DIPTYCH DIALOGUES
Through the beautiful language of diptychs, Taiwanese photographer Jay Hsu invites us into a world where quiet images speak of memory, resilience, and hope.
September 21, 2025
INTERVIEW
PHOTOGRAPHY Jay Hsu
INTERVIEW Karen Ghostlaw Pomarico
This interview offers an opportunity to explore the quiet power of diptychs through the work of Taiwanese photographer and educator Jay Hsu. Known for his poetic and contemplative approach to photography, Jay has developed a distinctive voice that reveals itself in the thoughtful pairing of images. His diptychs do not simply mirror or contrast, they create a dialogue. The elements within each frame take on life and meaning, working together to form a complex narrative. Beyond the surface, deeper themes of ideology, emotion, and memory emerge, enriching the story told by the images. Through careful pairing and subtle connections in shape, tone, and feeling, he creates visual relationships that reveal themselves slowly and invite thoughtful reflection.
Jay’s journey into photography began as a deeply personal exploration, a way to find calm and meaning amid life’s challenges. “Photography was a medium for my own inner exploration,” he writes, “a pause, a lifesaving deep breath.” But after the birth of his daughter and a deepening of his Christian faith, his creative path shifted. “The very essence of my photography moved from self-exploration to a connection with people. This connection is one of goodness and light, even in a world that can feel broken and disappointing.”
Over time, this philosophy expanded beyond image making into a broader mission rooted in education and community. As project leader of Shining Hope, a photography-based learning program for children in rural Taiwan, Jay now helps young people “see with intention and express their experiences with honesty and care.” His work as a mentor is deeply linked to his personal creative vision, and he lives, in his own words, “to publish, explore, and educate, to provide freedom and bring influence to children in rural and underprivileged communities.”
At the heart of his work lies the diptych, a visual form Jay calls “the perfect medium to illustrate relationships.” What once began as a symbolic pairing of objects has become a more intuitive and graceful language. “I later discovered a new, delightful, and clever way to create by subtly linking and extending lines, shapes, and colors. This method allows for a seamless flow, mirroring the journey of life, from chaos to peace, from poverty to abundance, from darkness to light.”
In this conversation, Jay Hsu shares how this way of seeing became central to his practice, how diptychs allow him to explore emotional and visual continuity, and how photography continues to shape his understanding of beauty, resilience, and hope. His story is quiet and clear, and grounded in the belief that “even when things fall apart, we can still maintain goodness, hold onto our childlike innocence, and embrace a bright and hopeful future.”
“At present, my works are almost always drawn from past photographs, reconnected in new ways. Of course, each moment of shooting carries its own emotions. But when two photos, each with its own mood, are placed together, a new flow of emotions emerges — something shaped by time and continuity — becoming the emotion of the present moment.”
IN CONVERSATION WITH
JAY HSU
TPL: Your journey into photography began as a personal exploration as a kind of pause or life-saving deep breath, as you’ve described it. Can you share more about that time in your life? What were you seeking, and what did the act of making images begin to offer you that words or other forms of expression could not?
JAYE: I became a Christian in 2006. Before that, in my twenties, I was in a stage of exploring my interests, ambitions, self-growth, and self-worth. At that time, I was sentimental, quiet, melancholic, yet also full of pride. With the money I earned from part-time jobs, I bought my first digital camera, a Canon IXUS100, and took pictures everywhere—inside my room, on the streets, in the mountains, and by the sea.
I think there were many complicated thoughts within me then. Besides writing, I discovered that photographs, like short poems, could carry many thoughts and emotions, even states of being that words could not fully describe. Photography became an open space, a refuge, a temporary deep breath. It might not have solved my problems, but it allowed me to store away my restlessness, melancholy, and turmoil for a while, giving my life some breathing room so I could move forward to the next stage.
TPL: You’ve moved across many genres, including documentary, street, wedding, landscape, and conceptual photography. How did those varied experiences inform the way you now see, compose, and tell stories? Were there moments when those different practices overlapped or challenged each other in unexpected ways?
