As the division of labour within the art field has gradually become more refined and professionalised, galleries—seeking clearer positioning and strategic directions—have increasingly developed roles in which curatorial work constitutes the primary responsibility. Among galleries in Taiwan, HSU Fong-Ray, who previously served as curator at Tina Keng Gallery and TKG+, is one of the relatively few figures whose role has been explicitly defined in this manner.

Through an interview with HSU Fong-Ray, this article aims to provide a reference pathway for art practitioners interested in pursuing curatorial work within gallery institutions, while also offering a closer examination of the development processes and historical conditions of mid-sized art institutions in Taiwan.

ARTouch Editorial Team
 2019.08.21

https://artouch.com/people/content-11559.html‍


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Beyond working as an independent curator or as a curator within a public institution, what other professional options are available to curators? In Taiwan, galleries that formally incorporate the role of a curator remain relatively rare. Exhibition-making has traditionally emerged through collaboration between gallery staff and artists. However, as labour within the art field has become increasingly specialised and professionalised, galleries—seeking clearer institutional positioning and strategic development—have gradually established positions in which curatorial responsibility is foregrounded.

Having served as curator at both Tina Keng Gallery and TKG+, HSU Fong-Ray represents one of the more clearly articulated examples of this role within Taiwanese galleries. His working experience at Tina Keng Gallery, a significant mid-sized art institution in Taiwan, invites closer inquiry into the processes and more nuanced working methods embedded within such organisations. Through this interview, we hope to provide a concrete reference for practitioners interested in similar career paths, while also tracing the broader development and trajectory of Taiwan’s mid-scale art institutions.

What Does It Mean to Work as a Curator within a Gallery?

After leaving art school, HSU Fong-Ray spent a period working in non-profit organisations. Like many art practitioners, he simultaneously took on freelance, self-employed work while racing against application deadlines set by the Ministry of Culture, the National Culture and Arts Foundation, and local cultural bureaus, attempting to sustain himself while continuing to realise artistic projects.

Concerns commonly shared among art workers—such as the perpetual insufficiency of state subsidies, inequitable distribution of resources, and questions of how artistic production can remain viable—have accompanied HSU Fong-Ray throughout his career. Yet regardless of where one is engaged in so-called “art work,” he argues that discussion must begin with the industry itself.

“In these processes,” HSU Fong-Ray notes, “one gradually realises that most people—including professionals—hold a rather conservative understanding of the ‘art industry.’ This understanding largely remains confined to monetary transactions and imaginaries of commodification, extending a surface-level critique of capitalism. Part of this stems from a rupture between cultural theory and social practice within academic institutions; another part arises from closed forms of collective cognition and behaviour. Under such conditions, contemporary art’s frequent claims of dismantling sacredness paradoxically become even more rigid.”

HSU Fong-Ray further observes that labour discourse within art work is often framed around narratives of absolute disadvantage: expectations that governments should bear responsibility for sustaining the art industry, assumptions of insufficient market demand, and pessimistic readings of economic performance. He argues that such narratives frequently conflate output value with industry itself.

“Output value measures performance; it is not equivalent to the definition of an industry,” he explains. “We need to reflect critically on the nature of the artistic ‘work’ we are engaged in from this perspective if we are to alter this atmosphere.”

He offers an analogy: a cup of coffee does not cease to be coffee because it sells well or poorly, whether it is hand-brewed or automated, or whether it is traded fairly or unfairly. These conditions represent interpretations produced by different market segments—producer markets, reseller markets, government markets, and institutional markets—as well as by consumer markets. Such distinctions constitute the segmentation of an industry.

The same applies to the art industry. If an artist recognised by professional communities exhibits works in a museum, gallery, café, abandoned factory, or on the street, the change in location does not alter the meaning of the artwork itself. What changes are the interpretations and forms of activity generated through different spaces, institutions, and contexts.

