Temples

Chiayi Shinto Shrine (嘉義神社)

I’ve been saying for quite a long time now that I need to spend more time in Chiayi. I’ve always had a special place in my heart for the city, which, like Tainan to the south, displays a tremendous amount of history on its streets.

For a long time, Chiayi had become run-down, and its youth were leaving for larger cities and better opportunities elsewhere. In recent years, however, all of that has changed, and Chiayi has become a hipsters paradise, its young people have returned, and they’ve brought with them genius ideas for coffee shops, restaurants, cocktail bars, etc.

The local government, to its credit, has been quick to offer a helping hand in fostering this youth takeover of the city, converting historic buildings into art museums and music venues, and opening a number of culture parks dedicated to both celebrating the history of the city, and its future at the same time. With all of the art exhibits, music festivals, restaurants and cafes, it has become considerably more difficult to make excuses for not visiting the city, especially since there are a large number of destinations that are on my list to take photos of and write about.

So, one weekend, in order to escape the rain in the north of Taiwan, I hopped on a train and made my way down south for a trip that helped reintroduce me to a city that I’ve loved for quite a while. This time, however, instead of spending all of my time taking photos, I kept my list of destinations short, and instead decided to enjoy some of the great coffee shops that have become really popular as of late, in addition to a hip new ramen shop.

Still, I had a couple of places on my list that were must visits, and the first of which was Chiayi Park, where the ruins of the historic Chiayi Shinto Shrine are located. In its heyday, the shrine was regarded as one of the most important in Taiwan, and even though only bits and pieces of it remain, what you can still see there today is arguably more complete then the vast majority of other shrine ruins that you’ll encounter in your travels across Taiwan today.

Sadly, like most of the other Japanese-era sites that I write about, there isn’t much information available in the English language about the shrine that offers visitors much of an idea about its history, or what they’re seeing when they visit. So, as usual, I’m going to be providing readers with an in-depth introduction to the history of the shrine, a timeline of events, and an explanation of each of the pieces that remain on site today.

While I was visiting primarily to check out the ruins of the shrine, for the average visitor, the park where it’s located, shouldn’t be missed as it is not only home to the shrine ruins, but also the popular Sun-Shooting Tower (射日塔), the Chiayi Confucius Temple (嘉義孔廟), the Chiayi Botanical Garden (林業試驗所嘉義樹木園), Kano Baseball Memorial Park (嘉農園區), and is a short walk from other attractions such as the historic Chiayi Prison (嘉義舊監獄), Hinoki Village (檜意森活村), Beimen Station (北門車站) and the Alishan Forest Railway Garage Park (阿里山森林鐵路車庫園區), among a number of other destinations.

There’s a lot to see and do when you’re in Chiayi, and that’s not even including all the amazing restaurants and coffeeshops that you’ll be able to visit when you’re taking a break from sightseeing.

Now that I’ve been reacquainted with the city, I’ll definitely be back soon. I had a lot of fun, and before I knew it, it was time to hop back on a train to head back home. I think if you visit, you’re likely to feel the same. Chiayi’s one of those places in Taiwan that everyone should be making an effort to visit.

Now, let’s talk about the shrine.

Kagi Shrine (嘉義神社 / かぎじんじゃ)

Group photo in front of the First Generation Kagi Shrine

Similar to Tainan to the south, Chiayi is a city that has had a long and storied history. Originally inhabited by the Hoanya (洪雅族) Indigenous People, the arrival of Han Chinese immigrants in southwestern Taiwan in the 16th and 17th centuries was when things in the area really started to change. A port was constructed in (modern-day) Beigang (北港), and even though living conditions in Taiwan at the time would have been tremendously difficult, boats from Fujian frequently made their way over to drop off newcomers, who would help cultivate the untamed land.

Shortly thereafter, the arrival of Dutch traders created another major change for the area, as the the Dutch doing what they were quite well-known for at the time, quickly sought to colonize Taiwan. Trading posts were set up in various settlements around that island, offering them an opportunity to interact with the indigenous people as well as both the Qing and the Japanese at the same time. Dutch control of Taiwan didn’t last very long, but with their capital in Tainan, it marked the first time in Taiwan’s history when the island was governed from the south.

The First Generation Kagi Shrine shortly after it was completed.

Dutch rule may have been short in terms of Taiwan’s overall history, but the legacy they left behind is something that continues to be felt today. I could spend time talking the ports they set up, the international trade that they started, the success of their missionaries in converting Indigenous Taiwanese, but as this article is about Chiayi, one of the most important things the Dutch did was introduce the domestic turkey to Taiwan. If it weren’t for the Dutch, we wouldn’t be able to enjoy Chiayi’s delicious Turkey Rice (嘉義火雞肉飯)!

Expelled by Koxinga (鄭成功) and his pirate army who then set up their own Kingdom of Tungning (東寧王國) in Tainan, the area would yet again undergo yet another new form of foreign governance, but once again, it wouldn’t last very long as the Qing sailed over with their navy and brought the Kingdom of Tungning to its knees after only a few decades. Qing rule over the island began in 1683, and Chiayi, which was known as “Tsulosan” (諸羅山) at the time was one of the few settlements where the Chinese authorities were able to maintain their loose control over the island.

One of Kagi Shrine's original shrine gates.

That being said, between 1683 and 1895, the Qing were relatively uninterested in governing or developing Taiwan, they sought to prohibit immigration, and a number of rebellions against their rule wore down what little interest they already had. History has shown that for the majority of time that the Qing controlled Taiwan they were mostly uninterested in the island referring to it as a "ball of mud beyond the sea" adding "nothing to the breadth of China" (海外泥丸,不足為中國加廣), and were ultimately unable to expand their land control any further than a few western coastal areas.

When not denigrating Taiwan as a place unfit for human civilization, the Qing had an idiom to describe their rule over Taiwan that went like this: “Every three years an uprising, every five years a rebellion” (三年一反、五年一亂).

Link: Taiwan under Qing rule (Wiki)

Japanese-era postcard of the First Generation Kagi Shrine.

The reason I mention this is that in the aftermath of one of the largest uprisings against Qing rule, the Lin Shuangwen Rebellion (林爽文事件), the inhabitants of Tsulosan fought brilliantly, and were successful in preventing Lin’s rebel militia from taking the town. As a reward for their bravery, the Qianlong Emperor (乾隆帝) bestowed the name “Kagi” (嘉義) upon the town, which is loosely translated as “Excellent Righteousness,” and is a name that has stuck since 1788.

Note: Kagi is the Hokkien Taiwanese pronunciation of the Mandarin “Chiayi,” which is more commonly used today.

Nevertheless, Qing rule remained more or less the same for the next century or so, but control of Taiwan was ceded to the Japanese Empire in 1895, after the Chinese were easily defeated in the First Sino-Japanese War (甲午戰爭). When Japanese forces arrived in Taiwan that same year, they sought to take control over the entire island, and planned a three-phase assault, starting in the north taking Keelung, Taipei and Tamsui. In the second phase they took Hsinchu, Miaoli and Changhua, and then moved toward the south capturing Chiayi, Tainan and Kaohsiung. Taking complete control of Taiwan proved to be an incredibly dangerous undertaking for the Japanese, who not only had to deal with armed resistance, but cholera and malaria as well.

It would end up taking several years for the Japanese to take complete control of Taiwan, and their losses were numerous, however, it was the people of Taiwan who suffered the most, especially with the heavy-handed tactics that the Japanese took to suppress dissent to their rule. That being said, when the dust of war settled, and the island started to develop, living standards on the island in turn started to improve, and the frequency of rebellions decreased.

One of the shrine's administration offices.

In 1906, the Meishan Earthquake (梅山地震), the third deadliest earthquake in Taiwan’s recorded history reduced Chiayi to rubble, and in response, the Japanese government mobilized military and medical personnel to the area to assist in recovery efforts. The earthquake may have devastated the city, but despite all the suffering and destruction it caused, it also created opportunity as the Japanese were able to craft the city into their own, and “Kagi” (嘉義 / かぎ), the Japanese pronunciation of the city, developed at such a high pace that it started to flourish as it never had before. Becoming a major economic center for agriculture, timber and sugar, and Taiwan’s fourth-most populated city, the colonial government placed a considerable amount of attention on the urban development of the city.

With the construction of the Alishan Railway (阿里山林鐵) connecting to the main branch line, Kagi City had become equipped with beautiful civic structures, parks, modern roads, and public works. Living and economic conditions in the city had improved at such a fast rate that the city’s growth became a model of how Japanese rule was considered to be of benefit to the people of Taiwan, and the city became attractive to both Formosans, but also Japanese immigrants as well, who were apprehensive at first to come to Taiwan.

The Main Hall and the Worship Hall of the First Generation Kagi Shrine.

With an influx of Japanese immigration, conducted first by private companies, and then later publicly, the necessity for infrastructure to cater to their needs became more important. Certainly, one of the most important areas in this regard was with the construction of Shinto Shrines, which were important not only for the daily lives of the immigrants who came to Taiwan, but also to assist in the colonial regime’s push to fully assimilate the Formosan people into Japanese society.

Discussions regarding the construction of a Shinto Shrine in Kagi started around 1911 (明治44年), when the first organized meeting of the Kagi Shrine Committee (嘉義神社興建評鑑委員會) was held by influential members of society. Planning for the shrine, however, was expedited with the passing of Emperor Meiji (明治天皇) the next year as commemorations for his death, and the inauguration of a new era were held across Taiwan.

Shortly after, an official application was sent to the Governor General of Taiwan, Sakuma Samata (佐久間左馬太 / さくま さまた) for the establishment of a shrine, which was quickly approved. Thanks to the economic development of the city, and the completion of the Alishan Railway, everything that was required for the construction of a shrine was readily available. Thus, in 1915, famed craftsman Mitsuru Ito (伊藤滿), who had just completed construction on the First Generation Taichung Shrine (第一代臺中神社) was contracted to come to Kagi to construct the shrine. With a budget of 36,000 Yen (an equivalent of about $360,000 USD in modern currency), the shrine was constructed entirely of cypress from Alishan, and its official inauguration ceremony was held on October 28th, 1915 (大正4年).

The Visiting Path of the First Generation Kagi Shrine with stone lanterns and shrine gate.

Just two years after its inauguration, the shrine received an ‘upgrade’ in its official status as a County-Level Shrine (縣社 / けんしゃ) in the pre-war shrine ranking system, and while it would have been considered an honor at the time, it was something that would also change relatively quickly.

Note: The organizational structure of Shinto Shrines prior to the war were based on the ‘State Shinto’ system. In this system there were major Imperial-level shrines (官幣社 / かんぺいしゃ), and National-level shrines (国幣社 / こくへいしゃ), but the vast majority of shrines in both Japan and Taiwan ranked lower on the hierarchy, such as the metropolitan and prefectural shrines, like this one.

County-level shrines, known as ‘ken-sha’ (縣社 / けんしゃ), weren’t very high in the hierarchy, but having that upgrade in status ensured that it received a certain amount of funding from the government.

Link: Modern system of ranked Shinto shrines | 近代社格制度 (Wiki)

Administration Hall of the Kagi Shrine

That being said, as I just mentioned, the shrine’s official status would change within a few short years. In 1920 (大正9年), the Governor General’s Office instituted the ‘Doka Policy’ (同化 / どうか), which would become one of the Japanese-era’s most important administrative restructuring initiatives. This new system, meant to standardize the administrative divisions in Taiwan with those in Japan, was part of a wave of major investment in the governance of Taiwan, where the government in Japan considered Taiwan to be ‘separate’ but ‘equal’ at the same time. Of the original twenty administrative districts in Taiwan, the 1920 policy reduced the number to eight prefectures (州廳), and it was during this period that Chiayi was upgraded into Kagi City (嘉義市 / かぎし), with much of the farmland and coastal area that surrounded the city becoming part of Kagi County (嘉義郡 / かぎぐん), a sub-division of the much larger Tainan Prefecture (臺南州 / たいなんしゅう). As there were only two ‘cities’ within Tainan Prefecture, Kagi City became a lot more important, resulting in a number of major major construction projects in the city, something that was taking place across the island, resulting in some of the largest and most iconic Japanese-era buildings that you’ll see in Taiwan today.

