It has taken almost half a decade, but the area in Taipei now known as Huashan 1914 Creative Park appears to be well on its way to being the crucible for the performing, creative and experimental arts that so many have long envisioned.
It is not quite there yet, and it may be more commercial and regimented than some artists like, but the park has obviously struck the right tone with Taipei residents and tourists, as a visit on almost any weekend, and even some weeknights, will attest.
The site started life as the Taipei Winery in 1916. Ownership then passed to the Taiwan Tobacco and Wine Monopoly Bureau after the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) took over Taiwan. In 1987, the winery relocated and its buildings sat boarded up and deserted for a decade as developers salivated over the property and the central government debated what to do, having originally earmarked the site for a new Legislative Yuan.
Who knows how long the buildings would have sat derelict — or if they would have survived — if the Golden Bough Theatre had not staged an intervention of sorts by taking over one of the buildings to stage the play Trojans amid demands that the government allow idle buildings and sites to be used for cultural activities. The police broke up the show and the government accused the group of illegally appropriating state property, but the stage was set for change.
Two years of protests, lobbying and petitions, led by artist Tang Huang-chen (湯皇珍) and others who squatted at the site, followed before the government decided to turn the former winery over to the Council for Cultural Affairs to administer.
Management of the area, now renamed the Huashan Arts District, was given to Tang and other artists, who formed the Association of Cultural and Environmental Reform in Taiwan (ACERT), which ran it for the next five years. Changes at the top of the council led to changes in the vision for the park, which officialdom avowed had nothing to do with the politically driven scandal that erupted over an outdoor drumming circle in June 2002 that created media hysteria and headlines that Huashan had become a haven for substance abuse and demands the site be closed down and redeveloped.
Not everyone was convinced by the denials and there definitely was a difference between the artistic visionaries — who preferred to focus on experimental and avant-garde works — and bureaucratic ambitions about the district’s direction. When the management contract was put up for bidding in late 2003, ACERT did not participate and L’Orangerie International Art Consultants won a one-year contract.
In 2005, Huashan was shuttered by the council for a multibillion New Taiwan dollar renovation and did not reopen again until mid-2007, under the name Huashan Culture Park and the management of the Taiwan Cultural-Creative Development Co, which had been given a 15-year deal.
While debate continues about who should be in the park and what types of events should be held there, a happy compromise appears to have been found since then between commercial ventures — an art gallery, yoga clothing store, restaurants and live concert venue — and small trade shows and exhibitions, such the Taiwan Designers Week, as well as the less commercial, with performance and rehearsal spaces given over to small and mid-sized dance and theater troupes and musicians. Weekends also find a thriving flea market for young designers and entrepreneurs.
The mix is fluid, sometimes even chaotic, but that is the charm and attraction of Huashan as visitors can continue to be surprised by what they find there. Taiwan Cultural-Creative Development Co should recognize that fluidity can be a good thing and not tinker too much with the balance between commercial and creative space as it continues to renovate and upgrade the park’s facilities.
In their recent op-ed “Trump Should Rein In Taiwan” in Foreign Policy magazine, Christopher Chivvis and Stephen Wertheim argued that the US should pressure President William Lai (賴清德) to “tone it down” to de-escalate tensions in the Taiwan Strait — as if Taiwan’s words are more of a threat to peace than Beijing’s actions. It is an old argument dressed up in new concern: that Washington must rein in Taipei to avoid war. However, this narrative gets it backward. Taiwan is not the problem; China is. Calls for a so-called “grand bargain” with Beijing — where the US pressures Taiwan into concessions
The term “assassin’s mace” originates from Chinese folklore, describing a concealed weapon used by a weaker hero to defeat a stronger adversary with an unexpected strike. In more general military parlance, the concept refers to an asymmetric capability that targets a critical vulnerability of an adversary. China has found its modern equivalent of the assassin’s mace with its high-altitude electromagnetic pulse (HEMP) weapons, which are nuclear warheads detonated at a high altitude, emitting intense electromagnetic radiation capable of disabling and destroying electronics. An assassin’s mace weapon possesses two essential characteristics: strategic surprise and the ability to neutralize a core dependency.
Chinese President and Chinese Communist Party (CCP) Chairman Xi Jinping (習近平) said in a politburo speech late last month that his party must protect the “bottom line” to prevent systemic threats. The tone of his address was grave, revealing deep anxieties about China’s current state of affairs. Essentially, what he worries most about is systemic threats to China’s normal development as a country. The US-China trade war has turned white hot: China’s export orders have plummeted, Chinese firms and enterprises are shutting up shop, and local debt risks are mounting daily, causing China’s economy to flag externally and hemorrhage internally. China’s
During the “426 rally” organized by the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) and the Taiwan People’s Party under the slogan “fight green communism, resist dictatorship,” leaders from the two opposition parties framed it as a battle against an allegedly authoritarian administration led by President William Lai (賴清德). While criticism of the government can be a healthy expression of a vibrant, pluralistic society, and protests are quite common in Taiwan, the discourse of the 426 rally nonetheless betrayed troubling signs of collective amnesia. Specifically, the KMT, which imposed 38 years of martial law in Taiwan from 1949 to 1987, has never fully faced its