Travel

Huashan 1914 Creative Park (華山1914文化創意產業園區)

While it wasn’t my intention from the outset, this modest little blog of mine has transformed into one of the most extensive English-language resources on the net regarding heritage buildings from Taiwan’s fifty year period of Japanese Colonial rule. Starting several years ago with an article about one of the nation’s few remaining Martial Arts Halls, I’ve gone on to cover an ever expanding range of topics, in an attempt to better document that short, but very consequential period of Taiwan’s modern history and development.

There are some topics, however that are just too extensive to be covered with a simple blog post, and admittedly the topic of today’s post is one that I’ve avoided for quite a while. It’s not that I haven’t wanted to publish something about the Huashan 1914 Creative Park, it’s just that the subject is one that I knew would be overwhelming in the amount of work that would goes into writing about it in the way I write articles - and let’s face it, it’s a lot easier to take photos, research and write about locations that few people have no idea exist. So when it comes to writing about what is arguably one of Taiwan’s most well-known tourist destinations, there is a little more pressure to make sure that anything I publish does the place justice, and offers readers photos and information that they might not be able to find elsewhere.

Suffice to say, this article has been years in the making, combining years of research and knowledge about the Japanese-era, and photos from my numerous visits to the park, which has become one of the Taipei’s most well-loved tourist destinations for both international and domestic tourists, alike.

However, given how busy the park is, how large it is, and how quickly things change, it is difficult to take the kind of photos that I usually do for places like this, so this time, I’m not going to focus as much on the architectural design of the buildings within the park as I usually do, and instead spend more time talking about it’s history before introducing the creative park that occupies the space today.

For those of you who aren’t currently here in Taiwan and have landed here on this article wondering what ‘Huashan’ is, or why it has become such an important tourist destination, let me start by offering a brief explanation as to why it has become so iconic over the past decade.

Known officially as the ‘Huashan 1914 Creative Park’ (華山1914文化創意產業園區), or just ‘Huashan’ (華山) to locals, the park is located on the site of the former Taipei Distillery, a more than a century-old Japanese-era factory that stayed in operation until the late 1980s. Sitting abandoned on a tasty plot of real estate for quite some time, the historic park was set for demolition by the Taipei City Government until groups of artists and civil activists started a campaign to have it preserved and ultimately converted into a cultural space. Obviously successful in their efforts, the result was a ‘Creative Park’ that followed the model of urban-regeneration that has become popular in Europe, restoring the buildings and bringing them back to life.

The park today consists of a number of buildings and warehouses that were restored and transformed into one of the unlikeliest, yet hippest tourist destinations in the capital, home to one of Taipei’s best live-music performance venues, a prized independent film cinema, a constantly changing number of exhibition spaces, pop-up shops, and a number of restaurants, coffee shops and bars.

The best thing about Huashan is that one visit is never enough - every visit results in a completely different experience, so it doesn’t matter if you’re visiting just to check it out, to enjoy a film or a concert, or to see one of the exhibitions taking place, the success of the factory’s restoration has become a model for historic properties across the country to emulate. Thanks to the success of the ‘Huashan model’, today we’re fortunate to have an increasing number of these heritage-buildings-converted-into-creative-spaces popping up in almost all of Taiwan’s major cities.

The existence of the Huashan Creative Park is not only a celebration of Taipei’s history, but also an important space to show-case the creativity and artistry of Taiwan’s youth, the future of the country.

If you’re visiting Taipei, there are a number of important destinations to check out while you’re in town, but few places are arguably as prolific these days as Huashan, making it one of the spots that tourists absolutely have to visit when they’re in Taiwan.

Taihoku Distillery (臺北酒工場)

For most of us living here in Taiwan, whenever we refer to the historic Taipei Distillery, we simply just call it “Huashan” (華山), so whenever someone suggests a visit, no matter if they’re a local or a foreigner, they always just say: “Let’s go to Huashan!” However, as I mentioned earlier, the official name of the creative park that occupies the space today is a much longer one and even though few people ever refer to it by its full name, it is a name that holds considerable meaning and tells us a lot about its history.

Better known for much of its history as the ‘Taihoku Distillery’, or the ‘Taipei Distillery’, most visitors these days might find themselves wondering where the “Huashan” title comes from, likewise, why did they randomly add a ‘1914’ to the title?

Below you’ll find the answer both of those questions while I introduce the history of the distillery, which I’ll present with my own interpretation as well as with a concise timeline of events. I’m going to deviate from my usual writing style with this one though as I’m going to focus on the distillery as a whole, and won’t focus on each of the buildings until later when I introduce the park that is located on the site today.

Officially opened in 1914 (大正3年) as the privately-owned Houji Distillery (芳醸株式会社酒造廠) in the capital’s Kabayamacho district (樺山町 / かばやまちょう), the factory represented a massive investment in the quickly developing Japanese colony. Importing machinery and refrigeration equipment directly from Japan, the factory took a modern approach to the production of alcohol in Taiwan, which previously was a seasonal affair given the sub-tropical environment of the island.

On a large piece of land parallel to the railway, the factory was in a prime location within one of the capital’s most important neighborhoods, home to the Taihoku Prefectural Hall (臺北州廳), Taihoku City Hall (臺北市役所) and the Taihoku Jōdo Shinshū Temple (淨土宗臺北別院), all of which were a short distance away from the original Taihoku Railway Station (臺北驛 / たいほくえき).

Note: Taihoku (たいほく) is the Japanese word for Taipei (台北)

Huashan in the direct centre of this Japanese-era map of Taipei.

In the early years, the distillery focused primarily on producing Japanese-style sake for the market here in Taiwan, but later added Insam-ju (인삼주), which is a bit of a head-scratcher as it is an infused alcohol made from Ginseng, a traditional alcohol from Korea. While this type of alcohol is referred to literally in Chinese as ‘Ginseng Wine’ (人蔘酒), back in Japan it’s more commonly referred to as Goryeo Ginseng Wine (高麗人蔘酒), in reference to the historic Goryeo Kingdom (高麗國). To both the Japanese and Formosans, it was a foreign alcohol, and while people may have enjoyed it, it’s difficult to see them producing an entire line of alcohol for the thousand or so Korean residents of Taihoku Prefecture at the time.

Within a few years of the distillery opening for business, a piece of the land within the factory was leased out to the Nippon Camphor Company (日本樟腦株式會社), which opened a production and refinery facility on the northwest portion of the grounds. Then, in 1920 (大正9年), the president of the Houji Distillery, Konosuke Anbe (安部幸之助) had a brewery constructed on a large plot of land on the opposite side of the railroad, a short distance from the distillery.

With machinery imported directly from America (Hawaii to be specific), the newly established Takasago Brewery (高砂麥酒株式會社 / たかさごびーるかぶしきがいしゃ) sought to enter the beer market with cheaper, locally produced beer to compete with imported Yebisu Beer (惠比壽啤酒) and Kirin Beer (麒麟啤酒), both of which remain quite popular in Taiwan today.

Note: Despite the company experiencing considerably financial difficulties throughout the Japanese-era, Takasago Beer (高砂麥酒 / たかさごびーるかぶし) has endured for more than century, more particularly under its current name, Taiwan Beer (台灣啤酒).

Everything changed in 1922 (大正11年) when the colonial government instituted what is best described as a hostile takeover, establishing the Monopoly Bureau of the Taiwan Governor's Office (臺灣總督府專賣局), a government agency that was responsible for the production and sale of all liquor and tobacco products in Taiwan, in addition to opium, salt, and camphor.

Faced with the decision to cooperate with the takeover, or being forced out of business, the owners of the distillery weren’t given much of a choice, yet thanks to some clever maneuvering and political know-how, they were able to maintain portions of the ‘Takasago’ business thanks to some good timing and some loopholes in the monopoly set up.

That is a story for another day, though.

Note: The Takasago Corporation remains in operation today, known as the Takasago International Corporation (高砂香料工業株式會社 / たかさごこうりょうこうぎょう). Relocating back to Japan in 1945 with a new headquarters in Japan, and instead focusing on the chemical industry. The Taipei Brewery remained in operation after the war, becoming known as the Jianguo Brewery (建國啤酒廠), and is now a historic property and tourist destination.

Obviously, the colonial government wouldn’t have had the technical know-how for the production of alcohol, so the original owners were able to cooperate with the government for a period of time so that the transition could be completed smoothly. In 1929, the distillery became known as the ‘Taihoku Distillery’ (台北酒工場), or its more official bureaucratic name, “Taihoku Branch of the Taiwan Alcohol and Tobacco Monopoly Bureau” (台灣總督府專賣局台北酒工廠).

It was around this time that the distillery also started to diversify with a number of new varieties of alcohol on the production line (fruit wines and plum wine), in addition to the opening of a warehouse where imported alcohols were stored prior to being sent out to the market.

During this period the camphor production facility remained in operation, and business at both was so good that in 1937 (昭和12年), a freight station was constructed nearby to assist in the process of transporting products from the distillery and the camphor refinery to other areas of Taiwan.

Kabayama Station (華山駅 / かざんえき), which was within walking distance of Taihoku Station, remained in operation until it was phased out in 1987 (民國76年) when the railroad was shifted underground. Sadly, even though the original station hasn’t been demolished, it sits abandoned and is somewhat of a wasted space that could be a valuable addition to the culture park. Walking past the station today, few realize that prior to the arrival of the Taipei MRT, it was once a train station.

Note: It’s important to note that Huashan Station was notoriously used during Taiwan’s long period of Martial Law, known locally as the White Terror (白色恐怖), as a loading station to transport political prisoners.

When the Second World War came to an end and Japan was forced to surrender control of Taiwan, the Chinese Nationals swooped in and discovered that the way things were set up in Taiwan were already quite efficient, so not much was changed at first. The monopoly system remained in place with the Taiwan Tobacco and Wine Monopoly Bureau (臺灣省菸酒公賣局) taking over.

Left with top-notch production facilities, the distillery shifted from the production of Japanese sake and instead produced Chinese-style rice wines (米酒) and a low-cost cassava-based (木薯) wine named “thài-peh tsiú” (太白酒), which became a staple in the early years of the post-war era.

Over the next few decades, not much changed at the factory, as it entered what they refer to as the ‘golden age’ of alcohol production in Taiwan. In the early 1960s though, camphor production in Taiwan came to a halt as the supply of camphor and the demand pretty much fizzled out.

Even though there was considerable profit in the production of alcohol for the thirsty residents of Taiwan, the cost of maintaining a production facility within the heart of Taipei became far too expensive, and the quality of water in Taipei became such an issue that considerable quality issues with the production line started to become a problem. Ultimately, this resulted in a necessary migration out of the city to a larger, modern facility in Taoyuan’s Guishan District (龜山區), where the distillery continues to produce a wide variety of alcohols today.