Link: Political divisions of Taiwan (1895–1945)

A wedding held at the Kagi Shrine

With the rapid development of the city and the flourishing economy, the population of Kagi grew exponentially, both with local Taiwanese and Japanese immigrants as well. However, due to the growth of the city, the shrine had become far too small to cater to the needs of its citizens, and by the 1930s, the Japanese had learned the hard way that when it comes to the construction of wooden buildings in Taiwan, termites are your worst enemy. The shrine, beautiful as it was, offered a veritable feast for Taiwan’s infamous white termites, and the damage eventually became irreparable.

In 1937, the Governor of Tainan Prefecture created the ‘Kagi Shrine Fundraising Committee’ (嘉義神社奉贊會), and over the next two years a massive 200,000 Yen (an equivalent of about 2 million USD today) was raised for both the reconstruction and expansion of the shrine. With the purchase of an additional plot of land, construction of the Second Generation Kagi Shrine got underway in 1940, and the project took until 1943 to complete. Constructed in two phases, the original shrine was preserved, but the layout of the completely changed from its original east-west direction to a north-south direction, which provided more space, as well as allowing for an entrance that was more convenient for visitors.

The first phase of the construction project was the upper part of the shrine, and was completed in 1942, with a ceremony held for the relocation of the kami from the original shrine to their new home. The second phase was the lower section of the shrine, which included the beautiful Shrine Office and the Priest’s Hall, both of which remain standing today.

The Visiting Path of the First Generation Kagi Shrine

Shortly after the Second Generation Shrine opened, it’s status was once again upgraded, but this time, instead of being classified as a minor shrine, it become one of only three shrines in Taiwan to receive the Minor National Level Shrine (國幣小社 / こくへいしょうしゃ) rank, which goes to show just how important both the shrine and the city had become.

Nevertheless, with the shrine completed in 1943, its time as a Shinto Shrine was short, given that the Second World War came to an end in 1945. The Japanese were forced to surrender control of Taiwan under the terms of their surrender and with the Republic of China taking control of Taiwan, the shrine, like many of Taiwan’s other major Shinto Shrines was converted into a war memorial, known locally as a ‘Martyrs Shrine’ (忠烈祠). Similarly, Kagi Park was renamed Zhongshan Park (中山公園) in honor of the founding father of the ROC, Sun Yat Sen (孫中山).

The Shrine Office and the Priests Hall were later converted into a Military Hospital, and a Confucius Temple (嘉義孔廟) was also constructed nearby. The layout of the shrine, however, more or less remained the same until fire sadly burnt down the Main Hall and the Worship Hall in 1995.

The Sun-Shooting Tower at the end of the Visiting Path where the shrine once stood.

In the aftermath of the fire, the Chiayi City Government constructed a large tower for tourists, and a new Martyrs Shrine was constructed in its basement. The remaining sections of the original Shinto Shrine were later recognized as Chiayi City Municipal Monuments (嘉義市市定古蹟), and were preserved as part of a heritage park that would celebrate the history of the shrine, and the city.

Today, Chiayi Park is a great place to visit as it not only celebrates the history of its former Shinto Shrine, but a visit also provides tourists with the opportunity to enjoy a number of different experiences, making it an important stop if you’re in town.

Below, I’ll introduce the differences between the first and second generation shrines, and then I’ll move onto a detailed timeline to help readers better understand what was once part of the shrine:

First Generation Kagi Shrine (第一代の嘉義神社) 1915-1940

The First Generation Shrine. If you look closely you can see the stone guardians on either side of the shrine gates.

The First Generation Shrine, completed in 1915, with cypress brought directly from Alishan (阿里山) for its construction. While a lot more modest than the Second Generation Shrine, from the historic photos I’m sharing here today, it’s easy to see that it was absolutely beautiful.

The First Generation Shrine consisted of the following sections:

  1. Visiting Path (參道 / さんどう) - including a stone pathway, an information board (揭示場), shrine gates (鳥居 / とりい), stone lanterns (燈籠 / とうろう) lining both sides of the path, and komainu (狛犬 / こまいぬ) lion-dogs next to the entrance to the shrine.

  2. Purification Fountain (手水舍 / ちょうずしゃ) - Likely located just outside of the sacred section of the shrine.

  3. Administration Office (社務所 / しゃむしょ) - Likely located along the Visiting Path, opposite the Purification Fountain.

  4. Offertory Hall (幣殿 / へいでん) - the space where worshipers could approach the shrine to pray or make offerings.

  5. Hall of Worship (拜殿 / はいでん) - the worship space where ceremonies were held.

  6. Main Hall (本殿 / ほんでん) - the home of the shrine’s kami.

  7. Shrine Fence (玉垣 / たまがき) - a tall wooden fence that surrounds the sacred area of the shrine, preventing people from wandering into a space where they shouldn’t be.

Second Generation Kagi Shrine (第二代の嘉義神社) 1942-1995

The far more expansive Second Generation Kagi Shrine.

The Second Generation Kagi Shrine, completed between 1940-1943 was a major upgrade, and completely changed the layout of the shrine space. With the purchase of additional land, the First Generation Shrine, which was measured at 28,460㎡ (8609坪) expanded to 33306㎡ (10,075坪), which allowed for not only a change in layout, but also included a number of additional buildings, and a much larger shrine than the original.

The Second Generation Shrine consisted of the following sections:

  1. Visiting Path (參道 / さんどう) - Including a stone pathway, a stone ‘shimebashira’ (標柱 / しめばしら) pillar at the entrance that indicated the name of the shrine, three shrine gates (鳥居 / とりい), several sets of large stone lanterns (大燈籠) and several sets medium sized lanterns (中燈籠) lining both sides of the path, and komainu (狛犬 / こまいぬ) lion-dogs.

  2. Administration Office (社務所 / しゃむしょ) - located along the right side of the Visiting Path prior to passing through the second shrine gate.

  3. Priest’s Hall (齋館 / さいかん) - located directly next door to the Administration Office.

  4. Purification Fountain (手水舍 / ちょうずしゃ) - located on the opposing side of the Visiting Path from the Administration Office and Priest’s Hall.

  5. Resting Pavilion (參集所) - located next to the Purification Fountain, it was a space for people to relax and get some shade from the sun.

  6. Ritual Storage Building (祭器庫 / さいきくら) - just beyond the second shrine gate on the right of the Visiting Path, a building used to store equipment used for special occasions.

  7. Offertory Hall (幣殿 / へいでん) - the space where worshipers could approach the shrine to pray or make offerings.

  8. Hall of Worship (拜殿 / はいでん) - the worship space where ceremonies were held.

  9. Main Hall (本殿 / ほんでん) - the home of the shrine’s kami.

  10. Shrine Fence (玉垣 / たまがき) - a tall wooden fence that surrounded the sacred area of the shrine, preventing people from wandering into a space where they shouldn’t be.

  11. Priests Residences (神職宿舍) - Residences constructed especially for the shrine staff who lived on-site.

Kami Enshrined at the Kagi Shrine

As mentioned earlier, Kagi City at the time was a bustling economic port for both the sugar and timber industries, so the city developed quite quickly compared to many other areas in central-southern Taiwan. The kami who were chosen to take up residence within the shrine were a reflection of the importance of the city’s industrial output, but also included someone who became regarded as a ‘patron-saint’ in Taiwan, and of course, one of Shintoism’s most important figures, the goddess of the sun, the queen of heaven and creation.

Prince Kitashirakawa Yoshihisa (北白川宮能久親王)

Prince Kitashirakawa Yoshihisa, a western-educated Major-General in the Japanese imperial army was commissioned to participate in the invasion of Taiwan after the island was ceded to the empire. Unfortunately for the Prince, he contracted malaria and died in (either) modern day Hsinchu or Tainan (where he died is disputed). This made him the first member of the Japanese royal family to pass away outside of Japan in more than nine hundred years.

Shortly after his death, he was elevated to the status of a ‘kami’ under State Shinto with the official name “Kitashirakawa no Miya Yoshihisa-shinno no Mikoto.“ Enshrined at the Yasukuni Shrine (靖國神社) in Tokyo, he subsequently became one of the most important patron deities here in Taiwan with his worship somewhat unique to the island. The Prince was enshrined at the Taiwan Grand Shrine (臺灣神社) in Taipei, and almost every other major shrine on the island.

The Three Deities of Cultivation (かいたくさんじん / 開拓三神)

The Three Deities of Cultivation, consist of three figures known for their skills with regard to nation-building, agriculture, business, medicine and weather. Commonly appearing as tutelar deities in many of Japan’s Shinto Shrines, they were especially important here in Taiwan due to what they represented, which included aspects of nation-building, agriculture, medicine and the weather. Sharing characteristics with one of Taiwan’s most important deities, the ‘Earth God’ (福德正神 / 土地公), their worship would have been considered somewhat of a simple introduction to the new state religion, but given Taiwan’s position as a new addition to the Japanese empire, ‘nation-building’ and the association of a Japanese-style way of life was something that was (forcibly) pushed on the local people in more ways than one.

The Three Deities of Cultivation are as follows:

  1. Okunitama no Mikoto (大國魂大神 / おおくにたまのかみ) - the kami of the nation-state and the ‘spirit of the country’

  2. Onamuchi no Mikoto (大名牟遲大神 / おおなむちのかみ) - kami of nation-building, agriculture, medicine, and protective magic

  3. Sukunabikona no Mikoto (少彥名大神 / すくなひこなのかみ) - the kami hot springs, agriculture, healing, magic, brewing sake and knowledge

Amaterasu (天照大神)

One of the children of the god and goddess of creation, Izanami (伊邪那美命) and Izanagi (伊邪那岐神), Amaterasu is one Shintoism’s most important deities. Known formally as Amaterasu-Ōmikami (天照大御神 / あまてらすおおみかみ), she is regarded as the goddess of the sun and the universe, and is considered to be the mythical ancestor of the Imperial House of Japan. Enshrined at the Ise Grand Shrine (伊勢神宮) in Mie Prefecture (三重縣), worship of the goddess is often directly linked to worship of “Japan” itself, known as “Japanese Spirit”, or Yamato-damashii (大和魂).

This is something that became problematic during the period when State Shintoism was one of the tools used to fuel the militarism. Even though worship of Amaterasu far predates the insanity that led Japan on military adventures throughout Asia in the 19th and 20th Centuries, her perceived relationship with Japan’s militarism is just one of the reasons why the Chinese Nationalists were so keen on destroying Taiwan’s shrines when they took control of Taiwan after the Second World War.

Note: When the Second Generation Kagi Shrine was completed, the original space that was used for the Main Hall was converted into an Auxiliary Shrine, known in Japan as a ‘setsumatsusha’ (攝末社 / せつまつしゃ), a conjunction of ‘sessha’ (攝社 / せっしゃ) and ‘massha’ (末社 / まっしゃ), referring to the ‘mini’ shrines you’ll often find within a larger shrine. The addition of an Auxiliary Shrine made space for the worship of some other important deities who took up residence in the building after the kami mentioned above were relocated to their new home in the newly constructed Main Hall.

  • Ukanomitama-no-Kami (倉稻魂命 / うかのみたまのかみ), more commonly known as “Inari” (稲荷大神), one of modern day Japan’s most popular deities. Inari is responsible for performing a number of roles, but is most commonly known as the guardian of foxes, and the kami of fertility, rice, tea, agriculture, industry, and prosperity. Playing a similar role to the Chinese God of Wealth (財神), people most often visit Inari Shrines to pray for success in business

  • Oomiyanome-no-Kami (大宮賣神 / おおみやのめのかみ) - the kami of business prosperity, a female deity that often appears alongside Inari. While known for abilities similar to those of Inari, Oomiyanome is also known for her skills with regard to the protection of shrines, so she is often an important addition to a shrine in the same way that dragons adorn the roofs of temples here in Taiwan.

  • Sarutahiko Okami (猿田彦大神 / さる-たひこ) - regarded as one of the ‘Great Deities’ (大神) of Shintoism, ‘Sarutahiko Okami’, is the leader of the kunitsukami (国つ神), or the ‘gods of the earth’.

Kagi Shrine Timeline

While I’ve covered quite a few of the events that led up to the construction of the original shrine, the second generation shrine, and what happened after the Japanese-era, there are a number of other important events that weren’t mentioned, so I’ve put together a timeline of events below for anyone interested in a more in-depth look at the shrine’s history, click the drop-down box below.

    • (明治28年) - The Japanese take control of Taiwan.

