Japanese Colonial Era

Taiwan New Cultural Movement Memorial Hall (臺灣新文化運動紀念館)

Walking through the recently restored Datong Police Precinct, it’s difficult not to respect the architectural beauty of the building. Like many of the places that I write about these days, it was constructed during the island’s five-decade long Japanese Colonial Era, and even though it was simply one of several police stations constructed in the capital, compared with contemporary stations, it seems like they put a little extra love into its design that is unparalleled these days.

However, while I was walking through the building and taking photos of its stunning architectural beauty, I came across an elderly volunteer, who found it interesting that a foreigner was visiting the building. After the typical awkward introductions in English, there was a sigh of relief when I let him know that I speak Mandarin. These encounters with (talkative) elderly volunteers have become common for me in recent years, and although it’s nice to chat with them (and learning from them) from time to time, I’m usually on a tight schedule trying to take photos, so I try to keep conversations short. Nevertheless, in this case, the volunteer had some things that he wanted to get off his chest, and likewise had some things to show me that I wouldn’t have otherwise noticed.

I was simply there just to take photos of the beautiful Japanese-era architecture, but what I got was a quick crash course on why this historic police precinct was ‘re-born’ as the “New Cultural Movement Memorial Hall,” which is ultimately a sad story about the struggles of the past eight decades of Taiwan’s history.

The elderly volunteer explained that when the Japanese constructed the building in the late stages of their control of Taiwan, the situation around the capital was quite stable. The building came complete with jail cells, but the crime rate was pretty low, so it was mostly used as a place for drunken and disorderly members of society after a night out on the town. Obviously, I’m sure that’s a rose-colored glasses version of history, but the point he was making was to differentiate the Japanese-era experience with what came afterwards.

Pointing at one of the walls in the the jail cell, the elderly volunteer asked me to take a look at words that were etched into the concrete that read: “Down with the Republic of China” (打到中華民國), something that was intentionally left there when the building was restored. The volunteer then ushered me to the other side of the room where he showed me what looked like a water tank, but was actually a torture device known as a water dungeon. Noting that the device was used rather extensively to torture political prisoners during the White Terror (白色恐怖) era of repression from the late 1940s to the 1980s.

Quickly realizing that my photo excursion to this historic building was turning into a learning experience, it became obvious that the elderly volunteer had a lot to say about the subject, but it was also quite clear that as a resident of the area, he also lived through much of the political repression that the people of Taiwan suffered after the arrival of the Chinese Nationalists.

This building wasn’t simply just another one of the pretty Japanese-era buildings that I frequent, it was one with a very dark history. One of the ‘historical sites of injustice’ (不義遺址), a collection of sites brought back to life to help people better understand the historic injustices suffered by generations of Taiwanese, destinations like this police station highlight the struggles of those who helped to bring about the end of Martial Law, and the nation’s transition into one of the region’s most vibrant democracies.

Link: Why People Are Flocking to a Symbol of Taiwan’s Authoritarian Past (Amy Chang Chien, John Liu and Chris Horton / NY Times)

In this article, I will introduce the history and architectural design of the historic police station, but I’ll also spend time introducing the purpose of the memorial hall that occupies the space today. Suffice to say, memorial halls like this are important for realizing transitional justice, and recognizing the crimes of the past while also helping educate younger people about the history of their nation so that they can forge ahead and continue on the road to helping Taiwan become a freer and fairer country.

North Taipei Police Station (臺北北警察署)

When the Japanese arrived in Taiwan in 1895 (明治28年), the capital was nothing compared to what we’re used to today. Taipei, or what became known as “Taihoku” (台北市 / たいほくし) was a walled area that was about five-kilometers in length accessible by the East Gate (景福門), North Gate (承恩門), West Gate (寶成門) and the South Gate (麗正門). For the Japanese, the confined area within the city was far too small given their plans for the future, so they quickly got to work on pulling down the walls and developing the city.

Where one might become slightly confused is that police service in the city was initially divided between the ‘northern’ and ‘southern’ sections of the city, which at the time wasn’t actually that large of an area. The ‘Southern Police Precinct’ (臺北南警察署) was constructed close to where the ‘North Gate’ is located, and the original Northern Police Precinct (臺北北警察署) was located in Dadaocheng, the most commercially prosperous area of the capital. Geographically, this makes sense, but if you’re not really familiar with the city’s historic set-up, you might find the naming somewhat baffling in that the ‘Southern Police Station’ was located next to the ‘Northern Gate.’ The simple answer here is that prior to the arrival of the Japanese, the northern section of the city only extended to the North Gate area, growing exponentially since then.

As the capital grew in both area and population, both the north and south stations became far too small for the purpose they served, so starting in 1929 (昭和4年), the second generation South Taipei Police Station was constructed, and then four years later in 1933 (昭和8年), the Taipei North Police Station was completed.

Interestingly, if you take a look at historic photos of both of the buildings (below), you’ll probably notice that they look quite similar in design. This is because they were actually quite generic as the architectural style used to construct these buildings had become common for larger police stations in Japan at the time, which is something I’ll explain in further detail below.

Note: The South Taipei Police Precinct has already been torn down.

Officially opened on April 26th, 1933, the North Taipei Police Station (臺北北警察署 / たいぺいきたけいさつしょ) was constructed a short distance from the original. Replacing a much smaller Qing-era building, which had a bit of a bad reputation (due to protests and arrests of intellectuals in the 1920s), the newer, much larger building was constructed using modern design techniques. Sadly though, it wouldn’t be long until it’s reputation would become exponentially worse than its predecessor.

For the remainder of the Japanese-era, the station remained in operation as normal, but when the Second World War came to an end and the Japanese were forced to surrender control of Taiwan, a number of changes took place, in addition to some pretty terrible events that cemented the station’s place in history. Playing a role in what has become known as the 228-Incident (二二八事件), an island-wide event that started in Daodaocheng, a short distance from the station. It also became home to the Criminal Investigation Corps (臺灣省警務處刑警總隊拘留所), which was later discovered to be part of the state intelligence apparatus that worked hand-in-hand with the infamous Taiwan Garrison Command (警備總部).

Investigations into the history of the White Terror Period (白色恐怖) from 1947 to 1987 are ongoing, so the actual number of political prisoners who passed through the station remains, but what we do know is that the building and the jail within were used extensively to ‘temporarily’ house political prisoners, who were interrogated and tortured in the building, prior to being sent to more ‘private' locations where they were likely to never be seen again.

Considered by the National Human Rights Museum as one of the historical sites of injustice’ (不義遺址) mentioned earlier, the number of political prisoners who passed through the station is unlikely to be an insignificant number, nevertheless, as the political situation in the country started to stabilize by the 1990s, the building became just a regular police station, until it was finally put out service in 2012.

Soon after the ‘Datong Police Station’ (大同分局) moved to a much larger building next door, the original was designated by Taipei City as a Protected Historic Property and plans for restoration were drawn up.

Below, I’m going to provide a brief timeline of the station’s history before I move onto its architectural design:  

North Taipei Police Precinct Timeline

  • 1920-1932 (大正9年 - 昭和7年) - The first generation Taipei North Police Station was located within a much smaller building for a twelve year period where the Carrefour hyper-mart exists today. This was the building where Chiang Wei-shui and others were imprisoned.

  • 1932 (昭和7年) - Construction on the new police station starts on August 8th.

  • 1933 (昭和8年) - Construction on the new station is completed on April 15th, and the building is officially opened on April 26th.

  • 1945 (昭和20年) - Soon after the Chinese Nationalists take control of Taiwan, the station is renamed “Taipei #1 Precinct” (第一分局).

  • 1949 (民國38年) - The police station becomes home to the Criminal Investigation Corps, which is officially a ‘police’ organization but is under the umbrella of the state intelligence apparatus, and the building is used for the imprisonment and torture of political prisoners.

  • 1985 (民國74年) - The station is renamed “Ningxia Police Station” (寧夏分局)

  • 1990 (民國79年) - The station is renamed “Datong Police Station” (大同分局)

  • 1998 (民國87年) - The building is officially recognized as a Taipei City Historic Property (市定古蹟)

  • 2006 (民國95年) - Plans are made by the city government to restore the building and convert it into the New Cultural Movement Memorial Hall, once construction on the new Datong Police Branch is completed.

  • 2012 (民國101年) - The Datong Police Station officially moves to its new location (next to the original building) and once the building is vacated, preparations are made for its restoration.