For HSU Fong-Ray, working within a gallery entails clearly recognising an institution’s characteristics, constraints, and challenges within the broader industry, allowing the work undertaken by different institutions to be compared and critically reflected upon rather than rigidly segregated. Whether working in a gallery, museum, or non-profit organisation, he sees no fundamental difference: “At the institutional level, the underlying logic is largely the same; what differs are the situations encountered and the perspectives from which they are approached.”

Tina Keng Gallery as a Mid-Sized Art Institution: Conditions, Constraints, and Advantages

HSU Fong-Ray notes that discussions of institutional scale are surprisingly rare within the art field, as are considerations of what can be achieved within a given scale and which markets an institution actually engages. Large institutions are often necessary for participation in global competition, which demands extensive resources, economies of scale, and the feedback mechanisms they generate. Such complexity requires standardised organisational divisions of labour, yet large-scale organisations often suffer from inefficiencies arising from excessive hierarchical layering.

Small institutions, by contrast, benefit from flatter organisational structures that enhance creativity and flexibility. However, access to resources remains their greatest challenge. In striving for survival, they often end up reproducing the very structures they initially sought to critique.

Drawing on his own experience, HSU Fong-Ray describes mid-sized institutions as occupying an in-between position: they inherit advantages from both ends of the spectrum while simultaneously absorbing all associated problems. “These issues are reconfigured across four parameters—business scale, organisational structure, institutional objectives, and market value. Mid-sized institutions may appear to possess enviable resources, yet they also face a far more complex set of hybrid challenges.”

Using Tina Keng Gallery as an example, HSU Fong-Ray proposes separating the discussion into two dimensions: one concerning industrial structures shaped by family enterprise under private ownership, and another addressing broader, general conditions faced by art institutions. Distinguishing between these dimensions, he argues, allows for a more precise understanding of this institutional case.

Family enterprises, under private ownership, represent one of the oldest organisational forms in history. Structured around kinship and marital relations, family members hold ownership and control while participating in both management and the redistribution of surplus capital, profit, and power. This does not inherently render family enterprises inefficient; their longevity attests to certain structural advantages. However, under the logic of generational succession, the establishment of corporate culture—its core values and behavioural norms—becomes critical. These values underpin institutional systems, strategic decisions, and succession itself. Without a coherent organisational ethos, accumulated professional expertise may erode rapidly, and enterprises risk being phased out within contemporary society.

Secondly, the limited resources of the art industry mean that most organisations remain small and relatively flat. While such structures excel in horizontal collaboration, they struggle when confronted with vertical decision-making and responsibility. Members of small organisations often lack opportunities for vertical mobility, making it difficult to gain experience in long-term institutional planning, decision-making, and accountability, let alone to develop an internal understanding of working within mid- or large-scale organisations.

As a result, many practitioners remain confined to outsider perspectives. This limitation extends beyond horizontal-versus-vertical integration to include challenges in organisational management, leadership philosophy, and crisis assessment. A common misconception equates institutional scale solely with budget size and headcount, revealing deeper constraints in organisational thinking.

The prevailing condition, HSU Fong-Ray observes, is that many small and mid-sized institutions operate at a mid-scale volume of activity without establishing organisational structures appropriate to that scale. Over time, this produces individuals highly skilled in solo operations, while professionals capable of horizontal communication and vertical integration remain scarce.

Regardless of scale, HSU Fong-Ray argues that institutions must begin with a clearly articulated mission and vision. Within a realistic understanding of available resources, institutions should define short-, mid-, and long-term objectives, alongside mechanisms for operational cost recovery and sustainability. Such a framework enables both market differentiation and internal evaluation, allowing institutions not only to sustain themselves but also to establish stop-loss points and initiate organisational reform.

“The irony,” he notes, “is that while this framework is simple, it is rarely implemented. Many Taiwanese institutions operate under the assumption that once something begins, it must continue indefinitely. Under such conditions, periodic organisational transformation becomes extremely difficult—yet absolutely essential.”

From Horizontal Communication to the Establishment of Vertical Systems

When discussing internal structures, HSU Fong-Ray elaborates on his understanding of institutional systems: “If systems constitute the framework, management is the driving force. The two exist in a dynamic relationship. It is through this process that institutional ethics and culture are produced. Clearly, I have not done this well enough.”