    • 1906 (明治39年) - On March 17th, the Great Kagi Earthquake (嘉義大地震), with an epicenter in Meishan (梅山) leveled much of what had been constructed in the area.

    • 1907 (明治40年) - Construction of the Alishan Railway (阿里山林鐵) commences.

    • 1910 (明治43年) - Kagi Park (嘉義公園 / かぎこうえん) is officially established.

    • 1911 (明治44年) - The first session of the Kagi Shrine Committee (嘉義神社興建評鑑委員會) was held at the Kagi Club (嘉義俱樂部) in order to start planning for the construction of a shrine in the town.

    • 1912 (大正1年) - Emperor Meiji passes away on July 30th, and events are held in Kagi (and across Taiwan) to commemorate his passing. Shortly after in November, an official application is sent to Governor General of Taiwan, Sakuma Samata (佐久間左馬太 / さくま さまた) for the establishment of a shrine, which was quickly approved.

    • 1913 (大正2年) - Fundraising events for the construction of the shrine officially get underway. The completion of the Alishan Railway assisted with both fundraising, and the future construction of the shrine with raw materials from the mountain.

    • 1915 (大正4年) - Construction on the shrine starts on May 1st with the project overseen by famed Nagoya craftsman, Mitsuru Ito (伊藤滿), who had also helped design and construct some of Taiwan’s other major shrines. The shrine was completed on October 20th, and the official opening ceremony was held a week later. In total, 36,000 Yen were spent on its construction, an equivalent of about 54 million yen ($360,000 USD) in modern day currency.

    • 1917 (大正6年) - The Kagi Shrine is officially recognized as a County-Level Shrine (縣社), an upgrade in its status.

    • 1920 (大正9年) - The Japanese government institutes the ‘Doka policy’ (同化 / どーか), which standardizes Taiwan’s political divisions with the system used in the rest of the country. From then on, Kagi City (嘉義街 /かぎかい) is put under the administrative authority of Tainan Prefecture’s (臺南州 /たいなんしゅう) Kagi County (嘉義郡/かぎぐん).

    • 1936 (昭和11年) - The Colonial Government’s “Japanization” or ‘forced assimilation’ Kominka (皇民化運動) policy comes into effect in Taiwan.

    • 1937 (昭和12年) - Due to the growth of Kagi and the increase in the number of visitors to the shrine, as well as the problem of termite infestations wreaking havoc on the shrine, the Governor of Tainan Prefecture creates the ‘Kagi Shrine Fund Raising Committee’ (嘉義神社奉贊會) in order to reconstruct and expand the shrine.

    • 1940 (昭和15年) - Over 200,000 Yen (20萬圓) is raised for the reconstruction of the shrine, and plans are officially approved by the Tainan Prefectural Government with construction immediately started.

    • 1942 (昭和17年) - Construction of the Second Generation Kagi Shrine is undertaken in two phases with the construction of the upper shrine completed first. The inauguration of the shrine was held shortly after on June 13th.

    • 1943 (昭和18年) - In the second stage of construction, the lower section of the shrine, which included the Shrine Office (社務所 / しゃむしょ) and Priest’s Hall (齋館 / さいかん), was completed on August 9th.

    • 1944 (昭和19年) - Kagi Shrine is upgraded into a Minor National Level Shrine (國幣小社 / こくへいしょうしゃ), one of only three shrines in Taiwan to achieve such a rank in the pre-war shrine ranking hierarchy.

    • 1945 (昭和20年) - The Second World War comes to a conclusion and Japan is forced to surrender control of Taiwan. Shortly thereafter, Chiayi Park is renamed “Zhongshan Park” (中山公園).

    • 1949 (民國38年) - Chiang Kai-Shek (蔣介石) and the Republic of China government retreat to Taiwan, bringing with them several million refugees displaced by the Chinese Civil War. Kagi Shrine is converted in the Chiayi Martyrs Shrine (嘉義忠烈祠), and the lower offices are converted into a Military Hospital (八二八醫院).

    • 1987 (民國76年) - The Military Hospital hands over ownership of the Shrine Office and Priest’s Hall Buildings to the Chiayi City Government. However, due to wear and tear, the buildings are in desperate need of restoration. The Department of Architectural Design of the National Cheng-Kung University (成功大學) in Tainan is contracted to come up with plans for the faithful restoration of the buildings.

    • 1992 (民國81年) - The charitable division of the Cathay Life Insurance Company donates NT$5 million for the restoration of the buildings.

    • 1993 (民國82年) - The Chiayi City Historical Relics Museum (嘉義市史蹟資料館) is officially established.

    • 1995 (民國84年) - Fire destroys the Main Hall of the shrine, which had been converted into the Chiayi Martyrs Shrine (嘉義忠烈祠). Later that year, plans are made to construct a tower on the site of the original shrine to help attract tourists to the city.

    • 1996 (民國85年) - With funds contributed from private enterprises, government subsidies and from the Chiayi City Government, restoration of the remnants of Kagi Shrine officially start. Later that year, Zhongshan Park is officially renamed Chiayi Park (嘉義公園), reflecting its history.

    • 1997 (民國87年) - While the tower was still undergoing construction, the Second Generation Chiayi Martyrs Shrine was officially opened in the basement of the tower.

    • 1998 (民國88年) - The Chiayi Tower, otherwise known as the “Sun-Shooting Tower” (射日塔) on the grounds of where the Main Hall of the shrine once stood is completed and opened to the public. The remnants of Kagi Shrine are officially listed as Chiayi City Municipal Monuments (嘉義市市定古蹟) in order to ensure that funding is available for their upkeep and protection.

    • 2001 (民國91年) - Restoration on the Shrine’s Main Office and the Purification Hall is completed and are opened to the public as the Chiayi City Historical Relics Museum (嘉義市史蹟資料館) takes up residence within the two buildings.

Remaining Sections of the Shrine

What remains of the First Generation Shrine's Hall of Worship.

In this section, I’m going to take some time to introduce the sections of the shrine that remain today, and as usual, aspects of their architectural design. Certainly, while what’ll you encounter in Chiayi Park today is not nearly as complete as the Taoyuan Shrine (桃園神社), but the elements that do remain are quite well-preserved, and even though much has changed, the layout of the shrine has essentially remained the same for the past eight decades.

Not every aspect of the shrine requires an in-depth introduction, so I’ll probably spend the most time on the two largest buildings that remain on-site as they’ve been expertly restored, and if you’re in the area, you should definitely take some time to visit. When it comes to the restoration of the shrine, most of the attention has been given to the administrative buildings that were part of the shrine, which today make up the Showa 18 Relic Museum (嘉義市史蹟資料館), which I’ll also introduce below.

If you visit today, you’ll find several smaller aspects of the shrine that have been preserved and are put on display in addition to offering some pretty interesting information about the history of Chiayi.

Visiting Path (參道 / さんどう)

One of the most complete remnants of the historic shrine is its ‘Visiting Path’, which may not seem like a lot, given that most would just consider it a pathway from the entrance that led to where the shrine once stood, but the fact that it hasn’t been altered over the years is relatively amazing.

At a Shinto Shrine, a 'Visiting Path,’ known in Japanese as the “sando” (參道 / さんどう) is an integral part of the layout of any shrine, and, well yeah, is essentially just a pathway that leads visitors to the shrine. While these paths serve a functional purpose, they are also quite symbolic in that the ‘path’ is also the route you take on the road to spiritual purification. If you weren’t already aware, ’Shinto’ is literally translated as the “Pathway to the Gods” (神道), so having a physical pathway leading the worshiper from the realm of the profane to that of the sacred is quite important. 

The average length of a shrine’s Visiting Path’s tends to vary based on the size of the shrine, but what always remains true is that you’ll find stone lanterns (石燈籠 / しゃむしょ), shrine gates (鳥居 / とりい) and stone guardians (狛犬 / こまいぬ) along the path.

As mentioned above, the shrine was originally home to three shrine gates, one cement, and two constructed of wood, each of which constructed in the Myojin-style (明神鳥居), one of the most common styles of shrine gate currently used in Japan today. In this particular style of design, there are double lintels with the top curving upwards. Between each, it’s likely that there would have been a plaque that had the name of the shrine inscribed horizontally. Today, none of the original shrine gates are left standing along the Visiting Path, but a Chinese-style cement ‘Pailou Gate’ (牌樓) has been constructed for the Martyrs Shrine, and even though its completely different, its still quite nice.

The next common feature of a Visiting Path are the stone lanterns that are lined symmetrically along both sides. One again, its quite amazing that there are so many of the original lanterns remain standing in their original location, and what’s even more amazing is that the date of their donation, which is always inscribed horizontally along the base, remains clear.

The reason I find this amazing is that in most cases, the stone lanterns that remain from Taiwan’s Shinto Shrines have all had their dates scratched out or vandalized. In this case, however, it looks like they were never touched, and not only do they feature the dates, but also the individuals or the organizations who originally donated them. One of the interesting things about the lanterns in this case is that most of them date back to the Taisho Era (大正), which means that they were part of the First Generation Shrine.

Finally, one of the other more notable aspects of a Visiting Path are the stone guardians that are placed along the path to symbolically guard the shrine. Known in Japan as ‘komainu’ (狛犬/こまいぬ), these stone guardians are part of a tradition thought to have been passed on to Japan from Korea, which is why they’re also often referred to as “Korean Dogs” (高麗犬), referring to the ancient Korean Kingdom of “Koguryo” (高麗國).

Although there can be exceptions to the rule, the lion-dogs generally appear as a pair and are placed on either side of a Visiting Path or at the entrance to a shrine. Often appearing as a male and female, they are only distinguishable only by their facial expressions, with the male “a-gyo” (阿型) having an open mouth and the female “un-gyo” (吽形) having a closed mouth. The male komainu in the traditional set has its mouth open with a stone ball between its teeth while the other set looks as if he’s smiling awkwardly with its mouth open.

Link: Komainu Lion Dogs (Japan Visitor)

In this case, there are only two remaining of the original three sets of stone guardians at the shrine, one at the entrance, and one at the mid-section of the Visiting Path. The set that disappeared would have been placed at the entrance to the Main Hall, which burnt down several decades ago. The two remaining sets are known simply as the ‘large guardians’ (大狛犬) and the ‘small guardians’ (小狛犬), but what that doesn’t tell you however is that they were designed in completely different styles, and were dedicated at different times. Records indicate that the remaining pairs or guardians date back to the First Generation Shrine, but since the dates have been vandalized. So, based on their size and the information we have about them, its safe to say that the large set at the entrance to the park were donated in 1928 (昭和3年), while the smaller pair were donated in 1922 (大正11年).

The interesting thing is that the smaller set were crafted in the exact same style as the remaining pair of guardians at the ruins of the Keelung Shinto Shrine. The larger pair on the other hand were crafted to look similar to the guardians from the Taiwan Grand Shrine (臺灣神宮) in Taipei.

Another notable fact about the smaller set is that they were crafted in such a manner that they appear similar to the design of Taiwanese-style guardians that you’ll find at temples across the country, which (its assumed) is part of the reason why they have remained so safe from vandalism.

Link: 狛犬――連結臺灣與日本,日常生活裡的藝術雕塑 (Nippon)

Note: Interestingly, during my research about the Kagi Shrine and its komainu, I came across some interesting resources that introduced a theory about the history of the construction of stone-guardians, like these, in Taiwan. The article, linked above, explains that from the Qing Dynasty, blacksmiths were banned in Taiwan due to the amount of rebellions and uprisings that took place. When the Japanese arrived, there weren’t any resources available that could aid in the construction of the ‘guardians' for all the shrines that were being constructed around the island. Thus, it’s theorized that the reason why so many of the older guardians look so similar is due to the fact that they were all imported directly from Yamaguchi Prefecture (山口縣), west of Tokyo, or were sculpted by craftsmen from the area.

The theory is given more credence by the fact that several of Taiwan’s Governor Generals originally hailed from Yamaguchi, as were most of the craftsmen who came to Taiwan to assist in the construction of bridges, such as the famed Meiji Bridge (明治橋) in Taipei, which was constructed with stone imported directly from Yamaguchi.

Purification Fountain (手水舍 / ちょうずしゃ)

Located on the left side of the Visiting Path opposite the Administration Office, you’ll find what is known as the Purification Fountain, an essential addition to any Shinto Shrine. Like the Visiting Path, the fountain is sure to appear at any shrine you visit as it marks another important philosophical aspect to Shintoism, which is referred to as “hare and ke” (ハレとケ), or the "sacred-profane dichotomy."