  • 2018 (民國107年) - The Taiwan New Cultural Movement Memorial Hall officially opens on October 14th.

Architectural Design

At this point, you’re probably thinking, is it really necessary to describe the architectural design of a police station? It is after-all just an old building where some terrible things happened. To answer your question yes, I think it’s important to (at least) briefly talk about the design of the building, because there are some tidbits of information that make it quite interesting.

I promise though, I won’t spend as much time as I usually do on this section.

To start, I suppose the first interesting thing about the design of the building is that it part of a very formulaic as far as police stations like this go - If we take a look at the historic police stations constructed during the early years of the Showa-era in both Taiwan and Japan, there are some architectural characteristics that are shared by all of them. So, let’s first take a look at some of historic stations (of a similar size) here in Taiwan so you’ll better understand what I’m talking about.

What you’ll notice in each of the examples above is that they were all similarly constructed on the corner of a road in either a “L” or “V” shape, were generously sized two-leveled structures, and more specifically ranged from 524.6 - 565.2 square meters in total. Essentially, despite a few minor decorative differences, they all more or less followed the same architectural style and size.

After almost forty years of development, by the time the Showa-era came along, the Japanese had become rather adept and had all of the infrastructure in place to construct modern buildings like this in Taiwan. The combination of improved construction techniques, a better understanding of Taiwan’s natural environment, and the availability of construction materials made it much easier for the authorities to construct larger buildings that would be able to withstand the test of time, for a fraction of the price, which made projects like this much more feasible.

If you’ve been reading my articles for any period of time, you’ll probably notice that I tend to focus more on the traditional-looking Japanese-style buildings, most of which were constructed with timber. What’s important to keep in mind with regard to these larger civic buildings, however is that in the aftermath of the devastating Great Kanto Earthquake (関東大地震) in 1923 (大正12), attitudes regarding construction and building safety became an important issue within Japanese society. It was around this time that the use of reinforced concrete structures started appearing more regularly as a more modern approach to construction, safety and the longevity of buildings became paramount. Earthquake-proofing, however became essential within the Governor General’s official building-standard codes after the Shinchiku-Taichu Earthquake (新竹‧台中地震 / しんちく‧たいちゅうじしん) of 1935 (昭和10年) caused massive damage around the island.

Constructed using reinforced concrete with brick load-bearing wall elements and a steel frame, the ‘modern approach’ to architectural design that was taking place here differed from the traditional approach. In the latter, designers placed more importance on the load-bearing ability of the walls to withstand the weight of the roof and the floors above. In this case, the steel frame, brick walls and a network of columns and beams on the ground level and the second floor were better suited to maintain the stability of the building, especially in the case of an earthquake.

One of the most interesting tidbits of information regarding the reinforced concrete that was used to construct this specific building (and several others around the capital) is that the same stone that was made up the original walls that surrounded Qing-era Taipei City. So even though the stone was re-made into the exterior of the building that we see today, the concrete predates the building by more than half a century.

What’s most noticeable with regard to these modern civic buildings is that they were constructed with fewer decorative elements than traditional style buildings. That doesn’t mean they didn’t add any special touches to the building, instead, I’d argue that the what they did add, stands out as somewhat of a lost art-form within modern construction as the Art-Deco architectural style turned what was a simple police station into an elegant building.

Starting from the shape of the building, it may not seem obvious, but the “L-shape” on the corner makes it an opposing structure as it stretches along two different roads. The modern building techniques and steel-frame permitted exterior walls that feature a number of arched and semi-circular windows, which allowed for a considerable amount of natural light to enter the building. The most impressive aspect of the exterior is where the building curves in a ‘half-moon’ shape on the corner, which is where you’ll find the covered portico that feature columns and a set of stairs that open up to the front door.

Once inside, you get to see more of the Art-Deco decorative elements at work with the spacious front hall, high ceilings, large arched corridors and the absolutely beautiful staircase located in the center of the building. Suffice to say, over the past nine decades, a considerable amount of alterations have taken place within the interior of the building, so the number of rooms within the space is somewhat unclear, but what remains true is that after the war, the station was home to more than two-hundred officers, making it a pretty cramped space. This ultimately necessitated a third floor expansion in the 1960s, which has since been removed to restore the building to its original likeness.

One of the main attractions for most visitors today is the jail area (拘留所) of the building, which is connected to the rear of the building. The fan-shaped jail allowed for a single officer to watch over seven triangular jail cells from a station in the middle. For most visitors, it’s likely their first time to encounter such a space, but it’s important to remember the nefarious events that took place in Taiwan over the past century, making this a solemn place for the people who suffered political persecution within the building and elsewhere. Much of the jail has been restored to its original condition and visitors are free to enter one or two of the cells to experience the cramped space.

Directly to the rear of where the presiding officer would have watched the prisoners is a room that is home to the infamous Water Dungeon (水牢), a torture device that was constructed during the Japanese-era, but widely used later on as a means of extracting confessions out of political prisoners. A live-feed has been installed to allow visitors to view what it looks like within the dungeon, but you can’t actually go down, nor would you probably want to.

On that note, I’m going to move on to why this historic building has become home to a memorial hall for the political prisoners who had the misfortune of being brought to the building both during the Japanese era and the current era.

Taiwan New Cultural Movement Memorial Hall

(臺灣新文化運動紀念館)

Now that I’ve introduced the history and architectural design of the building itself, I think it’s important to first expand on the history of the “New Cultural Movement” (新文化運動) before I introduce the memorial hall that occupies the building today, so that readers have a better understanding as to why it’s a significant memorial for the people of Taiwan, and especially with regard to the neighborhood where it’s located.

Having written about the history of the Dadaocheng area several times already, I’m going to start simply by explaining briefly some of the important events that led up to the formation of the New Culture Movement: Originally the Bangka (艋舺) area, known today as “Wanhua District” (萬華區) was the first part of the capital that was opened up for international exchange and trading with a port that allowed boats to travel up the Keelung river and out to sea. The economic prosperity of the area however brought about issues between groups of immigrants that hailed from different regions of China’s Fujian Province (福建省).

Most importantly with regard to the Dadaocheng area, the immigrants who came to Taiwan from Tong-An County (同安縣), which is today a northern district of Xiamen city (廈門市) were the ones who had the most trouble as the more dominant groups weren’t willing to share their economic prosperity with them.

In 1853, hostilities broke out (頂下郊拚) between the four major groups of immigrants who occupied the port area, and ultimately finding themselves on the losing side of the conflict, the immigrants hailing from Tong-An county packed up and moved out of Bangka, resettling in nearby Dadaocheng.

Settlement in the Dadaocheng area (pronounced: Tōa-tiū-tiâ in Taiwanese Hokkien) starting a few years prior by another group of immigrants from Tong-An, who had migrated from Taiwan's northern port of Keelung to do business in the city, so those who found themselves fleeing Bangka were welcomed. It was a move that ultimately proved to be extremely beneficial for those displaced as they used their resources and knowledge to further develop Dadaocheng, which also had its own wharf.

Looking back, losing the feud was probably the best thing that could have happened given that the port in Bangka shortly after started having silting issues, making the it unusable for the boats that would have docked there, allowing Dadaocheng to transform itself into a commercially successful port of trade. By the time the Japanese took control of Taiwan in 1895, the Dadaocheng area was the most commercially successful area of the island with international exchange and trade fueling economic prosperity, and more importantly for today’s topic, attracting literati and scholars from all over Taiwan.

By the 1920s, intellectuals in Taiwan, influenced by social movements taking place elsewhere around the world, started forming groups advocating for an end to colonial rule and for national self-determination. Scholars such as Chiang Wei-shui (蔣渭水) and Lin Hsien-tang (林獻堂) founded groups like the Taiwan Cultural Association (台灣文化協會), and the Taiwanese People’s Party (臺灣民眾黨), one of which is the inspiration for the memorial hall today.

Links: Chiang Wei-shui | Lin Hsien-tang (Wiki)

The New Culture Movement advocated for ‘a self-help enlightenment movement for the social liberation and cultural advancement of the Taiwanese people’ inspired by President Woodrow Wilson’s promotion of the ideology of national self-determination. Even though many of the intellectuals in the group were among the few lucky enough to be highly educated in Japanese universities, they still advocated that the ‘cure’ for Taiwan’s sociocultural and national illnesses were simple things such as access to formal education, professional training, kindergartens, libraries and newspaper reading clubs.

