Grandmother’s Paper-cutting Legacy

Prepared by Peter Lichang Kuo

The sound of light spring rain can be heard outside the window, and in the blink of an eye, one-tenth of 2025 has passed. Every year during the Chinese Lunar New Year, I always think of my grandmother, because February is the month when she was beaten into disability by the police. I am writing this article to commemorate my grandmother, and I have also composed a poem as follows:

Grandmother’s Little Scissors,

The handle is chubby, the blade small,

Cutting out characters, birds, beasts, insects, and fish,

Cutting out the vastness of her life’s hardships.

Grandmother’s Little Scissors,

Carving through the blood and tears of the Kuo family,

Suffering for righteousness, trampled and ravaged,

Losing her husband, sons, and properties.

Grandmother’s Little Scissors,

Cannot sever the rampant corruption,

Cannot stop the lingering sorrow,

Cannot return the lost glory.

Grandmother puts down her little scissors,

Her frail hands lift the remaining broth,

Looking up to the sky in silent gratitude,

The paper-cutting legacy transforms into “Cheng-Kuang.”

Fig 1: Paper cutting is art

My grandmother, Kuo Chen Shu-Jean (1896-1970), could create a variety of exquisitely detailed characters, birds, beasts, insects, and fish, just by picking up a small pair of scissors with a large handle and short blade. She would attach them to silk and cloth to make festive decorations, earning money to feed the family. With her bound feet, my grandmother would hunch over her frail body, painstakingly cutting paper on a wooden bed to earn a living. The main reason for this was that my father (referred to as A-Kun) was unwilling to work, my mother (referred to as A-Jin) had no earning ability, and with six children, food was scarce. So, my grandmother had no choice but to care for her grandchildren while tirelessly cutting paper, hoping to provide a meal for the family.

Fig 2: Grandmother and her paper-cutting scissors

I once discussed with an artist friend: "Was my grandmother an elderly woman who made a living from paper cutting, or was she an artist?" Someone mentioned that Van Gogh had once painted to make a living, and he is undoubtedly considered an artist. Of course, my grandmother was also an artist—she used the visual reflection from her eyes, passing through the small scissors in her hands, and what appeared outwardly was internalized to the point that she could create lifelike works of art. This fully aligns with the traits of an artist.

The characteristics of an artist can be summarized as follows:

1. Creativity and Craftsmanship — The Core Qualities of an Artist:

An artist is able to create intricate characters, birds, beasts, insects, and fish with a small pair of scissors, and attach them to silk to make festive decorations to sell. This requires not only exceptional craftsmanship but also a high level of aesthetic ability and creativity. The mastery of details and understanding of artistic forms goes beyond mere manual labor and reaches the level of artistic creation.

2. Delicacy and Perseverance:

Paper cutting is not just a form of decoration; it carries cultural and aesthetic significance. The art of creating festive decorations with paper cutting is a traditional form of art in our culture, rich in symbolic meaning. Such works are not merely utilitarian objects, but pieces of art with cultural value, capable of being passed down and influencing future generations. Despite difficult circumstances, my grandmother remained focused and meticulous in her cutting, ensuring that the works held value. This greatly influenced my ability to craft fine parts and create business opportunities with American companies as early as 1966.

3. Folk Artists and Their Connection to Life:

Many great artists, especially folk artists, initially created for a livelihood. For example, the painter Vincent van Gogh painted to survive. Though he lived in poverty, he is now regarded as a master of art. My grandmother used paper cutting to support her family and was not defeated by her environment. Her works, filled with artistic value to bring joy, are no different from those created by artists who work purely for artistic creation.

4. Influence and Legacy:

Although my grandmother's works did not reach a broader art market, within our family and community, her paper cutting represented the continuation of a culture. Watching her cut paper to support her family, I played the role of a small delivery boy, learning the importance of trade, which later allowed me to change the fate of the Kuo family after I took charge. If her skills and works had been documented or passed down, it would have been a significant contribution to folk art. Therefore, in the future, the first prize of the "Art Olympics" will be planned as the "Paper Cutting Art Award," allowing more people in the age of artificial intelligence to recognize this precious traditional art form!