When the distillery moved, the original was left abandoned for a few years while the government was left to figure out what to do with it. There was some debate to have the whole thing abolished and developed into private land, but as the railroad was shifting underground, nothing could be dug in the area in fear of causing disruptions to the construction process. Then, the government came up with plans to construct a new Legislative Assembly Building on the land, but those plans eventually fell through as well.

It was during this period that local artists and other creatives started sneaking onto the property and using the empty space to display their art. After a while, the abandoned distillery became so popular that people started to campaign for it to officially become a permanent exhibition space.

From the early 1990s until the turn of the new millennium, nothing was decided, but the massive space left in its abandoned state was a waste, so the newly established TTL Monopoly Bureau (臺灣菸酒股份有限公司) leased it out for a period of three years to the Ministry of Culture (文化部) until they could figure out what to do with it permanently. The debate lasted well into the 2000s, even after the site was recognized as a protected historic property, which ensured that public funds would be provided for its restoration, but didn’t specify what should actually happen.

Plans ended up shifted back and forth for a few years, but ultimately the Huashan 1914 Creative Park opened to the public in 2007, becoming not only a massively popular tourist destination, but one of the most important places for the creative people of Taipei to show-case their talent.

Taipei Distillery Timeline

Dating back to 1914, the history of the Taipei Distillery is a long and complicated one, so in order to better explain in a more concise way, I’m going to split up the timeline into several different sections to make it easier to understand. Admittedly, this timeline is a compilation of several resources, but I’ve put it together in a way where I’ve omitted some of the unnecessary or unimportant aspects of the factory’s history in order to keep things clear and on topic.   

Japanese-era Taihoku Distillery (日治造酒場時期)

  • 1914 (大正3年) - The privately operated Houji Distillery (芳醸株式会社酒造廠 / ほうじょう かぶしきがいしゃ しゅぞうしょう) opens for operation. Producing sake under the name Moth Orchid Sake (蝴蝶蘭清酒), in reference to one of Taiwan’s most famous flowers, as well as Ginseng Wine (人參酒). With machinery and refrigeration equipment imported directly from Japan, the factory is able to produce sake throughout the year.

  • 1917 (大正6年) - The ‘Taihoku Branch of the Nippon Camphor Company’ (日本樟腦株式會社台北支店) opens a production and refinery factory on the northwest area of the grounds, but located separately to the Distillery in the red brick buildings.

  • 1922 (大正11年) - The colonial government consolidates control over a number of industries in Taiwan under its monopolization scheme, and wineries were either taken over by the government or forced to shut down.

  • 1929 (昭和4年) - The government officially renames the Distillery “Taihoku Distillery” (專賣局台北酒工場), or “Taihoku Branch of the Taiwan Alcohol and Tobacco Monopoly Bureau.” The factory is also expanded and diversifies into the production of a number of different alcohols as well as opening a warehouse for the import and repackaging of foreign alcohol.

Post-War Taipei Wine Factory (台灣省菸酒公賣局時期)

  • 1946 (民國35年) - Following the lead of the Japanese Colonial government, the Republic of China continued with the monopoly scheme and renamed the Taihoku Factory to the “No. 1 Distillery” (台灣省菸酒公賣局第一酒廠), referring to its importance and location in the capital. Other alcohol producing factories around Taiwan that remained in operation likewise changed their names to a numbered one.

  • 1957 (民國47年) - The name of the Distillery was once again changed to “Taipei Distillery” (台北酒廠) and continued its role as one of the top alcohol producing factories in Taiwan. By this time, the government had already shifted away from sake production to a low-cost alcohol made from cassava named “thài-peh tsiú” (太白酒), which became a staple in the country in addition to producing a number of fruit wines (水果酒).

  • 1961 (民國50年) - An decreasing supply and demand for camphor forces the refinery to shut down.

  • 1987 (民國76年) - Due The rising cost of land and serious water pollution issues in the capital, the factory shifts operations to a newly construction production facility in what is currently Taoyuan City’s Guishan District (桃園市龜山區), which remains in operation today.

Abandonment and Plans for the Future (閒置時期)

  • 1992 (民國81年) - Plans are drawn up by the government to have the factory demolished and converted into a space for the construction of a new Legislative Assembly (立法院), however the plans turned out to be quite controversial and the plans were later abandoned.

  • 1997 (民國86年) - Left abandoned for almost a decade, a number of local artists started using the space for underground exhibitions of their work. Proving to be quite a success, artists and a number of civic groups petition the government to preserve the site and have it converted into a center for the arts.

  • 1998 (民國87年) - The TTL Monopoly Bureau (臺灣菸酒股份有限公司) leases the property to the Ministry of Culture on a three-year basis to have it used as a venue for arts and cultural events, creating the model for the future use of the space.

Culture Park (文化創意產業園區時期)

  • 1999 (民國88年) - The Huashan Arts and Culture Space (華山藝文特區) is officially established

  • 2002 (民國91年) - The Executive Yuan (行政院), one of the highest legislative bodies of the Taiwanese government, issues a national development plan to convert several abandoned or disused spaces owned by the Monopoly Bureau into cultural parks, with a budget of around 5.7 billion NTD (US $190 million).

  • 2003 (民國92年) - Huashan is officially recognized as a “culture and creative park” (創意文化園區), giving it a special status among the nation’s protected historic buildings as plans are drawn up to have the buildings on site restored and converted into a park.

  • 2007 (民國96年) - Having restored the buildings and retrofitting them with modern lighting, air-conditioning, etc, the government opens up sections of the park for bids from private enterprises to take part in the park using the ‘build-operate-transfer scheme’ (BOT) that has become common in recent years for historic buildings in preparation for its official re-opening as the “Huashan 1914 Creative Park” (華山創意文化園區).

Huashan 1914 Creative Park (華山1914文化創意產業園區)

Now that we’ve covered the history of the distillery, let’s talk about the creative park, and each of the buildings that are located within it today. Before I start though, I’m just going to put it out there that I’m not going to be promoting any of the private businesses that have set up shop within the grounds of the park. The vast majority of the space within Huashan today is used for exhibition and event spaces, but in order to recoup some of their losses with regard to the restoration of the area, the Huashan 1914 Creative park is operated with a mixture of public and private sector cooperation, which has become a successful formula in recent years for ensuring that buildings like this can continue to be restored across the country.

These spaces include restaurants, bars, coffee shops and pop-up stores, which are constantly changing. To save myself some time, I’m not going to list them here today, so that I don’t have to constantly update this article.

If you’re interested in the topic, I recommend you check out my article where I outline the government’s efforts to preserve historic buildings, while taking advantage of private sector partnerships to ensure sustainability.

Link: The role of Public-Private Partnerships in Conserving Historic Buildings in Taiwan

According to its official website, the Huashan 1914 Creative Park, which opened in 2007, successfully became a ‘profitable’ enterprise in 2015, thanks to the tireless efforts of its operating team, who have discovered through years of experience how to better ‘manage time, manage space, manage creativity, manage stories, manage sentiments, and foster brands’ in order to transform the park into Taiwan’s premiere base for the promotion of cultural and creative arts. With a focus on promoting the nation’s artistic talent, the park has also been promoted as a tourist hot spot as well as a place where entrepreneurs are provided with the opportunity to showcase their innovation and creativity.

For most people, the emphasis placed on ‘profitability’ in the opening statement of the park’s description of itself might come across slightly odd, but it’s important to remember the history of the park, and the decade-long battle to have it preserved as a venue for the arts. Originally a publicly funded park, being able to stand on its own legs without constant government funds being committed to keeping it afloat means that its operating team has the benefit of freedom in their decision-making processes. However, it does mean that you’ll find a considerable amount of ‘commercial’ stuff happening at the park from time to time, with some of the exhibition spaces specifically only rented out to large companies as show-rooms for their newer products. The commercialization of the space likewise has also forced out many of the original artists whose work was instrumental in bringing the space into the limelight as an important arts venue.

Essentially, Huashan has become Taipei’s most important venue for cultural events, large-scale exhibitions, art galleries, pop-up stores and markets, theater productions and musical performances in addition to also being home to a number of on-site restaurants, coffeeshops and bars. The great thing about the park is that there is always something happening, and with the rate of which things change, you’ll find yourself drawn back for multiple visits.

Home to ‘Legacy’, one of the nation’s most important concert venues for the emerging Taiwanese Indie music scene, as well as SPOT, an independent movie theater, you’ll find a mixture of hip young people, who have come to enjoy their favorite bands in one area of the park while famed directors, actors and actresses hang out nearby.

A local busker putting on a performance for a weekend crowd of visitors.

I could write pages of text introducing the park, most of which has already been written before, so taking into consideration that the restoration of Japanese-era heritage sites is a subject where I have spent a significant amount of time researching, I’d prefer to take a moment to highlight why I personally consider the park to be such a resounding success, especially with regard to the ‘profitability’ aspect of the park mentioned above.

For people like me, the importance of Huashan’s success is that it has become a model for the conservation of other heritage sites in Taiwan and as mentioned earlier, the success of this park has spawned a number of other venues around the country.

Note: These sies most notably include the Songshan Cultural and Creative Park (松山文創園區), Taichung Station Railway Cultural Park (臺中驛鐵道文化園區), Kaohsiung’s Pier-2 Art Center (駁二藝術特區), Hualien Cultural and Creative Industries Park (花蓮文創產業園區) and the Taitung Railway Art Village (鐵道藝術村), each of which was converted from a Japanese-era industrial site or railway station.

The key thing to remember is that the success of Huashan has proven to any of the bureaucratic naysayers that these large heritage sites can be converted into cultural parks or tourist destinations, attracting crowds on a regular basis. Having large venues like these available within Taiwan’s major cities offers the people of Taiwan a space to explore the history of the nation, while also promoting arts and culture. Additionally, these larger parks, when profitable, allow the government to focus its financial resources on the continued restoration of historic buildings, which can in turn become cultural parks or serve a role in the public-private partnerships introduced in the article I linked earlier.

Most of us appreciate Huashan simply for the art and cultural experiences that we can enjoy on a regular basis, to others, it has also served a much more greater role in the preservation of Taiwanese history, which has been a monumental success and in turn we all end up profitting from the continued investment in the nation’s heritage.

With more than two dozen buildings, it would be difficult (and time consuming) to go over the architectural design of each of them like I usually do. That being said, taking into consideration that Huashan was originally a distillery, most of the buildings within the park tend to be generic warehouses anyway, so there isn’t much to talk about with regard to their design. There are, nonetheless, a number of buildings within the park that are quite beautiful, so don’t let the ‘generic’ description fool you.

With regard to the photos I’m sharing today, it is admittedly difficult to gain access to the buildings when they’re empty as they’re always in some sort of transition period - So if I’ve got photos of the buildings, I’ll provide them for better reference, but this is an aspect of the article where I’ll provide updates as I continue visiting and collecting more photos.

On the map above, I’ve numbered each of the buildings, and below I’ll briefly explain their original purpose, and what they’re used for today, so that you can have a better understanding of each of them.