To assist in solving these problems, the association published the Taiwan People’s Daily (台灣民報), a newspaper that served as an alternative to the colonial government’s official newspaper, and they organized ‘cultural schools’ for the less fortunate in society, held cultural lecture groups and seminars, established ‘newspaper reading clubs’ (a topic that is wonderfully put on display at the museum today), organized and performed cultural plays and showings of foreign films, and opened book stores around the island.

All in the hope of cultivating the seeds of literacy and social enlightenment among the people of Taiwan.

To say the least, in many ways, the New Cultural Movement’s goals started creating change throughout Taiwan, and many of their ideologies continue to be promoted today on the road to strengthening the nation’s democracy and civil society.

Some of the New Culture movement educational pieces on display.

However, even though it all might sound utopian, the reality is that the Japanese empire at the time was quickly turning into a fascist state, and these social movements seeking to promote Taiwanese self-determination weren’t exactly looked upon favorably by nationalists. Thus, the government cracked down on these groups and members were arrested and imprisoned. Commemorating those efforts, the New Culture Movement Memorial Hall (臺灣新文化運動紀念館) was established within the very same police station where Chiang Wei-shui, and many of his contemporaries were held after their arrests.

Established on October 14th, 2018 (民國107年), the historic police station has been completely restored and features educational exhibits about the New Culture Movement on the first floor and a number of revolving exhibitions on the second floor that focus on the various aspects of the movement and it’s effect on Taiwanese society from the 1920s until now.

In addition to the permanent and revolving exhibitions within the memorial hall, the staff is tasked with organizing seminars, forums, book exhibitions, guided street tours, bazaars and concerts throughout the year, making a visit to the hall one that tourists and every day citizens alike can enjoy on more than one occasion.

And hey, if you’re in the area and are simply looking for a relaxing place to sit and enjoy a coffee, you can visit the 8jincafé (八斤所) on the first floor, to the left of the main entrance, where you’ll get to enjoy the historic ambiance of the old building while enjoying some freshly brewed single-origin coffee.

Link: 8jincafé (八斤所)

As one of the (current) thirty-one sites under the stewardship of the National Human Rights Museum’s (國家人權博物館) ‘Historical Sites of Injustice’ (不義遺址) project, the memorial hall located within the historic police station today focuses on the Cultural Movements of the Japanese-era, but it goes without saying that the police station was also involved in what the Human Rights Museum defines as a “detention, interrogation, torture, coercion, prosecution, trials, and internment of political dissidents during the White Terror period’ which “can be found all over Taiwan, including on the islands of Kinmen, Matsu and Penghu” and “were witnesses to the major historical traumas undergone by Taiwan in its development of human rights.

As the police station became home to the Criminal Investigation Corps (臺灣省警務處刑警總隊拘留所), which unofficially acted as part of the state intelligence apparatus with police serving a dual-role as members of the infamous Taiwan Provincial Security Command (省保安司令部) and the Taiwan Garrison Command (警備總部) who used the building as a temporary detention center for confining political prisoners during the White Terror period where they would be questioned and tortured prior to being sent elsewhere.

The topic of transitional justice is a heavy one, especially as the historic crimes of the White Terror Period (白色恐怖) continue to come to light, but I do recommend anyone reading this to take some time to check out the Sites of Injustice website linked below, which provides excellent resources in both Chinese and English regarding one of the longest periods of imposed Martial Law in the world’s history, where the people of Taiwan were subjected to political repression and unspeakable cruelty. The website provides information on what has been uncovered as well as the sites that we’re able to visit to learn more about the topic.

Link: Historical Sites of Injustice (不義遺址)

The Taiwan New Cultural Movement Memorial Hall is open from Tuesday to Sunday (Closed on Mondays) from 9:30 - 17:00 and visiting is free of charge.

Website: Taiwan New Cultural Movement Memorial Hall | Facebook (Both Chinese Only)


Getting There

 

Address: #87 Ningxia Road, Datong District, Taipei (大同區寧夏路87號)

GPS: 25.059430, 121.514900

Located in Taipei’s historic Datong District (大同區), the Taiwan New Cultural Movement Memorial Hall is conveniently positioned within walking distance from several of the city’s MRT stations, and is likewise serviced by numerous bus routes, making getting to the area relatively easy for most traveller.

Within walking distance from Ningxia Nightmarket (寧夏夜市) and the Dadaocheng (大稻埕) area, there are considerable amount of things to see and do while visiting the area, and the addition of this new memorial hall is an excellent stop for anyone hoping to learn more about Taiwan’s modern history.

Taipei MRT

One of the easiest ways to visit the Memorial Hall is to make your way to any of the three subway stations listed below and from there walking to the hall. From either of the three stations, it shouldn’t take any longer than ten minutes to reach the hall.

  1. Shuanglian MRT Station (雙連捷運站) - From Exit 1, turn left on Minsheng West Road (民生西路) and continue walking straight until you reach Ningxia Road (寧夏路) where you’ll turn right and continue walking straight until you reach the hall.

  2. Minquan West Road MRT Station (民權西路捷運站) - From Exit 3 walk south until you reach Jinxi Street (錦西街) where you turn right and walk straight until you reach the hall.

  3. Daqiaotou MRT Station (大橋頭捷運站) - From the station simply walk south down Chongqing North Road (重慶北路) until you reach the Carrefour. The memorial hall is located to the rear of the building.

Bus

Located between the Minsheng Chongqing Road Intersection (民生重慶路口站) and the Liangzhou Chongqing Road Intersection (涼州重慶路口站) bus stops, travelers have a number of options for bus routes to the area. Both of the bus stops are located along the bus Chongqing North Road (重慶北路), and once you get off, you’ll have to cross to the side of the street where you see the Chongqing Road Carrefour (家樂福重慶店). From there, the memorial hall is a short distance to the rear of the building, which means that taking the bus is one of your best options.

The following buses are serviced by both of the stops: #2, #63, #215, #223, #250, #288, #300, #302, #304, #306, #639, #757, #966,

Click on any of the links 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.

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

Youbike

There are also a number of Youbike Docking Stations surrounding the area where the Memorial Hall is located. The closest of which can be found within the Chiang Wei-Shui Memorial Park (蔣渭水紀念公園), next to the current police station. If you’re making your way around town on one of the publicly available Youbike’s, you’ll be able to dock your bike nearby, or find another one once you’ve finished checking out the memorial hall.

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

History in Taiwan can be a complicated subject at times, and even though this building’s history spans both the Japanese Colonial era and the subsequent Martial Law period, the architectural beauty of the historic building is foreshadowed by the terrible things that took place within. Now that the country is on the path to addressing transitional justice, the re-opening of this particular space as a memorial for those who suffered within is certainly a helpful way to educate people about Taiwan’s struggle to attain the democracy that it enjoys today.

References

  1. Taipei New Cultural Movement Memorial Hall (臺灣新文化運動紀念館)

  2. 走訪台灣新文化運動紀念館,回顧台灣文化協會的百年奔放與啟蒙 (The News Lens)

  3. 臺灣新文化運動紀念館》茶金拍攝景點,水牢及互動體驗讓歷史變有趣 (可大王愛旅行)

  4. 臺北市直轄市定古蹟原臺北北警察署修護調查與再利用規劃研究 (林正雄)

  5. 臺灣省警務處刑警總隊拘留所 (不義遺址資料庫)

  6. 臺灣新文化運動紀念館 關不住的文化覺醒 (台北旅遊網)

  7. 臺北北警察署 (Wiki)

  8. Taiwan New Cultural Movement Memorial Hall (Wiki)

  9. 原臺北北警察署 (國家文化資產網)

  10. 原臺北北警察署 (文化部)

  11. 台北-大同 臺北北警察署 (Just a Balcony)


TokyoBike Taipei Cafe

If it weren’t obvious enough already, a large portion of the research and writing I do about Taiwan revolves around the island’s five decade-long Japanese Colonial era. Over the past few years, I’ve worked to combine my photography with my writing and research skills to help tell the stories of some of the nation’s historic buildings, which is admittedly a great time to be into this kind of thing with the number of buildings that have been restored in recent years.