Analyzing the Artistic Nature of Paper Cutting

Paper cutting is a part of both "Folk Art" and "Visual Art." The key reasons for this are summarized as follows:

1. Creativity and Aesthetic Value:

Paper cutting is a form of "Visual Art" expression, showcasing beauty through intricate cuts, hollowing, and symmetrical design. Paper cutting works often feature themes like people, animals, flowers, and auspicious symbols (or fonts), conveying aesthetic value and artistic emotion. Reaching this level of artistry certainly requires talent and skill.

2. Cultural and Historical Value:

With a history that dates back over two thousand years (around the Han Dynasty), paper cutting is not just a manual craft but also carries rich cultural symbolism. In China, for instance, paper cutting is commonly used to express joy (such as during the Spring Festival or weddings), prayers for blessings, and religious beliefs, thus holding significant cultural and historical value.

3. Technique and Craftsmanship:

Paper cutting requires exceptional craftsmanship. The artist must skillfully use scissors or carving tools, with the mind and hand working in harmony to create delicate and unique works. Techniques like "Negative Cutting" (cutting away the background to leave the image) or "Positive Cutting" (cutting out the image itself) are employed. This shares similarities with other art forms, such as sculpture or printmaking.

4. Diversity in Expression:

Paper cutting is not only an independent art form, but it also merges with architecture, fashion, design, and stage settings, forming cross-disciplinary artistic creations. For example, many modern artists apply paper cutting in installation art, contemporary illustration, and even develop "Digital Papercut Art."

5. International Recognition:

In 2009, paper cutting was recognized by UNESCO as part of the "Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity." This further proves paper cutting's international status in the fields of art and culture. If my grandmother's works had been preserved, they would have significantly enriched Taiwan's cultural heritage.

In summary, paper cutting is not just a craft, but a unique art form that blends aesthetics, culture, technique, and creativity. Like painting, sculpture, and design, it has a far-reaching influence. Therefore, we can clearly state: "Paper cutting is definitely an art form worth promoting."

The Story of the Kuo Family

A-Kun was a craftsman of extraordinary talent, but his AB-type romantic personality made him often unaware of the consequences. In 1950, when Chiang Kai-shek came to Taiwan to capture communist-spies, A-Kun fully committed to rescuing one such spy, which led to an inexplicable 13-year lawsuit. Unwilling to learn Mandarin, A-Kun had to confront a formidable enemy. Luckily, in the early stages of the lawsuit, a lawyer named "Li Mo" helped him. Later, Mr. Li Mo passed the public exam and went to study at Harvard University in the United States. A-Kun was left in a desperate situation, and he became quite strange—whenever he received a summons, his face would turn pale, and he would slump in a corner, swearing loudly, then go out to find someone to take away all the equipments he used to make a living. When the family faced hunger, only grandmother’s little scissors became the sole way for the family to survive.

A-Kun once tried to train his oldest son to use pliers to seal the belt's top pin, but no matter how the child tried, it couldn’t be done. In frustration, he slapped him and scolded, "Stupider, useless thing!" His second son—me—picked up the pliers and quickly made a bunch of top pins. His eyes lit up, and from then on, father and son played together, running from Chong-An Street to Shakariba, playing at A-Kun's older sister's Tian Yuan Fabric Shop. My aunt was also my godmother. Every time she brought us food, she would also slip me a fifty-cent coin.

As a child, people often brought red and gold paper—sometimes even from "Tian Yuan Fabric Shop." Grandmother would take her little scissors, cut and cut, and in the dim light, she quickly attached a large stack of characters and auspicious symbols to cloth to make festive decorations. The next day, they might be used by a family celebrating a wedding, and after sending off the decorations, there would be a small income. With this, grandmother could ask Aunt Bao-Chu to help buy some vegetables and rice, so that there was some food on the empty table to feed her grandchildren.

Lying on the wooden bed, I watched as grandmother folded a red sheet of paper, and with a few cuts from her scissors, she opened it up to reveal a "character"—a complex and auspicious word. I thought I am good at using pliers and able to help her cut paper by scissors, but after hearing her explanation, no matter how I tried, I just made useless scraps. That was when I realized that what seemed like a simple paper cut actually required talent, and I didn’t have the gift for "fine work." I could only train myself in "rough work" such as using a file, hammer, or drill.

