Until the early 1980s, Taiwanese songs that criticized the government were blacklisted. A thick, black-ink marker was used to cover up the song title and the producer was fined. Case closed.
Fortunately, one such record entitled Unchanging Love (
PHOTO: CHRIS FUCHS, TAIPEI TIMES
The exhibition, The Song, Taipei and Me, is contained within one room on the second floor of Taipei City Hall. Although rich in explanations about the development of popular music in Taiwan, the exhibit's content is somewhat difficult to grasp, unless of course you either grew up here or are an expert in the subject.
The Song, Taipei and Me is arranged chronologically, first grounding Taiwan's musical history in the folk songs sung by Aborigines, Hakkas and Minnan people. It wasn't until 1932, however, that Taiwan made its mark on the pop music map, when a Taiwanese song was used in a slient movie filmed in Shanghai titled Sobbing Peach Blossoms, said Yang Mei-Jen, a spokeswoman for the center.
Before 1945, during Japanese rule, the content of music was strictly controlled. The use of Chinese characters was forbidden and it was required that Japanese song melodies be used together with Taiwanese lyrics.
In fact, it wasn't until after Japan ceded control of Taiwan in August 1945 and the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) moved to Taipei that Mandarin songs first found their way into Taiwan's music market.
From then on, the island's musical industry blossomed. During the 1940s, for instance, Danshui -- the Ximending of that era -- became a mecca for pop music lovers. For the price of a cheap cup of tea, anyone could lounge on a bamboo bench alongside the Danshui river and listen to Taiwanese songs well into the night.
Interestingly enough, Danshui some 30 years later gave rise to a musical movement called "Campus Songs," after one artist, Li Shuang-ze (
Later, these "Campus Songs," whose lyrics stressed sincerity and inner peace, became popular not only among college students but also among the general public.
The chronology ends with the present state of pop-music in Taiwan, detailing how TV and radio helped popularize music during the 1960s and 1970s. It also briefly cites current musical talents like the LA Boyz, a group composed of three US-born Taiwanese brothers, and Tokyo D, a Japanese singer.
Most of the exhibition props consist of records and record players, relics that are standard fare and not very captivating. There are, however, a number of songs you can listen to, which should help put the different music genres into perspective.
There is also a clip of the movie Sobbing Peach Blossoms that can be viewed while listening to the soundtrack.
On the whole, The Song, Taipei and Me succeeds in proving that Taiwan in general, and Taipei more specifically, has a rich musical history.
Exhibition notes:
What: The Song, Taipei and Me (歌我台北)
Where: Discovery Center of Taipei (台北探索管) 1 Shifu Rd, Taipei (臺北市市府路一號)
When: Now until Oct. 10
Hours: Tuesday to Sunday, 9am to 5pm
Tickets: Free admission
May 11 to May 18 The original Taichung Railway Station was long thought to have been completely razed. Opening on May 15, 1905, the one-story wooden structure soon outgrew its purpose and was replaced in 1917 by a grandiose, Western-style station. During construction on the third-generation station in 2017, workers discovered the service pit for the original station’s locomotive depot. A year later, a small wooden building on site was determined by historians to be the first stationmaster’s office, built around 1908. With these findings, the Taichung Railway Station Cultural Park now boasts that it has
The latest Formosa poll released at the end of last month shows confidence in President William Lai (賴清德) plunged 8.1 percent, while satisfaction with the Lai administration fared worse with a drop of 8.5 percent. Those lacking confidence in Lai jumped by 6 percent and dissatisfaction in his administration spiked up 6.7 percent. Confidence in Lai is still strong at 48.6 percent, compared to 43 percent lacking confidence — but this is his worst result overall since he took office. For the first time, dissatisfaction with his administration surpassed satisfaction, 47.3 to 47.1 percent. Though statistically a tie, for most
Wooden houses wedged between concrete, crumbling brick facades with roofs gaping to the sky, and tiled art deco buildings down narrow alleyways: Taichung Central District’s (中區) aging architecture reveals both the allure and reality of the old downtown. From Indigenous settlement to capital under Qing Dynasty rule through to Japanese colonization, Taichung’s Central District holds a long and layered history. The bygone beauty of its streets once earned it the nickname “Little Kyoto.” Since the late eighties, however, the shifting of economic and government centers westward signaled a gradual decline in the area’s evolving fortunes. With the regeneration of the once
In February of this year the Taipei Times reported on the visit of Lienchiang County Commissioner Wang Chung-ming (王忠銘) of the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) and a delegation to a lantern festival in Fuzhou’s Mawei District in Fujian Province. “Today, Mawei and Matsu jointly marked the lantern festival,” Wang was quoted as saying, adding that both sides “being of one people,” is a cause for joy. Wang was passing around a common claim of officials of the People’s Republic of China (PRC) and the PRC’s allies and supporters in Taiwan — KMT and the Taiwan People’s Party — and elsewhere: Taiwan and