Walk Your Own Path, 2017-2024, Acrylic on canvas, 310 × 1110 cm (310 × 185 cm × 6 pcs)
Foreword:
Mind Set Art Center hosted “Walk Your Own Path”, a large-scale solo-exhibition of Lee Ming-tse, in 2025. The show puts on display 20 sets of new artworks that Lee had been working on for three years. The artist incorporated inspirations from multiple sources, including real-life observations, the color paintings in traditional temples, novels with individual chapter headers, Wuxia comic books, among others. The artist has also employed narrative techniques from mythologies to enrich the fantasy elements in folklores and to add depth to the revealed truth.
The works on display include: the 11-meter wide monumental hexaptych, “Walk Your Own Path” (same titles as the exhibition); a series of 10 round ink brush paintings named after Kaohsiung’s streets such as “Yisin” and “Shihcyuan”. They look like delicate decorative patterns from afar. But upon closer inspection, they transport the viewers into a world where the vision, reality and spirits endlessly shift; mixed-media sculptures that isolate key folklore figures and recreate them with innovative techniques that bind together rare materials that had been burned and destroyed, resulting in three-dimensional artworks brimming with conflicting emotions.
I. A preliminary exploration of “Walk Your Own Path”, the 11-meter wide hexaptych:
The first and second panel depict events, which are unknown to outsiders, occurring within the vast yet secluded gardens of wealthy landowners with connections to officials and merchants. Past the midpoint of the third panel, Lee has painted railings and lotus ponds that effectively separate the luxurious estates within the garden from the flower beds, woods, and impoverished rural areas. Meanwhile, a group of mysterious masked figures in black-and-white the inner woods. The shifts in reality are even more drastic: external elements such as power pylons and landslides enter the frame, breaking up the continuity of the space and the consistency of the architectural styles. Fragmentation and disorder become the dominant tone of the painting. The artist’s perspective has also changed. He’s no longer looking outward from his inner space, but instead, observing the chaotic and shattered state of things from a distant, elevated vantage point.
Between the third and fourth panels, all the figures wear mask, including the ones in black and the ones in white. The two groups seem hostile to each other. In contrast to the official forces of the Qing dynasty, they represent the grassroots resistance or the invading Japanese. The artist seems to deliberately leaves it ambiguous, creating a broader, more expansive martial arts universe.
In the two following panels, the naval and air forces of hostile nations have already entered Taiwan's territorial waters and airspace. Meanwhile, architectural styles of all kinds invade our cities unchecked. Also seen everywhere in the city are the most formidable and stealthy martial artists of every era — such Superman and spies of different genders and from different stories. They can scale city skyscrapers and hack into our computers to steal or sabotage information. Though their appearance differs greatly from earlier groups in masks, there is much continuity among them all.
II. Broken relief sculptures crafted from found objects and mixed media
For this body of works, Lee Ming-tse employed rather drastic methods to isolate the protagonists from their backdrops. This method deserves further exploration. 1. In traditional children’s games, the plastic figures of deities or people with high moral integrity and loyalty, regardless of their seizes or color schemes (painted in black-and-white or in color), were all devoid of background. Yet for people of that era, the background stories still more or less existed, some even in vivid details. 2. In Lee’s current body of works, the main figures are not simply cut out from their background. Instead, he deliberately displays the traces of the background being burned away. The remaining central figures appear faded and broken, some even give the impression of being decayed and discarded trash. 3. The images of traditional stories, mythologies and games are rapidly disappearing, and replaced by images, stickers, and keychains ornaments derived from Western movies, television shows, and amusement parks.
When the more refined architectural compounds of ancient times fell into ruin for various reasons, weeds overgrew, walls gradually crumbled, exposing the coarse underlying materials. The painted depictions of loyalty, filial piety, morality, or other mythological subjects also deteriorated and peeled off. This state can in fact evoke a poetic beauty tinged with nostalgia.