One of the main methods of marking the visitor’s journey from the sacred to the profane, is that for anyone crossing the barrier into the ‘sacred realm,’ they should do so in the cleanliest possible manner. This is achieved by symbolically performing a purification ritual at the chozuya (ちょうずしゃ) or temizuya (てみずしゃ) provided. The shrine was originally set up in the ‘upper’ and ‘lower’ layer, and you’ll notice that as the Visiting Path continues past the Purification Fountain, there is a set of stairs that that you walk up to reach the ‘upper’ section. The second shrine gate was originally located at the top of the stairs, and would have marked the entrance into the sacred part of the shrine.

The Purification Fountain that remains on-site today is the original, and was completed in 1945 (昭和20年). The fountain itself is a simple octagonal-shaped stone fountain inscribed with the words “Donated by members of the Chiayi Civil Engineering Group in October of 1942” (奉獻 昭和十七年十月 嘉義土木建築請員業組合員一同). The top of the fountain has a stone plate where a long wooden ladle, known as a ‘hishaku’ (柄杓 / ひしゃく) was placed for worshippers to take part in the purification ritual mentioned above. Hanging from the roof above the fountain, you’ll find an instruction board where the purification process is detailed.

In order to protect the sacred water in the fountain, a pavilion was constructed to cover it, and as is the case at most shrines of this size, extra care was taken to construct a beautiful space. The fountain was constructed on a cement base and the four pillars that prop up the massive roof of the pavilion are also cemented into the base to ensure the stabilization of the roof. Both the pillars and the roof were constructed entirely of cypress from nearby Alishan. The roof was constructed with the flowing two-sided symmetrical kirizuma-zukuri-style (切妻造 / きりづまづくり), the weight of which is propped up by both the four pillars and a network of trusses that connect to the pillars.

The roof itself is quite decorative in that both of the gable ends feature what is known as ‘Gegyo' (懸魚 / げぎょ), which are decorative wooden boards shaped to look like a hanging fish, and are used as a charm against fire, similar to porcelain dragons on Taiwanese temples. The top of the roof is covered in a variety of black roof tiles, most of which I’ll explain below, but the mixture of flat tiles, cylindrical tiles and end tiles used to keep everything in place. It’s an extremely complex mixture that will kind of blow your mind if you take some time to look closely and appreciate that there are likely a thousand or more individual pieces locked in together.

Resting Pavilion (參集所)

While visiting the park, I had assumed that this ‘Resting Pavilion’ was something that was constructed well after the Japanese-era had ended, but it was in fact an original part of the shrine that has been changed a few times in the years since. The interesting thing about this so-called ‘Resting Pavilion’ is that it isn’t something common at shrines in Japan, but was likely something that was added due to the tropical climate in Chiayi.

Located on the same side as the Purification Fountain, across from the Administration Office, the pavilion was a space where people could get some shade from the afternoon sun instead of waiting for family and friends in spaces where they’d exposed to the heat.

All that remains of the original pavilion is the cement base and the cement pillars that helped to prop up the original roof. The current roof is something that has been renovated at some point and features steel beams and trusses that help to support a two-sided kirizuma-like roof. It’s safe to assume that the original roof of the building would have appeared similar in its decorative elements to that of the Purification Fountain, but it’s currently covered by iron sheets and on the ends, you’ll find some iconography akin to the decorative elements you’d find at a post-war military village, meant to signify the Republic of China, or its military.

Administration Office (社務所 / しゃむしょ)

The two buildings that have come to personify what remains of Kagi Shrine are the beautiful Administration Office and the Priests Hall, two large, and very traditionally constructed spaces that are directly connected with each other. The buildings have been beautifully restored, and both the exterior and the interior are well-maintained, and are well worth the modest entrance fee for a visit.

Working together in unison, the buildings were originally used for a number of purposes. First and foremost, it was a space where the shrine’s priests, priestesses, and other staff would rest while they weren’t busy performing their duties. They were also a space where the administrative aspects of the shrine were taken care of in addition to offering space where special events or ceremonies could be held. While the interior of the buildings would have been mostly off-limits to the average visitor, they also offered space for people who might have had any special requests for prayers or rites.

In Japan, the ‘Administration Office’ is more commonly known as a ‘shamusho’ (社務所 / しゃむしょ), and are probably best known for featuring what is known as a ‘Public Counter’ (授与所 / じゅよじょ), which is like a gift shop where visitors can ‘receive' (purchase) shrine branded tokens and amulets. However, looking at the floor plan and the design of the buildings, it’s highly unlikely that this was the case at the Kagi Shrine. So, if there were one of these gift shops at the shrine, it would probably have been located in a separate building nearby, or closer to the shrine. Completed in 1943, the buildings were part of the second phase of construction of the Second Generation Shrine, officially opening a year after the rest of the shrine.

Given that the Japanese had learned their lesson with regard to the construction of wooden buildings in Taiwan, both of the buildings were constructed on a cement base with sixty centimeter-long pedestals propping them off of the ground, offering protection from earthquakes as well as all the termites, which happily feasted upon the First Generation Shrine.

This time, in addition to the cement base, both of the buildings were constructed with a mixture of brick and cypress from the nearby mountains, and the walls in the interior feature the genius insulation method of combining bamboo and mud (編竹夾泥牆), something that the Japanese came up with as an answer to Taiwan’s tropical climate.

Officially, the buildings were constructed in the irimoya-zukuri (入母造 / いりもやづくり) style of architectural design, but within that particular style there are several off-shoots, and more specifically, in this case the ‘Shoin-zukuri’ (書院造/しょいんづくり) style of design was used for the layout of the interior of the buildings. Originally a style of design that was used for the construction of mansions, temple halls or the residences for Buddhist priests, the architectural style has become the foundation for the design of most of the traditional residential buildings in Japan today. The term ‘shoin’ (書院), translates literally as a ‘study’ or a place for lectures, and although its origins come from the construction of Buddhist temples, it is essentially a style of building characterized by tatami mats, aisles and sliding doors that open up to partitions.

Given that it’s an off-shoot of the irimoya style, one of the most important things to keep in mind is that the base of the building, known literally as the ‘mother’s house’ (母屋), is considerably smaller than the roof above, which means that the architectural design within the interior of the buildings features a network of pillars and trusses that assist in supporting and stabilizing the weight of the roof, which in both cases is absolutely beautiful.

While not as complex or as intricate in design as the roof of the shrine’s more sacred buildings, the roof that was constructed on both of these buildings was designed in the two-sided kirizuma-zukuri (切妻造 / きりづまづくり) style of design, with beautiful gable-ends, and is covered with black tiles (黑瓦). Adding complexity to the roofs, both buildings feature a ‘covered-front porch’, known in Japan as a ‘karahafu porch’ (唐破風), an addition that draws its inspiration from the architecture of the Tang Dynasty, and is something that remains quite popular in Japan. The ‘'porch’ essentially protrudes from the front of the kirizuma roof, but features a separate four-sided roof of its own, supported by four pillars in front of the main doors, adding a three-dimensional or ‘flowing’ element to the design.

Facing outward from the front of the porch, is a triangular gable known as a chidori-hafu (千鳥破風/ちどりはふ), which has a 'hanging fish’ decoration at the tip, and a decorative onigawara (鬼瓦 / おにがわら) tile at the top. This may not mean very much to the average reader, but it shows that an incredible amount of care, and money, were spent to ensure that these buildings stood out in their decorative design.

Apart from the porch, there are a number of decorative elements on the roof that also play integral functional elements, protecting it from rain, and keeping everything in place. While they are (for the most part) considered common elements found on the roofs of more formal Japanese-style buildings, and would have also been included on the roof of the shrine, these two buildings, the Purification Fountain, as well as the Ritual Storage Building (which I’ll introduce below) are the only sections of the shrine that remain where you’ll find them all in one place.

Those decorative elements are as follows:

  • Hiragawara (平瓦 /ひらがわら) - a type of arc-shaped clay roofing tile.

  • Munagawara (棟瓦 /むながわらあ) - ridge tiles used to cover the apex of the roof.

  • Onigawara (鬼瓦 / おにがわら) - ornamental ridge-end tiles that are used to symbolize protection.

  • Nokigawara (軒瓦/のきがわら) - the roof tiles placed along the eaves lines.

  • Noshigawara (熨斗瓦/のしがわら) - thick rectangular tiles located under ridge tiles.

  • Sodegawara (袖瓦/そでがわら) - cylindrical sleeve tiles

  • Tsuma (妻/つま) - the triangular-shaped parts of the gable on the roof under the ridge.

  • Hafu (破風板/ はふいた) - bargeboards that lay flat against the ridge ends to finish the gable.

Although there have been some modern modifications to the buildings after the restoration work was completed, the interior space has been largely left the same. The original tatami mats have been removed, and replaced with hard-wood flooring. Similarly, modern lighting and air conditioning has been added, which is probably something the priests in 1943 would have loved to have access to given the heat of Chiayi’s summer days.

The space today, though, is divided up into exhibitions about the history of the shrine, so its difficult for the average visitor to fully understand the original layout of the building, but the displays offer some very detailed information about the various elements of the design.

That being said, one of the genius aspects of the design of buildings like this, especially since air conditioning hadn’t been invented yet, was that the windows in the building were specifically constructed to open up and allow fresh air into the building. The air circulation system included sliding windows panels at the rear of the building that could be completely opened as well as ventilation within the sliding panels within the interior.

It would have been hot within the buildings, but the design did its best to mitigate the sweltering tropical heat of Chiayi, something which I personally can’t endure for very long before I start to melt.

Ritual Storage Building (祭器庫 / さいきくら)

Even though this is just a simple storage building, it is still one of the highlights of what remains of the former Shinto Shrine. Among the remnants of Taiwan’s Shinto Shrines, you’ll find that this particular type of building is quite rare, and only here at the Chiayi Shrine will you find one in such great shape. While a ‘storage' building might sound rather unimportant, it is actually an integral part of the shrine, as it is a space where some really important objects, that were used for special occasions, were kept.

The most important of these objects would have been the shrine’s ‘mikoshi’ (神輿 / みこし), a specially-branded palanquin constructed especially for the shrine. The mikoshi would have been used to transport one of the kami whenever they came out during the annual ‘matsuri festival’ (祭 / まつり), which was held on October 28th every year in Chiayi.

In order to keep the mikoshi safe, the rectangular building was constructed with reinforced concrete in the traditional irimoya-zukuri (入母造 / いりもやづくり) architectural style mentioned earlier. Given that it was constructed with concrete, the base was easily able to stabilize the weight of the roof above, and also allowed for windows on three sides of the building.

In most cases, irimoya-style buildings make use of intricate hip-and-gable style roofs, but in this case, the roof was constructed with a simple, yet beautifully decorated two-sided kirizuma-zukuri-style (切妻造 / きりづまづくり) with gable-ends on the front and rear of the building.

First Generation Shrine Ruins (第一代嘉義神社殘跡)

Arguably one of the more important of the remaining sections of the shrine are the ruins of the First Generation Shrine, which was later used to house a separate set of kami. That being said, for most visitors, this is likely to simply appear as an uninteresting cement base, and probably don’t really understand the point or the purpose of what the ruins entail.

Personally, this is one of my favorite parts of the park as it shows the size of the First Generation Shrine.

Featuring the ruins of both the Hall of Worship (拜殿 / はいでん) and the Main Hall (本殿 / ほんでん), the park has constructed a wooden structure around the perimeter of the base where the larger Hall of Worship once stood while the Main Hall to the rear, which was elevated on a cement base remains in place.

The cement base of the Main Hall, which is well over a century old now is cracked, likely due to earthquake damage, but it otherwise remains in excellent condition. It’s a simple square-shaped pedestal that has a set of stairs in the front that would have allowed the shrine’s priests to approach the Main Hall that was placed on top. Currently, there is a barrier around it to keep people from crawling all over it as it is part of the protected heritage site.

Chiayi Park / Showa 18 Relic Museum (嘉義市史蹟資料館)

As mentioned earlier, Chiayi Park, originally known as ‘Kagi Park’, then renamed to Zhongshan Park, and finally changed back to its original name in 1996, is an expansive 268,000 square meter natural space within the confines of Chiayi City. The park features not only the ruins of the Shinto Shrine, but also the Chiayi Confucius Temple (嘉義孔廟), the Chiayi Martyrs Shrine (嘉義忠烈祠), the Sun-Shooting Tower (射日塔), the KANO baseball park, and the Chiayi Botanical Gardens (嘉義植物園). The trees in the park, most of which were planted during the Japanese-era are tall and beautiful, and there is always something taking place as it is popular with both the locals and tourists alike.