Writing about Shinto Shrines, Martial Arts Halls, Civic Buildings, Train Stations, and the dormitories provided to the civil servants of the era, I’ve covered a wide range of topics, but one that I’m especially proud of was a long research project that delved deeply into the Taiwanese government’s attempt to restore these buildings, and then seek private enterprises to assist in their operation. Coming from a university background in International Development, it’s important for me to see that the government isn’t just throwing bags of taxpayers dollars at these historic buildings with no clear, or sustainable vision for the future - Because, let’s face it, the reach of the government can only go so far - and attracting a steady stream of visitors to these historic buildings is one of the best ways to ensure that they continue to be saved, rather than bulldozed.

If you haven’t had the chance to read it, I highly recommend taking a look at the (sorry, very long) article I wrote about how the Taiwanese government is officially enlisting the participation of private enterprises to assist with the operation of some of these buildings, especially since it will offer a lot more context to what I’m going to be introducing below.

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

Since completing the article above, I’ve naturally become interested in how those remaining buildings from that era are put to use - and with restoration projects taking place around the country at an astounding rate, the resurrection of these buildings has brought about a new level of awareness about the nation’s modern history. That history, which spans periods of Dutch, Spanish, Qing and Japanese-eras of colonial control, is something that was largely frowned upon in the nation’s classrooms during the Martial Law Period, but has within the last few decades become an important tool for helping the people of Taiwan become more aware of the history, where they come from, and more important has assisted in forming a Taiwanese identity.

For some people, a visit to these historic buildings can help them learn more about what it means to be Taiwanese. Some of the time though, people just want to sit in a coffee shop and relax - and thanks to places like Tokyo Bike Taipei, people can do just that while enjoying a bit of history at the same time!

Before I start, there are a few housekeeping notes that I’d like to remind readers about: The first is that I’m going to spend a bit of time introducing the historic building and what it was used for prior to it’s recent restoration and the coffee shop taking up residence within. The next thing I’d like everyone to keep in mind is that as always, I’m not getting paid for this post. I’ll briefly introduce the coffee shop, but I’m not going to be sharing photos of the menu or the coffee that I had while visiting - I’m not a food blogger and I’m writing this purely out of interest for the building - although I did enjoy my visit as I feel like the building is being put to pretty good use.

Shintomicho Market Dormitory (新富町食料品小賣市場員工宿舍)

Restored alongside the dormitory, the historic Shintomicho Market building was brought back to life as a cultural and tourist attraction in early 2017. An important part of the Bangkha neighborhood for at least nine decades, the building fell into disuse in the early 1990s and was abandoned for quite a while prior to the city recognizing it as a civic historic monument (市定古蹟).

Walking through the artistically-designed building today, you’d probably find it hard to believe that it was constructed to house a wet market - especially if you’ve had experienced walking through any of Taiwan’s other traditional markets. Constructed in 1935 (昭和10年), which was pretty much the height of the Showa era (昭和) in Taiwan, the building was designed as a fusion of eastern and western architectural styles, but also displayed the modern approach to construction that the era is best known for.

To better explain, Taiwan was taken over during the Meiji era (1868-1912), followed by the Taisho era (1912-1926), and then the Showa era (1926-1989). Each of these so-called ‘eras’ is named after the emperor who ruled over the Japanese empire at the time. When the Japanese first arrived in Taiwan in 1895 (明治28年), the construction and development that took place was rudimentary, and later refined during the Taisho era. Initially, the infrastructure required for major construction projects was constrained, but as time passed by and the island was developed, it became much easier to construct more complex buildings. No where is this more prevalent than in the history of the nation’s historic railway stations, some of which (despite being a century old) are second and third generation structures. So, as the island developed, construction techniques were refined, and the Showa era thus became one of the more artistic with regard to architectural design.

Compared to modern wet markets, which are naturally dark, dank and smelly, the authorities at the time constructed this beautiful building with natural ventilation and natural light, making it the kind of place where vendors would compete ferociously to get a spot.

The newly constructed market brought with it not only prosperity for the local vendors, but a more sanitary experience where people were able to purchase daily necessities in an era where modern supermarkets had yet to appear. Attracting both Taiwanese and Japanese customers, the market would have been a cultural melting pot with freshly grown produce and meat. Suffice to say, like most buildings that were constructed in the late stages of the colonial era, prosperity would have been somewhat fleeting as the outbreak of the Second World War brought with it air raids by the allied forces and the decline of the local economy.

In the post-war era, the influx of refugees fleeing the Chinese Civil War created new opportunity for the market. One of the issues however was in order to actually open up shop within the building, vendors were required to obtain a license, something that would have been rather difficult for the local Taiwanese members of society given the political climate of the Martial Law period. Thus, the market started to expand from the original building to a wet market (which continues to remain in operation today) as it was easier for vendors to set up unlicensed stalls nearby. As Taiwan continued to develop over the next few decades, wholesale markets, supermarkets and hypermarkets started appearing across the country making it difficult for traditional wet markets to compete with lower prices.

As mentioned earlier, the market building was more or less abandoned in the early 1990s, and was left on its own for quite a while prior to being recognized as a protected civic monument. Years of abandonment left the building in pretty terrible shape, but it has been beautifully restored, and even though I’m not particularly a big fan of the way it’s used today, it’s a pretty cool place to visit if you’re in the area, especially for anyone visiting Longshan Temple (龍山寺).

The purpose of this article however isn’t to introduce the market, something that I might go into more detail in the future, but instead the Japanese-style dormitory constructed to the rear, where the TokyoBike Taipei coffee shop is located today.

Unfortunately, very little information has been published about the former dormitory, so I’ll be presenting a few facts based on the little information I could find and mixing it with my personal experience within the building and comparing it to some of the other buildings I’ve introduced in the past in order to offer readers a better idea of what you’d see during a visit to the building today.

Constructed alongside the market, the historic dormitory dates back to 1935, and to the naked eye appears similar to almost all of the other Japanese-era dormitories that I’ve introduced in the past. There is however a major difference about the building’s design that makes is different. Constructed to house the administrator of the market (and his family), the building also provided office space for the daily operation of the market. So, even though it might appear similar to other Japanese-era homes from the outside, the interior has some slight design variations that make it stand apart.

Officially classified as a ‘Single-Family Dwelling’ (獨棟木造日式建築), the size of the building was determined by the standard set in 1922 by the Taiwan Colonial Government’s building standards policy (台灣總督府官舍建築標準). In what would have been considered a low-ranking position in terms of the hierarchy of Japanese-era civic officials, the amount of space allotted for the construction of the building would have been about 83㎡ (25坪). In this case though, given that an office space for the administration of the market would have been included in the architectural design of the house, it would have made the amount of space somewhat cramped for the family living there.

Link: 台灣日式建築:官舍 —— 台灣樣.建築百科

While the building combined both private and public functions, the spatial design of the interior allowed for a comfortable separation between these two spaces, offering privacy to the families who occupied the space over the years. That being said, as (what would have been considered) a low-ranking official, the entrances to the house were notably different in comparison to its contemporaries.

For the family, the main entrance would have passed through the kitchen, where you’d have to pass through to reach the private space. For guests, or business-related visitors, a separate entrance would have offered access from a door to the right of the main entrance, offering direct access to the office space. Today, that ‘office space’ continues to be used as an administrative space for the coffeeshop, so it’s not actually open to the public.

In this particular case, what made the ‘family-side’ entrance different from others was that it was connected directly to the kitchen, which in most cases would have been a rear door to a garden. Passing directly through the ground-level kitchen brings you to a set of stairs where you walk up to the elevated private section of the house. Today, the coffeeshop maintains a similar design in that the barista’s bar as well as the kitchen is located in this ground-level area with the guest seating area in within the private area.

Despite some of the differences in interior design, its important to note that the basic design rule for traditional Japanese homes remains the same in that the building consists of the following three functional spaces: a living space (起居空間), a service space (服務空間) and a passage space (通行空間). Within each of these ‘spaces’ there can be a number of rooms, depending on the size of the building, but this one is somewhat basic, so it’s easier to describe.

Starting with the service space, you’ll find the kitchen (台所 / だいどころ), bathroom (風呂 / ふろ) and washroom (便所 / べんじょ). Interestingly, the bathroom and the washroom were located on opposite ends of the long ‘engawa’ (緣側/えんがわ) veranda between the living space and the office space.

Part of the ‘passage space’, the engawa is a large sliding-door veranda that could be opened up to allow some fresh air into the building as well as a space for the family to relax given that they didn’t have much of a front yard. The rest of the passage space in the building however is not as clearly defined as other Japanese-era residences, which only really consists of the space between the kitchen and the private living area and the kitchen and the office space.