If these ruins were left behind by abandoned temples or relocated graves, they could easily take on an eerie atmosphere — a phenomenon artist Yeh Wei-Li once addressed. In the past, Lee Ming-tse’s works often dealt with the unspeakable power struggles and illicit love stories hidden within the declining, secluded mansions and gardens. But this time, it is clearly different.
Those tattered gauze-wrapped relief sculptures do carry a somewhat sinister air. Upon closer inspection, one can see traces of burning along their edges. If the viewers observe the stains, watermarks, the iodine-led discolorations on the gauze material, or even the sculpture’s backside, they would surely be shocked by the messy, makeshift crudeness, and likely consider the work as a pile of garbage. The traces of the sculpture being salvaged from fire or being cut from a whole tell many stories. Anyone who has seen the open factories that manufacture religious statues next to rural streets or half-finished monster mannequins piled outside workshops would understand the unsettling sensations that these gauzed-wrapped relief sculptures evoke.
There are, however, a few other relief sculptures that display a different imagery. They are highly polished and adorned in beautiful, fashionable colors. They depict the image of a wealthy offical strolling in a leisurely manner, his hands behind his back. The sculpture seems to have successfully transformed the vanished identity of a traditional elite into a lifestyle and a state of mind that the modern people could follow or occasionally emulate.
III. The inner mystique of the round composition of the ink brush paintings
A preliminary classification of the round compositions
First, we can categorize all the paintings into three groups for some formal analysis. One painting from the first group displays a quasi-planar continuous pattern developed from floral motifs. However, a few darker lines and patches are seen in the composition, suggesting hidden recessed creases. Another painting from the same group displays continuous patterns of repeating flowering trees. Similar to the previous painting, similar dark lines and patches emerge in the composition, implying hidden creases, and, within them, we can faintly discern human figures.
The second group comprises of only one, highly exemplary painting that depicts an infinitely dense, dynamically interwoven space. This semi-abstract painting portrays an endlessly intricate web, teeming with countless crawling roots or worm-like ribbon creatures that are endlessly and entwining without boundaries. Alternatively, it could be seen as the crisscrossing trails in a dense forest.
Paintings in the third group resemble a freely rotatable holographic image of complex terrain that conceals reclusive sages and their dwellings. At a glance, it appears as a dense, unbroken mountain forest. Yet within it, many strange junctures exist — they could just be mountain streams, trails, or they could be interpreted through the mystical creases and transitional zones. I believe only these creases or transition zones can seamlessly accommodate the collages that constantly shift between horizontal and vertical orientations.
Because within this intricate terrain, suspicious corners of houses and strange figures — or perhaps just tree trunks that resemble human figures — are indeed hidden. This compels us to carefully scan the terrain’s contours with telescopes or magnifying glasses while constantly adjusting our horizontal and vertical perspectives.
Holograms in round compositions with details akin to miniature sculptures
To further understand the third category of paintings, we can refer to Lee Ming-tse’s “Greenland Telescope”. This work reminds us that, looking down at the North Pole from inside a spacecraft in zero gravity would eliminate any fixed orientation — there wouldn’t be "right side up," "upside down," or any preferred viewing angle. Instead, one must observe in a circular manner to grasp the horizon, which appears arching from such a vantage point. Additionally, we become fully aware that beyond the spherical edge of the Earth lies an immense, unseen expanse. This perspective essentially develops radially from the center, then flattens into a plane, fostering an alternative cartographic logic that constantly challenges our habitual sense of horizontal and vertical gravity.