Today, the former distillery is split up into four different sections, namely, the ‘East’ (東區), ‘West’ (西區), ‘Central’ (中區) and the ‘Plaza’ (廣場區) sections - At any given time, the best way to know what is taking place at the park is to check out the map on the official Huashan website as these things are constantly changing; Admittedly, the Chinese-language map is the one that gets updated more frequently, so I’d suggest checking that one out instead of the English one.

Link: Huashan 1914 Creative Park: Map (English) | 地圖 (中文)


Eastern Section (東區)

  1. Garage Workshop (車庫工坊)

One of the first buildings you’ll encounter on a visit to Huashan is the distillery’s historic garage and workshop. Over the years the building, which is split in two has been used for a number of purposes, most notably as a fire-prevention garage for the distillery. Later it was used as a distillation room, storage space and rest space for the winery.

Today the buildings continue to be split into two spaces, the smallest section home to a shop while the larger section is reserved as a restaurant space that can be rented out.

2. Red Wine Storage Warehouses (紅露酒貯藏庫)

One of the areas where a lot of the writing and research about the Taipei Distillery gets lost in translation is with regard to four of the most important exhibition spaces within the park. Mistakenly translated at times as the ‘Chinese Red Wine Factory’, these four buildings weren’t actually involved in the production of alcohol. If you’re asking me, a better translation to describe the buildings is probably ‘Red Wine Storage Warehouses’ as they were constructed as storage space for all of the alcohol that imported to Taiwan prior to being sent out to the market.

Also known as the ‘four-connected buildings’ (四連棟), the buildings as they appear now differ in their appearance from how they would have when they were originally constructed in 1933 (昭和8年) - This is because in the early 1980s when the government was widening Jinshan North Road (金山北路), the size of three of the buildings had to be reduced.

Now, each of the four rectangular-shaped warehouses varies in length. Nevertheless, the buildings were constructed with reinforced concrete and steel beams to help stabilize the roof, which is supported by iron roof trusses. As one would expect with a warehouse, the interior space is simply a corridor-like space with various steel beams throughout that help to stabilize the roof.

Somewhat generic in their architectural design, one of the cool things about the buildings is that they have been overtaken by nature and are completely covered with Japanese ivy (爬牆虎), a type of vine that is somewhat hilariously translated into English literally as ‘Wall-Climbing Tiger.’ The vines cover much of the facade of the buildings, also covering up the their arc-shaped windows and stone-washed lattices, but admittedly do a pretty good job giving the buildings more character.

Today, the four buildings are reserved specifically as exhibition spaces and there’s always something interesting happening inside them. Whenever you visit Huashan, it’s quite normal to find lines of people outside of the buildings waiting to get into an exhibition or taking photos against the wall with the vines.

3. Plum Wine Distillery (烏梅酒廠)

The Plum Wine building is one of the newer buildings within the historic distillery, dating back to 1931 (昭和6年), it is architecturally distinct from the other buildings on-site. The long rectangular-shaped building was constructed with concrete and differing from the other buildings in with distillery, features iron roof trusses to help stabilize the roof. The sides of the building feature some windows, but in order to control the amount of natural light entering the building, they are equipped with window grills to ensure that the wine isn’t disturbed during its distillery process, but also allowing for some natural air to come into the building through the windows.

Today the building is referred to as the “Umay Theater” (烏梅戲院), “Umay” being a romanized transliteration of “smoked plum” (烏梅), and is used primarily as a space for performing arts, with a stage constructed within for live events. As an event space, the building isn’t open to the public as often as some of the others on site, so unless you’re attending an event within, it’s difficult to see what’s inside!


Central Section (中區)

The most complicated section of the park, the “Central Section” is home to a number of buildings that served as the beating heart of the distillery, especially with regard to the production of alcohol. The buildings within this section are not only some of the most important, but are also some of the largest within the park, and serve a number of roles today.   

4. High Tower Building (高塔區)

The so-called ‘High Tower Buildings’ section of the distillery are a collection of three buildings that are likely to be part of your first impression of Huashan as they’re the closest to the main entrance. The ‘high’ part is simply a three-storey ‘tower’, and not really all that high when you compare it with, uh, Taipei 101. The other two parts of the building consist of a a two-floor section and a single-floor section, all of which are connected.

Prior to doing research for this article, I had assumed that these three buildings were used as the administration area of the distillery, given their appearance, but in actuality they were integral parts of the production process. Split into three sections, the front sections were home to a research laboratory and a quality-control facility while the brick section later become home to a fruit wine production area.

One of the reasons why I assumed that the buildings were part of an administrative headquarters was in part due to their location near the front of the distillery, but the other was because of their architectural design. Constructed in 1920 (大正9年), the exterior of the two larger buildings feature a meticulous attention to detail, especially with regard to their symmetry.

The walls were finished with stucco, something that the other buildings on-site weren’t afforded and they both feature vertical windows on the upper levels, and beautiful arched windows on the ground level.

The longer rectangular section of the building was constructed with red brick, and looks as if it were a later addition to the other buildings. Although the roofs on each of the buildings are basic in their architectural design, you’ll want to take note of the direction that the slopes face, with the highest level and lowest level facing the same direction, while the middle building faces the opposite direction, a deliberate design technique for controlling the flow of rain water.

Today, the three buildings are split into six sections, each of which serves a different purpose - Home to a Tourist Information Centre (服務中心), restaurants, and stores that focus on Taiwan-centric design products. Together with the ‘Huashan Forum’ (華山劇場), a patch of grass in front of the buildings, this section of the park is always one of the busiest areas of the park as there is always something happening.

5. Sake Distillery (清酒工坊)

Dating back to 1914 (大正3年), the Sake Distillery building was one of the first buildings constructed within the Houji Distillery and as you might have guessed, it was used for the production of Japanese rice wine with the head office of the company located on the second floor. As one of the most important buildings within the complex, the sake distillery was constructed with Taiwan’s climate in mind with one-meter thick concrete walls that kept the interior of the building cool in summer and warm in winter.

Sadly, even though the Sake Distillery is regarded as the oldest building within the park, its important to note that it underwent some refurbishment in the 1960s which altered its appearance. Nevertheless, while the building is lacking in decorative elements, it does feature beautiful arc-shaped windows on all four sides of the second floor where an ample amount of natural light is able to enter the building.

Today, the second floor is used as a multi-functional cultural exhibition space while the first floor is home to the Fab Cafe, an interesting space where designers get together to discuss projects, hold seminars and workshops, while also acting as a space where the general public can enjoy light meals and hand brewed coffee.

6. Wine Production Buildings (紅酒米酒作業場)

One of the largest sections of the historic distillery, located directly in the middle of the park, you’ll find a collection of warehouse-style buildings that were once home to production facilities for Red Wine (紅酒) and Rice Wine (米酒). Although it may seem like this section of the park is just one large inter-connected building, it’s actually three workshops constructed side by side and sharing the same roof.

Constructed in 1933 (昭和8年), these two-storey buildings were constructed with reinforced concrete and bricks, and like the warehouses mentioned above feature iron truss columns that rise up from the floor to help stabilize the roof. Each section of the roof features a slope that runs north-south, perpendicular to the alleyways that run between the buildings, where you’ll find a number of trees and plants were planted to enjoy the rainwater that fell from the roofs.

Given that these buildings were instrumental in the production of alcohol, the doors are quite large, allowing for the alcohol to be easily transported elsewhere. The interior space of these buildings would have been quite spacious during the distillery’s heyday, but this is one area where the restoration of the park took some liberties to ensure that the large space could be used much more efficiently. The three parts of the warehouse are currently split up into eight sections with the larger front sections serving as exhibition spaces while the rear area has been opened up for private partnerships that feature restaurants and stores.

7. The Compounded Liquor Distillery (再製酒作業場)

Possibly one of the most popular buildings within the park today, the historic ‘Compounded Liquor Distillery’ dates back to 1933 (昭和8年) and is once again just a long rectangular warehouse. Unlike some of the other warehouses on site though, this one features a more traditional elevated roof, which was constructed with wood and doesn’t require columns within the interior to help keep it stabilized. This traditional approach to the building’s architectural design has become quite important given that the space is currently used for 'Legacy,’ one of Taipei’s most important concert venues.

Thanks to the large spacious interior, converting this space into a concert venue was one of the best decisions that could have been made, and as the building is nearing its centennial, the name ‘Legacy’ seems quite fitting. That being said, unless you’re attending a concert within the building, it’s not likely that you’ll just be able to walk in whenever you want. There’s a lot of expensive sound equipment inside and they don’t want random tourists messing around with it.

Link: Legacy (Official Website)

8. Packaging Factory (包裝工場)

Strategically located to the rear of the distillery, you’d find the Packaging Factory, which served a dual-role as a packaging and storage facility for all of the products passing through the distillery. Located to the rear of the distillery, products would have been easily transported the short distance to Huashan Station (Kabayama Station 華山駅) where they could be easily transported across the island.

The building dates back to 1931 (昭和6年) and its design is similar to most of the other rectangular workshops within the park. Divided between its eastern and western sections, the longest part of the building is a single-floor section with an arched roof while the western section is a modern-looking two-storey building with a flat roof. Over the years the western partition of the building served a number of roles with the Monopoly Bureau having offices within and in the post-war period, a police presence was added for security.

Suffice to say, even though the packaging and storage building was once one of the busiest sections of the distillery, it was also the area that suffered the most when the distillery was abandoned in the 1980s. During the restoration process, parts of the building weren’t able to be saved, but that also allowed for the restoration team to take some liberties as the plan for this section of the park was to install a movie theatre.

Losing much of its historic appearance, the packaging building today is home to the SPOT Huashan Cinema (光點華山電影館), the SPOT Design Studio (光點生活) and SPOT Cafe Lumiere (光點咖啡時光). Under the direction of the Taiwan Film Culture Association (台灣電影文化協會) and famed Taiwanese director Hou Hsiao-hsien (侯孝賢), the theatre has become a popular spot for independent film and film festivals in the city and often holds events where people in the film industry show up with the local media following along.

Link: SPOT 光點 Huashan Cinema (Official Website)

9. Maintenance Workshops (維修工廠)

Located to the rear of the Sake Distillery, you’ll find the ‘Maintenance Workshop’ buildings, each of date back to 1931 (昭和6年). This space is split up into three different sections and was important with regard to the upkeep of the factory and its operation. The largest building appears similar to many of the other rectangular warehouse buildings within the distillery, but it was where the on-site engineers would repair machinery.

Within the same building was the Electricity Distribution Building (配電室), or the ‘Switching Room’, which housed an electrical substation that ensured that power was never an issue. Finally, to the rear of the building was a separate building, one of the smallest within the park, and was essentially just a nicely designed tool shed.

Today the main workshop building is reserved as a space for performance art events and exhibitions while the tool shed is often rented out for a variety of pop-up shops. Notably, the exterior of the building is home to a beautiful banyan tree and a space where people often sit to chat with friends and enjoy some of the street performers who occupy the space on the weekends.

