From a biological illustration to a plant painting showcased in international exhibitions, Yun-Kae Kiang has always believed that images aren’t just art, but also a way to understand nature and share knowledge.
Graduating from the Department of Life Sciences and the Institute of Oceanography at National Taiwan University (國立臺灣大學生命科學系、海洋研究所), Kiang embarked on a path that combines science and art through her engagement with scientific mapping. She studied scientific mapping in the United States and interned at a research station under the Smithsonian Institution (美國史密森尼學會). After returning to Taiwan, her works have encompassed mappings for academic papers, archaeological reconstructions for "Dancing with the Land," key visuals for animal behavior seminars, and children's science publications. In 2026, her depiction of Taiwan's native tree species, Machilus thunbergii (紅楠), won second place in the Sally Grace Bunker Tree Award at the Plantae Annual Exhibition of the Society of Botanical Artists (植物藝術學會) in the UK. Another work, "Lycoris longituba (金花石蒜)," was also selected for the Exhibiting Excellence Award in the watercolor category. Taiwan's plants were showcased on the international botanical art stage with both delicacy and scientific accuracy.

Since childhood, she enjoyed drawing and observing plants and animals, yet Kiang had never imagined that she would become a scientific illustrator. For her, drawing and biology had always been coexisting interests, until she entered the Department of Life Sciences at National Taiwan University and realized that the two could actually complement each other and even become a professional career.
"When I was a child, I used to think that being able to draw the plants and animals I observed in a lifelike manner would be wonderful," she said with a smile. However, in the environment in which she grew up, artistic creation was not a career path most people would choose. Therefore, she pursued her passion for nature and entered the field of life sciences, until during her university years, she encountered scientific mapping and discovered another possibility.
She admitted that she received no formal training in fine arts, having only attended general drawing classes during her childhood. The real turning point came in the university, where she met many friends who shared a passion for biological illustrations coupled with workshops on scientific drawing organized by professors such as Chen Junhong and Hu Zheming from the Department of Life Sciences.
"I just realized that so many people use drawing to help scientific research, and while enjoying the process of painting with their artistic skills, they can also contribute to science education," she said. So, drawing and life sciences finally came together into a clearer path.
Afterwards, she interned at Professor Zheng Yilang's studio, participating in practical work of fish scientific illustration for the first time. From assisting with watercolor coloring to understanding the complete workflow, this experience gradually confirmed for her that this was the direction she wanted to pursue in the future.

Days of studying in the United States
In order to advance her professional skills, Kiang decided to pursue further studies in scientific illustration at California State University, Monterey Bay (美國加州州立大學蒙特雷分校) after graduating from the Institute of Oceanography at National Taiwan University (臺大海洋研究所). Beyond enhancing her techniques, this experience also led her to reconsider the process and significance of creative work.
What left the deepest impression on her wasn't the watercolor techniques, but the way the course encouraged students to continuously refine their work. After completing each assignment, the teacher and classmates would discuss and offer suggestions together, and the students would then revise their work based on the feedback, recording the reasons and the process for each adjustment.
"The teacher doesn't merely give a grade, but hopes that we continue to improve."
This kind of training changed the way she views her works. She no longer confines herself to creating a perfect piece, but has developed the habit of reflecting on each completed work: If she were to paint the same subject again, what aspects could be improved?
At the final stage of the scientific illustration course, Kiang went to the research station of the Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute in Panama (巴拿馬史密森尼熱帶研究所) for an internship to gain more practical experience. Although she originally expected to participate extensively in scientific illustration work, upon entering the research unit, she found that different research projects were at varying stages. The illustration work she was responsible for was not as demanding as she had imagined.
“On the contrary, because I had a lot of time, I began forcing myself to observe.”
Using her free time to observe the surroundings of the research station, she quickly sketched and recorded various animals and plants. Because most of the local species were completely different from those in Taiwan, and she lacked familiar background knowledge and observational experience, she had to identify them from scratch. By browsing through the illustrated guide page by page, she gradually became familiar with how to recognize the characteristics of living organisms.
After returning to Taiwan, Kiang received strong support from senior colleagues, who invited her to participate in large projects. She started by helping to illustrate some work. She gradually gained practical experience. Step by step, she built her own path in scientific illustration.

