Located in a lane near Yongkang Park in Taipei, Changyifang’s (彰藝坊) mission is to continue three generations of work with budaixi (布袋戲), or Taiwanese traditional puppet theater, and introduce the art form to a new audience.
The studio was founded by husband-and-wife team Chen I-tzu (陳羿錫) and Chen Tsung-ping (陳宗萍). The two met when Chen I-tzu, whose grandfather and father were puppet performers in Changhua County, was brought in to serve as a consultant on an exhibition called The Beauty of Taiwan Theater (台灣戲劇之美) at a gallery where Chen Tsung-ping worked.
Seeing the small, intricately made budaixi puppets was a revelation, Chen Tsung-ping says. While growing up in Yunlin County she had watched “golden light” (金光) puppet shows, which feature medium-sized puppets, at temple fairs. She was also familiar with puppet television shows like the popular Pili (霹靂) series, but Chen Tsung-ping says she had never seen traditional handmade glove puppets and didn’t even know they were part of Taiwanese culture.
Photo: Catherine Shu, Taipei Times
“I was so surprised and curious. The puppets are so exquisite and lovely to look at, and I wanted to let more Taiwanese people, our people, know about them,” she says.
“In puppetry,” Chen Tsung-ping adds, “you see all these traditional arts, like embroidery, carving and performing, preserved. I studied art and I know if you don’t understand your own traditions, you cannot create new things.”
After marrying, the couple founded Changyifang, named after Changyiyuan (彰藝園), the puppet troupe Chen I-tzu’s father founded in Changhua County more than 80 years ago.
Photo: Catherine Shu, Taipei Times
As soon as visitors walk into Changyifang’s combination studio-storefront, they are greeted with an explosion of colors: The company’s bags and accessories come in a rainbow of bright hues and lively patterns, including Taiwan floral cloth. Puppets are carefully arranged on shelves, with cards in English and Chinese explaining the characters’ backgrounds. Sheng (生) are male puppets of different ages, professions and temperaments, while female characters are called dan (旦). Others represent historical and literary characters, such as figures from The Romance of the Three Kingdoms.
At the time the couple met, Chen I-tzu was serving as a consultant for scholars and groups like the Seden Society (西田社布袋戲基金會), which seeks to preserve traditional puppetry. Chen I-tzu, whose great-grandmother, grandfather and father all worked with budaixi, helped researchers choose the right paint colors for restoring a puppet’s face or made sure that costumes for different characters were assembled properly. His great-grandmother began sewing puppet costumes during the Japanese colonial era to earn extra money, while his paternal grandfather and father both carved puppet heads and performed.
When he first began working with his family “it wasn’t so much that I was interested in puppetry, as it was that we had to make a living,” says Chen I-tzu, who keeps wooden heads carved by his father on display in his studio. When he slips his hand into a budaixi puppet, even for a few minutes to show it off to a visitor, the puppet springs to life. Its tiny hands greet the viewer with delicate gestures while its head angles daintily to the side.
Photo: Catherine Shu, Taipei Times
“When people became interested in preserving traditional puppetry, there was a need for people who are familiar with them because there weren’t a lot of specialists,” he says.
Changyifang’s puppets are handmade in Xiamen in Fujian Province, China, where the couple set up a puppetmaking studio. The two moved operations there soon after they opened Changyifang to keep production costs down and because they say they could not find craftspeople in Taiwan who were able to take on the extremely fine, richly detailed hand embroidery on each costume.
Each puppet takes about two months to finish. A step-by-step display set up in the Changyifang studio shows how the heads are carved, a process that takes a week. First the puppet’s face is shaped from a block of wood, and then the positions of different features are determined. Finally, the minute details that give each puppet its own personality, like hooded eyelids, flaring nostrils or an enigmatic smile, are carefully, gradually added.