10. Distillery Building (蒸餾室)

Constructed in 1933 (昭和8年), the three-storey distillery building was connected directly to the Rice Wine Workshop and helped to streamline the distillaition process with a space that was reserved specifically for distilling the alcohol rather than doing it all in the same building.

The interior of the three-floor building features circular perforations in the floors that allowed the tall distilling machines to stand upright without wasting space. Like many of the other buildings on site, the building features large arch-shaped windows and was constructed using thick reinforced concrete to help keep the heat of the hot summer out of the building.

Today the building is used as an exhibition space and a spot for pop-up stores selling locally-made products, and is located within the beautiful covered corridor where you’ll find a number of restaurants and shops.

11. Broiler Room and Smokestack (鍋爐室 + 煙囪)

Dating back to 1931 (昭和6年), the Broiler Room and its iconic smokestack were added to the distillery during the same expansion project as the Maintenance Workshops mentioned earlier. As the main source of power for the distillery, the building was home to a brick furnace that was a hub for supplying steam to the various buildings in the distillery. The exhaust from the generation process was released through the smokestack, which has a diameter of about 2.5 meters at its widest and is 50 meters high, although it was shortened in the 1970s when the boiler fuel was changed from coal to oil.

The Broiler Room is used today as a venue for performances and exhibitions, but to tell the truth, despite visiting the park on dozens of occasions, I’ve sadly never actually had the opportunity to enter the building as it tends to be one of most elusive places to gain access to within the park.


Western Section (西區)

12. Camphor Refinery Buildings (紅磚六合院)

The red-brick camphor refinery section in the north-west of the park are (for me) the most interesting buildings in the park, at least architecturally speaking. Dating back to 1917 (大正6年), the collection of seven buildings oversaw both the rise and the fall of the camphor industry in Taiwan, and were one of the most important processing facilities in the north, especially since they had direct access to the main railroad line via Huashan Station.

Originally a joint venture with the Mitsui (三井) and Suzuki (鈴木) companies, the refinery later became the Taipei Branch of the Nippon Camphor Company (日本樟腦株式會社台北支店).

Constructed with red-brick and reinforced concrete, the six buildings in this section (currently split into seven) feature the most decorative elements out of any of the buildings within the park today.

Despite the interior space of the buildings generally just consisting of open corridors, the exterior is where you’ll find much of the decorative elements and designs that are more Japanese in their inspiration.

Thanks to the reinforced concrete walls, each of the buildings feature a large number of windows on all four sides, which allow an ample amount of natural light. The roof of each of the buildings is supported by a genius network of wooden roof trusses within the interior that allow it to distribute weight evenly and eclipse the base of the building in size.

While not as decorative as what you’d expect from the roofs of more traditional Japanese-era buildings, the buildings festure double-layered four sided irimoya-style (入母屋) roofs that slope on both sides. Constructed with a ‘courtyard’ type of design, the buildings have beautiful passageways that would have offered easy access to anyone working in the refinery. Today those passage ways are lit by beautiful Japanese-style street lights that help to illuminate the beautiful red brick at night, making this a popular space for photoshoots.

Today, the largest of the seven buildings are used as exhibition spaces while others are reserved for private partnerships, which include restaurants, pop-up stores and coffeeshops. If it weren’t already obvious from the amount of photos I have of this section, this space is favorite part of any trip to Huashan as it tends to be a lot quieter (depending on what exhibitions are taking place) and because of the way that nature has been allowed to take control of the area, making it quiet and providing a comfortable amount of shade during the hot summer days.

Getting There

 

Address: #1, Section 1, Bade Road, Zhongzheng District, Taipei

中正區八德路一段1號

GPS: 25.04381,121.52887

Conveniently located within the heart of Taipei, the Huashan 1914 Creative Park is a short walk from Zhongxiao Xinsheng MRT Station (忠孝新生捷運站), making getting there quite easy. A visit to Huashan is made even better in that visitors can also take some time to pay a visit to the nearby Qidong Street Dorms (齊東街日式宿舍), another recently restored set of Japanese-era buildings that have been reopened as a culture park.

Likewise, you’ll find the popular Guanghua Digital Plaza (光華商場) and Syntrend (三創生活園區), two of Taipei’s most popular technology shopping centers nearby. A visit to the area can include both a look at the history of the capital as well as its future with Taiwanese technological prowess on display nearby!

MRT

  1. Zhongxiao Xinsheng Station (忠孝新生捷運站) - From Exit 1 (1號出口) walk straight down Zhongxiao East Road (忠孝東路) for three to five minutes and you’ll arrive at Huashan.

  2. Shandao Temple Station (善導寺捷運站) - From Exit 6 (6號出口) walk straight down Zhongxiao East Road (忠孝東路) for about five minutes until you reach Huashan.

  3. Taipei Station (台北車站) - From MRT Exit M2, walk straight down Civic Boulevard (市民大道) for about ten to fifteen minutes until you reach the rear of Huashan. On the way you’ll pass by the Sun Yat Sen Memorial House (逸仙公園), a Japanese-era hotel where Dr. Sun Yat Sen once stayed during a short trip to Taiwan

Bus

Conveniently located a short distance from the front entrance to Huashan, you’ll find four major bus stops that will help you get to the park quite easily. Of the four, the most convenient is the Huashan 1914 Creative Park Bus Stop, but there are also a number of other options close by.

  1. Huashan 1914 Creative Park Bus Stop (華山文創園區站) - 247, 205, 212, 220, 232, 257, 262, 276

  2. Huashan Park Bus Stop (華山公園站) - 669

  3. Taipei Technological University Bus Stop (台北科技大學站) - 205, 257, 276

  4. Zhongxiao Elementary School Bus Stop (忠孝國小站) - 202, 212, 231, 232, 299, 600, 605

Click on any of the bus routes above for the route map and real-time information for each of the buses. If you haven’t already, I recommend using the Taipei eBus website or downloading the “台北等公車” app to your phone, which makes it easier to map out your trip and find the nearest bus stops to wherever you are located.

Link: Bus Tracker (臺北等公車) - Apple | Android

Youbike

Making your visit to Huashan even more convenient, the park is surrounded by three Youbike docking stations where you can pick up a bike or drop one off for your visit. Serviced by both Youbike 1.0 and 2.0, you’ll be able to ride a bike from wherever you are in the city.

You’ll find one of the docking stations to the left of the main entrance on Zhongxiao East Road (忠孝東路), the second next to Syntrend along the Civic Boulevard (市民大道), and the third at the rear entrance to the park along Beiping East Road (北平東路).

If you haven’t already, I highly recommend downloading the Youbike App to your phone so that you’ll have a better idea of the location where you’ll be able to find the closest docking station.

Links: Youbike 1.0 - Apple / Android | Youbike 2.0 - Apple / Android

Rich in history, the Huashan 1914 Creative Park brilliantly puts on display the artistic and creative future of Taiwan. As I mentioned earlier, no visit to the park will ever be the same, and as part of the beating cultural heart of Taipei, there is always something new and exciting to see and do whenever you visit - Whether you’re there simply as a tourist, or for one of the exhibitions, a concert, or just for a meal - a visit to Huashan is always going to be an interesting experience.

If you’re traveling to Taiwan, I can’t recommend enough that you take some time to pay a visit to the park. And if you’re living here, it’s also a pretty idea to keep track of the events and exhibitions that are taking place in the park, as there is always something interesting happening.

References

  1. Huashan 1914 Creative Park | 華山1914文化創意產業園區 (Wiki)

  2. Taiwan Monopoly Bureau | 專賣局 (Wiki)

  3. 臺北州 | 樺山町 (Wiki)

  4. 建國啤酒廠 | 高砂麥酒 (Wiki)

  5. 臺北酒廠 (國家文化資產網)

  6. 台灣日治時期總督府專賣局建築之研究-以台灣南部地區案例為例 (陳信安)

  7. [北市中正].台北酒廠(華山文化園區)(Tony的自然人文旅記)

  8. 本廠歷史沿革三道酒泉合流為一 (桃園酒廠)


Cherry Blossoms in Fukuoka (福岡櫻花)

It may seem like there will never be an official ‘end’ to the COVID-19 pandemic, but finally after some difficult years, we’ve gotten to a point where we’ve been vaccinated enough that we’re able to live with the virus. With restrictions across the world easing, even in countries that imposed the strictest mandates, tourism has started to make a comeback, and people are eager to hop on a plane and enjoying life!

I’m sure, like so many around the world, the inability to travel for the duration of the pandemic was quite frustrating - and like myself, many of you probably came up with grand plans of traveling to distant lands when it all came to an end. Personally, I figured that my first overseas trip in a post-pandemic world would see me flying back home in Canada to visit family, or back to Europe for some more backpacking.

I had a bit of a rude awakening in that department, though, as flights back home, were priced at double, or even triple their pre-pandemic prices. So, instead of an ambitious trip to a far distant land, we decided to stay close to home, and celebrate my birthday with a quick trip to the southern Japanese island of Kyushu.

The plan was to fly into Fukuoka (福岡縣), stay there for a few days, rent a car to drive to the north of the island, then head south to a popular hot spring resort for my birthday before returning to the city. If you follow my Instagram, you’re likely aware that one of my favorite things to eat is Japanese ramen, and Fukuoka is pretty much the birthplace of Tonkotsu (豚骨) ramen, so I was quite content with the decision to spend some time there.

One of the highlights of the trip, however, was to be the cherry blossoms, which were forecast to start blooming the day after our arrival. After years of taking photos of cherry blossoms all over Taiwan, I was excited that I was finally going to be able to see them in all their glory in Japan, taking part in an annual ritual of blossom viewing known as ‘hanami’ (花見 / はなみ), which remains one of the special cultural links that the people of Taiwan share with the Japanese.

Link: Taiwan Cherry Blossom Guide (臺灣櫻花地圖)

On our first day in Fukuoka, the weather was quite nice, but the forecast for the rest of the week, unfortunately, wasn’t looking very promising, so after having a bowl of ramen, and checking out a couple of small shrines near our hotel, we decided to try our luck and head over to the city’s Maizuru Park (舞鶴公園), to see if any of the trees were blooming.

Sadly, we were several days early, and all we saw were the buds on the trees.

We probably should have known better though.

The Japanese are experts when it comes to their ‘hanami’ forecast, and they have a scientifically exact blooming schedule for every city in the country, which is something that doesn’t seem like it ever fails.

Link: Fukuoka Cherry Blossom / Sakura Guide 2023 (Fukuoka Now)

What I ended up discovering over the next few days of the trip was that no matter where you go, there are cherry blossoms blooming pretty much everywhere. It didn’t matter if we were just walking around the city, visiting shrines in the mountains, or simply just driving along the highway.

They were everywhere..