Finally, the ‘living space’ may seem considerably different from what we’re used to by western standards but what the space essentially consists of is a two-room open space separated by something similar to a living room with the other being the bedroom. The first of these two spaces (座敷 / ざしき), and is essentially a living room where the family could spend time together. Within this space you’d find an alcove referred to as tokonoma (床の間/とこのま) and a chigaidana (違棚 / ちがいだな), which are both reserved for placing some decorative elements in the living space. During the Japanese-era, you’d likely find calligraphy, floral arrangements or simple artistic elements. Today, you’ll find one of TokyoBike’s beautiful bicycles on display.

Link: Tokonoma (Wiki) 

The second section of the living space is the area reserved as the family’s sleeping space (居間 / いま). Essentially just an open space, save for the two alcoves against the walls, known as ‘oshiire’ (押入 / おしいれ). Within these two closet-like spaces, the family would store their bedding during the day, in addition to their clothing and other personal items. Today this narrow bedroom space is simply home to a couple of tables for the patrons of the coffeeshop.

TokyoBike Taipei

Originally located in the Minsheng East Community (民生社區), a block of social housing that was recently demolished by the city, Tokyo Bike Taiwan was forced to relocate after seven years of operation in it’s original location due to a long-planned urban renewal plan, which coincidentally also saw the demolition of the former Taiwan Railway Dormitories that I wrote about a few years back.

The dorm, which was initially occupied by Dadaocheng’s famed Hoshing 1947 pastry shop (合興壹玖肆柒) became available in late March of 2021 when the branch, which housed a traditional tea shop paired with the company’s pastries closed its doors after three years of operation. Even though the final Facebook post on Hoshing 88’s (合興八十八亭) page doesn’t offer a reason as to why the teashop went out of business, it’s safe to assume that a lack of business due to the COVID-19 pandemic was one of the deciding factors. Taiwan remained relatively safe for much of the pandemic, due to proactive policy decisions, but businesses around the country, much like the rest of the world, suffered immensely.

The opportunity to migrate from one historic area of the capital to an even more historic building was probably almost too good to be true for the owners of Tokyo Bike Taiwan, but as I described in my article about these Public-Private Partnerships, there is an official application process that has to be undertaken, and a fair advertising period has to be ensured so that the process is undertaken fairly and transparently.

Prospective renters have to come up with a business plan and undergo a long contract process prior to any agreements being signed. While the pandemic might have dealt the final blow to the building’s previous tenants, it could also have proved to be an opportunity for TokyoBike as competition was not likely to have been as fierce for the operational rights of the building. The application was obviously approved, and on December 21st, 2021, TokyoBike Taiwan officially reopened in the Shintomicho Market.

Note: I’m just making some assumptions here. I haven’t actually confirmed any of that.

Suffice to say, that is an oversimplification of the events that led up to the move to Wanhua.

This leads me to an important point - TokyoBike Taiwan is primarily a bike-selling and rental company that also provides general maintenance for the hip Japanese bicycles. You won’t see any of the bike sales taking place within the coffeeshop though, which begs the question: Where are all the bikes?

The bike showroom and the coffeeshop are separated, with the latter located within the beautifully restored Shintomicho Market building, known today as the “Taipei U-Mkt”, which offers a beautiful showroom on the second floor of the building as part of the rental agreement with the city.

The TokyoBike café features a menu of reasonably priced coffees, single-origin drip coffees, tea, sandwiches, hamburgers and appetizers that can be enjoyed within the cafe or for take out. Seating within the café is limited with only about four tables, a sofa, and bar-style seating next to the windows.

While I did enjoy my coffee when I visited the café, I have to say that I really appreciated the minimalist style design, which falls in line with the branding of ‘TokyoBike’, that officially follows a philosophy coined as “TokyoSlow,” combining ‘simplicity’, with ‘local art’ and ‘culture’.

Something that Taiwan’s hipster scene I’m sure really appreciates.

If any of this interests you and you find yourself in the area, then I recommend you stop by to check out the historic building and try some of the coffee or food they have available.

It's also a pretty good opportunity to let you know that if you visit the market or the coffeeshop that a good friend of mine just opened the Wanderland Bar within the Shintomicho Market where you can enjoy some cocktails and craft beer. As I’m posting this, I haven’t had the chance yet to visit, but I look forward to going soon, and I’ll make sure to stop by for a coffee as well!

Link: Wanderland Bar 萬華世界下午酒場 (Facebook)

Getting There

 

Address: #70, Sanshui Street, Wanhua District, Taipei (台北市萬華區三水街70號1樓)

GPS: 25.034700, 121.504860

If you plan on visiting this quaint little coffee shop, the best way to get there is to just hop on the Taipei MRT. I could spend a bunch of time telling you how to get there with a car, scooter, or Youbike, but in each of these cases, it doesn’t really make a lot of sense to take either of these methods of transportation.

The reason for this is actually quite simple - parking in Wanhua, especially near Longshan Temple is a notorious pain in the ass. There are, of course, some parking lots and roadside parking spaces nearby, but it’s likely that you’ll find yourself circling for quite a while before you find a spot. Similarly, the closest Youbike docking station is near the entrance to the temple, but the coffeeshop is at least a five-to-ten minute walk from there, depending on the amount of foot traffic in the area.

If you choose to make use of the fastest and most convenient method of travel, simply hop on the Taipei MRT’s Blue Line (板南線) and make your way to Longshan Temple Station (龍山寺捷運站). From there you’ll want to head in the direction of Exit 3 (3號出口) where you’ll find a small alley on the left. From the exit you just walk to the end of the alley and you’ll find the coffeeshop hidden in a corner by the old Xinfu Market (新富市場) and the Shintomicho Cultural Market (新富町文化市場). If you take the MRT, the walk to the coffeeshop should take less than a minute, and you won’t have to pay for or search for parking!

Website: TokyoBike Taiwan | Facebook

Hours: Tuesday - Sunday (08:30 - 6:00)

While in the Bangkha (艋舺) area, there are a number of things that you can do to pass your time. In addition to the coffeeshop you’ll find what’s known as the Bangka Big Three Temples (艋舺三大廟門) -  Longshan Temple (艋舺龍山寺), Qingshan Temple (艋舺青山宮) and Qingshui Temple (艋舺清水巖) in addition to Bopiliao Historic Block (剝皮寮歷史街區) and several night markets.

As far as I can tell, since the opening of the coffeeshop within the historic dorm, it has become quite a popular spot for local Instagrammers and coffee lovers. Truth be told, I visited the during the week and was fortunately able to avoid the crowds, but a friend visited a few days later and commented that there weren’t any seats available and there were a bunch of people outside taking photos. If you’re planning a weekend visit, it’s probably important that you keep this in mind as the seating within the old dorm is quite limited.

The popularity of the coffeeshop is something that can hopefully last for quite a while, and I hope that its success is one that others might consider when applying to form a partnership with the government in one of these historic buildings. Putting these places to good use is one of the best methods of ensuring that they continue to be saved, allowing people to continue enjoying them for years to come!

References

  1. 台北最美單車咖啡廳「tokyobike」!落腳萬華新富町,獨棟木造日式古蹟建築 (Shopping Design)

  2. Taipei's U-Mkt: A traditional Market Reborn (Taiwan Panorama)

  3. 新富町文化市場 (Travel Taipei)

  4. 新富町文化市場──古老市集的新生 (中央社)

  5. 新富市場 (國家文化資產網)


Nishi Honganji Square (西本願寺廣場)

Walking around Taipei’s Ximending Shopping, have you ever come across the random bell tower on the side of the road? If so, you might have asked yourself: “What’s the deal with that Japanese-looking thing in one of the city’s hippest urban areas?” Today, I’m here to answer that question, and possibly any others you might have about this piece of the city’s history.

Suffice to say, ‘Ximending’ (西門町), might never have become the popular place it is today without these buildings, and the urban development that came with them. So, in this article, I’m going to focus on the modern history of Ximen, introduce the building which was once located next to the bell tower, and the park that exists there today.

As usual, I’m going to provide some pretty in-depth information about some of these things, so if you just want to know about what exists there today, feel free to scroll down below to where I introduce the ‘Nishi Honganji Relics’ section, which focuses on the contemporary usage of the land as a public park and cultural space, a short distance away from the hustle and bustle from what has become known as the ‘Mecca’ of Taiwan’s youth culture.

