Hsia's home is nestled in a quiet alley in Yungho, Taipei. In this peaceful little corner, removed from the hustle and bustle of city life, the artist fully immerses himself in his creative world. He keeps such a low profile that none of his neighbors knows that he is a painter. For most people, seventy-seven is an age when one lives an easy life and rests contentedly on one's laurels, but Hsia still works hard every day to bring his painting skills to perfection.

When asked why he decided to turn to painting when he was fifty-three years old, he related an episode which he could never forget.

Shortly before his father died, Hsia, then a fourteen-year-old junior high school student, captured first prize in a school painting competition. He rushed home to show the award to his bedridden father. His father, weak and feeble, strained to open his eyes. He could no longer find the strength to speak, but his eyes shone with pride and joy when he saw the certificate of merit in his son's hands. Two hours later, he passed away.

"I can never forget the glow in my father's eyes and the faint smile on his face." In the boy's mind, the glow seemed to mean that his father expected him to become an artist. However, after his father died, Hsia was prevented by circumstances from pursuing a painting career. It was not until he was in his fifties, when his children had all grown up, that he was able to give it a try. Although he was no longer young, he knew he owed himself a chance to prove his abilities and to fulfill his father's expectations. Better late than never.

Hsia was born in 1925 in Yantai, Shandong Province, mainland China. His grandmother, though illiterate, was talented in art and design. In addition to needlework and embroidery, she was good at making handicrafts. "She could make a red-crowned crane out of a fish's skull," Hsia said proudly. "She also designed lace patterns. The lace patterns she created were greatly liked by the foreigners who did business in Yantai. The Americans and Japanese marveled at her skill and could not believe that she had never received any training in design."

Under his grandmother's influence, Hsia developed a love for art, and he excelled in painting at an early age. Seeing his interest and gift for art, Hsia's father sent the ten-year-old boy to painter Li Ho-sheng to learn fine brushwork painting. Four years later, however, the private tutoring came to an end when the father, who was the breadwinner in the family, passed away.

"Actually, I didn't regret having to quit learning painting at that time. That tutor's teaching method was old-fashioned and rigid. I had long hoped that I could stop studying painting under him." Hsia recalled that Li once asked him to produce a painting of lotus flowers, so he created six different paintings. Yet his hard work was not appreciated at all. Instead, the teacher reproached him: "Just paint the flowers the way I taught you to. Don't be such a smart aleck."

After his private art education came to an end, Hsia was fortunate enough to meet two very good art teachers, Jen Kuang-ting and Cheng Yueh-po, in primary school and junior high school. Under their guidance, Hsia studied Chinese painting, drawing, and watercolor techniques. The teachers both encouraged him to develop his talent. One of them even recommended that he apply for the Hangchou College of Art in Zhejiang Province after he graduated from junior high. Hsia passed the entrance exam, but soon after he enrolled in the school, he had to drop out of it because of a student strike. The Sino-Japanese war (1937-1945) had ended, but there was still fighting between the Nationalist army and the Chinese Communist forces. Hsia returned to his hometown, hoping to obtain a teaching position there, only to find that the Nationalist army was forcing people to join up. Hsia's stepmother and grandmother urged him to flee. Before he left, afraid that they might not be able to see each other again, his stepmother said to him, "You must work hard to pursue your ideal. Do things you love. If you achieve anything in the future, you will have repaid us for bringing you up. That's what your grandma, grandpa, and I expect of you." That was the last time Hsia saw his family.

He went to Qingdao, Shandong Province, and taught art at an elementary school. One year later in 1949, in order to escape the increasing turmoil caused by the civil war, he came to Taiwan with the Nationalist troops.

Drawing on the strength of his previous training in art, he worked successively as an ad designer, furniture designer, and batik artist to make a living. His designs, reflective of his talent, were ingenious and creative. Some of his furniture designs were even showcased at a world fair in New York.

Years after he settled down in Taiwan, he met his junior high school art teacher, Cheng Yueh-po, who had also come to the island. Chen encouraged him to take the entrance exam to the Fine Arts Department of National Taiwan Normal University or the National Institute of the Arts in Taipei. Hsia's close friends also suggested that he give it a try. "But I didn't accept their suggestions because I didn't have the financial means and because I thought I was too old to become a university student." Hsia said that because of his hesitation, he regretfully missed many chances to study art.

Time flew by. Before he realized it, he was in his mid fifties. One day he went to an exhibition at the National Museum of History. Standing in front of a large-scale Chinese landscape painting, he was so touched that he could not utter a word. On his way back home, his mind whirled with memories. He thought of his father, stepmother, and grandmother, and what they had expected of him. He felt he had never made any real effort to prove his abilities. Should he have given up his dream before he even gave it a try? Shouldn't he attempt to do something to pay back his parents?