JAY: I’m someone who enjoys being different and who also enjoys learning. When I first started photography, I studied all kinds of techniques and tried various styles. Later, when I felt stuck in terms of form, I began to explore the essence and meaning of photography itself. Now, at 48, I’m grateful for every stage of learning. None of it was wasted — they all became nourishment for my life.
Technical skills and equipment are secondary. What mattered most was how learning across genres and theories taught me to observe and reflect on life, and to express it through my preferred creative approach. Sometimes documentary overlapped with wedding photography, conceptual photography intertwined with street shots, or the essence of photography merged with sequencing images, or diptychs combined with minimalist negative space. These practices reflect my love of being different and my belief that life is a continuous, exciting journey forward.
TPL: At some point, your personal exploration shifted into something more focused on community, especially after becoming a father and a Christian. How did that transformation take shape, and in what ways has it deepened your sense of purpose as a photographer?
JAY: I believe my Christian faith was the main reason for this transformation. Throughout life, people keep asking: Who am I? What am I pursuing? Why am I alive? Where will I go after death? These questions about the self-found their answers in my faith.
Becoming a husband and father also naturally shifted my focus from myself to caring for my wife, daughter, and others. Once my heart was filled with God’s love, I naturally wanted to give and contribute, hoping to make the world a little brighter and kinder. Even if my influence is small, light is made of countless small sparks gathered together. To be one of those sparks already feels wonderful.
TPL: Diptychs have become a defining element of your visual language. You’ve spoken about their ability to express relationships, not just between images but between ideas, emotions, and spiritual concepts. What makes this format so powerful for you, and how do you know when two images belong together?
In short: it’s fun! I enjoy playful forms of creation. I first learned about diptychs when I took further photography courses, and I thought: Oh, photography can also be presented this way. Since I’ve always loved duplication, re-creation, and collage, this format of pairing two images to express an idea suited me perfectly.
I truly admire photographers who can capture multiple visual elements and relationships in a single frame — the dialogue between objects or symbols. But I knew I didn’t always have the time to wait for a “decisive moment,” nor the instinctive “photographic eye” for it. So instead, I leaned into my own strengths and preferred ways of expression. There’s no need to be like everyone else — I can still communicate what I want in my own way.
As for knowing when two images belong together, it depends on my life experience, my present state of being, and the worldview I want to convey. Often, I’ll first pick one image that moves me deeply in that moment, then close my eyes and imagine which other photo could best express the idea I want to convey. Finally, I’ll look for connections in lines, shapes, or colors from my existing archive. Sometimes inspiration strikes unexpectedly — in the shower or while driving — because I already know my own photo collection well. (That said, I often revise my diptychs. The next day, I might find another image that pairs even better, and I’ll replace it.)
TPL: You mention that you moved from illustrating symbols and object relationships to linking elements like lines, shapes, and colors with transitions that feel playful and intuitive. Can you take us into that shift in your visual thinking? How did you begin seeing these connections, and how do they inform your sequencing?
JAY: Simply put, I wanted my work to be more accessible — to be seen and understood by a wider audience. Academic art can often feel difficult for the general public to grasp without training in visual language or photography theory. My motivation wasn’t fame or personal gain, but rather to use my work to convey goodness and spark resonance — to let people know that even in the darkest times, they can still shine.
But for that message to be heard, the work must first be seen — it must catch people’s eyes in the flood of images on social media. To create that visual pause, the work needed to stand out in a unique way. By coincidence, I encountered the works of photographer Joakim Moller, and they left me with a sense of ‘visual lingering’ (a form of persistence of vision that lingers in one’s perception). I was struck by how masterfully he could join two photographs together, creating a profound aesthetic shock for the eye while also carrying layers of meaning. That encounter inspired me to try it myself, and in doing so I discovered a genuine interest and passion, with the work also receiving considerable resonance from viewers.
