When we try to escape from life, to virtualize ourselves, perhaps chasing a cloud will be a sweet dream. 當我們試著從生活中逃脫，將自己虛化，或許追逐雲朵會是一場美夢。

By Wu Shu-An

In 1997, Tsui Yung-Yen graduated from Taipei National University of the Arts to face an art market that had yet to be born. With grim resolution, Tsui gave up on her artistic dreams. Instead, she went into the publishing industry, where she learned many essential skills during a short working period. After leaving a giant publishing firm, she turned her focus towards independent book illustrations and graphic design. In 2006, the National Palace Museum commissioned Tsui to lead its Old is New project. Tsui gathered the museum’s collection of artifacts and related historical figures, and integrated the context of historical books with the form of cute and lovable dolls. Unfortunately, the project failed to meet original expectations due to budgetary and legal constraints. Yet, this failure ultimately resulted in a large remnant of research and related images. These provided the basic materials for the 2009 launch of The Circus of Den-Den-Ciao-Jean series. The fictitious circus is polished, painted, and electroplated into smooth and translucent surfaces without corners. With cute and round physiques that are not quite suitable for circus performances, the circus members face each other with an air of indifference. Apparently, they are neither proper nor professional. They also do not seem to know how many viewers are watching. Perhaps, they just do not care. They are showcased through paintings and sculptures in solo exhibitions, such as The Circus of Den-Den-Ciao-Jean – a non-related occupational performance or The Show Must Go On, and numerous group exhibitions. Even with five years of experience in performing, they are still what they were then: an unknown and unprofessional circus.      

The curtains slowly rise as lights are focused on the center of the stage. They face the audience in the midst of darkness and silence. Regardless of whether the people are prepared for the stage, the show has already begun nevertheless. After this ceremony, performers will be considered a part of the performance no matter what they do, even if they veered completely from the original script and rehearsal. The Circus of Den-Den-Ciao-Jean has no front curtain. For completely static works of art, the performance has already begun before the artist has announced its completion, regardless of the projection lamp. It will continue until a time of inconceivable destruction. Amongst forces of pulling and dragging, their various athletic stances are always compelled into a motionless state – the tight distribution of strength is compressed to a standstill and into a non-variable, hardened and stubborn object – much like a monument. Even with silence and stillness, these sculptures and paintings convey a literary ambiance – it is as if they are telling a story, yet we cannot grasp the exact narrative through the intertextuality of the works or the work itself. Whether the story exists or not, it appears to be reasonable yet somewhat strange, while corresponding to the artist’s experiences in illustrating.      

In conclusion, they still carry a hint of smiling clumsiness even if there is no story, as they are unable to complete professional performances due to their innate limitations. Unable to move by themselves, they always still return to an eternal and dark fate. It appears that we do not see through the glossy and cute sugarcoating of the dark monologue, or the overflowing of its tightly-wrapped inner sense of sadness when we view The Circus of Den-Den-Ciao-Jean. However, discussions involving the “creation” of art always allude to a sense of hope and creation filled with possibility and initiative – a bright moment worthy of memorializing. What we know is that in the infinite variety of colors contained in the spectrum, it doesn’t matter whether the color is beautiful or brilliant; a color called black has never actually existed.