The Not-So-Secret Garden: The Hsu Family Mansion in Dashe

I haven't felt like commenting on current affairs this week; if I have nothing unique to say, I don't necessarily see the point of blogging for the sake of it. 

But here's what I do want to talk about: Kaohsiung! I go for work a few times a year, and try to arrive early so I can meet up with friends and enjoy the city. Just before I got COVID -- and remained positive for a highly irritating 18 days -- I took one of these trips, stopping in Taichung on the way. In fact, that's probably how I got sick.

On this trip, I went out to Dashe (大社) to meet one of my oldest friends in Taiwan. She picked me up at Metropolitan Park station and we stopped at a well-regarded dumpling chain for lunch. Then, we decided to find the Hsu Family Mansion (許家古國). For a sleepy town, Dashe is packed with old farmhouses and mansions; in fact, it might be packed with them because it's sleepy: there's no particular reason to tear them down! You can read about some of these places here, although I haven't even been to every place I'd like to see in the area yet.

The Hsu house is notoriously hard to find. Despite being in downtown Dashe, in a lane but not far at all from a main road, my friend who actually lives in Dashe did not know where it was -- only that it existed. "It's like a secret garden," she said. Somewhere in the lanes in a more built-up part of the city, but we had no idea which lanes.

I had to find this place. I knew I wouldn't be the first. Local bloggers have been posting about it for ages. Ultimately, that's how I found it: a local blog with a picture of the correct lane marker. 

It turned out to be extremely easy once we knew the lane. It's very close to the intersection of Sanmin and Cuiping Roads (三民翠屏路口). The intersection itself is fairly interesting, with several Japanese-era buildings, and the temple (accessed by stairs or an elevator) is eye-catching, with some neat mid-century floor tile and a place to hang gold paper wishing papers that overlooks the road. It's dedicated to the Linshui Ladies, three women from Fuzhou who became Taoist priests and founded their own religious school (some say the term only refers to the oldest, Chen Jinggu). The large Japanese-era building next to it may be related to the Hsu family, and the smaller one across the street, now painted a creamy white, was once a hospital.

Head east on Cuiping Road and turn left at Lane 37, which is also the first lane you'll come across. Keep an eye out to your left until you see the roof of an old house peeking out over newer buildings. 





Technically, you have to cross private property to access the Hsu mansion. In reality, it's a tiny alley that winds past a few houses, and nobody really minds if you walk down it. The actual mansion and its courtyard are indeed private property, however. Someone now lives in the old mansion -- I'm not sure if she rents it or is a Hsu family descendant, and it seemed rude to ask -- and if she's home it's polite to ask if you can take a few photos. She said yes to us, and remarked that "foreigners" love to come here, implying she thought the whole thing was kind of overblown for just an old house. From all those blog links above, I am reasonably sure Taiwanese who enjoy hunting for heritage architecture come here more often, but I guess we big-noses stick out more. 







If you stop by and the resident is not there, it should be fine to take a few photos, but be respectful. It's someone's home. 









The Hsu mansion is an example of heritage arts where the artist matters more than the patron. Obviously, the Hsu family was prominent in Dashe; a Hsu was the chair of the Dashe Farmer's Association. The house was built in 1910, during the Japanese era, and isn't especially unique architecturally. What makes it stand out are the colorful Majolica tiles, the green glazed bottle railing on the second-floor balcony, and the outstanding brick carvings of Zhang Jiao (張叫). 

The Zhangs of Dashe have been known as shadow puppet artists for generations, since one of their ancestors founded a troupe in Dashe over 200 years ago. They became quite famous in the 1940s, performing around the world; the then-patriarch Zhang Decheng eventually awarded official 'national treasure'-level status for his creation of the intricate leather shadow puppets. Zhang Decheng died in the 1980s, but his grandson carries on the tradition. 

Zhang Jiao, Zhang Decheng's father, created the brick carvings that adorn the first floor of the Hsu Family Mansion, including the spring scrolls around the door. His work once graced many old houses in the Dashe area, but most have been torn down, so these examples of his artistry are rare and valuable. Zhang Jiao was also known as "Hanfan" (憨番), which are those creepy little carved dudes, often resembling Westerners, one sees holding up beams in old temples. 





