If you expect architecture biennales to be filled with lots of boring wall texts and models, think again. The Taiwan Pavilion (housed in the prison near the famous Bridge of Sighs) at this year’s Venice Biennale, curated by Roan Ching-yueh (阮慶岳), the assembled installations show that the world of architecture is rapidly changing with people realizing we must tend to our small gardens rather than impose heroic monoliths in city centers. So instead of showing grandiose architectural schemes, Roan gathered a variety of voices that show the strength of small-scale, humanizing architecture in Taiwan.
Upon entering the Taiwan Pavilion, one encounters You Yuan (遊園), a beautiful simulation of a Chinese rock garden whose ground consists of glittery pieces of crushed glass and large stones made from recycled glass. A swing set in the corner transforms this interior prison space into a meditative garden that is entirely created from urban waste.
This installation by Helsinki-based Marco Casagrande who had taught at Tamkang University stirred some local controversy. Newspapers such as the Minsheng Daily had a field day in criticizing the choice of non-Taiwanese (ie. foreigners) to display their work in the coveted main exhibition room while Taiwanese architects were relegated to smaller rooms. It is to Roan’s credit that he recognizes that architecture in Taiwan is not limited to those with Taiwanese blood coursing through their veins. This strategy paid off as hordes of visitors including European TV crews were fascinated by this exhibition.
PHOTO COURTESY OF ROAN CHING-YUEH
Norway-based 3RW Architects showed several videos titled Urban Farmers that included interviews of people in Taiwan and Norway who are trying to eek out a living as farmers in a rapidly industrializing world.
Huang Sheng-yuan’s (黃聲遠) Field Office, a team of architects, work only 15 minutes driving distance from their office in Ilan, preferring to tend to their own backyard. For their participation in Venice, they set up benches that seem to have been plunked down in a rice paddy, so that viewers can contemplate life in a small town agricultural society.
Socially-minded architect Hsieh Ying-chun (謝英俊) lives and works in Nantou, Taiwan and China. His new project called Sustainable Construction links society with the economy and the environment. As he was in China helping farmers build their own homes, he was discussed his ongoing project with visitors via a video link.
In Timescapes, young Tainan-based architect Liu Kuo-Chang (劉國滄) uses suspended hand-made rocks to convey the sense of drifting in the ocean. If you are not able to make it to Venice, the exhibition will come to Taiwan next year.
Unfortunately politics reared its ugly head in this innocuous gathering of architects. When Roan tried to organize a panel discussion between East Asian architects, the Chinese architects said they were unfortunately unable to set foot in the Taiwan Pavilion, so when he proposed to rent out a hotel room with his own money the Taiwanese organizers threatened to pull the plug on his budget, so the discussion took place without the participation of the Chinese architects.
Politics are definitely not on view at Taipei’s Museum of Contemporary Art. Artists Today@MOCA 2006, the current exhibition of three Taiwanese artists provides a chance to see lighthearted whimsical works that please the eye and tickle the fancies.
Chen Hui-Chiao’s (陳慧嶠) Here and Now tactile installation consists of her signature use of a bed, needles and thread to create a dreamy walk-through set. Twin brothers Chang Geng-hwa and Chang Keng-hau’s Screw it! consists of toys, baby heads in bird cages, and interactive animations. The second floor is reserved for Ku Shih-yung (顧世勇), a versatile artist working in a wide range of media creating works that are guaranteed to put a smile on your face.
If one asks Taiwanese why house prices are so high or why the nation is so built up or why certain policies cannot be carried out, one common answer is that “Taiwan is too small.” This is actually true, though not in the way people think. The National Property Administration (NPA), responsible for tracking and managing the government’s real estate assets, maintains statistics on how much land the government owns. As of the end of last year, land for official use constituted 293,655 hectares, for public use 1,732,513 hectares, for non-public use 216,972 hectares and for state enterprises 34 hectares, yielding
The small platform at Duoliang Train Station in Taitung County’s Taimali Township (太麻里) served villagers from 1992 to 2006, but was eventually shut down due to lack of use. Just 10 years later, the abandoned train station had become widely known as the most beautiful station in Taiwan, and visitors were so frequent that the village had to start restricting traffic. Nowadays, Duoliang Village (多良) is known as a bit of a tourist trap, with a mandatory, albeit modest, admission fee of NT$10 giving access to a crowded lane of vendors with a mediocre view of the ocean and the trains
Traditionally, indigenous people in Taiwan’s mountains practice swidden cultivation, or “slash and burn” agriculture, a practice common in human history. According to a 2016 research article in the International Journal of Environmental Sustainability, among the Atayal people, this began with a search for suitable forested slopeland. The trees are burnt for fertilizer and the land cleared of stones. The stones and wood are then piled up to make fences, while both dead and standing trees are retained on the plot. The fences are used to grow climbing crops like squash and beans. The plot itself supports farming for three years.
President William Lai (賴清德) on Nov. 25 last year announced in a Washington Post op-ed that “my government will introduce a historic US$40 billion supplementary defense budget, an investment that underscores our commitment to defending Taiwan’s democracy.” Lai promised “significant new arms acquisitions from the United States” and to “invest in cutting-edge technologies and expand Taiwan’s defense industrial base,” to “bolster deterrence by inserting greater costs and uncertainties into Beijing’s decision-making on the use of force.” Announcing it in the Washington Post was a strategic gamble, both geopolitically and domestically, with Taiwan’s international credibility at stake. But Lai’s message was exactly