Scientific illustration isn’t about making things look realistic, but about making scientific information easier to understand
Many people believe that scientific illustration is about depicting organisms realistically, but Kiang believes that the essence of scientific illustration is to convey scientific information. She states that the scope of scientific illustration is actually very broad. Aside from realistic biological illustrations, it can also include infographics, and even during her studies in the United States, she observed popular science comics that present animal interactions in a humorous way. As long as the purpose of the imagery is to convey scientific knowledge, it can be considered part of scientific illustration.
As for how to draw, it depends on the type of information and the audience. If it’s for researchers, the focus may be on accurately depicting the morphology of a new species or simplifying the presentation of an experimental setup. If the audience is children or the general public, the images may need to be vivid and engaging, appropriately translated, and even include a narrative to make them easier to understand.
Taking insects as an example, what Kiang observes isn’t merely their appearance, but also the proportions and structures of their body parts, their identifying characteristics, and their relationship with the environment: what kind of plants they rest on, what nectar they feed on, and what leaves they chew on. Even when referring to photographs, she doesn’t depict them strictly according to a single image because the photo might happen to obscure certain structures and make the insect appear as if it’s missing a leg or cause misunderstandings due to unclear key parts. In addition to referring to photos from different angles, the ideal situation is to examine live specimens or preserved samples in person, or even to observe ecological contexts in the field.
She once created illustrations for Teacher Hu Miaofen's (胡妙芬) animal column in Little Planet Magazine (小行星幼兒誌), and one of the themes was leafcutter ants, which excited her greatly. During her past internship at the Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute, she often observed leafcutter ants carrying leaves near the dormitory, took numerous photos and videos, and made quick sketches recording their behavior.
When she depicted leafcutter ants again, what came to mind was not only the appearance of the ants themselves, but also the scenes of them carrying leaf fragments and moving among different plants in the forest. That particular illustration, therefore, also conveyed a sense of imagery accumulated through careful observation.
This way of working makes scientific illustration different from ordinary sketching or purely artistic creation. Artistic creation can adjust proportions and simplify forms for the sake of composition and aesthetics; however, although scientific illustration also values aesthetics, it must still return to the characteristics of the species and the evidence itself.
In addition to living organisms, Kiang also assisted the National Museum of Prehistory's Southern Taiwan Archaeological Museum (國立台灣史前文化博物館南科考古館) in illustrating the book "Dancing with the Land: Uncovering the Past and Present of Taiwan's Culture and Environment (與土地共舞:發掘台南人文與環境的古今事)," which challenged her to reconstruct ancient life scenes with limited data. She recalled that at the time, she had to depict the scene of the ancestors of the Dapenkeng culture crossing the sea to reach Tainan, Taiwan. According to archaeological evidence, since pottery and stone tools may have originated from other regions, researchers speculate that the people at that time didn’t continuously reside in Taiwan, but arrived via maritime routes.
Initially, her idea was to depict a boat similar to a large Austronesian plank canoe or a vessel with outriggers. However, her collaborative researchers pointed out that wooden boats are difficult to preserve, and currently, there is insufficient archaeological evidence to confirm the exact structure of boats from that period. Therefore, after multiple discussions, the design was ultimately changed to the most conservative and simplest option: a dugout canoe.
This experience further confirms that scientific illustration must strike a balance between speculation and evidence. Details that aren’t supported by evidence, no matter how reasonable or beautiful, must be restrained.

