Rounding a final hairpin turn as one enters the mountain hamlet of Tan'nan, deep in the backwoods of Nantou County, a bizarre sight emerges. Standing out amid the drab habitations is a building as eye-catching and odd as the Pompidou Center in Paris, although not as ugly. It's neither a high-tech research center, nor a fancy museum, but rather the local elementary school.
Tan'nan Elementary School was designed by Taichung-based architect Chiang Le-ching
PHOTO COURTESY OF HSU YAN-CHI
Last week, as he took in the school from the gravel running track that circles the building, principal Lee Min-sheng
PHOTO COURTESY OF HSU YAN-CHI
Something new
If there were to be a revolution in Taiwanese architecture, common sense would place it in Taipei, where the patrons with the deepest pockets and most avant-garde tastes are based and where the most renowned architects have their offices. Few would expect it to take place deep in the hills of Nantou and Taichung counties, but that, according to many in the field, is precisely what is happening.
PHOTO COURTESY OF HSU YAN-CHI
"The 921 earthquake handed the current generation of Taiwanese architects a golden opportunity to completely reconsider and remake previously held notions surrounding public architecture," said Luo Shih-wei
PHOTO COURTESY OF J.M. LIN ARCHITECTS
When the 7.4-magnitude quake hit, it brought down schools in disproportionately high numbers, completely destroying 293 and damaging over 1,000. There was no great surprise, however, that so many schools practically disintegrated in the quake. A culture of shoddy design, lackadaisical construction practices and abundant kickbacks and skimming from allocated budgets were widely acknowledged and seen virtually as a way of life. Most people were simply grateful that the earthquake came in the middle of the night, when the children weren't at school, otherwise the quake's death toll would likely have been much higher than the 2,400 it killed.
"The previous government immediately realized that it was going to have to have to drastically change its practices in rebuilding the schools," said Yin Pao-ning (殷寶寧), assistant to the vice minister of education.
PHOTO COURTESY OF HSU YAN-CHI
The sheer magnitude of the post-quake school reconstruction and the 49 private organizations and individual donors that offered assistance for the project meant that many of the decisions about contractors and architects would take place over the heads of local authorities. This, it was hoped, would circumvent the local buddy networks that allowed such substandard structures to be erected in the first place.
PHOTO COURTESY OF J. M. LIN ARCHITECTS
The government further adopted the principle of Professional Construction Management, the standard model for construction projects to ensure quality and to keep the construction within a reasonable time period. The old practice of choosing contractors and architects based on the lowest price offered was discarded for a "best interest standard," which accounted for cost as well as safety and aesthetic.
The reconstruction was also tied in to the Ministry of Education's (MOE) ongoing educational reforms. The new design of educational facilities and space was conceived as an integral aspect of rethinking the country's entire educational system. One of the ministry's stated objectives was to "create campuses that not only are safe, but are beautiful spaces for study and safe havens for the community in times of natural disasters."
PHOTO COURTESY OF HSU YAN-CHI
Getting down to work
Three types of projects emerged in the months immediately following the quake: MOE-funded schools, privately funded schools, and cooperative projects between the MOE and any number of private groups.
The education ministry took the lead in rebuilding 152 schools, some with partial funding from private groups, while the private sector oversaw construction of 141 schools. Private organizations and individuals that wished to rebuild entire schools were handed primary responsibility for the schools they had chosen or were assigned, and were given free reign, within certain legal and safety parameters, to choose architects and contractors.
COURTESY OF CHIANG LE-CHING
Because many groups, like the Buddhist Compassion Relief Tzu Chi Foudation and the ROC Red Cross, have long been involved in construction of public facilities, their contacts among reliable architects and contractors were quickly called upon and construction began relatively swiftly. The central government, however, was not as expedient.
PHOTO COURTESY OF HSU YAN-CHI
By the time the DPP government came to power on May 20 last year, eight months after the quake, only one budget for school reconstruction had so far been approved and the chorus of discontent over the pace of reconstruction was getting louder.
Seizing the opportunity for a fresh start, the newly installed heads of the education ministry and Ministry of the Interior put in place a competitive selection system for architects and contractors, with decisions being made by a panel of respected professionals in the field.
"This open process for selecting architects and contractors resulted immediately in improved quality. Such a turnaround in operating procedures was inconceivable under the old government. It just never would have happened," said Luo.