This formal shift didn’t change my sequencing process too much. The core concept of the work still comes first. What changed is that finding two images that link well is more challenging than presenting a single photo—but at the same time, it’s much more fun.
TPL: Your work carries a strong emotional undercurrent that holds both light and melancholy. How do belief, memory, and emotional resonance shape the narratives you build within a pair of images? Do you seek out particular moods when shooting, or do they emerge during the editing process?
JAY: When it comes to belief, memory, and emotional resonance, to be honest, I can’t precisely explain how they interact, connect, and build a story — after all, these things have already been internalized within my heart and soul. But I am grateful for the moments of melancholy and pain, because they refined my life and now contrast or echo with the light I experience today. It’s precisely because of those experiences that my work has depth and carries stories.
At present, my works are almost always drawn from past photographs, reconnected in new ways. Of course, each moment of shooting carries its own emotions. But when two photos, each with its own mood, are placed together, a new flow of emotions emerges — something shaped by time and continuity — becoming the emotion of the present moment.
Even if my influence is small, light is made of countless small sparks gathered together. To be one of those sparks already feels wonderful.
TPL: You’ve described your images as a movement from chaos to peace, from darkness to light. That is both a visual and philosophical journey. How do you hold space for both beauty and brokenness in your work, and what does it mean to you to create within that tension?
JAY: Acceptance. I think it’s about accepting the beautiful parts of myself, but also the broken ones. Through creating, it becomes not only a reflection on my own life but also a way of sharing my life perspective and philosophy with others — perhaps with those who are also going through brokenness, or those who are stepping into beautiful seasons of life. Pain can be overcome, and the nourishment pain gives will eventually nurture love and light. Even if the light is small, it can still drive away darkness and make the darkness tremble.
TPL: Your diptychs invite viewers to slow down and observe carefully. There is a quiet clarity in your compositions, but also a sense of layers waiting to be uncovered. How do you balance visual simplicity with conceptual depth? What does it mean to you for a photo to speak beyond what is seen?
JAY: Practice — continuous practice — and looking at many good photographs. Just like writing, everything begins with imitation. Then, as you add your own life experiences and philosophy, those once-imitated words or images gradually take on your own style and creativity.
Balancing visual simplicity with conceptual depth is something I only came to understand after studying courses in visual language, photographic art, and the essence of photography. It’s about learning how to arrange, how to suggest meaning through metaphor.
Of course, creating diptychs as collages — finding visual balance and playfulness — is not so difficult. But deciding which two photos to choose, and what meaning emerges when they are paired — that is where the real subtlety and significance lie. When I succeed in making a work that speaks beyond what is seen, it means my life has depth, and I am ready to share with others a message of beauty that is mine yet also belongs to them.
TPL: Your role as project leader for SHINING HOPE marks a significant shift in your career, from personal creator to educator and mentor. What inspired you to formalize this work, and how has your approach to teaching photography evolved since your early days volunteering for Children Eye?
JAY: It’s a long story, but to put it simply — the answer is calling. This sense of calling comes from my Christian faith, and it arose after I truly came to know myself and understand my self-worth. It grew alongside my daughter’s growth. The photos I took of her touched many people’s hearts, and I realized for the first time that photographs can have real impact.
Later, I traveled with World Vision Taiwan to Uganda and documented children in the slums. That experience deepened my conviction that children’s education and companionship are crucial — because children are the foundation and hope of the future.
So, I made a decisive choice to resign from my church job, move my family to the countryside (to be closer to rural communities), and take on the photography program that was about to be discontinued, stepping into the role of project leader. Transitioning from volunteer to leader meant my teaching became more careful and thorough. I wanted to use photography education not only to teach skills, but also to accompany children, build their confidence, cultivate good character, and help them know and take pride in their hometowns.
At that time, Taiwan had very few photography education programs for children, let alone well-developed curricula. So, I referenced international teaching resources (such as Aperture), local art education plans, and children’s picture books that told stories through images. I also pursued further studies in photography and art. After many revisions, I developed the curriculum we have today. It is collaborative and interdisciplinary, designed together with schoolteachers, and integrates art, language, social studies, and science — a holistic, theme-based approach.
