To acquire a piece from 真真 ZhenZhen Lab, you must make an appointment with the artist, Chang Po-chieh (張博傑). At an agreed upon time, you venture into a quiet alley in Shilin, Taipei, where two-story buildings lay low against the sky, to the former dormitory of an old tax office. You cut through a small gallery space to a tiny center courtyard, climb up a rickety, green wrought-iron staircase, and enter a bright, expansive workshop. The space is messy and luminous, strewn with wires, bulbs, and glass; soft jazz plays on the record player. Afternoon light cascades through the windows; on the opposing balcony hangs the neighbors’ morning wash. Geometric, glass lamps dangle from the studio’s sloped ceiling rafters, swaying slightly, catching rays of light. At the edge of the worktable, you sit with Chang over a cup of pour-over coffee; his deep, baritone laugh fills the space as, together, you speak of time and light.

This slow process to commission a light seems slightly inconvenient and counterintuitive, but it has been intentionally and purposefully conceived. “In the end, the people that come to the studio are all the right people—they are those that take the time to understand the concept.” This measured intentionality of time is at the core of all that Chang does.

He is, not simply a lamp maker, but an artist of time and light—glass is but one material in his journey through time. 

Chang primary works with old glass—most often patterned glass from old Taiwanese houses, rescued, and given new life through a transformation of form. He also incorporates European and American stained glass imported to Taiwan during Taiwan's past economic boom—most of these factories have shuttered in their own countries with the decline of the glass industry. Each piece of the glass by hand; the edges are then polished, soldered, and set with heated tin and copper foil. The resulting objects are one of a kind: his process shifts each time, the materials are obsolete.

Chang grew up in Toufen, Miaoli: his family ran a traditional shaved ice (礤冰) shop, where he gained an appreciation of quality materials and a predilection for solitude from a young age. It was as a child, basking in the afternoon sun trickling in from the old patterned windows, that he was first moved by the warmth of light. 

He came to glass later during his training as an architect—in his studies, he learned how to work with a range of physical materials—glass, clay, wood; he later turned to new media arts—turning to a digital toolkit of computer and data—exploring the poetry of time and journey through the digital realm.

“For me, everything is material and concepts. I choose what kind of story I want to tell, then choose the materials and tools.”

He straddles the extremes of physical and intangible, hoping to eventually to reconcile the two mediums. The glass craft is a way for him to think and perceive with his hands. “While my hands are making, my mind is thinking as well.” Bojie says.

Zhen Zhen was never meant to be a commodity—it is at heart an art project. His intention for the Zhen Zhen brand—in contrast to his new media art—is to create work that is understood on first sight; it is to first convey a story of craft and material, then to imbue and layer it with concept, meaning, and poetry. It is an expression of the warmth of time. 

Chang’s pieces now adorn high-end establishments seeking to incorporate distinctive Taiwanese elements into their spaces and personal homes alike. One family asked Chang to take the glass windows from their old house to create lighting for their new home. The lamps became a vessel for memories—old and new. Chang also collaborates annually with other artists. The most recent project, “Relight+Music”, with sound artist Hsu Yen-Ting (許雁婷) was an exploration of the relationship between light and sound. In a dim space, lit only by Chang’s tungsten glass lamps, a piece of traditional Taiwanese patterned glass cut to the shape of a 12-inch vinyl record was placed on a turntable. The resulting aural textures, overlaid with Hsu’s sound work, conjure whispers, heartbeats, murmurs—a collective imagination and memory from within the glass.

Yet Chang does not simply meditate on antiquity—instead, he balances sentimentality with a rational mind, transforming the materials of times past and giving them new life and place in the present. His pieces take us on a journey through time, slowing us down in our high-speed lives and allowing us to all be time travelers—to arrive in front of light and to gaze at time as it looks back upon us.