Yet, flattening a hemisphere is still a form of distortion. Why not develop the composition from the neglected edges toward the core? Or from any starting point, extending in all possible directions, or even along the actual multidimensional folds of the terrain? Lee Ming-tse’s circular landscapes, brimming with creases, conceal numerous houses and strange figures. One must comb through his work with a magnifying glass to discover them one by one. Moreover, these circular landscape compositions truly demand rotational viewing to fully experience the serendipitous encounters along the endless, winding paths within the dense forests. Returning to the spatial structure of the second group mentioned earlier, there is potential to further explore the complex, blind, and futile struggles between those faceless bodies of different sizes. And when we revisit paintings of the first group, don’t the flower beds of enclosed mansion gardens also hide mysterious pathways and opportunities for secret encounters and illicit affairs?
IV. In-depth cross analysis of the form and content of “Walk Your Own Path”
The hexaptych deals with highly intricate spatial and temporal relations. We need to therefore divide the panels into two groups: the inner space of the first, second, and third panel, and the outer space of the first, second, and third panel.
1. Inner space of the first panel
The visible large roof and drawn curtains indicate that this is an indoor hall that leads to the outdoors. On the left, the scholar carrying a large brush and a sword on his back — hinting at his expertise in literature and martial arts — is likely the protagonist. The slightly shorter woman in front, holding a fan yet capable of unleashing hidden palm strikes, along with another Taoist nun wielding a horsetail whisk, are clearly no ordinary figures. Rather marvelously, between these individuals, there seems to be a passage extending far into the distance — leading to a vast lake and a mountain peak shrouded in demonic energy. At the foot of the distant mountain, two warriors are locked in a fierce duel of spells and swordsmanship. Next to them, more warriors are sparring, though they don’t appear to be fighting in earnest but rather diligently practicing various extraordinary martial arts techniques. Below the figures, further from the hall’s interior and nearer to the viewers, there are more figures engaged in magical and sword duels, as well as others walking along mountain paths. It seems this mysterious wealthy official’s grand estate is so vast it appears almost boundless, teeming with hidden masters and untold talents. The space itself is structured as an enormous concentric circle, expanding outward from the center in all directions — front, back, left, and right.
2. Inner space of the second panel and its connection to the panel before and after
The large roof and the circular gateway that connects the interior and exterior spaces suggest that this area, like the first panel, belongs to a different corner of the core section of the estate. Beyond the circular gateway, one can see other building clusters within the vast garden. Here, too, the space unfolds as an enormous concentric circle, expanding outward from the center in all directions. The two spaces are distinct yet seamlessly interconnected.
The two largest figures in the scene are both women — one appears to be the mature lady of the house, while the other is likely a housekeeper. Both seem worldly and unflappable, capable of remaining composed in any situation. Scattered throughout the garden are sporadic skirmishes, as well as individuals engaged in self-cultivation. There are even illicit encounters between men and women in secluded corners of the garden. Closer to the viewer and nearer the lower edge, several highly skilled warriors duel atop the rooftops of the estate’s buildings — are these the estate’s guards clashing with invading bandits? Both the first and second panels depict interior spaces that could theoretically expand infinitely into the outside world, though for now, there is no threat of a large-scale external invasion.
In both the first and second panels, the characters’ faces are visible. They include the estate’s master and hostess, their male and female servants, and the guards who protect the grounds. The protagonists appear gentle yet somewhat somber — the male lead carries a giant brush strapped to his back like a sword, a clear indication of his dual mastery in both scholarly and martial pursuits. Having seen Lee Ming-tse’s earlier large-scale portrait works, which often depicted characters whose outward appearances belied their true natures, I’m reminded of the strange figures in this grand hall. Though none of them wear masks, they likely harbor hidden identities — are they friends or foes? It’s hard to say for sure.
Interestingly, at the seam between the second and third panels, in what appears to be a garden, there is a man and a woman — the man seemingly of higher status, the woman slightly lower — engaged in some ambiguous relationship. Lee Ming-tse meticulously uses a mirrored composition to duplicate this pair, further intensifying the sense of secrecy and intrigue. This intermediary element suddenly casts doubt on the seemingly clear relationships among the other figures. Everyone Seems to harbor hidden agendas, and those inside the estate appear to have collusive ties with outside forces. Perhaps this explains the masked figures seen throughout the garden — they come and go as they please, with unimpeded access to the distant countryside beyond. The way space and relationships are handled here, I believe, is masterful.