In early 1965, Mr. K.T. Li from the US Aid Association was appointed Minister of Economic Affairs, and the "China Daily News" in Tainan reported: "Minister K.T. Li is filling land in Kaohsiung’s Cianjhen district and bringing in American investment." I may have been the most attentive person in Taiwan to this news. So, I hastened to refine my skills. By the time I graduated from Park Primary School in June, I was already capable of independently making precision progressive dies of deep-drawing, creating suitable automatic feeding mechanisms, assembling automated equipment, and producing fine "Eyelets" required for electronic products.

Unfortunately, no one came to buy, and the family still had to rely on grandmother’s little scissors to make a living.

Despite the lack of resources, grandmother continued to cut paper, scraping together money to send my eldest brother for extra lessons, hoping that her oldest grandson could enter junior high school. Sadly, that hope was dashed. But I, in the “Let-Go Class” (no longer going to junior high school) was suddenly called by the usually snobbish teacher Chiu Sen-Ran to participate in the junior high entrance exam—he paid the registration fee on the condition that I "must go take the exam." Somehow, I passed and was admitted to a public junior high. Mr. Chiu was so pleased that he gave me an English dictionary as a gift.

Seeing that my oldest brother had failed to enter-- even any private school after two years of entrance exams, grandmother called me over and said, "A-Chang, you don’t have an ID card yet. Would you let your old brother go to school instead?" That year, a private school named Cheng Guang Junior High opened, and they accepted students without exams. Grandmother's idea was then forgotten.

Unexpectedly, just one month into junior high, A-Kun dragged me out, threw away my schoolbag, and fled to Kaohsiung, because he received a judgment of losing the case. He was unwilling to accept it—especially the prospect of imprisonment. When we arrived in Kaohsiung, we rented a house at 16 Chong Hsing Street, behind the National Market. Since A-Kun and A-Jin were never home, I had to take charge of the household, earn money to cover all expenses, and take care of my two younger brothers.

The Story of 1966 Chinese Lunar New Year

In the Lunar New Year of 1966, the red lanterns were hanging high outside, but the house was quiet and desolate inside. A-Kun talked to me for the whole night, saying how much he missed grandmother and wanted to return to Tainan to visit her. Before he left, he told me, "If Papa is gone, this family is your responsibility!" He returned to 45 Chong An Street, only to be arrested by four strong policemen. Handcuffed and shackled, he was to be dragged to Chen Gong Road. My foot-bound grandmother begged the police, but all she heard was, "Damn!" The police pulled her roughly, and she fell from the steps onto the small alley of Chong-An Street, breaking her ankles. From then on, she could never stand again, and she could no longer pick up her little scissors to cut paper and make a living.

That night, A-Jin came to Chong Hsing Street in Kaohsiung and took all the money I earned, even emptying the rice jar to take back to Tainan. So, I had to make a water-injection syringe for Chen, the owner of the duck meat stall at the National Market, and started helping him with the shady job of injecting water into the duck carcasses. I earned several times more than an ordinary worker, so that A-Jin could take the money back to Tainan to support the family. Fortunately, someone bought small oil lamps, and the NTD 5,000 I received was handed over to A-Jin. Then, someone bought a "Swastika" (卍) ring, and the NTD 5,000 was once again given to A-Jin.

The market was off for one day, I rushed back to Tainan and found grandmother's bed full of urine smell. My fourth younger brother was lying beside the bed, with a face bruised and swollen. My third younger brother was nowhere to be found. When I returned to Kaohsiung, I started organizing the furniture at the sugarcane board factory and called a truck to move it back to Tainan. Family reunion was always better than splitting up between two places.

When taking care of grandmother, I found her body was very light; because A-Jin had ordered that she must eat only “vegetarian food,” and grandmother accepted without saying a word. However, it was strange that even though I was not yet 13, it seemed like my mind was filled with grandmother's clever ideas, and my hands became increasingly skillful. The "Cheng Kuang Metal Works" that I brought back from Kaohsiung never lacked orders, but there was never enough money. Every night, after my silent prayers, I would write in a blank notebook: "If there truly is a Heavenly Father, as grandmother spoke of, please send me a decent customer."