Currently located within the Administration Office and Priests Hall is the “Showa 18 Relic Museum,” which is split up into an exhibition space, and a coffee shop where visitors can enjoy some coffee, tea or afternoon snacks. The term “Showa 18” refers to the eighteenth year of Emperor Showa’s (better known in English as Hirohito) reign, coinciding with 1943 on the western calendar. Named for the year of the completion of the Second Generation Kagi Shrine, the museum features exhibitions about the shrine’s history, and features relics from the shrine that have been preserved over the years.

Within the buildings, you’ll also find a small shop that sells locally made products that celebrate the history of Chiayi, created to look like the kind of amulets that you’d purchase at a shrine in Japan, as well as a kimono rental service that is likely popular with instagrammers.

Residents of Chiayi can enter the museum free of charge, but the rest of us have to pay a 50NT admission fee to enter the buildings to check them out. The ticket price however can be used to discount anything that you purchase within the building, so if you want to have a drink, snack, or purchase one of the crafts inside, it’s not that bad. Even if you don’t purchase anything, I highly recommend going into the buildings to check them out. The museum section features some interesting exhibits, and the interior of the buildings are absolutely beautiful, and as mentioned above, have been wonderfully restored to their original condition.

Getting There

 

Address: #42 Gongyuan Street, East District, Chiayi City

嘉義市東區公園街42號

GPS: 23.481070, 120.467690

If you find yourself in Chiayi, one of the best ways to get around is to rent a scooter from one of the rental shops next to the train station. Renting a scooter, though, can sometimes be a hassle for international travelers, especially if you haven’t brought an International Drivers License along with you on your trip. So, if you’d like to make your way to Chiayi Park to check out the shrine, the Confucius Temple, or any of the other historic structures in or around the park, your best bet is to probably hop on a bus just outside of the Chiayi Train Station (嘉義車站).

Bus

In recent years, Chiayi City has upgraded its bus network into a “BRT” (Bus Rapid Transport) system similar to the one in used in Taichung. The new system has replaced all of the old Chiayi Bus (嘉義公車) routes that used to exist. So, if you’ve looked at other resources online that haven’t been updated, you might find yourself a bit confused about how to get around.

From Chiayi Station, you’ll want to hop on either Bus #7211 or Bus #7212, both of which travel a square-like route through the city center.

Link: Chiayi BRT Bus #7211 and 7212 Route Map (嘉義客運) | Map and Schedule

You also have the option of hopping on the Taiwan Tour Bus (台灣好行) #0715 from the station, but it comes much less frequently than the other two.

Youbike

If you can’t get access to a rental scooter, never fear, the weather in Chiayi is great year-round and the city has a large number of Youbike Stations where you can pick up a bicycle and drop it off. If you’re setting off from the train station, there is a Youbike station directly to left of the entrance. From there, you can make your way to Chiayi Park on your bike, riding straight down Chungshan Road (中山路) to the park, or whatever route you prefer. There are at least four Youbike stations surrounding the park, so you’ll be able to easily drop the bike off when you need to.

Apart from that, if you don’t feel like taking a bus, or riding a Youbike across town, you always have the option of grabbing a taxi at the train station. A trip to the park won’t be too expensive, and once you’re there, you’ll be able to walk to a few other destinations that are close by.

If you find yourself in Chiayi, you’ll find that there are a large number of historic destinations to experience, and the ruins of the Kagi Shrine are just one that you’ll find conveniently located within the Chiayi Park. You may not think that visiting a park is worth your precious travel time, you may not also think that the ruins of a Shinto Shrine are all that important, but when it comes to the history and the development of Chiayi City as we know it today, the shrine, played a pretty important role.

If you’re looking for places to visit, the park is close to a number of historic destinations, and you’re also in luck because there are also a number of really great coffee shops surrounding the perimeter, where you’ll be able to take a break from the sun. Obviously this is a destination that is my kind of thing, but since Chiayi really promotes its Japanese-era history for tourism, there’s probably no better place to visit than the shrine!

References

  1. Kagi Shrine | 嘉義神社 中文 | 嘉義神社 日文 (Wiki)

  2. Chiayi | 嘉義市 中文 | 嘉義市 日文 (Wiki)

  3. 嘉義街 | 嘉義郡 | 臺南州 (Wiki)

  4. 台灣神社列表 (Wiki)

  5. 嘉義公園 (Wiki)

  6. Shrine Architecture | 神社建築 中文 | 神社建築 日文 (Wiki)

  7. Modern system of ranked Shinto shrines | 近代社格制度 (Wiki)

  8. 原嘉義神社暨附屬館所 (國家文化資產網)

  9. 嘉義神社與參道外貌 (國家文化記憶庫)

  10. 臺灣日治時期地方政府廳舍建築 (Wiki)

  11. 嘉義市市定古蹟原嘉義神社附屬館所調查研究 (嘉義市文化局)

Historic Photos

  1. 臺灣國定古蹟編纂研究小組 (Facebook)

  2. 臺灣の神社遺跡 (Facebook)

  3. 帝國の臺灣 (Facebook)

  4. Geomosa (Facebook)

  5. 嘉義神社與參道外貌 (國家文化記憶庫)


Taiwanese Hokkien-style Architecture (臺灣閩南建築)

When I first started writing on this website, I spent quite a bit of time focusing on Taiwan’s historic places of worship, or at least, some of the more popular and well-known temples in the country. Why? Well, its pretty simple, its what I was interested in, and it goes without saying that temples here are absolutely beautiful.

Later, when I branched out and started publishing articles about other kinds of tourist destinations and attractions around Taiwan, I made sure to maintain a focus on the subjects that I enjoy, which for the most part have to do with the local religion, mountains and nature, and urban exploration. It takes quite a bit of my personal time to write these articles, so its important that I write about the things I care about. Thus, one of the common themes that you may have noticed by now is that the places I write about almost always share a relationship with the history of Taiwan, and are destinations that have an interesting story to tell. Afterwards, when I started writing about destinations related to the fifty year period of colonial rule, known as the Japanese-era, my research forced me to spend a considerable amount of time learning more about the architectural design characteristics of those historic places I was writing about, so that I could better explain their significance.

On a personal note, something I’ve probably never mentioned is that both my father and my late grandfather are (were) highly-skilled and widely-sought master carpenters back home. After my parents divorced, I’d sometimes get taken to a work site where they were in the middle of constructing some beautiful new house (likely in the hope that I’d carry on the family tradition), and although our relationship was never really that strong, I had to respect the mathematical genius it took for them to construct some of the things they were were building. Looking back, I probably never expected that years later, I’d be spending so much time researching and writing about these things, but in order to better understand the complicated and genius designs of those historic places I was writing about, I had to put in the extra effort to learn about their design characteristics.

Getting to the point, recently, while writing an article about Taipei’s Jiantan Historic Temple (劍潭古寺), I figured I’d do what I normally do and spend some time writing about the its special architectural characteristics. Sadly, writing that article forced me to face the sad truth that after all these years learning about the intricacies of traditional Japanese architectural design, that I actually knew very little about traditional ‘Taiwanese’ design. Finishing that article ended up taking considerably longer than I originally expected because I spent so much time researching and learning about the various elements of local architectural design, and the terms, many of which were completely new to me, that would be necessary to properly describe the design of the temple.

Suffice to say, much of what I ended up learning during those days spent in coffee shops researching the topic were things that I could go back and apply to dozens of articles that I’ve published in the past, but going back and adding descriptions of the architectural design of all of those places feels like a daunting task at the moment - so, for the time being, I’ve decided to make use of a collection of photos that I’ve taken over the years to offer readers a general idea about the intricacies of one of Taiwan’s most common styles of architectural design, and more specifically the decorative elements that make these buildings so visually spectacular.

While this might sound corny, when it comes to traditional Taiwanese architectural design, the old adage, “a picture is worth a thousand words” is something that I think can be expanded upon as “a Taiwanese temple is worth a thousand stories,” each of which you’ll find is depicted in great detail in every corner of a temple. Unfortunately, for most people, locals included, these stories remain somewhat of a mystery, and for visitors to Taiwan, this is a topic that hasn’t been covered very well in the English-language.

Obviously, the intent here is to help people better understand what they’re seeing when they’re standing in front of one of these buildings, however even though this article will be a long one, it’s important to keep in mind that I’m only touching upon the tip of the iceberg of this topic, which is something that is deserving of years of research.

‘Hokkien’ or ‘Taiwanese’?

To start, I should probably first address the wordage I’m using here, which should help readers understand some of the complicated cultural and historic factors involved. People often find themselves in heated arguments online when it comes to this topic, and although that’s something I’d prefer to avoid, as is the case with almost everything in Taiwan these days, there are some political factors involved. Whether or not you agree, when I use the term “Taiwanese-Hokkien,” I’m doing my best to use an inclusive term that reflects the history of Taiwan, and the current climate we find ourselves in with regard to the complicated relationship that Taiwan shares with its neighbor to the west.

Over the years, one of the things I’ve noticed that causes the most amount of confusion, and debate, is with regard to the difference between ‘nationality’ and ‘ethnicity.’ This is something that I’ve always found particularly confusing, mostly due to my own personal background; So, if you’ll allow me, let me make an analogy, I’ll try to explain things that way.

If you weren’t already aware, I grew up in the eastern Canadian province of Nova Scotia, an area that has been colonized by both the French and English. However, for much of its modern history, Nova Scotia, which is Latin for ‘New Scotland,’ was predominately populated by immigrants hailing from Scotland.

Being of Scottish ancestry myself, people at home would probably think I had mental issues if I suddenly started claiming that the province was part of Scotland’s sovereign territory, simply because of the history of immigration.

Similarly, in Nova Scotia, we speak a dialect of French, known as ‘Francais Acadien’ which, unlike the language spoken in Quebec or France, is a variation that hasn’t really changed much over the past few hundred years.

Thus, if I were to contrast the history of my homeland with that of Taiwan’s history, Chinese immigration to Taiwan is an example of how colonization in the early seventeenth century brought about a divergence, and a split, when it comes to language and culture.

The earliest Chinese migrants to the island hailed from what is now China’s Fujian Province (福建省), more specifically Chaozhou (潮州), Zhangzhou (漳州) and Amoy (廈門), and like the Scots who fled to Canada, many of those who came to Taiwan did so to escape economic hardship and persecution at home. This mass movement of people, the vast majority of whom were of ‘Southern-Fukienese’, or ‘Hokkien’ (閩南) in origin, sent most people on their way to more hospitable locations, such as Singapore, Malaysia, the Philippines, Indonesia, Myanmar, Southern Thailand, Cambodia and Vietnam, and is why you’ll still find considerably large ethnic Chinese populations in those countries today.

Similarly, Taiwan just so happened to be another one of the destinations where the immigrants came by the boatloads, but unlike the other areas mentioned above, the island wasn’t exactly what would be considered the ‘choice’ destination for most of the migrants due to the lack of development and the harsh conditions on the island.

Coincidentally, this is a topic that I covered quite extensively after a trip to Vietnam with regard to the Assembly Halls (會館) that were constructed in the historic trading port of Hoi An (會安), where groups of migrants pooled their resources together to create places to celebrate their language and cultural heritage.

Link: Chinese Assembly Halls of Hoi An (會安華人會館)

With regard to those Assembly Halls, what is interesting is that the Hokkien were just ‘one’ of the ethnic groups hailing from that particular region of China that ended up migrating south, starting mostly during the Ming and Qing Dynasties. In fact, even though the term “Hokkien” refers to the people from “Southern Min”, they are part of a large number of ethnic groups, whose ancestry originated in the Central Plains of China several thousand years ago. However, similar to Taiwan’s other major ethnic group of migrants, the Hakka (客家), the Hokkien people are renowned for being well-traveled, and within ethnic-Chinese communities around the world, you’ll be sure to find a large portion of Hokkien people who have brought with them their own own particular style of architectural design, folk arts, cuisine, religious practices, and folklore, they have also adapted influences of their new homelands.