On an interesting tangent, I'm not the only one who's never heard of a Hanfan outside Taiwan, and the story goes that they were modeled after Dutch colonists, as a means for locals to vent their frustrations -- the Hanfan always carry a heavy burden such as a roof beam and generally look a bit ridiculous. I've also heard of Hanfan being carved to resemble the person sponsoring the temple's creation, basically as a way for artists to show they're annoyed by the rich dude issuing orders. Why was Zhang Jiao, famous sculptor and scion of the Zhang shadow puppet family of Dashe, nicknamed "Hanfan"? Somebody surely knows, but it isn't me. 

In addition to the Zhang Jiao brick carvings and Majolica tiles, the Hsu mansion also has cochin-fired pottery reliefs (you can learn more about those here) telling various folk stories, though these seem to mostly be on the second floor balcony where they're difficult to see, and you can't go up. You can kind of see it on the sides of the second story from below, but I couldn't get anything like a good vantage point.





Taken together, the house itself may be an architecturally simple two-story affair, but it is striking nevertheless. Its reputation as a 'hidden spot' or 'secret garden' (although lots of people have been here and it's often written up on government tourism websites) only enhances its allure. One blogger praised its fine use of "color theory", and I tend to agree: it's beautiful because all of those bright colors -- especially the blues and greens -- contrast against the red brick, which itself is beautifully carved.

In other words, the Hsu family certainly had money to spend on cochin pottery reliefs, carved brick from a renowned local artist and a profusion of Majolica tiles, and clearly someone involved in the design process had a flair for maximalist color and pattern.

Ukraine, Taiwan, musical satire and the values we fight for

I don't really like to compare Taiwan and Ukraine. They're different countries, and Russia and China are different aggressors as well.  However, I'm not sure it still works to refuse to compare them when it's clear China is watching what happens in Ukraine closely -- while quietly sidling up to Russia as it pretends not to take a side. 

I could go the depressing route on this and point out that they use the same bullshit rhetoric to justify annexationism and subjugation: same culture, same history, territorial integrity, the Ukrainian government/Nationalists in Taiwan are actually Nazis so we're just stopping Nazis and that makes us the good guys, this conflict was cooked up by the US/NATO to make big bucks from the war machine.

I could point out that they are actively encouraging milquetoast liberals (I'm a liberal, but I'm no milquetoast) to cry that we can only prevent World War III through appeasement of Russia so the "Ukraine conflict" won't escalate beyond Ukraine. It's not an accident that those same milquetoast liberals have been crying about how we can only prevent World War III by appeasement of China so the "Taiwan conflict" won't escalate beyond Taiwan. 

Implicit (and sometimes explicit) in this is the assumption that the Taiwanese and Ukrainian people are disposable. Acceptable sacrifices. 

If people truly believe appeasement stops world wars, however, I have some very bad news for them. It's never just about Taiwan or just about Ukraine, as it wasn't just about Sudetenland. When you make it clear a country can take over any other country they want if they can win, they will do just that. (And the US certainly has experience with this; they should know.)

The truth is, World War III is prevented by Russia losing, and soon. I don't see another way.

I could point out that Russia is alleging genocide in certain regions of the Ukraine but offering no evidence, whereas China is shouting at piles of evidence of their genocide and insisting it's all fake. Very soon, when people point out that Russia hasn't substantiated its genocide allegations, the same people who say the Uyghur genocide is fake are going to start screaming that if we believe allegations against China, we must believe them against Ukraine. 

The fact that there's clear evidence for the former but not the latter won't matter. They'll scream it all the same. 

And on, and on, and on it goes. We know Ukraine and Taiwan aren't exactly comparable, but I'm not sure Russia and China realize that. 

So, if we're gonna ride this train, let's ride it all the way to Leather Town and talk about queer video parodies that seek to mock dictatorships. At least that's fun! 

In 2014, Volodymyr Zelenskyy got together with some actor/comedian friends and used a song by Ukrainian boy band Kazaky to create a pro-Ukraine, anti-Russian government parody. The original song (called Love) isn't very deep or meaningful, The parody, however -- titled Made in Ukraine -- was absolutely a nose-thumbing at the Russian government. 

If you're thinking huh, that reminds me of how Made in Taiwan is used as a bit of a pro-Taiwan slogan against Chinese aggression -- yes, that's the direction this train is headed. Leather Town's a big place, apparently.

In the video, Zelenskyy and his buds tear off traditional Ukrainian Cossack costumes to reveal leathery, BSDM-inspired gear and dance around in stilettos. It's similar to the original video (which, despite being marketed toward women, is extremely homoerotic and audiences noticed), but says a lot more. And, as the Los Angeles Blade points out, in the wrong hands this could have come off as deeply offensive. 