When masked assassins in black and white, the Japanese ninjas, or righteous bandits like Liao Tianding can freely infiltrate the grand estate — even its innermost chambers — the dynamic becomes fascinating. Originally, the estate was the master’s private domain, where he ruled like an emperor, doing as he pleased. But now, this once-exclusive garden has become a covert passageway for masked factions. The estate seems to have transformed into a potential hub for political conspiracies.
3. Inner space of the third panel
Here, we encounter a dramatic shift in spatial composition. Low walls and railings clearly demarcate the boundary between the inner and outer spaces. The so-called "outer space" is actually an interior-exterior zone — a dense forest and lotus ponds pressed closely against the main hall. Within the darkness of the woods, a multitude of masked figures in black lurk. A lone white-masked individual stands anxiously at the threshold between inside and outside, as if he's hearing something or waiting to rendezvous with someone. Even their allegiance remains ambiguous. The scene deliberately preserves its sense of suspense.
4. Inner space of the third panel and the total transition to the outer space of the first panel
In the central section of the first panel depicting the exterior space, the group of masked figures in white and the group in black are locked in fierce combat. At the upper right looms an exceptionally tall and brawny masked figure — his towering, modern physique contrasting sharply with the seemingly bewildered white-masked figure who earlier stood hesitantly inside the wall. Which factions do they belong to? It remains unclear.
All kinds of bizarre elements proliferate the first panel of the exterior space: Supergirl from Hollywood movies sneaks her way in; the once barren fields above are now cluttered with haphazardly erected power pylons; and near the lower edge, closer to the viewer, the ruins of houses buried by mudslides begin to emerge. By now, if judged solely by the visuals, the composition maintains a somewhat cohesive Taiwanese aesthetic — but the gradual decay and encroaching chaos are undeniable.
5. Outer space of the second and third panel
The most striking feature here is the overwhelming chaos and the invasion of different external forces — two phenomena that shouldn’t be viewed separately. Several massive colonial-era defensive fortresses scattered across Taiwan have now been reactivated, as modern warships from both allied and enemy forces approach nearby waters. The skies over the Taiwan Strait and along the coast have become battlegrounds for close-range helicopter combat. Meanwhile, through various channels of consumption, Western spy films, superhero blockbusters, and Japanese Godzilla monster movies have made their grandiose entrance into Taiwan’s already disordered urban aesthetic. In reality, military and commercial intelligence operatives have likely embedded themselves within Taiwan’s institutions and corporations.
This invasion extends even further through entertainment media, as virtual Western heroes penetrate our most intimate private spaces such as living room TVs, bedroom computers, smartphone screens, and even the figurine keychains dangling off young people’s backpacks. A defenseless city, and countless defenseless bodies.
The urban landscape is of course sporadically dotted with contemporary architectures typical of global metropolises. Luxury international cruise ships dock in Taiwan’s still-imperfect harbors, creating pockets of progress and respectability amid the larger state of disarray. Perhaps Taiwan has long since become a dumping ground for unchecked cultural and commercial exports.
Conclusion:
The exhibition’s three sections appear vastly different on the surface, yet at a deeper level, each section is indispensable. The monumental six-panel masterpiece highlights the disintegration of the traditional world, while the true brutality of this collapse is laid bare only in the multimedia relief sculptures, which plunges viewers into the heart of the devastation. It is only after experiencing panels 4, 5, and 6 of the hexaptych that one understands the desperate need to escape into the holographic, utopian refuge offered by the round composition. This is a fiercely critical exposé, yet it also provides remedies — ways to safeguard one’s inner peace. A powerful exhibition that resonates deeply, leaving each viewer to grapple with its implications and expand upon its themes in their own way.
