We here at World Headquarters of the Society for the Belated Appreciation of Artist Peco Yeh pride ourselves on staying abreast of recent developments. By “staying abreast,” we mean, in this case, “only recently made aware.”
I refer thus to a pair of early November emails from attorney-at-law Antonia Lonquist.
In what can only be called a flippant disregard of professional norms, attorney Antonia has not filed suit against the society or me, Your New Favorite Writer.
Rather, she begs to inform us that she is the owner of this painting by our Old Favorite Painter:
“I am fascinated,” Antonia wrote on November 6, “by the different styles Peco has used in his paintings that you displayed in your post. I feel it gives my piece a new perspective to see the other styles in his works.”
As you and I know full well, Dear Reader, Mister Yeh—who held forth in Taipei in the 1960s and 1970s at least, and perhaps in other decades as well—flaunted his talent in quite a variety of different styles. His brush-strokes, composition, subject matter, and even, one might say, his basic artistic approach varied widely from one canvas to the next.
It was as if he was not satisfied to paint only one way when there was a whole world of ways to paint.
In an earlier email, Antonia explained how she came into possession of her genuine Peco Yeh painting: “My aunt was cleaning out her house this past weekend and gave me a painting my father had purchased for her some time ago while he was stationed overseas. My father was stationed in Vietnam and Cambodia during the war and would spend time on R&R in Taiwan, Thailand, and other Asian countries. He must have purchased the painting on a trip then.”
I, Dear Reader, happened to be stationed on Taiwan in 1967—possibly even at the same time Antonia’s father visited there on Rest and Recreation Leave.
It was on Chung Shan Pei Lu (Chung Shan North Road) in Taipei that I met Peco Yeh and purchased from him the painting below, which has been seen before on this site.
It’s easy to see that Antonia’s painting and mine have something in common. Both are waterscapes. Peco told me that mine represented a scene on Taipei’s local river, the Tamsui. I don’t know the fancied locale of the watery scene in Antonia’s painting, but it’s not unreasonable to think it is also the Tamsui.
In any case, it hardly matters. Each is really a universal scene. Each could depict any waterway in East Asia. The composition in Antonia’s painting is what I would call eccentric or idiosyncratic. The lighting is contrasty, the brushwork what I would call blocky. It looks like at least part of it was done not with a brush at all but with a palette knife.
Mine, on the other hand, is more traditional or even conventional in composition and brush style. It harkens back more than a thousand years to the great landscape works of the Song dynasty.
I like mine better, but there’s much to be said for Antonia’s canvas, in terms of mental challenge, frenzy, and ferment.
These two paintings exist within a spectrum of other paintings by the same artist, not all of them water scenes. If you have an interest in Peco’s work, you can see those that have come to my attention by searching “Peco Yeh” in the search box at upper right. There are, to date, five posts which have paintings by Peco.
Thanks very much to Antonia Lonquist and other correspondents who have brought forth Peco Yeh canvases for our enjoyment.
Blessings,
Larry F. Sommers
Your New Favorite Writer