But Zelenskyy and Co. used the imagery as a way to quite literally say that Ukraine is a country of acceptance, freedom and equality. That's not entirely true -- marriage equality is still not a reality in Ukraine. But, it seems to be doing a lot better than its Eastern European neighbors, especially Russia. In fact, Russia is practically leading the anti-gay crusade.

China is engaging in anti-LGBTQ+ crackdowns too, not unlike Russia. Remember that, because we'll be coming back to it.

Yet, seeing a bunch of straight men (as far as I know, Zelenskyy is straight) prance around in stilettos, perfectly at ease with their sexuality, saying that they'll dance traditional dances, carry traditional weapons and drink against the Russian invaders, "for freedom" and "for Ukraine"? That's a statement. They add that everything Russia hates (drag gear like lipstick on men and Pride parades) is "the entire Ukrainian Parliament" and they glitter-bomb and spit on Russian spies (I am not a fan of the stereotypical fat shaming when they caricature the Russian spy as a pig trying to eat a varenyky, but this fat lady is gonna let it slide. Fuck Russian spies!) 

What does this have to do with Taiwan?

Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy

Remember, not that long ago, when washed-up joke Fanny Liu wore a Chinese-flag evoking horror show of a dress and sang a flaming garbage truck of a song about how she loves China, and it will take Taiwan because they have things like pay apps and home delivery? (Nevermind that Taiwan has those too.) 

Remember how straight out of the patriarchy (pun intended) that video was, where basically the only draw was sexy dancing ladies half-heartedly twisting to cringe trashpop so badly that a few Taiwanese funeral strippers could out-do them easily? To really drive home the annexationism, most of the song was just chanting out names of provinces and how they're all okay.

Perhaps you don't, because Brian Tseng's parody of it (called Taiwan) got more than four times as many views.

I wrote about it at the time, and said similar things: it wasn't just about writing a funnier tune to mock Fanny Liu's garbage propo song. It entailed a group of Taiwanese male comedians, perfectly comfortable in their sexuality, dancing around in dresses and chanting the counties and cities of Taiwan. They even hired the same muscle dude! 

That song started out mocking Chinese tourists for wanting stuff in Taiwan (like tea eggs) or things China doesn't always have (like doors on the toilets and TSMC), which perhaps wasn't great. But later on, they went for the meat of it: here in Taiwan we can talk about Falun Gong (even if we don't like them) and Tiananmen Square. Through it they point out that Taiwanese have better musical taste than to listen to Fanny Liu, and there aren't too many CCP bootlicking artists.

At the end, Brian whispered that we also have masks, no rumors of organ harvesting, and the right to vote. Implicit in the song was an acceptance of different sexual orientations and ways of expressing yourself and your gender identity. 

I could see how someone might be offended by a bunch of straight men strutting around like drag queens (when they aren't drag queens), but all in all, I think that video pulled off exactly what it intended. From my perspective, it's great when men aren't hung up on acting super masculine or are afraid to don clothing gendered as female.

See the parallels now?

The songs are even stylistically similar, in that they're both dancey technopop in style and incorporate a lot of lyrical chanting, with a group of dancers in sexy outfits not taking themselves too seriously.

Both call on cultural or geographical touchstones to make it clear that their big bully neighbor's subjugationist propaganda has no purchase: Taiwan with its naming of the parts of the country as it throws Fanny Liu's trash right back in her face, and Made in Ukraine with its talk of the food, weapons and dances of the Ukraine. Both tie democracy and freedom to these ideas, and implicit in both is acceptance, not authoritarian hyperconservatism. 

Both are important reminders that in the face of seemingly insurmountable authoritarian pressure from an annexationist neighbor, especially when they're having trouble being heard by the world, comedy is one of the most important outlets people have to fight back. It's how you get people engaged, get a message out, make a point. No, I do not think comedians are today's philosopher kings (most comedians just aren't), but comedy as an art form matters in the fight for a more progressive world. 

Not just the comedy, but the music. China has tried repeatedly to put out pro-China, anti-Taiwan songs well beyond Fanny Liu's F-grade work, with some pretty horrible music that is apparently labeled "rap", except instead of Fuck the Police it's all about respecting totalitarian authority. Russia probably does too, I just haven't listened to any of it. 