Ximending (西門町 / せいもんちょう)

It’s unlikely that there are many people who visit Ximen today who stop and think: “I wonder what this place looked like a century ago?” The modern shopping district that we know and love has developed so much over the past few decades that it doesn’t even resemble a shadow of its former self. But this is what I do, I stop and look at things and try to appreciate the long history that helped to transform parts of our communities into what they are today.

Well over a century prior to becoming known as the “Shibuya of Taipei” and the arrival of all of its theaters, night clubs, karaoke bars and shopping, the ‘Ximen’ area was simply just a patch of swampy wilderness outside of the city’s ‘Baocheng Gate’ (寶成門), the Qing-era gate, more commonly known as the ’West Gate’ or ‘Ximen’ (西門), in Mandarin, which is where the area derives its name.

When the Japanese arrived in Taiwan in 1895 (明治28年), the area was completely undeveloped and consisted primarily of dengue-infested swamps, part of the first generation railway, and a road between the walled area of the city (台北城內) and Bangkha (艋舺), or Wanhua (萬華). Showing little interest in the confined nature of Chinese-style walled cities, the Japanese quickly got to work knocking them down in order to carry out their grander plans for massive urban development in what would be the capital of the empire’s new overseas colony.

Note: For a bit of scale, if you walked from the North Gate (北門) to the Ximen MRT Station (where the original west gate once stood), it would likely only take you about ten minutes. That walk would essentially consist of half of the walled area that was the ‘Taipei’ of the Qing-era. That being said, there were other developed areas nearby like Dadaocheng (大稻埕) and Bangkha (艋舺) that were located outside of the walls. Nevertheless, old Taipei was just a very small piece of one of the neighborhoods within the capital today.

Much of the development of the city in the initial years of the Japanese Colonial Era was influenced by the re-construction (re-routing) of the railway, which was essential to the empire’s plans for exerting control over the island as well as extracting its precious natural resources. With the railway from the northern port city of Keelung running through the north-eastern portion of Taipei, it curved in a south-western direction and made its way through Ximen and Bangkha before crossing the river on its way further south.

Having the Qing-era walls in the area complicated the construction of the south-bound railway out of the city, which was re-routed from the original track laid by the Qing a decade or so earlier. Within the first decade of the colonial era, the city developed at an almost inhuman speed with roads, public works and new buildings popping up all over the place. With all of the construction taking place, it might have seemed like the early years were all-work-and-no-play, so the government made the decision to follow the example of East Tokyo’s popular Asakusa District (浅草 / あさくさ), a specialized entertainment and economic area, and came up with plans to develop the land near the old Western Gate.

Taking inspiration from the Qing-era gate, the Japanese named the neighborhood “Seimon-chō” (西門町 / せいもんちょう), which translates directly to ‘Ximending’ in Mandarin. Starting in 1897 (明治30年), the area became home to business and entertainment facilities starting with the Taihokuza Theater (臺北座 / たいほくざ), then the Eiza Theater (榮座 / えいざ) and the still existing Seimon-cho Market and Department Store (西門市場八角樓), known today as the Red House Theater (紅樓劇場). In addition to theaters, markets and department stores, Ximen also became home to a number of restaurants and bars, marking the start of an entertainment, shopping and fine dining paradise, something which hasn’t changed for more than a century.

Link: Kishu An (紀州庵文學森林)

Business and entertainment in the area continued to thrive throughout the Japanese-era as the number of theaters continued to expand. When the Second World War ended and the Japanese were forced to surrender control of Taiwan, they left the citizens of the capital with a well-established appreciation for motion pictures and entertainment, and that is something that carried on in the post-war period as ‘Ximen’ continued its expansion, consuming the Japanese-era neighborhoods known as Wakatake-chō (若竹町 / わかたけちょう), Shinki-chō (新起町 / しんきちょう), Suehiro-chō (末廣町 / すえひろちょう), Kotobuki-chō (壽町 / ことぶきちょう) and Tsukiji-chō (築地町 / つきじちょう).

Today, the shopping district is home to over twenty theaters and thousands of stores and vendors catering to an estimated three million visitors per month. The modern era however hasn’t been all fun and games for Ximen though - In the early 1990s, business in the district declined as there was a shift towards the East District (東區) of the city, where massive department stores were constructed. Lending a hand to the struggling Ximen, the Taipei City Government designated the district as the Ximending Pedestrian Area (西門町商圈行人徒步區), prohibiting vehicles from entering the area on weekends and national holidays. Then, in 1999 (民國88年), the Ximen MRT Station (西門捷運站) opened for service and assisted in bringing the district back to life, offering quick and convenient access.

Unfortunately, the COVID-19 pandemic has proved to be yet another nail to the heart of the shopping district with many vendors forced to shut their doors due to the lack of tourists, shopping and high cost of rent.

Once we put this pandemic behind us, you can be sure that this historic entertainment district will once again make its triumphant return, and all the ‘for rent’ signs we see now will quickly disappear!

Changing so much over the past century, it is surprising, yet heartening that we can still find some historic locations among the constantly changing face of the district’s urban landscape. Given that Ximen was developed during the Japanese-era (1895-1945), it should go without saying that the vast majority of the historic attractions you’ll come across in the area are related to that period of Taiwan’s history.

Some of those historic locations we can enjoy are the Red House Theater (which was recently restored), the Taipei Mazu Temple (台北天后宮), originally a Japanese Buddhist temple (Hong-Fa Temple 弘法寺 / こうぼうでら), Fahua Temple (Hokke-ji / 法華寺 / ほっけじ) and the subject of this article, the Nishi Hongan-ji Park.

Nishi Hongan-ji Temple (西本願寺)

Taking inspiration from Tokyo’s Asakusa District, the Ximending Shopping and Entertainment District was also home to some important places of worship. Just like the ancient Sensō-ji Buddhist Temple (金龍山浅草寺 / せんそうじ) back in Tokyo, Ximen was chosen as the home for the Taiwan Branch of the Nishi Hongan-ji Buddhist Temple (西本願寺台湾別院 / ほんがんじたいわんべついん).

While it certainly wasn’t comparable in size to the ostentatious ‘Buddhist’ temples you’ll find in Taiwan these days, the Nishi Hongan-ji temple was one of Taiwan’s first massive places of worship, when it was completed, it dominated the city’s skyline.

Constructed as the ‘Taiwan Branch’ of Kyoto’s Nishi Hongan-ji temple (西本願寺), the temple was part of the “Pure Land” sect of Buddhist temples, better known as the Jōdo Shinshū (浄土真宗). As one of Japan’s largest Buddhist organizations, the massive Taiwan branch was constructed in an attempt to show the power and prestige of the group and its eagerness to expand its number of followers in the colony.

Links: Nishi Hongan-ji | Jōdo Shinshū (Wiki)

Regarded as a Japanese National Treasure and designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site, the Nishi Hongan-ji Temple in dates back to 1591, and is one of the most widely visited destinations in the historic Japanese capital of Kyoto. Officially known as the “Jodo Shinshu Hongwanji-ha” (淨土真宗本願寺派 / じょうどしんしゅうほんがんじは) sect, there are more than a hundred branches throughout Japan, and the organization has expanded internationally over the years with branches constructed around the world.

As one of the organization’s first overseas branches, the Jodo Shinshu were one of the first Japanese Buddhist organizations to land in Taiwan. Monks were embedded within the ranks of the army and were tasked with comforting soldiers on expedition, taking care of the injured, holding Buddhist funerals for the deceased and escorting their remains back to Japan.

The history of the ‘Taiwan Branch’ got its start in 1897 (明治30年) when the group purchased around 8300㎡ (2500坪) of land in Taipei’s Shinki-chō (新起町 / しんきちょう). A few years later, thanks to a generous grant of 25,000 Yen from the headquarters back in Kyoto, the colonial government approved an application to construct a ‘temporary’ temple complex located near where the park is located today. With plans for a future migration to a permanent home, the temporary location was set up with a Main Hall (本堂), Assembly Hall (集會所) and dormitories for the monks.

The ‘temporary’ situation lasted until the early 1920s, when the colonial government implemented an ambitious urban development plan (市區改正) that re-shaped and modernized the city by improving roads and constructing public works that took care of sanitation and sewage. Given that parts of the temple were located in an area that was slated for the construction of a major road (currently Changsha Street 長沙街), the group purchased an additional plot of land just south of where the new road would be constructed.