For the first few days, I got pretty excited seeing them, and wanted to stop and take photos, but to tell the truth, the novelty wore off pretty quickly, and after a few days, I started feeling like they were like the Tung Blossoms (油桐花) that turn the mountains of Taiwan white in April and May.

It’s a bit of a running joke, even though they’re quite beautiful, but people in Taiwan refer to tung blossoms as ‘mold’ on the mountains, because they make Taiwan’s beautiful mountains look as if parts of them are rotting. As we traversed the highway on our way from Fukuoka to the northern part of the island, I couldn’t help to notice the similarities as there were cherry trees all over the mountains.

Link: The Different Varieties of Cherry Blossoms in Japan From Light Pink to Radiant Yellow (Japan Travel)

That being said, after a week of seeing cherry blossoms all over northern Kyushu, I have to admit I wasn’t actually prepared for what I was going to experience on our return to Fukuoka.

We arrived in town in the early afternoon, dropped our bags off at our hotel, dropped off our rental car, and then started to make our way to the park where Fukuoka holds its annual cherry blossom festival.

As we approached the park, the amount of people on the streets started growing dramatically. It was the busiest I had seen the city during our trip, and there were so many smiling, happy people that we knew that we were about to see something special. As we got closer, and the blossoms started to come into sight, I was awestruck.

All of the trees that were bare just a few days earlier had completed transformed, and we were in hanami-heaven!

Maizuru Park is home to about a thousand trees, including nineteen different species of cherry, with the Somei-Yoshino (染井吉野櫻 / ソメイヨシノ) and the ‘Weeping-Cherry' Shidarezakura (枝垂櫻 / シダレザクラ) being the most common varieties. To celebrate the blossoming season, the city hosts the ‘Fukuoka Castle Sakura Festival’ and invites vendors to set up stalls within the park, offering some really great food and drinks to all the people coming to view the blossoms. They also install lights throughout the park, which light up the historic castle walls, and more importantly so that the cherry blossoms can be enjoyed both during the day and the night.

Company picnic in the park with copious amounts of sake!

Not only did I get to enjoy my first Japanese hanami experience, I took more photos than I can count, and then as the sun went down we visited the food area and enjoyed some takoyaki (章魚燒) octopus balls, (which I have to admit were so much better than anything we get here in Taiwan), some of Fukuoka’s famed yakitori (焼き鳥), chicken skewers, and some locally made craft beer, before heading back out to take more photos of the trees after they were lit up.

It ended up being a great conclusion to my birthday celebrations in Japan, and over the next few weeks (or months), you’re likely to see more articles about the places I visited during the trip, but until then, enjoy some of the photos I took of the cherry blossoms.

Ogon Shrine (黃金神社)

Writing as extensively as I do about the history of Taiwan’s Japanese colonial era, I’ve been asked several times over the years why I’ve yet to publish anything about the remnants of the ‘Golden Shrine’ near the popular tourist town of Jiufen (九分). Given that I’ve written about a handful of the other shrines that remain (in some form) in Taiwan, as well as publishing articles about Stegosaurus Ridge (劍龍稜) and the Teapot Mountain (無耳茶壺山) hikes - which offer up a birds eye view of the shrine - its understandable that one might wonder why I haven’t covered what has arguably become one of Taiwan’s most well-known Shinto Shrines.

Like most people, I eagerly paid a visit to the Golden Museum (黃金博物館) in Jinguashi (金瓜石) shortly after it’s official opening. However, that visit came shortly after I arrived in the country, and like most newbies, I didn’t really have much idea about what was going on. Thinking back, although I didn’t actually realize it at the time, that particular visit may have been my first experience exploring something related to the Japanese-era.

The popularity of the museum in its early days meant that the area was absolutely packed with tourists on weekends, and as the shrine was an important part of any visit to the area, it was also a pretty popular spot. At that time though, photography was more or less just a hobby for me, and to tell the truth, I was mesmerized by the mountains, so I didn’t didn’t pay all that much attention to the shrine.

I did end up visiting once again several years later, but on that occasion, the shrine was just a short detour on a hike through the mountains, so I just stopped by for a quick minute before continuing further up the trail. That, unfortunately would have been my best opportunity to get the photos I needed, but I missed out, which is something I’ve regretted for quite a few years.

In 2017, the path to the shrine was gated shut and for the next five years it underwent a period of restoration, which helped to bring parts of the shrine (that were unscrupulously knocked down) back to life. It was also a project that saw the planting of hundreds of cherry trees, which in the future should make the shrine an even more popular spot for tourists.

All of that being said, I’m actually relieved that I didn’t write about the shrine after my second visit. By that time I had been in Taiwan for several years, but the amount of knowledge I had accumulated with regard to Taiwan’s history, the Japanese-era, and Shinto Shrines was no where near what I accumulated now after years of research and experience writing about these things. Thus, the information I’m able to provide readers with today will comprehensively combine the history of the shrine, the community that surrounds it, and its architectural design.

Closed for half a decade, the Golden Shrine reopened to the public in late 2022, and its reemergence has been an important catalyst for attracting tourists back to the Golden Museum, once again becoming a popular spot for all of the loal Instagrammers looking for a fresh location to take photos!

However, even though most people are quite content that the shrine has finally been reopened, there has also been some criticism in some circles regarding the length of time that the shrine was closed. More specifically, critics have openly questioned why the shrine wasn’t completely restored to its original likeness, similar to how the Luye Shinto Shrine (鹿野神社) in Taitung was brought back to life.

Personally, I find myself relatively content with the work that has been done to restore the shrine (minus a few minor gripes), and I’m not particularly sure why anyone would want to restore it to its original condition. As a ‘ruined’ site, the shrine allows us to experience a piece of Taiwan’s modern history, but also provides a lesson as to the effort to erase memories of the Japanese-era in the half-century since the Second World War came to an end.

I’d also argue that it would be relatively pointless to completely reconstruct the shrine if they weren’t going to invite the ‘kami’ to return, something that might be a touchy subject in certain circles. Instead, I’m content that there are a number of well-preserved historic photos of the shrine that allow us to see how it would have originally appeared during the Japanese-era, some of which I’ll be sharing with you today.

As I move on, I’m going to start with an introduction of the history of the shrine, and the Jinguashi gold mines. I’ll then follow with a brief timeline of events, and then I’ll provide details about the shrine’s architectural design, so that you can better understand what you’ll see if and when you visit.

Now that the shrine has been reopened, visitors to Taiwan have a ‘golden’ opportunity (forgive the pun) to visit this amazing piece of Taiwanese history. Making that golden opportunity even more attractive is that any visit to the area can may also include with a number of other popular tourist destination including Jiufen Old Street (九份老街), the Golden Waterfall (黃金瀑布), the Gold Museum (黃金博物館), or any of the hiking trails on the mountains nearby. A day-trip, or even a weekend trip to the area is a rewarding one, and is something that every tourist visiting Taiwan does at least once!

Ogon Shrine (黃金神社 / おうごんじんじゃ)

Over the span of Taiwan’s fifty year Japanese colonial era, there were about two hundred Shinto Shrines constructed around the island. The first of them was the Kaizan Shinto Shrine (開山神社/かいざんじんじゃ) in Tainan, which just so happened to be established on the the original site of the Yanping King Shrine (延平郡王祠). The Chinese-style temple had originally honored the pirate-king Koxinga (鄭成功), but if we’re being picky, the first shrine constructed in Taiwan was technically the Ogon Shrine, located on the northern coast of the island.

Whether it was the ‘first’ or the ‘second’ shrine in Taiwan probably isn’t all that important, but as one of Taiwan’s earliest Shinto Shrines, it has a history that dates back more than 125 years - but I can’t really explain the history of the shrine to you without first providing some basic information about the area where it was constructed, who constructed it, and why it was constructed, because all of these things are very much linked together.

Links: Fairy Cave Temple, Keelung Shrine, Taoyuan Shrine, Luye Shrine, Hualien Shrine, Taitung Shrine, Tamsui Shrine, Yilan Shrine, Yuanshan Shrine, Tungxiao Shrine, Kaizan Shrine

When the Japanese arrived in Taiwan in 1895, it’s safe to say that the situation they were confronted with was pretty hostile - The fleeing Qing forces did their best to sabotage and slow down efforts to take administrative control of the island, and the local inhabitants put up quite a bit of resistance as well. Even worse was the environment, which in the end did the most harm to the Japanese armed forces who were met with deadly foes named malaria, pneumonia, dysentery, cholera and smallpox.

By 1897, the government established ‘Taihoku-ken’ (臺北縣 / たいほくけん), an administrative space that encompassed what we know today as New Taipei, Taipei, Keelung, Taoyuan, Hsinchu and Yilan, in an effort to get the island’s major settlements under some kind of control.

Looking to take control of the island’s rich natural resources, in 1896, the colonial government passed the Taiwan Mining Regulations Act (台灣礦業規則), which limited the extraction of Taiwan’s minerals solely to Japanese nationals. One of the first areas allocated for mining operations was Keelung Mountain (雞籠山) on the island’s north coast.

The mountain was initially partitioned into different sections, with the eastern side leased out to Tanaka Choubee (田中長兵衛 / たなか ちょうべえ), who headed the Tanaka Group (田中組) and after about a year of preparation, mining started in the area in 1897, which by that time was known as Kinkaseki (金瓜石/きんかせき).

Note: Interestingly, the name ‘Jinguashi’ (金瓜石) only predated the Japanese era by about two years. Records indicate that around 1893, a farmer was exploring the area and discovered a gold nugget, which soon attracted a bunch of other people looking for gold. The nugget was reportedly the size of a melon, thus the name.

At its heart, Shintoism is a philosophy that promotes a quality of ‘oneness’ with the natural world, and respect for nature. That being said, Taiwan’s development required a considerable amount of natural resources, so when it came to mining, something that is destructive to the natural environment, it was important to also pay homage to the spirits of the mountain. Thus, in 1898 (明治31年), the first generation ‘Ogon Shrine’ (第一代黃金神社) was established by the Tanaka Group.

With nine pits excavated at the Kinkaseki Mines (金瓜山礦場), as mining efforts gradually went moved into the mountain, it was discovered that gold wasn’t the only treasure in the hills, but there was also vast amounts of silver, copper and sulfur. Eventually the Kinkaseki Mines would become one of the most important mining operations in the Japanese empire.

That being said, economic stagnation caused by the First World War drove the international value of raw materials down for the duration of the war. This created financial issues for the Tanaka Group, which ended up restructuring its business and selling its mining rights to the Tanaka Mining Company (田中礦業株式會社) in the 1920s. Then, about a decade later, due to a lack of capital, the land lease was sold off to the Nippon Mining Company (日本鑛業株式會社), which officially changed its name to the Taiwan Mining Company (台湾鉱業株式会社) in 1933 (昭和8年).