Taiwan, on the other hand, consistently puts out pretty good music which might come across as patriotic or nationalistic but generally espouses love, acceptance, knowing your history and, well, good values in general. And these songs aren't even the newest ones out there!

Notably, just as Tseng's video focused on Taiwan, not how much the CCP sucks, Zelenskyy's focused on what was great about Ukraine and when it referenced Russia, stuck to spies and "Moscow" -- the Russian government more than Russia as a country. That they were both smart enough know the difference matters.

And trust me, I know the difference. In researching my own family history, I came across the anthem of the Dashnaksutiun, the Armenian liberation party my great grandfather was very active in for awhile, in the early 1920s. The lyrics are all about bloody flags, killing Ottomans, and standing with the party as a way of standing with Armenia. 

I'm pro-Armenia generally,  but it isn't good. It isn't funny. It isn't about the progressive and democratic values I hold dear. And it was a bad song. These songs are about countries, yes. They evoke tradition or geography. But they're not about allegiance to parties, but ideals. 

And they both show, as President Tsai herself has said, that progressive values can take root in traditional societies. They can and do flourish together. 

Good morning #Taiwan. Today, we have a chance to make history & show the world that progressive values can take root in an East Asian society.

Today, we can show the world that #LoveWins. pic.twitter.com/PCPZCTi87M

— 蔡英文 Tsai Ing-wen (@iingwen) May 17, 2019

China, of course, bans that music and even bans some Taiwanese musicians from Hong Kong. When their own musicians stand up, they get arrested. They get arrested in Russia, too.

And this use of comedy and music hasn't stopped with Tseng and Zelenskyy. Namewee and Kimberley Chen put out Fragile (玻璃心) not long ago, mocking sappy Mandopop love songs by saying how sorry they are that they are breaking poor China's heart by refusing to be annexed. 

Music matters, comedy matters, art matters. In this, I think we can compare Taiwan and Ukraine -- their use of comedy and music to make a point. Of course, not only are Russia and China moving in the opposite direction, towards repression and patriarchy, but these videos can't even be made in those countries. Democracy, liberty, acceptance, freedom of expression, progressivism, equality -- these values are related.

This is why it's not just about Ukraine or just about Taiwan. Both songs talk about countries, but they also talk about values. Allowing an authoritarian government to invade a neighboring country is wrong no matter what, but in these cases, it's happening to democratic countries that are moving toward progressivism, and share our values far more than Russia or China.

Appeasement doesn't work. But even if it did, at some point we've got to defend our values when they're threatened. Maybe we do that with comedy, or music. Maybe we do it by refusing a ride and asking for ammunition. 

If we don't, then our values don't mean anything. We can't even be said to hold them.

Pictures at a Closed Exhibition

On a personal note, if it seems I haven't been giving Lao Ren Cha as much attention as before -- that is correct. I'm consumed with a couple of bigger projects that take a lot of time and attention, but I'm not willing to talk about those now. And when it comes to current affairs, Nathan Batto and Donovan Smith have covered the KMT chair election and incoherent protesting (the signs literally say "Protesting!") sufficiently; I have nothing to add. I don't even want to touch the head-scratching "Taiwan Agreement", which of course does not exist. 

Instead, I want to talk about culture. Specifically, share some photographs from a now-closed exhibition at the Tainan Fine Arts Museum, which has two buildings: the Art Deco police station across the street from the Confucius Temple, and a modern, angular building just to the east of it. For visitors, the shop is in Building 2 (the new one) and a cafe which includes outdoor seating in the courtyard in Building 1 (the police station).

That the Japanese colonial era police station (itself a work of architectural beauty) later used by the KMT colonial dictatorship and their jackboot thugs, is now an art space dedicated to Taiwanese artistic expression and history is itself a type of art, I must say. To then take that space and fill it with Taiwanese temple art the same way European museums are chock full o' Jesus is another subversive and anti-colonial act: no colonial power, from the Qing to the Japanese to the KMT, has considered Taiwanese temple art, well, art.

Paying Tribute to the Gods: The Art of Folk Belief closed months ago, but its core purpose continues to influence my thinking -- the exhibit explored the intersections of traditional religious art in Taiwan with modern society, and where design meant to facilitate worship or prayer intersects with art and design. 