In Taiwan’s case, over the past few centuries, Hokkien language and culture has been influenced by their interactions with the Hakka, Indigenous Taiwanese, Europeans, and the Japanese. Such is the case that linguistically-speaking, the language spoken in Taiwan makes it difficult (not impossible) for speakers of the language hailing from China or South East Asia to comprehend, which have also had linguistic divergences of their own. Sadly, though, the Hokkien language has had a complicated history in Taiwan given that it was suppressed by both the Japanese and Chinese Nationalist colonial regimes.

Yet, despite the language going through a period of decline in the number of speakers over the past century, it has gone through somewhat of a revival in the decades since the end of Martial Law (戒嚴時期), thanks to the ‘mother-tongue movement’, which seeks to revive, restore and celebrate Hokkien, Hakka and Taiwan’s indigenous languages.

Nevertheless, as I mentioned earlier, an area of contention with regard to the language has to do with its official name, which tends to be quite political, and how it is named really depends on who you’re talking to. As is the case with Mandarin, which is referred to in Mandarin as the “National Language” (國語), “Chinese” (中文), or the “Han Language” (漢語), Hokkien is often also referred to as “Taiwanese” or “Tâi-gí” (台語). People who refer to the language as Hokkien often do so because they feel the name ‘Taiwanese’ belittles the other languages spoken on the island while the opposing side considers the term “Hokkien” inadequate because it refers to a variation of the language spoken in China, and not a language that is part of the beating heart of Taiwan’s modern identity. I’m not here to tell you what name you should use to refer to the language. That’s entirely up to you, and no matter what term you prefer, you’re not likely to end up insulting anyone.

Obviously, many things have changed since the seventeenth century, and both China and Taiwan have developed separately, and in their own ways. Shifting away from the divergence of the language, one of the other more noticeable areas where the two countries share some similarities, yet also diverge at the same time (at least from the perspective here in Taiwan) is with regard to the way Hokkien architectural design, and its adherence to cultural folklore is both created and celebrated.

One claim you’ll often hear on this side of the Taiwan strait is that Communism, and more specifically, the Cultural Revolution (文化大革命) resulted in an irreparable amount of damage to traditional Chinese cultural values and traditions, whereas in Taiwan, you’ll discover that traditional culture is widely celebrated. Personally, having lived in both countries, I’d argue that this is a massive over-simplification of the issue, and not necessarily always the case, but it is true, especially in the case of religious practices, that many of the traditional cultural values that are widely practiced and accepted here in Taiwan have not fared as well in China over the past century.

If you’ve spent any time in Taiwan, it should be rather obvious that traditional culture is widely celebrated here, and most would agree that the nation is home to some of the most important examples of Hokkien architectural design and folklore that you’ll find anywhere in the world. This isn’t to say that you won’t find a considerable amount of traditional architectural design in China, or in immigrant communities in South East Asia, but no where will you find such a large concentration as in Taiwan.

Even though Taiwan has its own fair share of folklore and heroic figures, one aspect of Hokkien culture that you’ll find celebrated here is with regard to its cultural history, especially with events that took place in China hundreds, if not thousands of years ago. The historic events and legends that you’ll find displayed on the walls and roofs of these buildings across Taiwan are quite adept at putting that relationship on display. This is the case not only with the architectural and decorative elements of Taiwan’s temples, but also with regard to the local folk religion figures who are worshiped inside, many of whom are historic Hokkien figures who have been deified for their heroic actions, but for the large part, have never stepped foot in Taiwan.

So, even though the topic might be uncomfortable for some, it doesn’t change the fact that Taiwan’s rich cultural history has been guided in part by immigrants from China, who brought with them their cultural values. That being said, even though the two sides of the strait share links with regard to culture, language and ethnicity, that doesn’t mean that they inextricably linked with one another, or that one side has the right to claim sovereignty over the other.

Link: As Taiwan’s Identity Shifts, Can the Taiwanese Language Return to Prominence? (Ketagalan Media)

Whether you refer to the language as ‘Taiwanese’ or ‘Hokkien,’ it is estimated to be spoken (to some degree) by at least 81.9% of the Taiwanese population today, and while it was once more commonly associated with older generation, and informal settings, Taiwanese has become part of a newly formed national identity. In recent years, the youth of the country have embraced the language as a means of differentiating themselves not only from the neighbors across the strait, but the Chinese Nationalist Party (國民黨), which ruled over Taiwan with an iron fist for half a century prior to democratization. Sorry Youth (拍謝少年), EggplantEgg (茄子蛋) and AmazingBand (美秀劇團) are just a few examples of some of the musical groups that perform primarily in Taiwanese, and television production has gone from low-budget soap operas for the older generation to contemporary large-budget Netflix-level productions that have become pop-culture hits.

Link: Beyond Pop-Culture: Towards Integrating Taiwanese into Daily Life (Taiwan Gazette)

The resurgence of Taiwanese since the end of Martial Law, however, is just one area where traditional ‘Hokkien’ culture has experienced a revival. One of the more admirable things about Taiwan, and is something that is (arguably) missing in China, is the amount of civil activism that takes place here. In China, for example, if the government proposes urban renewal plans that will ultimately destroy heritage structures, and displace people from their homes, there isn’t all that much in terms of opposition (this has been changing in recent years), but here in Taiwan, people have little patience for this sort of behavior, and are very vocal and willing to take to the streets to vigorously fight for the preservation of the nation’s heritage structures. Some might argue that this level of civic participation slows development, but when a government at any level is held to account, it is a good thing isn’t it?

Given that most the oldest heritage buildings that you’re likely to find in Taiwan today, are of Hokkien origin, what you’ll experience at some of the historic buildings that have become popular tourist attractions is a showcase in the masterful beauty of this style of architectural design. The Lin An Tai Mansion (林安泰古厝) in Taipei and the Lin Family Mansion (板橋林家花園) in Taoyuan are just two examples of historic mansions that have been restored and opened to the public in recent years. Similarly, places of worship, where this style of design shines at its brightest, such as Taipei’s Longshan Temple (艋舺龍山寺) and Bao-An Temple (大龍峒保安宮) are highly regarded as two of the most important specimens of Hokkien-style architecture anywhere in the world.

While the examples above are just a few of the more well-known destinations for tourists here in the north, its also true that no matter where you’re traveling in the country, you won’t find yourself too far from an example of this well-preserved style of architectural beauty. So, now that I’ve got that long-winded disclaimer out of the way, let’s start talking about what makes Taiwan’s Hokkien-style architecture so prolific.

Taiwanese Hokkien-Style Architecture (臺灣閩南建築)

Before I start, it’s probably important to note that Hokkien-style architecture in Taiwan shares similar elements of design with many of the other traditional styles of Southern Chinese architectural design. You may find yourself asking what makes this particular style of design so special and you’d probably also expect a long and complex answer, but that’s not actually the case. What stands out with regard to this architectural style is that (almost) every building is a celebration of their culture, history and folklore - and the means by which these celebrations are depicted is through a decorative style of art that is most common among the Hokkien people.

While its true that the Hokkien people who migrated to Taiwan originated in Southern China, and it’s also true that you’ll find some of these design elements adorning traditional buildings there as well, as I mentioned earlier, during the period that the two have been split, alterations to the style and the method for which these things are constructed have changed. Today, Taiwan is home to a much greater volume of buildings making use of this architectural design, and the Hokkien craftspeople here have perfected their art as they have adapted to their new environs, with modern construction techniques streamlining the process.   

In this section, I’m not going to focus on specific construction techniques or the materials used to construct buildings. Instead, I’m going to focus on two elements that define Hokkien style architecture: The Swallowtail Roof (燕尾脊), and the cut-porcelain mosaic (剪瓷雕) decorative designs, both of which are the means by which the Hokkien people so eloquently tell their stories.

The Swallowtail Ridge (燕尾脊)

If you’ve been following my blog for any period of time, you’re probably well-aware that I spend quite a bit of time describing the architectural design of the roofs of the places I visit. For locals, these things are probably just normal aspects of life, so I doubt they put much effort into thinking about the mastery of their architectural design, but for me (and possibly you if you’re reading this), a foreigner, whenever I see these impressive roofs, whether they’re covering a Hokkien or Hakka building, or a Japanese-era structure, I’m always in awe of the work that goes into constructing them.

For most of us westerners, a roof is just a roof, it doesn’t really do all that much other than cover your house, and protect you from the elements. Here in Taiwan, though, when buildings are constructed, a lot of thought and consideration goes into the design, especially when it comes to the decorative elements that are added. So, even though the Hokkien-style Swallowtail Ridge roof has become one of the more common styles of traditional architectural design that you’ll find here in Taiwan, they’re still quite amazing to behold.

The ‘swallow’ (燕子) is a pretty common species of bird here in Taiwan, so common in fact that as I’m sitting in a coffee shop writing this article, there are about twenty of them relaxing on a power line just outside the window. Even though swallows are considered to be quite beautiful, I’d (probably unfairly) compare them to crows back home in Canada. The biggest difference between the two, though, is that crows in Canada are considered pests, and if they construct a nest near your home, you do your best to get rid of it. In Taiwan on the other hand, if a pair of swallows construct a nest near your home it is considered to be good luck and people will often make an effort to ensure that the nest is safe, and that that babies won’t fall to their deaths.

With that in mind, it is common in Taiwan for people to say that ‘swallows always return to their nest,’ a metaphor for the feeling of ‘homesickness’ people have while living far away. Given that the Hokkien people are a well-traveled bunch, the swallow, and more specifically, the swallowtail roof is a reminder of home, childhood memories, and is one of the reasons why this is a style of design that never gets old, as it is so culturally entrenched in the hearts of the people here.

So what exactly is a Swallowtail Roof? Well, that answer is something that I personally found surprising.

Speaking to the different styles of roof mentioned earlier, before I give you the answer to the question above, it’s probably a good idea to provide some ideas of the common styles of architectural design that are common in Taiwan. I’ve seen estimations that there are at least sixty different variations of roof design common within Southern-Fujianese architecture, but those variations can be easily divided up into six specific styles of design, many of which can be found all over Taiwan today.

  1. Hip Roof Style (廡殿頂) - a style of roof with four slopes on the front, rear, left and right. It is the highest ranking of all of the styles of architectural design and is reserved only for palaces and places of worship. The National Theater and Concert Hall (國家兩廳院) at Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial Hall are pretty good examples of this style of design.

  2. Hip-and-Gable Style (歇山頂) - One of the most common styles of roof design, the hip-and-gable roof is a three-dimensional combination of a two-sided hip and four-sided gable roof. Many of Taiwan’s places of worship, ancestral shrines, and historic mansions use this style. It is a style of architectural design that is thought to have originated during the Tang Dynasty (唐朝), and is used all over East Asia, most significantly in Japan.

  3. Pyramid-Roof Style (攢尖頂) - a style of roof that is more common for ‘auxiliary buildings’ rather than temples. You’ll often find this style of roof covering pavilions in parks, drum towers at temples, etc. Within this specific style, it is uncommon to encounter swallowtail designs, although they might be adorned with some of the porcelain art that I’ll introduce below.

  4. Hard Mountain Style (硬山頂) - a basic style of roof design that features two slopes on the front and rear of the building. This style of design is most common in Hokkien houses and mansions around Taiwan. Despite being more subdued compared to the other styles of roof, it is a functional and practical roof that is easily repaired.

  5. Overhanging Gable Style (懸山頂) - a style of roof that became common in Taiwan during the half century of Japanese Colonial rule. This type of roof is a variation of the hip-and-gable roof mentioned above and features steep sloping hips in the front and rear of the building with triangular ends on both sides of the building.

  6. Rolling Shed Roof (捲棚頂) - considered to be similar to both the Hard Mountain and Overhanging Gable styles above, this specific style of roof is common in historic homes in Taiwan, but doesn’t feature a vertical ridge on top.

Of the six styles of roof listed above, it has been most common for the Hokkien people to make use of the ‘Hip-and-Gable’, ‘Hard Mountain’, and more recently, the ‘Overhanging Gable’ styles of architectural designs for their homes and places of worship. Notably, these particular styles of design were the three that are most easily adapted to Hokkien decorative elements, and the natural environment of Southern Fujian and Taiwan. It’s important to remember that in both of these coastal areas, any building that was constructed would have to be able to respond to the area’s natural environment and thus, sloping roofs like these helped to ensure that they were protected from periods of torrential rain.