Spending a year observing a single tree brings Taiwan’s red nanmu to the London stage
The award-winning work "Machilus thunbergii" comes from Kiang’s former study in the botanical illustration course at the Royal Botanic Garden Edinburgh (愛丁堡皇家植物園). She stated that botanical illustration can be regarded as a highly important branch of scientific illustration, focusing on faithfully presenting the characteristics of plants while also showcasing their beauty. This online course lasts for more than two years. One of its modules is the "Native Tree Project," which requires students to select a native tree in their residence area, observe it continuously for a year, and record its appearance throughout different seasons and growth stages, including flowering, fruiting, budding, leafing, and other changes, ultimately completing a plant plate that includes multiple stages.
Kiang frankly admitted that although it’s ideal to observe a subject over a long period, without course assignments as a driving force, it’s easy for the effort to fizzle out due to a busy work schedule. She spent a long time considering her topic. Since the observation would last a year, the subject needed to be easily accessible and not too tall or rare. Some European students chose trees in their own gardens, but in Taiwan, where most people live in apartments, it’s more suitable to find subjects in parks, street trees, or nearby mountains and forests.
She also hopes to use this as an opportunity to depict Taiwan’s local characteristics, such as the significance in biogeography or cultural memory. She mentioned that her senior, Ji Weiting (紀瑋婷), chose the paper mulberry (構樹) because its close relation to Taiwan, Austronesian bark cloth culture, and migration history left a deep impression on her. Initially, she also considered the camphor tree (樟樹) because it’s related to the history of Taiwan’s camphor industry. Trees of the Lauraceae family are an important group in Taiwan’s mid-mountain forests, with especially distinctive floral structures.
In the end, she chose the red camphor tree, partly because it also belongs to the laurel family, its flowers are larger than camphor trees, making it more suitable for displaying detailed structures; On the other hand, it also shows rich variations across different seasons. Red nanmu may seem inconspicuous in daily life, but when it sprouts in the spring, its pink bracts cover the tender shoots, resembling pig's feet, which is why it’s also called 'pig's trotter nan'; The outer layer of the bracts is also covered with fine golden hairs, and when many red namus bud and bloom simultaneously in the forest, the scene is quite spectacular.
She also likes the appearance of the red nanmu when it bears fruit: the stems turn red, the mature fruit turns dark blue, resembling a small blueberry, attracting many birds to come and feed. From new buds, flowers, and fruits to bird interactions, the red nanmu is not just a common tree, but a living being that embodies the seasons, ecology, and local memory.
Another piece selected in the watercolor category "Exhibiting Excellence," “Lycoris aurea”, continues her gaze on plant details and life stages. From leaf-cutter ants and archaeological reconstructions to red nanmu and Lycoris aurea, Kiang's creations consistently demonstrate that scientific mapping isn’t simply about copying nature, but about making knowledge visible through observation, understanding, and selection, allowing those lives that are almost overlooked to be seen rediscovered.

Images bring unseen knowledge to the public
In addition to botanical art, Kiang has long created illustrations for academic research and environmental education. From illustrations for burial bugs and moth-related papers, to illustrations for popular science books and newspapers, to the main visuals for animal behavior seminars and the gray forest owl posters for conservation camps, her work often lies between researchers and the public, transforming complex scientific content into images that can be understood, remembered, and even emotionally connected with.
She believes that academic illustrations and general popular science illustrations target different audiences and require different types of information. If it’s an image for a paper, researchers must be assisted in accurately presenting observations, experimental procedures, or species characteristics; if it’s about environmental education or conservation promotion, it is not just about “explaining” –it also needs to make people willing to approach it. Here, images aren’t just auxiliary words, but a form of communication.
"Some things are hard for readers to imagine if they’re only expressed in words; but images can instantly draw people into the scene." As a result, her works not only depict species but also include their habitats, behaviors, and their relationships among living creatures. For her, a good scientific image should help people understand knowledge and realize that these natural things are connected to their own life.
This is also what she believes is the deepest connection between scientific mapping and conservation. Conservation isn’t just about protecting rare or endangered species; it also includes rediscovering and caring for the living creatures and natural environment around us. Red nanmu was exactly that. It isn’t a rare plant, often called the “snot-nose nanmu,” yet throughout the year, it displays new buds, flowers, fruits, and the rhythm of bird feeding. When such details are painted, ordinary trees can be seen again.
Facing the rapid development of AI image generation, Kiang doesn’t deny that technology brings new tools and possibilities, but she still believes that what is hardest to replace in scientific graphics is the long process of human observation, research, judgment, and choice. Images aren’t created out of thin air, but are built on research data, on-site experience, and detail recognition.

From the Department of Life Sciences at National Taiwan University to scientific illustration, from academic illustration to international botanical art exhibitions, Kiang has always explored “how to observe nature.” For her, the brush isn’t meant to replicate the world, but to give those previously overlooked details a chance to be understood again.
She hopes that through her work, more people will realize that Taiwan's nature isn’t far away. It could be a common low-altitude red nanmu, a Lycrois auracea, an insect, or a gray-faced forest owl living in the forest. As long as you’re willing to stop and watch, every kind of life has its own story.
Translated by Joey Adams; Proofread by Vita Liu (劉祐君).
*Note: This article has been translated between Chinese and English. Proper names and pinyin spellings are provided for reference only.