Looking at historic photos of the shrine, one thing you might notice is that at some point the architectural design changed completely - Even though there are only a few remaining photos of the original shrine, what we can observe from them is that the shrine went from something that could be considered rather basic to a replication of one of Japan’s oldest and most important Shinto Shrines, the Ise Grand Shrine (伊勢神宮 / いせじんぐう).

Said to be about two-thousand years old, the architectural design of the Ise Grand Shrine is one that constantly changes. Known in Japan as ‘Yuitsu-shinmei' (唯一神明造 / ゆいいつしんめいづくり), is an ancient architectural style that imitates early rice granaries. The important thing to remember here is that the word ‘yuitsu’ (唯一) translates literally as ‘only’ or ‘unique’ which means that the Grand Shrine is the only place of worship that is permitted to use this style today. Thus, the Ogon Shrine, like many other Shinto Shrines across Japan, uses a variation known as ‘shinmei' (神明造 / しんめいづくり) design.

The reason I’m bringing this up this now is because the Ise Shrine, and other shrines that make use of the ‘shinmei’ design, often appear relatively new (despite their age), due to the fact that important sections of the shrine are reconstructed every few decades, which I’ll explain in more detail later.

Link: Ise Grand Shrine (Wiki)

When the Taiwan Mining Company took control of the Kinkaseki Mines in the early 1930s, they put forward an expansion project that would see the reconstruction of the shrine’s Hall of Worship. The Second Generation Ogon Shrine (第二代黃金神社) opened in 1936 (昭和11年), after a period of reconstruction, marking an important occasion for the local community, which was, to say the least, thriving at the time. Nevertheless, given that time frame and the relatively short lifespan of shrines that make use of this architectural style, it was likely due for another face lift in the mid-1950s, something that would ultimately would never take place.

Interestingly, the three deities, or ‘kami’ (神 / かみ), that were enshrined at the Golden Shrine differed somewhat from those that you would have typically encountered at the other shrines across Taiwan, but with more than a million ‘kami’, you would have obviously come across a wide variety of figures in the two-hundred shrines that were constructed around the country.

Keeping in mind that Shintoism was more or less a ‘foreign’ religion to the people of Taiwan, in the early days of the colonial era, the Japanese tended to enshrine deities that were easily identifiable with the people of Taiwan. This effort could be interpreted as a means to ease the people into their new state religion, or it could have just been a reflection of the situation on the island at the time, but the kami that became the most common at shrines in Taiwan shared similarities with the folk religion deities that people here identified with.

The Three Deities of Cultivation (開拓三神 / かいたくさんじん), for example, became quite common within Taiwan’s Shrines as they were deities known for their skills with regard to ‘nation-building’, ‘farming’, ‘business’ and ‘medicine’. Even though it is also common to find shrines dedicated in their honor back in Japan, they were especially important in Taiwan due to what they represented, which shared parallels with the Earth God (土地公 / 福德正神), who remains one of the most important religious figures in Taiwan today.

That being said, the ‘kami’ that became the most common within Taiwan’s shrines would have been housed within the larger places of worship, which focused more on the general public, such as the Taoyuan Shinto Shrine (桃園神社). Shrines like the Golden Shrine in contrast were a bit more flexible with the deities who were invited to take up residence. That flexibility allowed them to focus more on themes that were important with regard to the environment, local economy and the community living in the area.

To give you an example, the kami that was enshrined at the Taipei Water Shrine, known today as the Yuanshan Shinto Shrine (圓山水神社), was one who focused on water. Thus, as you can imagine, at the Golden Shrine, the deities would have focused on mining and facets of the environment.

The three kami that were enshrined at the Golden Shrine were:

  1. Ōkuninushi (大國魂大神 / おおくにたまのかみ)

  2. Kanayamahiko (金山毘古神 (金山彦命 / かなやまひこのかみ)

  3. Sarutahiko (猿田彥大神 / さるたひこのかみ)

Starting with ‘Okuninushi-no-Kami’, one of ‘three deities of cultivation’ mentioned above, he is regarded as the god of nation-building, agriculture, medicine and protection. The next figure, one of the ‘Great Deities’ (大神) of Shintoism, ‘Sarutahiko Okami’, is the leader of the kunitsukami (国つ神), or the ‘gods of the earth’. Finally ‘Kanayamahiko-no-kami', is the god of mines.

As you can see, in each of these three cases, the selection of deities speaks to the specialized focus of the shrine with regard to its focus on the land and the mines on the mountains that surrounded it.

Note: I should probably also point out that each of these three deities are quite old and are the subject of myths and legends detailed in the Kojiki (古事記 / こじき) and the Nihon Shoki (日本書紀 / にほんしょき), which date back to the early 8th Century. Thus, they share a relationship with the origins of the earth, the islands that make up Japan, and the mythical ancestry of kami that were spawned from Izanagi and Izanami.

Coincidentally, the shrine’s annual matsuri festival (祭 / まつり) was conveniently held on June 28th, which just so happened to be the same date as Jiufen’s annual Mazu Pilgrimage (媽祖遶境), making the date a pretty important one for the people of Jiufen and Jinguashi, and was one where all the laborers and students were given a day off of work to celebrate.

Matsuri time at the Golden Shrine

Segueing back into the shrine’s history, when the Japanese-era came to an end in 1945 (民國34年), mining operations at Jinguashi were put on hold for a short time until the Chinese Nationalists were able to figure out how to get production back online. In 1946, the Taiwan Gold and Copper Office (臺灣金銅鑛籌備處) was established by the government in order to restructure mining operations on the island. Much of Jinguashi’s wealth ended up being dedicated to funding the Nationalists (futile) effort to defeat the Communists in the Chinese Civil War (國共內戰).

When Chiang Kai-Shek’s Nationalist Government fled to Taiwan, bringing with them almost two million refugees, life on the island changed almost overnight, and over the next several decades the Taiwanese people would have to endure what would become one of the world’s longest periods of Martial Law, known locally as the White Terror Period (白色恐怖).

Over the next few decades, Taiwan’s new inhabitants exhibited a considerable amount of anti-Japanese sentiment, and it was during that time that the vast majority of buildings that were related to Japanese culture or religion were vandalized, torn down, or replaced.

Constructed on the side of a mountain.

You could probably argue that the saving grace when it came to the Golden Shrine was that it was constructed on the remote side of a mountain, so unlike the majority of Taiwan’s other shrines, it was never really in any danger of getting in the way of development. That being said, the shrine did fall victim to vandalism over the years, leaving the site in ruins. Going back to a point I made earlier though, it is unclear as to whether or not the main parts of the shrine were vandalized or if they just suffered from lack of up-keep.

Nevertheless, several decades after the war ended, natural resources within Jinguashi’s mines were more or less depleted, and with the decrease in the international market value of copper, the Taiwan Mining Corporation was ultimately forced to declare bankruptcy.

Then, in what may come across as a very random decision, the Taiwan Power Corporation (臺灣電力公司) took ownership of the land in 1985 (民國74年), but not much could be done on their part to save the business operations, so mining in Jinguashi came to an abrupt end in 1987 (民國76年), leaving not only the shrine in ruins, but the entire mining community abandoned.

If we then fast forward to the turn of the new millennium, the Golden Shrine was selected as one of the top ten heritage sites in Taipei County - and even though it was simply an abandoned and ruined shrine, it was ranked on the list of one-hundred most important historical sites in Taiwan.

Like the shrine, the mining community fell into disrepair, but due to its historic value, the Taiwan Power Company in conjunction with the Taiwan Sugar Corporation and the Taipei County Government (Currently New Taipei City) jointly funded a restoration project to reopen the mining community as the ‘Jinguashi Gold Museum’ (黃金博物館).

Link: For some great photos of the shrine prior to its restoration, check out this article: Ōgon Shrine from Spectral Codex.

Shortly thereafter, the Golden Shrine was recognized as a protected heritage site (直轄市定古蹟), and despite it still being under the ownership of the Taiwan Power Company, it was put under the operational control of the Gold Museum, and the government was tasked with coming up with plans to have it restored.

It took about a decade, but the restoration project for the shrine officially started in 2017, with the shrine closed to the public for the duration of the project, which ultimately lasted more than anyone expected.

Reopening to the public in late 2022, the Golden Shrine has reemerged as one of New Taipei’s most iconic tourist destinations, and its rebirth seems to be one that has been celebrated by quite a few people as it has become an Instagram hot spot with people from all over the country flocking to the area to check it out.

If all of that history was a little too much for you, before I start describing the architectural design of the shrine, as I mentioned earlier, I’ll provide a helpful, yet brief timeline of events regarding the shrine:

Timeline

  • 1895 (明治28年) - The Japanese take control of Taiwan at the end of the Sino-Japanese War with the signing of the Treaty of Shimonoseki (馬關條約 / 下関条約).

  • 1896 (明治29年) - The Colonial Government enacts the Taiwan Mining Regulations (台灣礦業規則) policy in an effort to standardize and start the extraction of the island’s resources.

  • 1897 (明治30年) - The Tanaka Group starts a mining operation in Kinkaseki / Jinguashi (金瓜石田中鑛山事務所).

  • 1898 (明治31年) - The First Generation Ogon Shrine (第一代黃金神社) is established by the mining company on a flat section of the mountain’s eastern cliffs (大金瓜岩嶂東).

  • 1905 (明治38年) - The first deposits of gold and silver are discovered at the mines in Jinguashi.

  • 1913 (大正2年) - The Tanaka group purchases the Mudan Mines (牡丹坑鑛) on the opposite side of the mountain and merges it with the Jinguashi Mine.

  • 1922 - A mansion is constructed within the Japanese section of the mining community in Jinguashi in anticipation for the royal tour of Taiwan by the crown prince. The tour never actually took place however due to the death of Emperor Taisho (大正皇帝) and the ascension of Emperor Showa (昭和皇帝) to the throne.

  • 1933 (昭和10年) - Ownership of the mines is transferred to the Nippon Mining Company (日本鑛業株式會社).

  • 1936 (昭和11年) - The Colonial Government’s “Japanization” or ‘forced assimilation’ Kominka (皇民化運動) policy comes into effect in Taiwan. The same year, the mining company expanded the shrine into the Second Generation Ogon Shrine (第二代黃金神社).

  • 1945 (昭和20年) - The Second World War comes to a conclusion and Japan is forced to surrender control of Taiwan.

  • 1946 (民國35年) - The Taiwan Gold and Copper Office (臺灣金銅鑛籌備處) is set up by the Nationalist government in order to restructure mining operations on the island.

  • 1949 (民國38年) - Chiang Kai-Shek (蔣介石) and the Nationalist government retreat to Taiwan, bringing with them several million refugees displaced by the Chinese Civil War. 

  • 1955 (民國44年) - Mining operations are restructured into the Taiwan Mining Corporation (臺灣金銅鑛物局).

  • 1973 (民國62年) - With gold, silver and copper resources drying up in the mountains, the mining company attempts open-pit mining, and shifts much of the operations on the mountain into smelting and the processing of copper.