Photo: Catherine Shu, Taipei Times
Hands and feet are coated with lacquer in layers until they are opaque and gleaming. Jing (淨) puppets have elaborately painted faces in vivid colors like red, black or blue that represent different character types. Costumes are covered with embroidered motifs and embellishments sewn in gold thread, instead of the sequins used on cheaper puppets. Many of Changyifang’s budaixi puppets are purchased by collectors and can cost up to NT$50,000; most range from NT$15,000 to NT$25,000.
Other puppet types represented at Changyifang include chou (丑), or clowns, and two categories the Chens created for stock characters frequently seen in Taiwanese puppet performances: xian (仙), or wise immortals who often serve as the voice of reason during conflicts, and the odd-looking guai (怪), who often have animal-shaped heads.
Some puppets have outfits made from Taiwan floral cloth, as a nod to puppet troupes that recycled worn curtains or bedding into costumes and stage decorations.
Photo: Catherine Shu, Taipei Times
Others show how budaixi has changed along with Taiwan’s history. One set of puppets wear Japanese military uniforms from the colonial era and are based on the puppets used in plays with anti-Japanese propaganda after the Chinese Nationalist Party took control of Taiwan. Mao Zedong (毛澤東) and Chiang Kai-shek (蔣介石) puppets in solid neon colors were made to appeal to collectors of designer toys and figures. One budaixi puppet in the couple’s collection was created for a short-lived puppet version of the cartoon Samurai Jack.
While most of their time is spent designing puppets and operating the studio, the Chens still occasionally put on puppet performances when the opportunity arises, including events organized by the Council for Cultural Affairs (文建會) or temple fairs. While most of the people who purchase Changyifang’s puppets are collectors, Chen Tsung-ping hopes the tradition will survive and continue to evolve with each new generation.
“You can make anything into a puppet,” she says. “It is a medium and you use your hands to bring the puppet to life, but there is no limit to what you can perform.”
Photo: Catherine Shu, Taipei Times
Photo: Catherine Shu, Taipei Times
Photo: Catherine Shu, Taipei Times
In late October of 1873 the government of Japan decided against sending a military expedition to Korea to force that nation to open trade relations. Across the government supporters of the expedition resigned immediately. The spectacle of revolt by disaffected samurai began to loom over Japanese politics. In January of 1874 disaffected samurai attacked a senior minister in Tokyo. A month later, a group of pro-Korea expedition and anti-foreign elements from Saga prefecture in Kyushu revolted, driven in part by high food prices stemming from poor harvests. Their leader, according to Edward Drea’s classic Japan’s Imperial Army, was a samurai
The following three paragraphs are just some of what the local Chinese-language press is reporting on breathlessly and following every twist and turn with the eagerness of a soap opera fan. For many English-language readers, it probably comes across as incomprehensibly opaque, so bear with me briefly dear reader: To the surprise of many, former pop singer and Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) ex-lawmaker Yu Tien (余天) of the Taiwan Normal Country Promotion Association (TNCPA) at the last minute dropped out of the running for committee chair of the DPP’s New Taipei City chapter, paving the way for DPP legislator Su
It’s hard to know where to begin with Mark Tovell’s Taiwan: Roads Above the Clouds. Having published a travelogue myself, as well as having contributed to several guidebooks, at first glance Tovell’s book appears to inhabit a middle ground — the kind of hard-to-sell nowheresville publishers detest. Leaf through the pages and you’ll find them suffuse with the purple prose best associated with travel literature: “When the sun is low on a warm, clear morning, and with the heat already rising, we stand at the riverside bike path leading south from Sanxia’s old cobble streets.” Hardly the stuff of your
Located down a sideroad in old Wanhua District (萬華區), Waley Art (水谷藝術) has an established reputation for curating some of the more provocative indie art exhibitions in Taipei. And this month is no exception. Beyond the innocuous facade of a shophouse, the full three stories of the gallery space (including the basement) have been taken over by photographs, installation videos and abstract images courtesy of two creatives who hail from the opposite ends of the earth, Taiwan’s Hsu Yi-ting (許懿婷) and Germany’s Benjamin Janzen. “In 2019, I had an art residency in Europe,” Hsu says. “I met Benjamin in the lobby