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.

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.