  • 1985 (民國74年) - Due to declining resources in the mine and the decrease in the international market value of copper, the Taiwan Mining Corporation is forced to declare bankruptcy with the Taiwan Power Corporation (臺灣電力公司) taking ownership of the land.

  • 1987 (民國76年) - Mining operations in Jinguashi come to an end with all of the mines shut down.

  • 2000 (民國89年) - The Golden Shrine is selected as one of the top ten heritage sites in Taipei County and is ranked #94 on the list of a hundred historical sites in Taiwan.

  • 2004 (民國93年) - The Taipei County Government in conjunction with the Taiwan Power Company and Taiwan Sugar Corporation jointly open the ‘Gold Museum’ (黃金博物館) within the historic mining community and processing areas.

  • 2007 (民國96年) - The Golden Shrine is recognized as Taipei County (Currently New Taipei City) protected heritage site (直轄市定古蹟) with ownership of the site still controlled by Taiwan Power Corporation, the site is put under the management of the Gold Museum.

  • 2010 (民國99年) - The International Armistice Peace Memorial Park (國際終戰和平紀念園區) is established on the site of the infamous Kinkaseki Prisoner of War Camp (金瓜石米英捕虜勞役所).

  • 2017 (民國106年) - A long-planned restoration of the Golden Shrine gets underway in order to preserve the remnants of the abandoned shrine.

  • 2022 (民國111年) - Restoration of the shrine is completed and is officially re-opened to the public after being closed for five years.

Architectural Design

If you’ve ever had the opportunity to visit some shrines in Japan, you’re likely to have noticed that even though their architectural design may vary, but one of the things that remains the same in almost every case is in their their spatial design. The layout of the vast majority of shrines includes several important features that are meant to assist visitors on their road from the ‘profane’ to the ‘sacred.’

Obviously, the ‘sacred journey’ that each visitor embarks upon when they visit a shrine depends on how how much space was reserved for the construction of the shrine. This may come across as somewhat confusing, but when it comes to shrines and their size, the amount of land reserved for a shrine doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll find a large shrine, while on the other hand a lack of space doesn’t mean you’ll find a small shrine. So, even though the Ogon Shrine would have been considered a relatively small shrine in terms of the buildings you would have encountered, it benefited from being located on the side of a mountain, so a lack of space was never really an issue.

Unfortunately, as the shrine has been abandoned and in ruins for quite some time, many of its original pieces have been lost to time, which makes it difficult for most visitors to imagine what it would have originally appeared.

In this section, I’ll focus on the architectural design of the shrine and each of the important pieces that would have made it complete, which I hope helps anyone interested in visiting better understand what they’re experiencing when they visit the shrine today.

Original layout of the shrine from blueprints provided by the New Taipei City Bureau of Cultural Affairs.

For clarity sake, I’m breaking up each of these important pieces into their own section so that I can better introduce their purpose and aspects of their design. Some of this information might be considered too detailed for the average reader, so I’ll attempt to make it as painless as possible. 

Link: Architecture and Sacred Spaces in Shinto (Berkeley ORIAS)

The Visiting Path (參道 / さんどう)

The Visiting Path, otherwise known as the “sando” (さんどう), is one of the most important parts of the design of any Shinto Shrine. As mentioned above, the space reserved for a shrine tends to vary, but given that this shrine is located on a mountain, it is afforded a much longer Visiting Path than most of the other shrines that were constructed in Taiwan.

While these paths serve a functional purpose, they are also quite symbolic in that the “road” is the path that one takes on the road to spiritual purification. Shintoism itself is literally translated as the “Pathway to the Gods” (神道), so having a physical path that leads the worshiper from the realm of the profane to that of the sacred is quite important.

Traditionally, the Visiting Path to a Shinto Shrine is lined symmetrically on both sides with Stone Lanterns (石燈籠), known as ‘toro’ (しゃむしょ), and although some of the lanterns at the shrine have been destroyed, there are still several sets that remain today.

One of the things you’ll want to note about each of the lanterns is that the date that they were donated to the shrine is etched into the stone on the rear of the lantern’s base. Most of the lanterns at the shrine were vandalized at some point over the past half century, but we’re fortunate in that one of the sets is still legible, so we’re able to gather quite a bit of information about its origin. If you’re wondering why the dates would have been scratched out, the reason for this is that for the Japanese, instead of using the western calendar of years, their years are set according to the reigns of the emperors. All of the lanterns at the shrine would have predated the Republic of China’s arrival in Taiwan, so the dates were a reminder of Taiwan’s history that the Chinese Nationalists would have preferred to get rid of.

This is not the work of an artist.

In the case of this shrine, it was constructed in 1936, which was the eleventh year of Emperor Showa’s reign (昭和11年). As it is a habit of mine when identifying these things, I made sure to take a close look at all of the lanterns, and they’ve all been vandalized, but some less so than others.

The Shrine Gates (鳥居 / とりい) 

The Shrine Gates, otherwise known as a “torii," are not a completely foreign object here in Taiwan, as you’ll find that most large temples feature their own variation. Even though most of us in the west traditionally associate these gates as iconic images of Japan, the meaning of the gates here in Taiwan, and across Asia remains the same as once you pass through, you are thought to be crossing from the profane world - which is considered to be unclean, to a sacred place. In Japan, the presence of one (or more) of these gates is one of the simplest ways of identifying that there is a shrine nearby, and also one of the best ways to know that you’re approaching a Shinto Shrine rather than a Buddhist temple.

Note: In proper nomenclature, Shinto places of worship are referred to as ‘shrines’ (社) while Buddhist places of worship are better referred to as temples.

The Golden Shrine was originally home to three of these sacred gates, which stretched from the entrance to the Visiting Path to the inner space of the shrine. Unfortunately, today only two of them remain today.

Traditionally, in Japan, shrine gates are numbered, so this shrine would have had a first gate (一の鳥居) to the third gate (三の鳥居). Although information is somewhat limited with regard to the original design of the shrine, it’s likely that the two gates that remain today are the second and third gates.

The two that do that remain at the shrine today fortunately are the originals (although they’ve recently been restored), and were constructed out of concrete, which is probably why they’ve been able to last for so long.

Like the stone lanterns mentioned above, both of the gates would have featured dates and the names of the people who donated money for their construction, but they’ve all been scratched off, or filled in with cement.

If you visit, you’ll notice that the third gate features as ‘sacred rope’ which is known as a shimenawa (標縄 / しめなわ) hanging from the top. The rope was added back to the gate as part of the restoration effort.

The Purification Fountain (手水舍 / ちょうずや)

An important aspect of Shintoism is something known as “hare and ke” (ハレとケ), otherwise known as the "sacred-profane dichotomy." It is thought that once you pass through the shrine gate, which is considered the barrier between the ‘profane’ and the ‘sacred’, it is necessary to do so in the cleanest possible manner by symbolically purifying yourself at the chozuya (ちょうずしゃ), or temizuya (てみずしゃ) provided. A necessity at any Shinto Shrine, the purification fountain is an important tool for symbolically readying yourself for entrance into the sacred realm.

The architectural design of these fountains varies from very simply designed spaces to something that could be regarded as very elaborately designed. Unfortunately, all that remains of the original fountain was part of the base where there would have been water to perform the purification ritual.

As part of the recent restoration of the shrine, a replication of the original fountain’s covered space was added. Although I haven’t seen photos of the original fountain, what they added in the space is unlikely to resemble the original in both its design and the material used to construct it.

Where the replication does help out is that it provides tourists with a spot to protect themselves from the elements on rainy days (of which there are many in that particular area), as well as offering a spot to educate visitors about the history of the shrine with helpful information displays.

Banner Poles (五座旗幟台)

In recent years, some of the most iconic photos of Japan’s Shinto Shrines have been from places like Tokyo’s Nezu Shrine (根津神社 / ねづじんじゃ), where you’ll find hundreds of red Shrine Gates leading up to the shrine. Similarly, quite a few of Japan’s shrines make use of beautiful banners, known as ‘nobori’ (幟 / のぼり).

The long and narrow flags are brilliant in that they are attached to a pole that features a cross-rod at the top to hold the fabric, preventing the flags from furling around the rod. With somewhat of a long and complicated history in Japan, these flags (or banners) typically line the Visiting Path of a Shrine or a Buddhist Temple in great numbers, which can be quite beautiful.

Note: These days, if you visit Japan, you’re likely to also find them used outside of restaurants, for advertisements and for political advertisements, among other uses.

Of all of the historic photos I’ve seen of Taiwan’s historic Shinto Shrines, it seems like few of them used these banners in the way that they were at the Ogon Shrine. As a mountain shrine, the wind on the hill would have been perfect for these flags, adding to the aesthetics.

One of the more predominant features of any of the historic photos you’ll see of the shrine are the giant banners on bamboo poles, and even though the flags are long gone, five of their bases remain along the Visiting Path, and are most apparent next to where the second Shrine Gate once existed.

The Hall of Worship (拜殿 / はいでん)

Known in Japan as the “haiden” (拜殿 /はいでん), for the vast majority of worshipers, it is the spiritual heart of the shrine, and given its importance, it was one of the most architecturally district buildings at the shrine.

Essentially the largest building within the ‘sacred’ space of the shrine, the Hall of Worship was an open space (no walls), with a covered roof propped up by the ten cylindrical columns you see standing there today.

Obviously, given that the shrine is in ruins, and the original building is long gone, it’s difficult for visitors imagine what the original building looked like, but the original columns remain perfectly in place.

As I mentioned earlier, the Second Generation Shrine was constructed with the ancient ‘shinmei-zukuri’  (神明造 / しんめいづくり) architectural design. What this means is that the large columns held up a kirizuma-style (切妻造 / きりづまづくり) gabled roof. Differing from what you’d typically see at larger Shinto Shrines, which feature hip-and-gable roofs, the original roof of the building would have consisted of two inclined surfaces on the front and back, which formed a ridge at the top.

Roofs of this design are essentially meant to resemble and open book, or the Chinese character ‘入’, which you should be able to understand from the diagram provided below.

General layout of shinmei-style architectural design

Considered to be one of the most ‘simplistic’ architectural styles that you’ll come across within the various styles of traditional Japanese architectural design, one of the interesting things about these shrines constructed is that they are generally rebuilt every two or three decades, adhering to the tradition of ‘shikinen sengu’ (神宮式年遷宮/じんぐうしきねんせんぐう), a ritual that provides for the constant renewal of its buildings.

More importantly, as the article linked below explains, the ritual plays a “very important role by enabling the transfer of (our) technical skill and spirit to the next generation. This transfer maintains both our architectural heritage and over 1,000 years of artistic tradition involving the making of the divine treasures.”

Link: [Soul of Japan] Shikinen Sengu, the Ritual of Rebuilding and Renewal (Japan Forward)

The rebuilding and renewal ritual is one that tends to vary between shrines, with some undergoing the process every eighteen to twenty-five years. In this case, the shrine was reconstructed in 1936, which means that it would possibly have been rebuilt again in 1961, 1986, and 2011.