Portions of the original temple had to be demolished and reconstructed to comply with the urban development plan, however it was a relatively fortunate situation, as the plot of land originally occupied by the temple connected directly to the new plot.

This meant that they had more space and were were able to move things around, and eventually expand.

In 1922 (大正11年), the Mausoleum (御廟所 /ごびょうしょ), Bell Tower (鐘樓 / しょうろう) and Jushin Assembly Hall (樹心會館 / じゅしんかいかん) were completed. Then, in 1924 (大正13年), the abbot’s official residence (輪番所) was reconstructed. It would take until 1931 (昭和6年) however for the massive Main Hall (本堂 / ほんどう) to officially re-open its doors.

At nearly 1000㎡ (300坪), the Main Hall was constructed on a large reinforced concrete base facing east in the direction of the Governor General’s Office. The upper section of the building, including much of its giant roof was constructed of Taiwanese Red Cypress (紅檜). The interior space of the building featured high-ceiling space and its size was measured in an old style of measurement listed as seven ‘bays’ wide and seven ‘bays’ in length (正面七開間,縱深亦為七開間), which is approximately 31.5 meters in length and width in metric and reached a height of around 76 feet, equal to a seven or eight story building by today’s standards.

In addition to the upper floor space, the concrete base was also functional in that it included space for a library, conference rooms, etc. The interior space on the upper floor was divided into two different sections, the outer section (外陣) and the inner sanctum (內陣) with the outer section occupying the majority of the space featuring large sliding panel doors on the three sides of the front half of the building and a large open space for meditation and worship. The inner sanctum on the other hand would have been home to an area that was cordoned off, accessible only to the monks at the temple with a large shrine against the rear wall.

The architectural design of the Main Hall largely followed that of the Goeidō Hall (御影堂), known in English as the “Founders Hall”, at Kyoto’s Nishi Hongan-ji Temple. Historic photos of the interior of the Taipei temple match up quite well with what we can see today at the historic building in Japan, but more notably, the roof of the building in Taipei was designed to be almost a replica of the original.

One of the saddest things about the loss of this building is that there are few traditional buildings from the Japanese-era that remain in Taiwan which feature a roof as grand as what you would have seen at this temple. The few that come close would be the Tainan Martial Arts Hall, Changhua Martial Arts Hall, or the Taoyuan Shinto Shrine, however none of them were comparable in size, and each of them vary in their architectural design.

Note: It’s important to remember that even though the height of the building was a total of 76 feet, at least three quarters of its total size would have been the roof, which was meant to display the grand nature of the building. The importance of the roof’s architectural design cannot be understated, and it is what made the building so iconic.

Where the building’s roof was similar to many of the other traditional Japanese-style buildings around Taiwan was that it was designed in the ubiquitous irimoya-zukuri (入母造 / いりもやづくり) architectural style. More commonly known as the ‘East Asian hip-and-gable roof’ (歇山), these roofs essentially consist of a ‘hip’ section that slopes down on all four slides and a ‘gable’ section on the opposing sides. Originally taking inspiration from Chinese-style architectural design, the Japanese irimoya style evolved over the centuries and began to take shape as mastery over construction techniques improved.

Links: East Asian hip-and-gable roof (Wiki) | Irimoya-zukuri 入母屋造 (JAANUS)

Post-war photo of the temple dominating the Ximen skyline

The roof at the Taipei temple followed the same irimoya-style hip-and-gable roof as what you’d find at Nishi Hongan-ji back in Kyoto, but as it was a much newer structure, the construction techniques differed slightly. The Taipei temple made use of iron trusses within the interior of the building in addition to the reinforced concrete pillars on the exterior that extended from the base to the roof to help to stabilize it’s massive weight.

Where it remained the same however, and what would make it rare in Taiwan today, was that it featured a very steep slope on the ‘hip’ with ‘hongawarabuki’ (本瓦葺 / ほんかわらぶき) tiles. These tiles, which are a mixture of flat broad concave tiles (平瓦 / hiragawara / ひらがわら) and semi-cylindrical convex tiles (丸瓦 / marugawara / まるがわら) created a visual effect that made the roof look as if it were an incoming tsunami.

I’m sure all these official names don’t make a lot of sense to most people, so to explain it simply, the cylindrical tiles are laid first and looked like giant bamboo trees running down the length of the roof. The flat tiles on the other hand ran horizontally and acted as protective covers for the seams or joints where they met.

At the top of the roof there was a thick ‘oomune’ ridge that ran horizontally along the length of the building decorated with ‘shishiguchi’, or ‘lion-mouth tiles’ on the ends. Running vertically down the roof were similarly decorated ridges known as ‘kudarimune’ and next to them ‘corner’ ridges that are split into two sections referred to as ‘sumimune’ and ‘chigomune’ on the end. Finally, on the ends of each of the triangular gable sections you’d find beautifully decorated gegyo (懸魚 / げぎょ) ‘hanging fish’ wooden boards, used as a charm against fire, similar to porcelain dragons on Taiwanese temples.

Once again, you’re being inundated with a bunch of technical terms, so I’ll provide a diagram blow that points to each of the functional and decorative aspects of the roof just mentioned:

  1. oomune (大棟 / おおむね) - the ridge that runs along the top of the roof.

  2. shishiguchi (獅子口 / ししくち) - decorative ‘lions-mouth’ elements on the edges of the ridge.

  3. kudarimune (降棟 / くだるむね) - a ridge that descends vertically from the top ridge.

  4. sumimune (隅棟 / すみむね) - a corner ridge that connects to the gable.

  5. chigomune (稚児棟 / ちごむね) - the end of the corner ridge, decorated with shishiguchi (2).

  6. marugawara (丸瓦 / まるがわら) - semi-cylindrical convex roof tiles that look like bamboo.

  7. hiragawara (平瓦 / ひらがわら) - flat roof tiles that lie between the marugawara (6).

Sadly, after the war, the temple complex was used for a variety of purposes, which prior to the ‘February 28th Incident’ was occupied by the infamous Garrison Command, which rounded up political prisoners and took them to the temple for interrogation, imprisonment, or worse. Later, it was used as housing for a merry-go-round of refugees who came to Taiwan with the Chinese Nationalists. The number of people coming and going from the temple became a precarious issue and ultimately, the grounds became home to illegal squatters, which left it in pretty terrible shape, before it caught fire and burnt to the ground in 1975 (民國64).

After much of what once existed was destroyed, the grounds became home to even more illegal squatters, who set up their own little village of tin-sheeted houses (鐵皮屋), something that was highly frowned upon by the government, especially in one of the city’s most important districts.

And that ladies and gentlemen is where I’m going to move on to the current situation regarding the Nishi Hongan-ji Relics Park!

Nishi Hongan-ji Relics Park (西本願寺廣場)

The historic and cultural value of the grounds were largely ignored until the city had enough of the eyesore next to one of its most important shopping and business districts. In 2006 (民國95年), an urban renewal initiative that sought to knock down the illegal squatter village simultaneously recognized what little remained of the temple as a Protected City-Level Monument (市定古蹟). By 2011 (民國100年), the remaining residents on the grounds were relocated, and a project to convert the grounds into an urban green park, with restoration on the few remaining temple structures were set to be the main attraction.

Restoration of the buildings and the space were officially completed in 2014 (民國103年), and a breath of life was brought back to the historic grounds, reborn as ‘Nishi Hongan-ji Square’ (西本願寺廣場), a multi-purpose park and cultural space gifted to the residents of Taipei.

Unfortunately, it goes without saying that much of what once existed on the grounds has become a distant memory as the various fires over the decades left the majority of once existed in ruins. Lost from the original temple are the Main Hall (本堂), the Mausoleum (御廟所), the Administration Building (庫裏), the Sanmon Gate (山門 / さんもん), and the monks dormitories. What was able to be saved however are the beautiful Bell Tower (鐘樓), the Jushin Assembly Hall (樹心會館), the Abbot’s Residence (輪番所), and the concrete base of the Main Hall.

Below, I’ll briefly introduce each of the remaining pieces of the temple individually, and the purpose they serve today as park of the urban culture park.

Bell Tower (鐘樓 / しょうろう)

The Bell Tower, an integral part of a Japanese Buddhist temple was located within the interior of the complex, just past where the Main Gate (山門) once stood. Coincidentally, once of the smallest parts of the original temple, the Bell Tower today serves as the park’s main attraction. Despite not burning down with many of the other sections of the original temple, the original Bell Tower met with a similar fate as the village of squatters more or less just built around the original base of the tower, consuming it into their village.