After talking to his wife, Ching-wen, and obtaining her full support, Hsia decided to retire from work and devote himself to painting.

At first he felt miserably lonely. With no one to guide him, he had to make his way on his own, and he had no idea what he should paint or what painting media he should work with. After reading a lot of books and information on art to gain inspiration, he found that during the May Fourth Movement (an intellectual revolution in China, which lasted broadly from 1917 to 1921), traditional values had been greatly challenged, questioned, and even rejected. Chinese society underwent a process of westernization, and things that were linked with tradition were often regarded as inferior to those that came from the West. With a sense of mission, he chose Chinese ink painting as the medium to work with.

In the first five years, he just painted aimlessly. During the process, he chanced upon an album of paintings by Kung Pan-chien (1618-1689), an early Ching Dynasty painter. He was immediately drawn to the lush, gloomy mountains, clouds, and water in his paintings. "The scenery Kung painted looks so natural," said Hsia. "There is a sense of realism in the way he depicts mountains, rocks, and trees." Hsia experimented with different techniques and studied various ways of using brush strokes to give his paintings a sense of realism and modernity. Finally he invented a technique that he called ku-pi-chiao-mo, in which he used dry brushes and dense black ink to paint his landscapes, creating a texture and feel akin to that of charcoal drawing.

Although he had developed his personal style, he was not without hesitation and doubts. He did not know whether he was going in the right direction. As luck would have it, the famous art historian and university professor, Li Chu-tsing, saw two of Hsia's paintings in an exhibition and was attracted to his style. When Li expressed his wish to see more of Hsia's works, Hsia mustered up his courage and took seventeen paintings to the professor. Li said to Hsia after closely examining the works, "There are many artists who paint well, but very few have their own distinctive style." He praised him for having established his own individual idiom and for imbuing traditional landscape painting with a new spirit. Encouraging him to keep up the good work, the professor told him never to give up under any circumstances.

Actually, Li did more than admire--he took positive action. Since they met fourteen years ago, he has written many articles to praise Hsiao's talent. Through the professor's introduction and the numerous solo exhibitions Hsiao later held, the painter's name was gradually noticed. His paintings were collected by prestigious galleries such as the Taipei Fine Arts Museum, the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Fine Arts in Kansas, and the Harvard University Museums in Massachusetts.

Li explains the reasons behind Hsia's artistic achievement. First, he is a superb craftsman with a great mastery of brush techniques that enables him to depict objects in well-wrought compositions. Second, he has very refined taste. "Each rock, mountain, tree, or plant is portrayed in the clearest and finest detail, so people feel its charm and fascination." Third, he is fully devoted to his art. In order to create a rock or mountain in his painting, he tirelessly spends days, weeks, or even months to bring it to perfection.

Li also says that roughly speaking, Hsia's paintings do not seem to differ greatly from traditional paintings. He still uses Chinese brushes, ink, and paper, and his subjects are those that we often see in traditional landscape paintings. But since he employs a wholly different technique--painting slowly with very fine, dry brushes and dark ink--his works create a completely different feeling in the viewer. The mountains and rocks in his paintings, composed of many thin fine lines, convey a sense of solidity, ruggedness, and grandeur greater than that found in most other traditional Chinese inkwash paintings. "It wasn't until after he was past fifty that Hsia began spending all his time and energy on painting," said Li, "Yet it seems as if his yearning to paint, which he had accumulated over his lifetime, was suddenly given free rein, pouring out of him to amaze all those who view his works."

Hsia is very grateful to Li for giving him so much encouragement. He says modestly that he knows there are still many problems in his paintings, but those problems motivate him to further perfect his art. He knows that at his age, there is no more time to waste. "I remember that when I won the Modern Interpretation of Ink and Color award in 1988, I went to the award ceremony to receive my prize. Since I had won first place, I was the first one to go up onto the stage. When the other two winners also came on stage and stood beside me, I felt extremely uneasy and embarrassed because they were both so young, somewhere around thirty. I felt like an old man fighting for food with two kids." But then another idea flashed across his mind. He told himself that he must push himself to work harder. He was sixty and the other winners were thirty. They had thirty more years than he to perfect their skills. There was a sure chance that they would overtake him one day. "At that moment, I made a firm resolution to make the most of time, to get the most out of the rest of my life."

The painter knows well how to spur himself on. Working with a resolute spirit, he has breathed new life into traditional Chinese painting. It is without doubt that he will scale new heights in the future. "I will never regret my decision in pursuing this lonely road. As long as people like my paintings, everything will be worth it."