With this in mind, even if the shrine wasn’t vandalized after the end of the Japanese-era, it very likely wouldn’t appear the same today as it would have back when the photos were taken in the late 1930s.

Speaking of those photos, one thing to note is that the roof featured katsuogi (鰹木/かつおぎ) and chigi (千木) ornaments on the top ridge. The katsuogi are long timber-like pieces of wood that rest on the flat base of the roof. While they might seem like a simple decorative element, they’re actually a pretty good indication of the kami that reside within, with an even number indicating a female divinity, while an odd number signifies a male. Taking a close look at the blurry old photos, there were five of them, signifying that the kami enshrined within were all male.

We already knew that, though.

With regard to the ‘chigi’, they can be cut either horizontally or vertically, known as uchi-sogi (内削ぎ) and soto-sogi (外削ぎ) respectively. How they’re cut likewise indicates the kami within, unfortunately, the photos of the Hall of Worship are far too blurry to see their design, but it’s safe to assume given what we know about the shrine that they were cut vertically.  

If you’d like see see both of these elements in action in another one of Taiwan’s historic shrines, I recommend taking a look at my article about Taitung’s Luye Shinto Shrine (鹿野神社).

Links: Shinmei-zukuri | Katsuogi | Chigi (Wiki)

Main Hall (本殿 / ほんでん)

Last, but not least, it’s time to introduce the Main Hall, otherwise known as the “honden” (本殿/ほんでん), the most sacred part of any Shinto Shrine, and the home of the gods. 

Traditionally, the Main Hall is the area of a shrine that is off-limits to the general public, and would have only been accessible to the staff who resided at, or took care of the shrine. Obviously that’s not the case today as the building is gone and all that remains is its concrete base.

Located directly behind the Hall of Worship, the Main Hall of the shrine kept with the shinmei-zukuri style of architectural design. In this case however, the much smaller building was placed on an elevated cement base.

Interestingly, when taking a look at the historic photos of the shrine, the height of the Main Hall was altered between the first and second generation designs. So, in some of the photos that you’ll see of the shrine, the rear hall is much smaller than the Hall of Worship in front of it, but in others, it is about the same height.

I won’t spend too much time on the architectural design of the Main Hall as I’d just be repeating what I mentioned earlier - All that remains of the hall today is its original cement base, which is quite beautifully designed in its own right. The base is double-layered with a narrow set of stairs in the middle with pedestals for either stone lanterns or possibly ‘Lion-Dogs’, known in Japan as the komainu (狛犬/こまいぬ) on either side of the stairs.

Today, as you reach the top of the base where the wooden structure would have existed, you’ll find a large stone with the Kanji for ‘donated’ or ‘donation’ (奉納 / ほうのう). With these ‘donations’, they’re usually parts of the shrine, like the gates or the lanterns which were paid for through the donations of private individuals.

I can’t place where this stone in particular came from, but it’s possible that it was once part of the pedestal for one of the Lion-Dogs or the sacred cow that was originally located next to the sacred gate.

Interestingly, given that this was once a place of worship, locals have taken to placing monetary offerings (coins) on the stone as a show of respect to the former shrine, which is quite endearing, but given the amount of vandalism that took place here, it’s also sad that so much of the original shrine has been lost.

Getting There

 

Address: #8 Jinguang Road, Jinguashi, Ruifang District (新北市瑞芳區金瓜石金光路8號)

GPS: 121.85862°E 25.105006°N

There are several convenient methods that will help you get to the Golden Shrine, but for most tourists, the best (and easiest method of explaining to get there is to use the Gold Museum as a starting point.

For the more adventurous, you could always hike Stegosaurus Ridge, Teapot Mountain, or any of the other hiking trails on the mountain where the shrine is located, but I’m just going to spend time introducing the direct route that the vast majority of tourists will take to get there.

How you get to the Gold Museum is up to you, but if you’re asking me for travel advice, I think its best that you hop on one of the buses out of Taipei, and take it directly to the Gold Museum. Don’t get off at Jiufen, go directly to the Gold Museum area and then on your way back by all means, stop at Jiufen. If, on the other hand you have your own means of transportation, you’ll have to keep mind that parking in the area can be a bit expensive.

Car / Scooter

If you have your own means of transportation, I recommend inputting the address or coordinates provided above into your vehicles GPS or Google Maps to map out your route to the museum. Depending on whether you’re coming from Taipei, Keelung, or the east coast, the route is going to be slightly different, so it’s much easier to have it mapped out on your preferred positioning system.

It’s important to keep in mind that the car park for the museum isn’t located at the front entrance along the narrow mountain road, so you’ll want to pay attention to the signs along the road that will point you in the direction of the car park.

Below I’ll provide the official directions to the Gold Museum from its official website (slightly edited for grammar and clarity):

  1. Take the Zhongshan Highway in the direction of Keelung → Exit at Dahua System Interchange→ Exit at Ruifang → Provincial Highway 2 → Turn right on Mingdeng Rd. → Pass though Jiufen and head down the mountain towards Jinguashi → Arrive at the Gold Museum

  2. Take the Zhongshan Highway in the direction of Keelung →  Exit at Dahua System Interchange → Go in the direction of Ruibin → Provincial Highway 2 → Turn right onto North County Road 34→ Arrive at the Gold Museum

  3. From the East Coast take Provincial Highway 2 to Shuinandong car park → Turn left onto North County Road 34 → Arrive at the Gold Museum.

Teapot Mountain (茶壺山) in the distance.

Train

If you elect to take the train as part of your adventure, you’re going to have to keep in mind that you’ll eventually have to switch to a bus at either Keelung Train Station (基隆車站) or Ruifang Train Station (瑞芳車站) as there aren’t any trains that provide direct access to the area.

The most convenient of the two stations with regard to getting to the Gold Museum area is Ruifang Station, but it’s important to note that not all of the trains bound north out of Taipei will get you to that station. If you find yourself on the wrong train, you may have to get off and transfer to another one near Xizhi (汐止車站) or Badu (八堵車站).

That being said, if you’re traveling from Taipei, it’s much faster and more convenient to hop on one of the buses on the list below as they’re direct from the capital. Taking a bus from the city will also ensure that you get a seat as the buses that roll through Ruifang are often packed to the point that they just pass by you when you’re at the bus stop waiting.    

Bus

Conveniently located at the entrance to the Gold Museum, you’ll find the ‘Jinguashi Gold Ecological Park’ (金瓜石 黃金博物館) bus stop. The buses that travel along this route typically pass through Ruifang (瑞芳), Jiufen (九分) and pass by the Golden Waterfall (黃金瀑布) on their way to Shuinandong (水湳洞) along the coast.

Serviced by the following routes, I’ll also provide links to the real time bus information below in addition to where you’re able to hop on:

  • Taipei Bus #788 (台北客運788): City God Temple - Shuinandong (城隍廟-水湳洞)

  • Taipei Bus #825 (台北客運825): Ruifang Station - Gold Museum (瑞芳車站-黃金博物館)

  • Taiwan Tour Bus #856 (台灣好行856): Ruifang - Sandiaojiao (瑞芳-三貂角燈塔)

  • Taipei Bus #965 (台北客運965): Fuzhong - Gushan Elementary (府中捷運站 - 瓜山國小)

  • Bus #1062 (基隆客運1062): Taipei - Jinguashi (台北 - 金瓜石)

  • Bus #F802 (台北客運): Ruifang Train Station - Jinguashi (瑞芳車站 - 金瓜石)

Click on any of the bus routes above for the route map and real-time information for each of the buses. If you haven’t already, I recommend using the Taipei eBus website or downloading the “台北等公車” app to your phone, which makes it easier to map out your trip and find the nearest bus stops to wherever you are located.

Link: Bus Tracker (臺北等公車) - Apple | Android

1. From Taipei - Jinguashi (台北 - 金瓜石博物館)

The easiest route directly from Taipei to the Gold Museum is Bus #1062, which conveniently sets off from Zhongxiao Fuxing MRT Station (忠孝復興捷運站) and also passes by Songshan Train Station (松山車站) and Ruifang Train Station (瑞芳車站). You also have the option of taking Bus #965, where you can hop on at Wanhua Train Station (萬華車站), Ximen MRT Station (西門捷運站) or Beimen MRT Station (北門捷運站).

2. From Keelung - Jinguashi (基隆 - 金瓜石博物館)

From Keelung Train Station (基隆車站) you can tae Bus #788 directly to the Gold Museum.

3. From Banqiao - Jinguashi (板橋 - 金瓜石博物館)

From Banqiao Bus Station (板橋公車站), located next to the train station, you can hop on Bus #965 and take the bus directly to the Gold Museum

4. From Ruifang - Jinguashi (瑞芳 - 金瓜石博物館)

From Ruifang Train Station, you have the option to take a number of buses that are headed up the mountain to Jiufen and the Gold Museum area.

The thing you’ll want to remember is that the bus stop here is more often than not packed with people, so you may find yourself waiting a bit to get on a bus. On the other hand, there are quite a few buses that pass through the area on the way up the mountain, so it may not be too long of a wait.


After being closed for half a decade, the Golden Shrine is finally reopen to the public. As one of the highlights of any visit to Jinguashi or the Gold Museum, I highly recommend the short hike up the mountain to the shrine if you find yourself in the area. Obviously, as a ruined Shinto Shrine, there isn’t much to see, and it is a skeleton of its former self, but its continued existence remains quite significant with regard to the modern history of this beautiful island nation. Rated as one of the most iconic tourist destinations in northern Taiwan, the shrine provides tourists with a pretty great photo opportunity, so even if you’re not as interested in all of this stuff as I am, why not check it out?

References

  1. Ōgon Shrine | 金瓜石神社 (中文) | 黃金神社 (日文) (Wiki)

  2. Ōgon Shrine (Spectral Codex)

  3. List of Shinto Shrines in Taiwan | 台灣神社列表 (Wiki) 

  4. 金瓜石神社 ( 國家文化資產網)

  5. [新北市瑞芳].金瓜石.黃金博物園區 (Tony的自然人文旅記)

  6. 新北市立黃金博物館New Taipei City Gold Museum (Wiki)

  7. 礦山上的台灣最初社-金瓜石神社 (晰誌 | See Zine)

  8. 金瓜石神社 山神祭 (新北市政府)

  9. 金瓜石 | Jinguashi (Wiki)

  10. The Gold Museum in Jinguashi (TaiwanEverything)

  11. 118 Shinto Gods and Goddesses to Know About (Owlcation)

  12. Architecture and Sacred Spaces in Shinto (Berkeley ORIAS)

  13. Encyclopedia of Shinto (Kokugakuin University)

  14. Shinto Architecture (Wikiwand)

  15. Taipower unveils renovated Jinguashi Shinto shrine in New Taipei (FTV News)