Ultimately, the alterations that the Hokkien people made were to better fit their needs in ways that were both functional and decorative at the same time. To answer the question above, though, one thing that doesn’t often get mentioned in literature about Hokkien ‘Swallowtail Roofs’ is that they’re not actually a specific style of architectural roof design. In fact, the so-called ‘swallowtail’ is just a decorative modification of a traditional style of roof. The ‘swallowtail’ as we know it today, though, comes with several additions and decorative elements to a roof’s design that helps to ensure its cultural authenticity.

Obviously, the most important aspect is the curved ‘swallowtail ridge’ (燕尾脊 / tshio-tsit) located at the top of the roof of a building. With both ends of the ridge curving upwards, it is a design that is likened to the shape of a sharp crescent moon, and the straight lines on the ridge add beautiful symmetry to a structure. The Mid-Section (頂脊 / 正脊) of the curved ridge tends to be flat, and is an important section of the swallowtail where decorative elements are placed that assist in identifying the purpose of the building. The curved ridge also features a flat section facing outward, known as the ‘Ridge Spine’ (西施脊), where you’ll often find an incredible amount of decorative elements in the form of Hokkien cut porcelain carvings (剪瓷雕). Connecting to the ridge spine, you’ll also find Vertical Ridges (規帶) running down both the eastern and western sides of the sloping roof. These ridges are functional in that they help to keep the roof tiles locked in place, but they’re also decorative in that they feature platforms (牌頭) on the ends where you’ll find even more elaborate decorative additions.

Finally, one of the more indicative elements of Hokkien style roofs are the red tiles that cover the roof. As mentioned earlier, it is important for these roofs to be able to take care of rain water, so you’ll notice that these roofs feature what appear to be curved lines of tiles that look like tubes running down the roof. Between the tube-like tiles (筒瓦), there are also flat tiles (板瓦), which are meant to allow rainwater to flow smoothly down the roof. Crafted in kilns with Taiwanese red clay, the tiles might not seem all that important, but they do offer the opportunity to add more decorative elements in that the tube-like tiles have circular ends (瓦當) where you’ll find a myriad of designs depending on the building.

Suffice to say, when it comes to the addition of a swallowtail ridge to a building’s roof, there are a number of considerations that factor into their construction. The length, degree of curvature and decorative elements are all aspects of the design that are carefully planned, but are mostly determined by the size of a building, and more importantly the amount of money that is willing to be spent.

You’ll probably notice that the grander the swallowtail, or the number of layers to a building’s roof, is usually a pretty good indication of how important a place of worship is, or the deities who are enshrined within. In Taipei, Longshan Temple (艋舺龍山寺) is probably one of the best examples of the grandeur of a historic temple of importance, while the recently reconstructed Linkou Guanyin Temple (林口竹林山觀音寺) is probably one of the best examples of the spectacular things one can do with this style of design if you have deep enough pockets to throw at it.

Cut porcelain carvings (剪瓷雕)

Hokkien-style ‘Cut Porcelain Carvings’ come in several variations, each of which represent different themes or types of objects that are considered culturally or historically significant to the community, and the local environment. The art of cut porcelain carvings is thought to have been brought to Taiwan by Hokkien immigrants at some point in the seventeenth century, and while there are arguments as to whether Taiwan’s porcelain art originated in Chaozhou (潮州), Quanzhou (泉州) or Zhangzhou (漳州), it’s important to note that the craftsmen in Taiwan today have made a number of alterations to the traditional style which makes it difficult to determine the origin.

So, let’s just call it Taiwanese, then?

Another reason why its difficult to know how the decorative art arrived in Taiwan is due to the fact that authorities during the Qing Dynasty placed a ban on migration across the strait, which means that it was likely brought by undocumented migrants who fled the political situation in China, possibly during the late stages of the Ming Dynasty (明朝) when Koxinga (鄭成功) and his pirate navy arrived on the island given that they set off from the port in Amoy, which is today Xiamen City (廈門市) in Fujian.

One would think that this traditional style of art might be suffering from a lack of craftsmen in the modern era, few homes today are constructed in the traditional Hokkien style of architectural design, but you’d probably be surprised to learn that the creation of this cut porcelain art remains a thriving business in Taiwan, with newly constructed temples requiring new designs in addition to the thousands of already well-established places of worship across the country requiring some restoration work. Suffice to say, the creation of these carvings takes a considerable amount of time and craftsmanship, which also means that they’re quite expensive. Thus, you’ll find several large and well-known workshops owned by craftsmen, who have been working in the field for generations, but you’ll also find people who have branched out on their own and started creating their own work.

‘Cut porcelain carvings’, which are likened to life-like mosaics, are essentially a collage of small pieces of porcelain fixed to a pre-formed plaster shape, craftsmen recycle material from bowls, plates and pots, which they then crush into smaller pieces, dye with bright colors, and then attach to an object, which could be human-like figures, animals, flowers, etc. Decorative in nature, the carvings are also considered to represent themes such as ‘good luck’, ‘good fortune’, ‘longevity’, ‘protection’, etc.

As mentioned earlier, one of the major differences between the traditional Hokkien art and what’s practiced today is that artisans first form an object with wire frames that are then covered in high quality plaster with the porcelain then glued on top, which is a method that helps to ensure longevity.

When it comes to these carvings, you’ll have to keep in mind that what you’ll see really depends on the specific kind of building you’re looking at, and where you are, as the decorative elements tend to vary between different regions in Taiwan. With a wide variation of decorative elements, what you’ll see depicted on a Buddhist temple, Taoist temple, or even on a mansion may include some of the following elements:

Human Elements: The Three Stars (福祿壽), Magu (麻姑), the Eight Immortals (八仙), Nezha (哪吒), the Four Heavenly Kings (四大天王), Mazu (媽祖), Guanyin (觀音), and depictions of stores from the ‘Romance of the Three Kingdoms’ (三國演義) and the ‘Journey to the West’ (西遊記), etc.

Animals and Mythical Creatures: Phoenixes (龍鳳), dragons (龍), peacocks (孔雀), Aoyu (鰲魚), carp (鯉魚), Qilin (麒麟), lions, elephants, tigers, leopards, horses, etc.

Floral and Fruit Elements: Peonies (牡丹), lotuses (蓮花), narcissus flowers (水仙), plum blossoms (梅花), orchids (蘭花), bamboo (竹子), chrysanthemum (菊花), pineapples, wax apples, grapes, etc.

While some of these elements are quite straight-forward, quite a few of them are completely foreign to people who aren’t from Taiwan, so I’ll offer an introduction to some of the most important of the ‘Cut Porcelain’ decorative elements.

The Three Stars (三星 / 福祿壽)

One of the more common roof-decorations you’ll find in Taiwan are the depictions of the three elderly figures at the top-center of a swallowtail roof. Known as the ‘Sanxing’ (三星), which is literally translated as the ‘three stars’, you might also hear them referred to as ‘Fulushou’ (福祿壽), a Mandarin play-on words for ‘Fortune’, ‘Longevity’ and ‘Prosperity’.

In this case, Fu (福), Lu (祿), and Shou (壽) appear as human-like figures and are regarded as the masters of the three most important celestial bodies in Chinese astrology, Jupiter, Ursa Major and Canopus. When you see the ‘Sanxing’ on top of a temple, they appear as three bearded wise men. Coincidentally they might also look a bit familiar to the average observer as ‘Fuxing’ (福星) is depicted as Yang Cheng (楊成), a historic figure from the Tang Dynasty, while ‘Luxing’ (綠星) is represented by the ‘God of Literature’ (文昌帝君), and Shouxing (壽星), who is represented by Laozi (老子), the founder of Taoism.

Within Chinese iconography, these ‘three wise men’ are quite common, and their images can be found throughout China, Vietnam and South East Asia. Here in Taiwan, you’ll most often find them adorning the apex of a Taoist or Taiwanese Folk Religion Temple.

The Double-Dragon Pagoda (雙龍寶塔)

Known by a number of names in both Mandarin and English, the ‘Double-Dragon Pagoda’ (雙龍寶塔) or the ‘Double Dragon Prayer Hall’ (雙龍拜塔) is essentially a multi-layered pagoda that is similarly placed at the top-center of a Buddhist temple, or a mixed Buddhist-Taiwanese folk-religion place of worship.

As usual, while acting as a decorative element, the pagoda also represents a number of important themes - it is used as a method of ‘warding off evil spirits’ and for disaster prevention, in addition to representing both filial piety and virtue. For Buddhists in particular, pagodas have been important buildings with regard to the safe-keeping of sacred texts, so having the dual dragons encircling the pagoda in this way can also be interpreted as ‘protecting the Buddha’ or ‘precious things’.

Whenever you encounter a temple with one of these Double-Dragon Pagodas, if you look closely, the pagoda will have several levels, with two green dragons on either side, or encircling it. In Mandarin, there’s a popular idiom that says “It is better to save a life than to build a seven-level pagoda” (救人一命、勝造七級浮屠), so having the dragons protecting the pagoda speaks to the salvation one might receive while visiting the temple as it is protected by dragons from the heavens. That being said, the number of levels you see on the pagoda is also quite important as the number of levels indicates the rank of the deity enshrined within the temple.

Double-Dragon Clutching Pearls (雙龍搶珠)

One of the other common images depicted in the center of a roof of a temple is the ubiquitous ‘Double-Dragon Clutching Pearls’ design. However, unlike the two mentioned above, when it comes to the dragons clutching pearls, there is a wide variation of designs, so even though it’s a common theme found on Taoist places of worship, you may not encounter the exact same design very often. Nevertheless, no matter how they might vary in appearance, what always remains the same is that there will be a glowing red pearl in the middle with dragons on either side.

Originating from an ancient folklore story, the image of two dragons surrounding a pearl is something that you’ll find not only on temples like this, but in paintings, carved in jade, and various other forms of artwork.

The origin of the story is a long one, so I’ll try my best to briefly summarize how the image became popularized - essentially, a long time ago, a group of fairies were attacked by a demon while resting near a sacred pond only to be saved by a pair of green dragons. When the ‘Queen Mother of the West’ (王母娘娘) heard about this, she gifted the two dragons with a golden pearl that would grant one of them immortality.

Neither of the dragons wanted to take the pearl, showing great humility to each other, so after a while the Jade Emperor (玉皇) gifted them a second pearl. Afterwards, the dragons devoted their immortality to helping others, and used their power to send wind and rain to assist with the harvest.

Thus, when it comes to this particular image, what you’ll want to keep in mind is that they are meant to highlight themes of ‘harmony’, ‘prosperity’, ‘humility’, ’good luck’ and the ‘pursuit of a better life,’ which makes them a perfect addition to a place of worship.

Dragons and Aoyu (雙龍 / 鰲魚)

In addition to being featured at the top-center of a roof, you’ll also find cut-porcelain depictions of dragons located in various other locations on the exterior of a Hokkien-style building. By this point, I’d only be repeating myself if I went into great detail about the purpose of the dragons, but it’s important to note that the ‘dragon’ is something that is synonymous with traditional Chinese culture, and given that people of Chinese ethnic origin consider themselves to be ‘descendants of the dragon’ (龍的傳人), and the emperors themselves regarded as reincarnations of dragons, they are particularly important within the cultural iconography of the greater-China region.

In the English-language, dragons are merely dragons, but in Mandarin, there are a multitude of names to describe these mythical creatures in their various forms. Similarly, for most westerners, dragons are regarded as fire-breathing monsters, but within Chinese culture, their roles are completely reversed. Dragons are noted for their power over water and nature, and instead of being aggressive creatures that bring about death and destruction, they’re known for their good deeds.

Most commonly found adorning the main ridge and at both of the ends, the cut-porcelain depictions of dragons that you’ll encounter on roofs in Taiwan are often the most complex decorative elements on a building and are meant to symbolize power, enlightenment and protection, especially with regard to their ability to prevent fire. The most common dragon that you’ll find adorning the roofs of Taiwan’s places of worship are of the ‘hornless-dragon mouth’ or ‘chiwen’ (鴟吻) variety. Translated literally as ‘owl mouth’, this type of dragon is known as one of the ‘Nine Dragons’ (九龍), each of which are known for specific protective functions. In this case, ‘chiwen’ dragons are known for their affinity for swallowing things, especially fire. They’re depicted as hornless dragons, with fish-like, truncated bodies, large wide-open mouths, and colorful scale-like spikes all over their bodies.