Completely reconstructed based on the design of the original, the Bell Tower today features a massive Bonshō bell (梵鐘 / ぼんしょう) housed within what is known in Japan as the “shōrō” (しょうろう). Japanese-style Bell Towers typically fall into two different styles of architectural design, both of which can still be enjoyed in Taipei today - The first type is the most traditional variety known as “hakamagoshi” (褲腰), typically a walled two-storey hour-glass shaped building with the bell located on the second floor. This type can be viewed at the nearby at the historic Soto Zen Daihonzai Temple (曹洞宗大本山別院) as well as the Chin'nanzan Gokoku-ji Temple (鎮南護山國禪寺), each of which are only a few stops away on the MRT.

The second type is considered a ‘newer’ (13th century “new”) variety known as “fukihanachi“ (吹放ち), which is essentially an open structure with no walls, and a bell hanging in the middle.

Within both of these architectural styles, the common feature is that they are typically adorned with a beautiful Japanese-style gabled (切妻造) or hip-and-gable (入母屋造) rooftop. In the case of this Bell Tower, the roof is absolutely beautiful and has to be enjoyed close up. The restoration team obviously spared no effort in ensuring that the roof of the bell tower remained faithful to the original and took special care to have Japanese experts assist in the construction process.

The four sided hip-and-gable roof of the tower features a sloping roof with triangular ‘tsuma’ (妻 / つま) on each of the gable-ends. Designed and decorated similarly to the roof of the former Main Hall, the roof consists of many of the decorative elements mentioned above - What you’ll want to pay the most attention to however are the amazing carpentry skills that make up the network of support trusses within the roof. Working together with the four pillars that connect to its cement base, the trusses are both functional as well as beautiful in their decorative designs.

Bell Towers serve both practical and symbolic purposes as they are thought to have the power to 'awaken people from the daze of everyday life and the pursuit of worldly things like fame and fortune’ and the daily ringing of the bells is a reminder to people of all walks of life to slow down and enjoy life. Even though the Bell Tower serves as a reminder of the beautiful temple that once occupied this space, the bell is only rung on special occasions.

Jushin Assembly Hall  (樹心會館)

Dating back to 1923 (大正12年), the Jushin Assembly Hall (樹心會館) was an interesting addition to the temple complex. The ’T-shaped’ Japanese-Western fusion building was constructed with a mixture of brick and wood and features a Japanese-style roof and a ‘karamon’ (唐門 / からもん) entrance. The interior of the building however is considered western-style and was meant to show off the ‘modernity of the era’ (表現新時代精神), with it’s open space and western-style roof trusses. The brick building features quite a few large windows, allowing for considerable amount of natural light in the building during the day, which helps the iconic Taiwan Renga (台灣煉瓦株式會社) red bricks to shine.

Originally used as a space to educate visitors in Buddhist doctrine, the building today is operated by the Taipei City Department of Cultural Affairs and is used as an exhibition and event space. Unfortunately, the space isn’t always open to the public, so if you visit, you may not be able to explore the interior of the building.

Abbot’s Residence (輪番所)

The former Abbot’s Residence is a simple Japanese-style wooden residential-style dormitory that was elevated off of the ground on a cement base. Similar to many of the other Japanese-era houses that I’ve written about over the years, the house was beautifully restored by the city government and the exterior features recently planted cherry trees along the walkway to its entrance that bloom in the winter.

While the residence is ‘technically’ open to the public, it is currently occupied by the ‘Eighty-Eightea Rinbansyo’ (八拾捌茶輪番所), a popular tea house that promotes Taiwanese tea. Despite being a popular destination for Instagrammers, the interior of the building has some pretty strict guidelines with regard to photography, and more or less only allows people with smart phones to take photos, unless a permit is applied for beforehand.

The leasing of the building to the tea shop is part of a government effort to make use of these historic buildings for commercial purposes, recouping some of the public funds used for the restoration of the park - something which I’ve written about in the past.

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

In the future, I’ll likely write a dedicated article about the Abbot’s Residence and the Tea House that occupies the space today, but it’s one of those experiences that I’ll have to plan long in advance in order to be able to take proper photos within the historic residence.

Link: Eighty-Eightea (八拾捌茶)

Open Daily from 11:30 - 6:00pm

Base of the Main Hall (本堂臺座)

Taipei 101 might be one of the most iconic structures in the modern capital of Taiwan, but its safe to say that the original Main Hall of this temple (in addition to a few others) were the Japanese-era equivalent. The historic photos of the building that you can see above are an important reminder of the once iconic building that dominated the city’s skyline.

Even though the building was destroyed, the Taipei City Government restored the reinforced concrete base of the building to ensure that its memory can be enjoyed for years to come. The base, which was restored and renovated along with the rest of the park is currently home to the Taipei City Archives (臺北市立文獻館), and features some important historic exhibitions where you learn about the city’s history. The stairs of the base are likewise a pretty popular spot for residents of the city to relax, enjoy their lunch, or chat with friends.

The City Archives are open to the public Monday to Friday from 9:00am - 5:00pm.

Entry is Free of Charge

Getting There

 

Address: #174-176 Zhonghua Road, Section 1, Wanhua District, Taipei City

(臺北市萬華區中華路1段174-176號)

GPS: (25.040200, 121.507290)

Located a short distance from Taipei’s popular Ximending (西門町) shopping district, the Nishi Hongan-ji Square is a beautiful natural space that highlights the history of the Ximen area. Given that it is within walking distance of not only the shopping district, but all of the other historic and cultural attractions in the area, a visit to the park is one that won’t take too much time out of your day.

Conveniently located just south of Ximen’s MRT station, getting there is pretty simple.

Due to its proximity to the MRT Station, I’m not going to provide information for anyone driving a car this time.

If you’ve got a car, simply input the address provided above and you’ll be able to map out your route pretty easily. That being said, the Ximen area is one of the busiest and hippest parts of town, so parking your car nearby can be both frustrating and expensive. I highly recommend you just park it elsewhere and make use of the city’s excellent public transportation, instead.

MRT

The easiest and probably the most convenient way to get to the area is to make use of Taipei’s excellent MRT network. The Nishi Hongan-ji Relic Square is located a three or four minute walk from Ximen Station (西門站) on the network’s Blue Bannan Line (板南線). Once you’ve arrived at the station, you’ll want to take Exit 1 (1號出口) and walk south on either Zhonghua Road (中華路) or Hanzhong Road (漢中路), where you’ll also see the iconic Ximen Red Building (西門紅樓).

Bus

In addition to the MRT, Taipei’s Public Bus network is also pretty useful, especially if you’re coming from an area where you’d have to transfer trains a few times. The most convenient bus stop is located next to Ximen Station, which has almost two dozen different bus routes coming from all over the city. With so many buses, it’s difficult to link to all of them, so below, I’ll provide a list of the routes that are serviced by the Ximen Station Bus Stop. I highly recommend travelers make use of the Taipei eBus website, or download the Bus Tracker Taipei app on your phone (Android | iOS) or use the Real-Time Bus Tracking service offered on the eBus website.

Here are the following routes that service the station: #9, #12, #49, #202, #205, #206, #212, #232, #246, #249, #250, #252, #253, #260, #262, #304, #307, #310, #604, #624, #660, #667, #662, #667

Similar to the MRT above, the park is a short walk from the MRT Station and Bus Stops.

Youbike

If you find yourself riding around town on one of Taipei’s shared bicycles, you’ll be happy to know that there is a Youbike docking station conveniently located next to the park. You can simply dock your bike there when you arrive and get another one when you leave.

Despite what little remains today of one of Taipei’s most elegant Japanese-era temples, the park offers a fitting memorial to what once stood on the grounds, and the usage of space, whether its the museum, tea house, bell tower or the exhibition space, was carefully considered. While it’s highly unlikely that the historic temple will ever be reconstructed, the park remains a pretty cool natural space within one of the hippest parts of the city and offers a nice respite from the hectic shopping areas of Ximen.

There is a long list of public events that take place in the park throughout the year, so if you’re visiting for the first time, you can enjoy the beauty of the bell tower and learn about the city’s history in the museum. For those of us lucky enough to live in Taiwan on a long-term basis, the park is an excellent place to visit throughout the year, depending on what exhibitions or events are taking place.