As a result, many of the schools were built by architects who are just beginning their careers. Hsu Yan-chi (徐岩奇), for example, received his first contract with the project to rebuild Kuangying Elementary School in Chungliao township, Nantou County. Most of the architects were in their mid-30s.
"Small architecture firms secured about 80 percent of the contracts for the reconstruction, which helped bring lots of fresh and bold concepts to the design stage," said Huang Chun-ming
"The buildings are not necessarily perfect, as far as functionality is concerned, but many are indeed quite impressive visually. It is obvious that much more thought went into them than went into the usual block-like schools we see everywhere in Taiwan," Huang said.
Making a new home
Hsu designed Kuangying Elementary School to look like a home, which he concluded would help put the students at ease in their environment and allow them to concentrate more thoroughly on their studies.
After consultations with child psychologists and MOE administrators involved in educational reform, structural details were included that are intended to engage children's imaginations and suit specific aims of the reform agenda. The classrooms, for example, have glassed-in irregular corners that extend outside and face a scenic hill. The spaces are designed for quiet contemplation. According to Hsu, teachers now have trouble coaxing kids from the sunny corner and back to their seats.
The school also features elevated wooden walkways and concrete columns that only reach about two thirds of the way to the ceiling and then split into bright red steel bars which are intended to look like tree branches. The toilets were placed in the center of the school, as opposed to on an outer edge or in a corner, to reassure youngsters still slightly apprehensive about solo trips to the bathroom.
The careful consideration to children's needs and size is shared by most of the newly constructed schools in their unique ways. Tzu Chi-funded Torng-Lin Elementary School in Wufeng township, Taichung County has several niches carved out of its walls in which children can comfortably recline and the school's wooden banisters feature cartoon-like representations of local flora and fauna. Counterbalancing these playful elements is the school's central structure, a stately atriumed library with a glass roof that is more common to university libraries.
The schools which have received the strongest reaction from other architects, education ministry officials and local residents are Minho Elementary School and Minho Junior High School in Shuili township, Nantou County. Arguably the oddest design among the reconstructed schools, they show a mix of flamboyant postmodern and ancient Aboriginal building concepts.
The elementary school's administration building is built into a gradual slope, over which students will be able to walk on their way to their bunaglow-shaped modular classrooms. A separate building with a row of classrooms has tall windows set in hardwood and concrete walls and exposed steel buttresses. The junior high shares much the same design, except its only bungalow building is a library.
The schools' architect J. M. Lin
Only the schools funded by Tzu Chi recall the previous style of construction in their predilection for concrete which gives the organization's 49 schools a uniform gray shade. A spokeswoman for Tzu Chi defended the choice of materials by saying the gray of the concrete was "a soft, natural color" and that the organization's primary concern was safety. Tzu Chi used steel-reinforced concrete frames in all its schools, even if they were only one-story tall, which officials at the education ministry said was excessively cautious.
Tzu Chi's spokeswoman in response said: "Our master Sheng Yen said that in the event of another earthquake two things must not collapse -- hospitals and schools. Our's may not be the best-looking, but we know that at least they won't be crumbling down any time soon."
New statement
The Tzu Chi schools are only conservative by comparison to the more than 200 other schools being reconstructed. Even these, with their thoughtful details as at Torng-Lin, are a class apart from the school buildings commonly found elsewhere.
"The earthquake presented a rare chance for Taiwanese architecture to express itself. Too often architectural styles here are influenced by design currents in the US, Europe or Japan, but this time the size and urgency of the reconstruction effort forced a collective reflection on architecture in Taiwan," said Luo of Tunghai University.
The feeling that the new schools collectively represent a new architectural style in Taiwan is shared by the education ministry, which has dubbed its reconstruction program the "New Campus Movement" and by the participating architects.
"These schools represent a new statement of Taiwanese architecture," said Lin.
The children and parents rarely need convincing that the new schools are better than their previous ones, in part because they have spent the past two years either commuting to distant schools or occupying makeshift classrooms in their communities.
A number of the principals, however, are a bit more reserved in their praise. Lee Min-sheng at Tan'nan says he is bemused by his school building, but concedes that he particularly likes the little stools that fit into a hollowed-out part of the courtyard like parts of a puzzle.
Pulling out a cube-shaped stool he said: "When I saw these things I knew there was something to this design."
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