Chen Wen-hui (陳文輝) wasted little time when he was put in jail in 1985 for his pro-independence stance. A voracious reader, he absorbed all he could on Taiwan's flora in hopes of creating a bucolic retreat surrounding a wood-fired kiln built for his wife a year before his arrest.
That retreat eventually became Hwataoyao (華陶窯), a tranquil hillside compound where today the Chen family hosts visitors from all over the island. The family has devoted 16 years to building their dreamland, which started in March 1984 when the kiln was established to make flower pots for Chen's wife, in love with the art of flower arrangement.
Since then, the kiln has produced all styles of vessels for flower arrangements as well as containers of all shapes for rice, water, wine or other utensils for daily use. Chen and his wife want Hwataoyao to be characteristic of the land and show a strong flavor that is unique to the place. Chen grows plants and his wife makes pottery, a perfect combination to showcase the countryside's nature and culture.
I met with Chen Yu-ping (陳育平), their daughter, a while back at an exhibition in Taipei and saw the ceramic art of Hwataoyao. With dark hues, thick bodies, and rugged edges, the ceramic products are characteristic of Hwataoyao's old-style craft, one that distinguishes itself from the lighter colored and thinner-shaped ceramics of other countries.
"It's the Miaoli clay and the acacia tree we grow and fire in the kiln that make up what you see today," said Chen's daughter of the rustic ceramics she brought to Taipei. "We want it to be different, having a distinguished look that can be recognized like a trademark in an international exhibition."
Over the years, the name of Hwataoyao has been established and its pottery is now known all over the country, exhibiting in galleries in Taipei and other parts of the island. Chen's daughter invited me to go down to Yuanli to see Hwataoyao for myself, and I gladly accepted.
I took the one day tour and followed guide Liao Chen-an (廖晨安) and a group of visitors on a walking tour of the large compound. Liao, like many of the tour guides, is a local from central Taiwan and is ardent and enthusiastic about linking our daily experience to the plants along the mountain trail.
The botanical park is situated at the back of Hwataoyao, and occupies about three-fourths of the compound. Liao introduced us to the plants growing in the park. One of the first things we saw was giant alocasia. The huge long leaves of the plant were used in the markets to wrap groceries long before plastic bags were introduced to the country, explained Liao. We also saw sapindus mukorosii, whose juice was the shampoo and soap for personal cleaning for the early immigrants.
As we wound up the mountain trail, we saw a forest of acacia trees, which, when fired with the clay, produce beautiful golden and green ash streaks. The tour ended in a forest of trees with blooming white blossoms of phalaenopsis, or butterfly orchid. Wooden tables and chairs and drinks are offered for visitors to rest and appreciate the orchids.
Around noon, we were brought back to the visitor's information center, where we dined in a large hall with views of the countryside. In the afternoon, we met with two masters of Hwataoyao, Chen Sheng-tang (陳升堂) and Chen Chang-pi (陳常碧), both of whom are senior ceramists of Hwataoyao.
They each demonstrated a different technique. Chen Sheng-tang is a master of "small pottery hand," in which he uses a motorized potter's wheel to make smaller pieces of ceramic works. Chen Chang-pi, on the other hand, is dubbed the master of "large pottery hand," in which he uses his hands only to mold the clay into large pieces of pottery, such as wine pots or rice pots. Visitors get to play with the clay, too, if they wish and anyone may have their creation fired in Hwataoyao's kiln for a small fee.
As I talked to Hwataoyao's owner, Chen, and his son-in-law, Wen-lung, I realized that Hwataoyao was not yet a dream fulfilled. "We want butterflies to come in," said Chen, as he offered me tea in his office. "We are researching plants that would attract butterflies and create a natural scene with butterflies flying around in the sky."
An ideal addition to an already beautiful place.
On a hillside overlooking Taichung are the remains of a village that never was. Half-formed houses abandoned by investors are slowly succumbing to the elements. Empty, save for the occasional explorer. Taiwan is full of these places. Factories, malls, hospitals, amusement parks, breweries, housing — all facing an unplanned but inevitable obsolescence. Urbex, short for urban exploration, is the practice of exploring and often photographing abandoned and derelict buildings. Many urban explorers choose not to disclose the locations of the sites, as a way of preserving the structures and preventing vandalism or looting. For artist and professor at NTNU and Taipei
March 10 to March 16 Although it failed to become popular, March of the Black Cats (烏貓進行曲) was the first Taiwanese record to have “pop song” printed on the label. Released in March 1929 under Eagle Records, a subsidiary of the Japanese-owned Columbia Records, the Hoklo (commonly known as Taiwanese) lyrics followed the traditional seven characters per verse of Taiwanese opera, but the instrumentation was Western, performed by Eagle’s in-house orchestra. The singer was entertainer Chiu-chan (秋蟾). In fact, a cover of a Xiamen folk song by Chiu-chan released around the same time, Plum Widow Missing Her Husband (雪梅思君), enjoyed more
Last week Elbridge Colby, US President Donald Trump’s nominee for under secretary of defense for policy, a key advisory position, said in his Senate confirmation hearing that Taiwan defense spending should be 10 percent of GDP “at least something in that ballpark, really focused on their defense.” He added: “So we need to properly incentivize them.” Much commentary focused on the 10 percent figure, and rightly so. Colby is not wrong in one respect — Taiwan does need to spend more. But the steady escalation in the proportion of GDP from 3 percent to 5 percent to 10 percent that advocates
From insomniacs to party-goers, doting couples, tired paramedics and Johannesburg’s golden youth, The Pantry, a petrol station doubling as a gourmet deli, has become unmissable on the nightlife scene of South Africa’s biggest city. Open 24 hours a day, the establishment which opened three years ago is a haven for revelers looking for a midnight snack to sober up after the bars and nightclubs close at 2am or 5am. “Believe me, we see it all here,” sighs a cashier. Before the curtains open on Johannesburg’s infamous party scene, the evening gets off to a gentle start. On a Friday at around 6pm,
RSS