The exhibition book makes some interesting points: that in Taiwan art museums shy away from including obliquely religious art from Taiwan, because that's for temples, not museums: but why should they be? In Europe the museums are packed -- packed -- with religious art. Why should the notion that religious art can still be art apply to Europe but not Taiwan? It also notes that as Taiwan was not a center of 'high culture' during either the Qing or Japanese colonial eras, and neither sought to make it so. Although artists still emerged as one might expect, many artistically inclined people expressed themselves through trade or craft training, and many of these found opportunities to offer these expressions through temple art. 

Which, when you think about it, isn't all that different from pre-modern Europe.

Finally, the exhibition notes point out that temple festivals and parades produced art themselves, through flags, banners, palanquins, paper talismans and performances (the Eight Generals, tall gods), which rendered this 'temple art' into a normal part of people's daily lives, and which offered opportunities to incorporate creative design ideas.

The exhibit aimed to express this by showing traditional art -- antique painted door gods, three-dimensional gold embroidered banners, old talismans -- with modern interpretations of it. These include paintings and multimedia canvases from different eras, a light, film and text installation, sculpture works and more.

                    

I won't bother trying to describe them to you, rather, take a look at the pictures below and enjoy these works on your own terms. If you'd like to know the creator of any given work, let me know in the comments and I'll try to look it up in the exhibition book. 

This also got me thinking about Taiwanese vs. Chinese culture in general. I still hear the refrain that Taiwan and China "have the same culture", "largely share a culture" or "have the same language" and "cultural touchstones". It's difficult to say there's no truth whatsoever in this, but it's a deliberate and problematic oversimplification.

It's problematic in that it serves the purpose of tying Taiwan closer to China, perhaps closer than it rightfully ought to be. This argument is rarely, if ever, stated as a neutral observation. The intention is almost always to push the idea that Taiwan is connected to China and cannot escape that, which then opens the door to preposterous arguments that Taiwanese should entertain China's opinion about their country as having the same validity (or almost the same) as their own.

              

There are easy defenses to this: Taiwanese whose families came over from China hundreds of years ago did bring their traditions with them, but they've evolved so much that they're now unique to Taiwan. But those traditions came from a specific part of Fujian, they didn't represent China as a whole. Good examples of this include the Green Lion and the Eight Generals: both cultural touchstones specific to the part of Fujian that most settlers came from which are now common in Taiwan, but non-existent in China.

          

To call them generally "Chinese" is to construct an idea of what it means to be "Chinese" to serve your own opinion (usually, with these types, that Taiwan is some part of China). Cultures are non-static, they all evolve. Taiwan has not meaningfully been a part of China since the 19th century, and even then China's control of Taiwan was incomplete and -- dare I say it -- half-assed. But even if it hadn't been, think of any country and imagine how its culture has changed since 1895. 

And, of course, Taiwan has been influenced by Indigenous, Japanese, Western and KMT diaspora cultures in ways that China has not, while developing its own history and identity. All the while, China was changing in an entirely different direction. 

But most importantly, in my mind, is that how one relates to their cultural touchstones is a big part of defining 'culture'. This isn't an original idea of course, but it bears a note here. Yes, China has temples just like Taiwan. Not as many, but they're there. But the way Taiwanese people relate to their temples, and how they express that through art, is an expression of culture as well. This isn't just true with religion, but everything. This is a somewhat ineffable concept, so I'll just say that every time I come across something that appears culturally 'Chinese' or 'Japanese' in Taiwan, I do find that the way people relate to it and incorporate it into their overall worldview is still uniquely Taiwanese. 

I attempted an example of this difficult-to-express observation, but it turned into something that could be its own post, so maybe I'll write about it another day. The short of it is that no, beyond some old links (much as the US, Canada and Australia have with Europe) and some aesthetics, I do not at all think that Taiwan and China have "the same culture". I've lived in both countries and honestly, it has been exactly that: the experience of living in two different cultures.

In fact, the exhibit itself is an example. China has temples too. Some are still open, some have been restored, at varying levels of quality ranging from "good" to "bathroom tiles". You can visit them, though they're no longer sites of community gathering. 

Would anyone, anywhere in China be allowed to take over an old police station to showcase works of art that offer modern interpretations of and relationships to traditional cultural and religious belief, in a blatant artistic act of anti-authoritarianism -- literally deconstructing authority -- that centers local narratives?

Doubt it. 

That, not dragons or temples or banners, is Taiwanese culture. 

So for now, enjoy some pictures.