In a narrow, softly lit workshop in Taichung’s West District works Lai Hsin-you (賴信佑), the third generation in a 75-year line of Taiwanese lacquer artists. He sits at the center of a long work table topped with glass; behind his thick framed glasses, an expression of soft focus. He spreads raw, sandy-hued lacquer (漆 qī) against the glass table, adds a few drops of water, and deftly blends the mix to consistency. A small arrangement of thin rosewood rods perch upright in a wooden block before him; he selects one, dips his brush into the lacquer, and gently paints on a thin layer of lacquer, repeating this with each rod. From start to finish it takes one day to create a single layer; each layer is sanded and polished to a glossy sheen. Each following day he repeats the same process—after thirty layers and thirty days, his set of chopsticks will be complete.

Lai Hsin-you is the the grandson of Lai Gao-shan (賴高山), whom some call the father of Taiwanese lacquerware. Lacquerware was first introduced to the country by settlers from Fujian during the Qing Dynasty; it was further developed during the Japanese colonial period. The Japanese government cultivated lacquer trees in Taiwan, and Japanese lacquer master Yamanaka Tadasu (山中公 / やまなかただす) founded the Taichung Institute of Crafts Education (also known as Yamanaka Arts and Crafts Lacquer Workshop). Yamanaka pioneered a style called “Penglai lacquerware” (蓬萊塗 / ほうらいしっき); this style was absent of the typical Japanese patterns and patterns—it instead featured local scenes and patterns from Taiwan's indigenous cultures, landscapes, and flora.

Lai Gao-shan studied under Yamanaka and mastered the notoriously difficult “thousand-layer” lacquer technique, also known as tsuishitsu (堆漆) or carved lacquer (堆彩雕漆). Using this traditional technique, layers of lacquer are brushed atop one another to form a thick sheet of lacquer, each requiring at least one day of drying. The resulting sheet of lacquer can then be carved then polished until it shines with the brilliance of a diamond. A thousand layers can take a thousand days. Lai’s lacquer gift items—tea ceremony utensils, for their tea ceremony utensils, tableware and cigarette cases—became renowned in Japan. Years after his company, Kousan Craft (光山行漆器工藝) shuttered due to the rise of the plastics industry, his son Lai Zuo-ming (賴作明) returned to the craft, pursuing a different path as a fine artist, his artwork living in museums and galleries rather in homes, temples, and tea houses. Lai Zuo-ming worked diligently to revive lost lacquered pottery (漆陶) techniques, coming to call it “Taiwan-ware.” 

In 2014, the third in the generation, Lai Hsin-You returned to his family’s craft, seeking to revitalize lacquer craft in Taiwan for the modern age. His approach to the craft diverges again from the path of his father and his grandfather before him; he has returned to the functional objects of his grandfather’s work, but incorporates modern, minimal elements into the traditional craft, creating objects for today that can be easily used in contemporary life. 

“Lacquerware should be touched and used,”  Lai Hsin-you remarks. “Often the beauty of craft can only be known through its use.”

He feels that the path to sustaining and furthering lacquer craft is through guiding Taiwanese consumers to more thoughtfully consider the objects they use every day and to recognize the existing rich tradition of craft within Taiwan.

Lai’s work is beautiful, yet accessible, harmoniously balancing craft, art, and function. His latest products are lacquer-coated drinking cups made from birch, an inexpensive wood more often used for popsicle sticks. The cups are painted in deep scarlet and forest greens, and have a wonderfully light heft in the hand. They are emblematic of his mission to create lacquerware that easily folds into modern daily life: beautiful, uniquely Taiwanese objects that are a delight to experience, yet not so extravagant or too precious to use.

“Taiwanese have a less rigid tradition of craft.” Lai explains. “On one hand we have less institutional support, but we are less encumbered by the burden of a rigid tradition. With this freedom, the transformation of craftsmanship is more flexible.”

As such, Lai is an eternally experimenting, always on the search for new tools or materials to harness the potential of lacquer. Eco-friendly by nature, lacquerware requires only natural materials—tree sap, clay—and requires no heat or electricity to work with. When processed correctly it is acid, alkali, and heat resistant and durable. It is easily combined and adheres to any other material, including rice grains, egg or oyster shells, even coffee grounds, allowing the possibility of transforming ordinary materials or agricultural cast-offs. 

Lai explores how to use local materials, believing that a craftsman’s heart should be connected to their land. While the lacquer trees in Taiwan have long been supplanted by other crops due to the lack of demand, he hopes that one day farmers can be convinced that it is a viable crop again. Meanwhile, he sources other materials for his craft from within the country—the clay powder 土粉 he uses is sourced sourced from Nantou 南投 in Taiwan.

Much of Lai’s time now is spent as much as a craftsman as an evangelist of lacquer. He travels constantly around Taiwan running workshops and giving talks. He hopes that by cultivating a deeper appreciation of the traditional lacquer craft within Taiwanese people, he can pioneer a new direction for the craft and lay a foundation towards sustainability for the craft and its future artisans.  

“I hope that more people will know the beauty of this material, so that the industry can continue to grow. And, while perhaps not in my lifetime, perhaps one day we can see the lacquer trees in Taiwan again.”