The tiny, Tudor-style Taipei Story House (台北故事館) is often described as resembling a dollhouse, making it an ideal venue to host an exhibition about dolls from the Japanese colonial era to the present day. Story of Dolls, which runs until Jan. 1, may suit school groups and young families well, but the exhibit is not just child’s play. It also seeks to explore the rapid socioeconomic and cultural changes in Taiwan over the last 100 years.
“During the 1960s and 1970s, Taiwan’s economic development began to take off,” says Monica Lee (李宇涵), the show’s curator. “You can observe it through the history of the doll-making industry.”
Each of the seven rooms in the former residence, which was built in 1914 and is a Taipei City heritage site, is dedicated to a theme. The front parlor is stuffed with teddy bears from around the world, while the two other downstairs rooms focus on Barbie dolls and delicate ceramic figures made in Gongguan Township (公館鄉), Miaoli County, during the 1970s and 1980s.
Photo: Catherine Shu, Taipei Times
Upstairs, three rooms showcase dolls that Taiwanese families of different economic backgrounds might have owned.
Dolls made for export were closely linked to the economic well-being of certain areas. In what is now New Taipei City’s Taishan District (泰山), for example, nearly a third of residents were employed by Mattel, which set up its flagship Barbie factory there in 1967. The area suffered when the company relocated its operations in 1987.
Still, Taiwan’s growing prosperity in the 1980s meant that more parents were able to purchase toys that had previously been manufactured solely for export. Lowered custom fees also allowed an increase in the import of Western toys, including Mickey Mouse stuffed animals.
Photo: Catherine Shu, Taipei Times
“You can see by looking at the material and the quality of the dolls and the amount of accessories that they each came with, just how much spending money families began to have as the economy stabilized,” Lee says.
The teddy bear parlor was created with the help of the Taiwan Teddy Bear Association (台灣泰迪熊協會). One case includes iconic toys like Paddington Bear and a Steiff bear with its trademark metal button in one ear, while a giant Harrods doorman bear stands in one corner.
Lee says the teddy bear room was selected as the first room guests see because both girls and boys play with the stuffed toys. Barbie collector Yan Hung-cheng (顏弘政) says the dolls can also stir up memories for adults of both genders.
Photo: Catherine Shu, Taipei Times
The Miaoli-based restaurant owner, who started collecting Barbies a decade ago, loaned more than 40 limited edition dolls from his collection to Taipei Story House, where they are arranged like models walking in a fashion show.
All the dolls, including a wedding couple manufactured in Taishan, wear intricate, elaborate outfits — many hand-sewn with Swarovski crystals.
“I think that Barbies are the dolls that have made the deepest impression on both men and women,” says Yan, who displays his collection of more than 200 dolls at his Miaoli steakhouse, Tian Chu (天廚).
Photo: Catherine Shu, Taipei Times
Japanese-style dolls are displayed in a second-floor sitting room lined with tatami mats. Hand-painted porcelain dolls in traditional wedding outfits were presented as gifts and proudly displayed in the homes of prosperous families as decorative items, not toys. While most of these dolls were imported from Japan, a few were handmade in this country. Limbless kokeshi dolls carved from bamboo rods are displayed next to their wooden Japanese counterparts.
Cases in the hallway display dolls that were influenced by Western culture, including Kewpie dolls based on a character created in 1909 by American illustrator Rose O’Neill, as well as several handmade rag dolls.
“When we researched why most of the dolls Taiwanese children owned had [Caucasian] features, we found that it was partly because a lot of mothers and fathers had picked up their doll-making skills by doing piece work for Western companies,” Lee says.
Photo: Catherine Shu, Taipei Times
Paper dolls popular during the 1970s and 1980s featured brightly colored, manga-like illustrations of girls with large, sparkly eyes and blond curls. The Taipei Story House has taken several of the dolls’ most iconic outfits and accessories, blown them up to human size and displayed them in a boutique-like setting. Visitors of all ages are encouraged to turn themselves into giant paper dolls by holding the outfits up to their bodies and checking out the effect in two full-length mirrors.
The final room in the exhibit, a cozy bedroom with a fireplace and an enamel bed frame, features an extravaganza of more than 150 plush toys and dolls representing popular comic and cartoon characters created over the last century. Mickey Mouse sits near a stuffed Pokemon and Totoro, while a giant Doraemon lords over Snoopy, Garfield, Hello Kitty, Popeye and Winnie the Pooh. Many items were borrowed from their original owners and still bear the marks of heavy play, including a Minnie Mouse with red marker scribbled on her left eye.
“Children go crazy when they see this room. It’s like a playground every day,” Lee says. “With all of our exhibits, we want people to relate them to their everyday lives and be able to say, ‘I remember that.’”
Photo: Catherine Shu, Taipei Times
Oct. 27 to Nov. 2 Over a breakfast of soymilk and fried dough costing less than NT$400, seven officials and engineers agreed on a NT$400 million plan — unaware that it would mark the beginning of Taiwan’s semiconductor empire. It was a cold February morning in 1974. Gathered at the unassuming shop were Economics minister Sun Yun-hsuan (孫運璿), director-general of Transportation and Communications Kao Yu-shu (高玉樹), Industrial Technology Research Institute (ITRI) president Wang Chao-chen (王兆振), Telecommunications Laboratories director Kang Pao-huang (康寶煌), Executive Yuan secretary-general Fei Hua (費驊), director-general of Telecommunications Fang Hsien-chi (方賢齊) and Radio Corporation of America (RCA) Laboratories director Pan
The consensus on the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) chair race is that Cheng Li-wun (鄭麗文) ran a populist, ideological back-to-basics campaign and soundly defeated former Taipei mayor Hau Lung-bin (郝龍斌), the candidate backed by the big institutional players. Cheng tapped into a wave of popular enthusiasm within the KMT, while the institutional players’ get-out-the-vote abilities fell flat, suggesting their power has weakened significantly. Yet, a closer look at the race paints a more complicated picture, raising questions about some analysts’ conclusions, including my own. TURNOUT Here is a surprising statistic: Turnout was 130,678, or 39.46 percent of the 331,145 eligible party
The classic warmth of a good old-fashioned izakaya beckons you in, all cozy nooks and dark wood finishes, as tables order a third round and waiters sling tapas-sized bites and assorted — sometimes unidentifiable — skewered meats. But there’s a romantic hush about this Ximending (西門町) hotspot, with cocktails savored, plating elegant and never rushed and daters and diners lit by candlelight and chandelier. Each chair is mismatched and the assorted tables appear to be the fanciest picks from a nearby flea market. A naked sewing mannequin stands in a dimly lit corner, adorned with antique mirrors and draped foliage
The election of Cheng Li-wun (鄭麗文) as chair of the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) marked a triumphant return of pride in the “Chinese” in the party name. Cheng wants Taiwanese to be proud to call themselves Chinese again. The unambiguous winner was a return to the KMT ideology that formed in the early 2000s under then chairman Lien Chan (連戰) and president Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九) put into practice as far as he could, until ultimately thwarted by hundreds of thousands of protestors thronging the streets in what became known as the Sunflower movement in 2014. Cheng is an unambiguous Chinese ethnonationalist,
RSS