TPL: You have said that your mission is to provide freedom and bring influence to children in rural communities through visual storytelling. What kind of transformation do you witness in students as they begin to tell their own stories with a camera? Can you share a moment or student that particularly moved you?
JAY: Although it looks like we’re teaching photography, in truth it’s more like life education — and so there are countless stories. One that left a deep impression was a girl I’ll call Xiao-Fan. When she was in sixth grade, she confided to a teacher that she had suicidal thoughts. But after learning photography, she shared with her teacher that whenever she felt down, she would pick up her camera and photograph the sky. Watching the constantly changing blue sky lifted her mood.
Even after our program at her school ended, she kept photographing the sky. By ninth grade, she held her first solo exhibition at Share & Cultural & Creative Café. Among her works, her favorite piece was called Soft and Fluffy, featuring clouds that looked like cotton candy. In her artist statement, she wrote: “I think everyone needs something soft and fluffy — maybe a stuffed toy, a pillow, or a cat — because soft things can heal the wounds of every person’s heart.”
TPL: You have compared your creative process to the feeling of enjoying a child’s drawing, embracing playful, intuitive, and full of surprise. How do you maintain that sense of openness in your own work, especially while also teaching structure and technique to others?
JAY: My ability to maintain a sense of playfulness, intuition, and surprise in photography really comes from working in education — leading rural children in photography and creating alongside them. To be precise, it’s more about recovering a childlike way of observing and creating.
I’m also very grateful to my own photography teachers, who introduced me to ideas like “there are no standard answers” and “open-ended conclusions.” These ideas fit perfectly into the way I now teach children. While I try to guide them with freedom and playfulness, in truth, they are my teachers. The surprises and inspiration I get from their works are far greater than what I give them.
TPL: As you continue to grow both as an artist and an educator, what are the new questions or directions that excite you? Are there creative risks you hope to take, or new communities you want to engage through your work in the years ahead?
JAY: I think I want to become more of an educator than an artist. But because the photography education I do is closely tied to art, I must also keep learning and growing in photography myself. In the coming years, aside from exploring new creative methods, I hope to organize a Photography Education Exhibition in Taiwan.
This would bring together teams, organizations, and artists working in photography education across the country. Through a large-scale exhibition, people passionate about photography education could learn from each other, and perhaps even create a shared general photography curriculum for Taiwanese children.
All of this effort is for the future of Taiwan—to develop more complete, diverse, forward-looking, and large-scale educational approaches. I feel both excited and eager for that day to come.
Jay Hsu’s photography tells stories that feel both intimate and universal. Through his quiet, relational approach and his thoughtful use of diptychs, he reveals how light, shape, and color can echo the journeys we live. Even in the most ordinary moments, there is space for beauty, meaning, and hope.
His commitment to visual storytelling is matched only by his dedication to education. In turning his focus to children and communities on the margins, he has found a deeper purpose — using the camera not just as a creative tool, but as a means of nurturing identity, voice, and wonder in the next generation.
Jay’s work has been recognized both in Taiwan and internationally. His photographs have appeared in group exhibitions such as the GR Taiwan IGS Joint Photography Exhibition and ONFOTO Photography Exhibitions, and have earned honors from the International Photography Awards, the International Color Awards, and competitions hosted by Photoblog.hk and Silicon Power. His early talent as a writer was also honored with literary awards from the Ministry of Education and the Hualien Literary Awards.
But beyond accolades and exhibitions, what stands out most is the gentle strength of his vision — a commitment to holding onto light, even when the world feels uncertain. His story, and the work that grows from it, is a quiet call to see the goodness that endures and to pass it on.
To explore more of Jay Hsu’s photography and experience the diversity of his visual storytelling, follow the links below. See more, learn more, and find your own spark of inspiration in the worlds he so thoughtfully creates.
