Tehching Hsieh hasn't made artwork since the new millennium, and nearly forty years have passed since he completed his seminal work Cage Piece. In the summer of 2017, the streets of Venice were once again teeming; some tourists indulged their romantic fantasies in gondolas, while others stood in front of the quiet Palazzo delle Prigioni to stare at the rusty bars on the old prison windows. Those determined to stride forward into the building were immediately enveloped by its deafening silence and held in captive by Hsieh's exhibition Doing Time.

I was so fortunate to be selected for the Taipei Fine Arts Museum's first Taiwan Pavilion Docent Internship Program, and to stand on the front line of the Venice Biennale introducing Hsieh's life experience to the public. Actually being there was nothing like what I had imagined, which started from the interview last December through the workshop in March and until I began work in mid July. Even though I memorized and rehearsed everything such that I could recite it down to a tee, giving an actual tour was much different. Venice in the summertime is buzzing with tourists, and the Palazzo delle Prigioni, located beside San Marco Square and the Doge's Palace, is a scenic spot that cannot be missed. For passersby, I made my voice pleasant and my language accessible while uncovering the mysteries of Hsieh's art. I wanted to bring the artist's philosophy of life into their lives, and make it possible for all visitors to talk freely about performance art.

In the first week of internship, I met a gentleman who wasn't an artist yet joked about his “artwork” with me. He had once decided that he would always take the stairs and never an elevator again, which he did for eight years. But one day while moving to a new home was forced to take an elevator, which made him feel utterly depressed. Because of this, he stood frozen in the Outdoor Piece gallery of the exhibition, comparing Hsieh's experiences to his own and feeling empathy when he learned that Hsieh had been taken into custody and forced into a police station. I feel lucky to have met this person right at the beginning because his “performance art” confirmed that Hsieh is not crazy and his artwork is really not that far-fetched. He might have a talent for wasting time, but he used his life to create art. Perhaps everyone has an intense but quiet practice in his or her life without even knowing it.

I do not have, and probably should not have, official answers for the deep questions visitors ask about topics such as the passage of time. Visitors tend to seek formulaic answers, but I think helping them find their own answers is one of my duties as a docent intern. The question visitors most often ask when approaching Time Clock Piece is why Hsieh wanted to waste so much time. I never answer, but rather ask them why they think he wasted time. Day after day, year after year, people punch in and punch out when arriving and leaving work. They do this same action, following the same steps, but do it twice a day, while Hsieh does it every hour in the artwork. So why would anyone think he is wasting time?

At ten weeks my internship was almost over, and I had thought that I came up with a complete set of responses to a range of different situations, but difficult questions still arose. Although Cage Piece was not central in this exhibition, I always wanted to discuss this work when introducing Outdoor Piece. If visitors seemed to understand, I would tell the “beef and broccoli” story. Once a visitor asked, “Didn't you just say he was very organized? How come he didn't know his friend would bring the same food every day?” I smiled and said, “I really don't know why.” As a docent intern, no matter how much I prepared, it was impossible to plan for every question. If I didn't know the answer, I would just admit it, and what would happen next? Perhaps we would discuss some details more deeply, share some personal stories, or maybe I could help the visitors find answers to clear up their confusion. Before leaving, they would often express their gratitude with a smile.

A docent intern is not Tehching Hsieh. Even Hsieh himself shrugged his shoulders and said “I don't remember” when visitors asked about certain details.