Institutions, he reflects, are microcosms of society. Even when unacknowledged, they reproduce defeatism, seniority-based conservatism, and imaginaries of promotion and power. Organisations often call for standard operating procedures without a shared sense of direction. Rather than system-building per se, much of his effort has been directed toward dismantling entrenched organisational cultures and generating more democratic modes of communication. “It may sound utopian,” he admits, “but such mechanisms have indeed existed—albeit briefly.”

Working within a private institution, HSU Fong-Ray recognises the necessity of acting as a bridge—not only between artists and the institution in terms of production, but more critically between institutional leadership and gallery staff, with exhibition quality and organisational sustainability as guiding priorities.

“This often feels like a tug-of-war, with my left and right hands pulled by different groups,” he reflects. “The emotional labour involved is far greater than I anticipated. Only by understanding what leaders, artists, and institutional members truly care about can meaningful mediation occur.”

Drawing on his experience in small organisations, he introduced alternative values of artistic production into the gallery context. Compromise was inevitable, yet compromise did not equate to abandoning principles. Rather, it involved creating conditions that could benefit multiple parties—conditions that might give rise to a new institutional organism.

The professionalisation of family enterprises has been discussed for over a decade. Taiwan’s gallery sector is currently undergoing a generational transition, the outcomes of which remain to be seen. Compared with international galleries that have operated across three generations, the question persists: is professionalisation constrained by local conditions, or is it a reality the industry has been reluctant to confront? This, too, reflects broader challenges faced by Taiwan’s small and medium-sized enterprises.

The Role of the Curator within a Gallery Organisation

Prior to HSU Fong-Ray’s appointment at TKG+, formal curatorial positions were virtually nonexistent within Taiwanese galleries. Given the prevalence of family enterprise structures, this condition is perhaps unsurprising. Galleries function as nodes within the art industry’s economic circulation, and all participants form part of this chain. Consequently, the figure of the gallery head—whether referred to as artistic director, curator, or owner—often serves as a proxy for personal taste and positioning.

When reconsidering the question of what curators can contribute within gallery institutions, HSU Fong-Ray identifies two key dimensions. One involves re-examining ideological divisions between market and academia, drawing lessons from the historical relationship between galleries and museums during Western avant-garde movements of the 1960s, as well as from the development of biennials and art fairs. The other concerns transitional experiments in professionalisation within family enterprises—processes that may not always be consciously articulated yet hold significant implications for the art industry.

From a pragmatic perspective, HSU Fong-Ray asks: “If a gallery can refine or add value to products it has sold for decades, expand diversity, align with contemporary cultural conditions, and see these efforts reflected in actual sales returns, why not pursue it?”

For artists, he argues, the presence of a curator can introduce productive stimulus and tension into otherwise static modes of collaboration, where exhibitions may occur only once every year or two. A solo exhibition should not merely present changes across a period of production; it may also reveal insights overlooked under the pressure of preparation—insights that could function as critical components within a broader cultural mechanism.

Reflecting on his own position within the gallery, HSU Fong-Ray acknowledges that curatorial collaboration cannot extend to every gallery artist. Constraints arise both from personal capacity and from organisational division of labour. Serving concurrently as curator of TKG+ and manager at Tina Keng Gallery, the time available for curatorial engagement is necessarily shaped by institutional priorities, while remaining limitations stem from human resource and scale constraints.

From the perspective of gallery staff, HSU Fong-Ray reiterates that although everyone may be engaged in administrative labour, differences in positional understanding persist. Approaching exhibition production from a curatorial perspective constitutes one such difference. This process, he emphasises, must involve growing together with colleagues who actively reflect on exhibitions, introducing forms of thinking and institutional culture that have long been absent from formal production structures.

Ultimately, HSU Fong-Ray concludes that the significance of this case lies in breaking through the constraints outlined throughout this discussion, fostering greater communication and circulation within Taiwan’s art ecosystem—whether in terms of institutional resources or human capital. Only through such agency can entrenched mechanisms begin to shift.