ridged with false veins that looked consumed by syphilis and leprosy, in Joris-Karl Huysmans' À Rebours.

The unsettling sculptures in the exhibition are a provocative interpretation, casts of orchids that take on a dark, almost grotesque demeanor, manipulated to mimic venereal diseases and pointing therefore at human depravity.

The "Alluvion" series paints a fascinating picture, seamlessly merging 17th-century still life paintings of Dutch Old Masters with contemporary AI. What appears to be a bouquet of flowers actually conceals insects: in these new interpretations of the original paintings, insectified flowers mimic a female mate to attract pollinating insects (a phenomenon known as Pouyannian mimicry, common in orchids where several species mimic female bees and wasps).

The paintings, generated using Artificial Intelligence, are a way for the artist to employ the insect/flower relationship to hint at the human/machine metaphor and at interactions between human/artificial intelligence.

The large-scale projected work "Even to the End" employs instead pioneering technology to immerse viewers in a 9-minute sequence inspired by the innovation of the Wardian Case and the transportation of plant specimens around the globe.

Created in collaboration with video artists based in Ukraine, the video is accompanied by Samuel Barber's Adagio for Strings, a composition which draws inspiration from Virgil's Georgics, a poem about agriculture and growth, and how humanity's efforts to cultivate the land is constantly under threat from destructive powers.

Moving from specimens in glass, passing through the oceans and reaching an island of dense forests, "Even to the End" is a journey through a natural world brought to life by a computer's creativity.

In "Heterosis," Collishaw explores the possibilities of Non Fungible Tokens (NFTs), blending genetic algorithms with blockchain technology to facilitate the hybridisation of mutable digital flowers.

The artist used this medium to tap into the tulip mania of the 17th century. At the time tulip bulb prices reached unprecedented levels and this experience offers a modern twist on this historical fascination, allowing participants to act as breeders and cultivate their own animated flowers, or join forces as collaborative artists, creating novel species and increasingly intricate and exotic blossoms for personal enjoyment or potential sale.

Taking the form of an intricate 19th-century "Pepper's Ghost" illusion (and not using any digital tricks this time...), "Albion" is a large-scale installation in which Callishaw resurrected the Major Oak in Sherwood Forest.

This ancient oak, standing for over 800 years and associated with the legend of Robin Hood, takes on an eerie quality. Created using laser scanning, "Albion" reflects the artist's commentary at the time of the Brexit referendum. Its title refers to the ancient oak tree as an emblem of England, a ghost-like apparition supported by chains and crutches that vanishes when you get closer or walk around it. Reflecting the political and social climate during the referendum in Britain, the installation serves as a haunting metaphor for England.

The exhibition also features "The Centrifugal Soul," a zoetrope reimagining a Victorian innovation. The spinning Centrifugal Soul depicts an animated scene of bowerbirds and birds of paradise as they perform elaborate courtship displays against an ornate backdrop of flowers in perpetual bloom.

"The Centrifugal Soul" explores how aesthetic diversity has evolved through the natural instincts of courtship and evolution and reflects on humanity's seemingly never-ending search for aesthetic appeal.

"Petrichor" encourages visitors to explore the interplay between the natural world and innovative technologies: Collishaw's works combine botanical art traditions with cutting-edge technology, showing that AI can be an integral part of the creative process. The artist also uses this dichotomy to point at the interconnectedness of all things and at the intriguing results we may achieve when we merge the old and the new.

Yet, there's more: through his striking and eerie installations Collishaw offers a glimpse into the complex relationship between humanity and the natural world, reminding us that preserving the beauty of our planet remains paramount.

Indeed, if we keep on destroying Earth, one day we may be confronted by the same scenes from Collishaw's project "Greenhouse," in which a revengeful nature has reclaimed our cultural and artistic spaces, including London's National Gallery.

Nocturnal Moods: The Allure of Half-Lit Alleys & Buildings

Have you ever strolled through a city late at night, when the popular landmarks have drifted into slumber, and most people have surrendered to the embrace of their beds?

It's during these silent hours that the less-traveled back streets awaken, cloaked in an irresistible shroud of mystery.

In the quietude of the night, the city's heartbeat assumes a different cadence: once the natural light has gone, the city's veins pulse with a unique rhythm and, in the subtle glow of the moon and the scattered streetlights, enigmatic half-lit alleyways reveal all their decadent charm.

The gentle radiance of streetlights, their soft glows and gentle halos, weave pockets of warmth amidst the inky black canvas of the night, while an air of mystique envelops every corner and crevice.

The vibrant daytime hustle subsumes and metamorphoses into a contemplative haven under the watchful gaze of the moon.

The streets with their half-lit buildings, silent witnesses and sentinels of the night, unveil a multifaceted character that reflects the city's myriad identities.

It's a world where imagination intertwines with reality, and the line between the two becomes delightfully blurred, allowing your fantasy to wander.

Amid the quiet embrace of the half-lit buildings and secluded alleyways, you suddenly find yourself contemplating life and humanity, maybe wondering about the stories of people's sleeping behind those softly glowing windows; you imagine whispered conversations, tender moments, and the soft rustle of dreams taking flight, or fantasize about bizarre nocturnal adventures and a city's best-kept secrets. 

Fashion design students out there, how can you turn the nocturnal inspiration into an idea for a collection? Try to think about the moods it may inspire you, but also look at the details you may spot on half-lit buildings like the ones pictured in this post, from Taipei's Shilin, with their graffitis, air conditioning units, advertising billboards, windows and electric cables. Remember: everything can be inspiring, you just need to look at it with an open mind and from an unconventional perspective. Enjoy your nocturnal stroll and make sure you stay safe while taking it.