Sure enough, not long afterward, I stood out among many competitors. The fine "Eyelets" I personally made were the only ones that passed the stringent requirements and were accepted by American firm. It was said that my product was "Top Secret," and later it was revealed that it was used in the Apollo rocket. Starting in 1967, our family began living a prosperous life, but the greatest regret was that "the feet grandmother broke when she was beaten by the police could never be healed."

Building First House on Park Road

In 1969, I built the first house for the Kuo family, 32 years after our family was overthrown. It was located at Alley 451, Park Road. I divided the second floor into a "田" shape—three large rooms and a big living room. The room on the southeast side was specially partitioned into one-third of the space, intending it for grandmother to live in, so that the most filial A-Kun could take care of her. But A-Jin scolded me, saying, "That old woman doesn't have long to live, just leave her at Chong An Street." After repeated negotiations, A-Jin finally allowed me to bring grandmother to the house on Park Road in a three-wheeled cart—but she could only stay in the corner of my studio (working place).

For over a year, until grandmother passed away on October 25, 1970, she was by my side every day. Whenever it was late at night and I was still preparing materials for the next day's work after night school, grandmother would often talk about her 27 years as the head of the household, and the prosperous times of my grandfather, Kuo Biao, and his company, “He-Mei Trading”—an empire that seemed so distant and unreachable.

Grandmother never expressed any resentment about the huge family fortune lost, the betrayal of the servants, or the unfilial behavior of her daughters-in-law. However, every time I helped her sit up, I would notice her staring at the door in a daze. One time, with tears in her eyes, she said, "What I can't let go of is your uncle, Kun-Yu. The Japanese said he died in the war, but they never sent anything back. A-Chang, you must find your uncle and bury him beside me." It turned out that she was most concerned about her son, who had been forcibly conscripted by the Japan's army to fight and died in the war of Papua New Guinea.

I once met Shinzo Abe at an APEC Summit and mentioned my uncle, Kuo Kun-Yu. He promised to help, but nothing came of it. Nevertheless, my wife and I did everything we could to obtain my uncle's military registration number and eventually brought his spirit back to Fuguinanshan (A Columbarium in Tainan), where he could rest beside grandmother.

Conclusion

When I advocated the "Art Olympics" (Art-O), the first award I thought of was the "Papercutting Art Award"—hoping it could commemorate grandmother's perseverance in difficult times. Her spirit moved the heavens and earth, giving me the ability to establish "Cheng-Kuang Precision Industry Co., Ltd." in 1974, and having the opportunity to create Taiwan's precision industry. Her spirit also inspired my wife, Linda Din who invented the "Contactless TranSmart Chip" and created the "E-Commerce System," bringing a brand new 21st century to humanity. Hoping that "Art-O" also to illuminate the brilliance of humanity in the age of artificial intelligence.

In conclusion, grandmother, Kuo Chen Shu-Jean's papercutting art, not only supported a struggling family but also unknowingly forged the fine craftsmanship of future generations. She used a small pair of scissors to carve out a livelihood, and I inherited her perseverance and attention to detail, moving from a hammer, drill, and steel saw to the path of creating the precision industry. From papercutting to microchips, from survival to innovation, grandmother's spirit transcends time and space, influencing technological development. Through the electronic store system and non-contact smart chips, it has driven the global development of e-commerce and micro-enterprises, continuing to change the world today.

Grandmother's small scissors,
Cut out blood and tears,
Cut out the spring breeze,
From withered trees, new sprouts emerge,
The new sprouts bloom and bear fruit,
Deeply influencing the generations to come.

Peter Lichang Kuo, the author created Taiwan's Precision Industry in his early years. Peter was a representative of the APEC CEO Summit and an expert in the third sector. He advocated "anti-corruption (AC)/cashless/e-commerce (E-Com)/ICT/IPR/IIA-TES / Micro-Business (MB)…and etc." to win the international bills and regulations.