That being said, if you look closely at the ‘dragons’ that adorn the top of temple roofs, you might notice that they’re not always of the ‘chiwen’ variety and are often a complex fusion of other mythical creatures. While these creatures almost always appear with a dragon’s head, fooling most people, you’ll find that they may also feature the body of a phoenix, tortoise, horse, etc.

Similarly, sometimes what you might think is a dragon actually isn’t a dragon at all.

Which to tell the truth, can often be quite confusing if you’re not adept at examining the finer details of these decorative elements.

Even though these other creatures appear dragon-like, especially with regard to the ‘chiwen’ variety, its very likely that you’ve encountered another common variety of Hokkien cut-porcelain decorative elements. Depicting a mythical creature known as an “Aoyu” (鰲魚), these creatures feature a dragon head and animal body fusion. An ‘Aoyu’ is basically a ‘carp’ that is in the process of transforming into a dragon. With one foot in the door regard to the transformation process, an Aoyu features the head of a dragon, but maintains the body of a fish. Similar to the role that the chiwen play, you’ll often find Aoyu featured on both of the ends of the roof’s ridge as they’re likewise known for their ability to ‘swallow fire and spit water’ meaning that they’re also there to offer protection to the temple.

Of all the cut-porcelain art that you’ll find decorating places of worship in Taiwan, you’ll probably notice that the dragons are often the most complex in terms of their design and the attention to detail that goes into crafting their images. The complexity of the dragon’s head and the spiky-scales on their bodies require a tremendous amount of work, which should highlight just how important they are.

Cut-Porcelain Decorative Murals

While the larger cut-porcelain decorative elements are much easier to identify, you’ll also notice that there are smaller, yet very elaborate mural-like decorations located along the roof’s main ridge, on the ridge platform and on the lower sections of the roof. Even though almost every place of worship in Taiwan features these types of murals, they are often quite small, and you have to look very carefully to actually identify them. If you find yourself traveling the country with a local friend, unless they’re a temple experts, it’s safe to say they won’t be much help in identify what story these murals are depicting, which is part of the reason why these things can be so confusing. If you find yourself really interested in knowing exactly what was going on, you’d be better off asking one of the temple volunteers inside, or trying to find the information online.

Even though there is a wide variation of stories that each of these murals depict, they generally illustrate the following themes: Mythology (神話), events from the Investiture of the Gods (封神演義), events from the Spring and Autumn Period (春秋時期), events from the Chu–Han War (楚漢戰爭), events from the Romance of the Three Kingdoms (三國演義), events from the Journey to the West (西遊記), Buddhist stories (佛的故事), and finally, Taiwanese Folklore Stories (台灣神明傳說).

To highlight the complexity of identifying what these murals depict, if I use the ‘Romance of the Three Kingdoms’ as an example, the novel is over 800,000 words long, features 120 chapters, and more than a thousand characters. So, even if someone tells you that the mural is depicting a story from the novel, you’d have to be quite well-versed in Chinese Classics to be able to identify the specific event.

However, when it comes to the local stories that you’ll find depicted on these buildings, you’re going to find murals depicting events in the lives of the most popular religious figures in Taiwan, and those that hail from the Hokkien homeland. Some of these stories are likely to include: Mazu conquering Thousand-Mile-Eye and Wind-Following Ear (媽祖收千順二將軍), Mazu Assisting Koxinga (媽祖幫助鄭成功), Tangshan Crosses the Taiwan Strait (唐山過臺灣), the Eight Immortals Depart and Travel to the East (八仙出處東遊記), the Eight Immortals Cross the Sea (八仙過海), etc. Similarly, it’s important to note that while these events are often depicted with the help of Hokkien cut-porcelain art, you’ll also find them carved into wood, painted on walls, and carved in stone.

If you’ve ever seen a Lonely Planet, or any travel guide about Taiwan for that matter, its very likely that you’ve seen a photo of one of a cut-porcelain dragon in the foreground with Taipei 101 in the background. While it may seem cliche at this point, the mixture of these two elements helps to illustrate both the traditional and modern fusion of contemporary life in Taiwan today.

The Hokkien people make up an estimated seventy-five percent of Taiwan’s population today, so even though it may seem like they are the predominant cultural force on the island, its also important to remember that the modifications that have been made to their style of design over the years have adapted elements of Taiwan’s other cultural groups, including the island’s Indigenous people, the Hakka’s, etc.

What you’ll see in Taiwan today, while similar to that of Southern Fujian is a style of architectural design that has been refined to meet the needs of the people of Taiwan, and thus, no matter where you fall on the argument of ‘Hokkien vs. Taiwanese’, it goes without saying that this style of design has become ubiquitous as an aspect of the cultural identity of the Taiwanese nation today.

Obviously, as I mentioned earlier, this article is only touching on the top of the iceberg when it comes to this topic. Sadly, it remains a topic that isn’t widely accessible in the English-language, and information tends to be hard to come by. Still, I hope it helps clear up any questions any of you may have with regard to what you’re seeing when you visit a temple or historic building in Taiwan during your travels. If not, feel free to leave a comment, or send an email, and I’ll do my best to answer any other questions you may have.

References

  1. Taiwanese Hokkien | 臺灣話 (Wiki)

  2. Hokkien culture | 閩南文化 (Wiki)

  3. Hokkien Architecture | 闽南传统建筑 (Wiki)

  4. Architecture of Taiwan | 臺灣建築 (Wiki)

  5. 剪瓷雕 | 燕尾脊 (Wiki)

  6. 台灣建築裡的秘密:從天后宮到行天宮,每間寺廟都是活生生的台灣移民史 (Buzz Orange)

  7. 極具特色的北方歇山式屋頂 ,硬山與廡殿式的結合,仙人騎鶴帶頭鎮守 (廟宇藝術)

  8. 台灣傳統民居簡介 (文山社區大學)

  9. 最常見的動物裝飾 (老古板的古建築之旅)

  10. 台灣民間信仰 (Wiki)


Jiantian Historic Temple (劍潭古寺)

No matter where you go in Taiwan, it’s highly likely that you’ll encounter a 7-11 or a temple along the way - finding either is about as simple as finding a cup of coffee, and when you’re a tourist, you’re blessed with a multitude of choices to compete for your precious, but limited travel time.

For most people, visiting one or two of what are considered Taipei’s ‘Top Three’ temples is more than enough ‘temple-time’ during a short visit to Taiwan, but there are a number of impressive places of worship in the capital, as well as around the country, where tourists can spend time learning more about the history and culture of this country than they ever will in most of its museums.

I’ve been writing about Taiwan for almost a decade now, and even though I’ve spent a considerable amount of time recommending that people travel outside of the capital in order to better understand, and enjoy all that this beautiful country has to offer, it’s also important to face the fact that not every tourist has the opportunity, or the time to make their way down south. So even though I’d personally highly recommend anyone who visits Taiwan to pay a visit to Tainan’s Confucius Temple, its Grand Mazu Temple or Lukang’s Longshan Temple over most of the places of worship on the ‘Top Three’ list above, like I said, not everyone has the ability to leave Taipei.

Fortunately, there are a number of historic places of worship within the Greater-Taipei area that wonderfully compliment the city’s so-called ‘Top Three’ temples, so if you’ve discovered, like I have, an interest in visiting this sort of destination, here are some of the others I recommend checking out while you’re in town:

Today, I’m going to introduce another one of the city’s more prominent places of worship, and one that should be on your list of places to visit if you have some extra time while you’re in town. Boasting a history that is arguably longer than any other place of worship in Taipei, there’s certainly something special about this temple, but to tell the truth, it’s also somewhat of a confusing place as even locals have a difficult time understanding its significance.

Most commonly referred to either as Jiantan Temple (劍潭寺), or Jiantan Historic Temple (劍潭古寺), what I personally find interesting about this temple is the addition of the word “ancient” or “historic” (古) to its title in both Chinese and in English. There are surprisingly very few places of worship in Taiwan that make the concerted effort to put the word ‘historic’ directly in their name - although in some cases I think they’d prefer you just assume that’s the case - nevertheless, as one of Taipei’s ‘first’ places of worship, this one holds a special place within the history of the city.

The other thing that I think is important to point out about the name of this temple is the name ‘Jiantan’ (劍潭), which is probably confusing for tourists who might not be so familiar with Taipei’s geography. These days, the name ‘Jiantan’ is more or less synonymous with the Jiantan MRT Station (劍潭捷運站), which is home to Shilin Night Market (士林夜市), another one of Taipei’s most popular tourist destinations. Unfortunately, if you’re thinking that a visit to this temple could be combined with a visit to the night market, you might be disappointed. It’s actually not that close.

Never fear, though, as I move on below, I’ll provide a detailed explanation of the temple’s confusing history, how you can get there, all of which should help anyone who reads this better understand the temple, its special architectural design, and ultimately the history of the area we refer to as ‘Jiantan’ today. Before I start though, I have to say that even though this temple is one of the city’s oldest places of worship, it unfortunately doesn’t receive as much attention as it deserves, and very little has been written about it in the English-language, so I hope this article answers any questions you might have about it.

Jiantan Temple (劍潭古寺)

Legend has it that during the 17th Century, while Koxinga (鄭成功) and his army were sailing up the Keelung River, on their way to remove the Dutch from the island, they came upon a sudden and massive storm caused by river serpents. Attempting to prevent them from going any further, the storm was so violent that many in the army wanted to turn around. Koxinga, being the ever-so-clever pirate and experienced captain, was undeterred by the serpent’s interference in his plans, drew his sword and subdued the serpent. However, while in the midst of the fierce battle, his ‘sword’ was lost in the deep pool of water where the serpent lived.

For those of you who are unaware, the words “jian” (劍) and “tan" (潭) when put together basically translate as “Sword Pool” or “Sword Pond,” so even though the Koxinga legend is just local folklore, he was such a prolific figure in Taiwan’s history that a story about him mistakenly dropping his sword into a pool of water was reason enough to give a place a name.

Obviously, when it comes to the origin of the name, historians point to factual events that took place between Dutch traders, and the local indigenous people, but with regard to this temple, the legend of Koxinga is of particular note as you’ll discover later.

Its important to note that there was once a pond along the banks of the Keelung River that had been referred to as “Jiantan” for several hundred years. Located at a point of the river where the it curves between the areas we know today as Dazhi (大直) and Shilin (士林), that pond has since disappeared due to river diversion projects that sought to control water levels and prevent parts of the city from flooding during typhoons.

Today, the area we refer to as Jiantan covers several hundred hectares of land within the city, and even has a mountain that shares the same name.

Link: Jiantan Mountain (劍潭山)

Jiantan Temple during the Japanese-era

If one legend weren’t enough, another explains that in 1634 (崇禎7年), a monk named Huarong (僧侶華榮和尚) was dispatched from his monastery on Putuo Mountain (普陀山) to deliver a stone statue of Guanyin to Taiwan. Arriving in Taiwan at the port in Tamsui (淡水), he continued south on the road to Keelung (基隆), but along the path he encountered a massive red snake that was blocking the way. Personally, I’m not particularly a huge fan of snakes, and if I encountered one while hiking in Taiwan, I’d likely turn around, but for Huarong, this was deemed as an auspicious event.

Note: The number ‘eight’ is an auspicious number for Buddhists, referring to either the Dharma Wheel (法陀) or the Eight Great Bodhisattvas.

Instead of taking off like I would have done, he set up camp for the night where the Buddha appeared before him in his dreams and instructed him to go to the local port (probably in Bangka), and solicit donations from eight merchant captains. When he woke up, he made his way to the port where he came across the eight ships in his dream and when the merchants on the ships heard his story, they donated graciously to his cause. With the money donated by the local merchants, Huarong had a thatched hut built on the location where he came across the red snake, and that became the home of the Guanyin Statue, instead of its original destination in Keelung.

Later, in the early eighteenth century, the thatched hut, which had become known as the Guanyin Pavilion (觀音亭) was replaced by a more formal temple, known as the “Western Temple” (西方寶剎). That name, however, wasn’t one that would remain for very long as the temple was renamed Jiantan Temple (劍潭寺) in 1746 (乾隆11年).

Over the next century, Jiantan Temple became one of the more prominent Buddhist temples in northern Taiwan, resulting in a number of restoration and expansion projects to accommodate the number of monks who came to serve at the temple. Then, when the abbot of the Bangka Longshan Temple (艋舺龍山寺) took administrative control of the temple, he once again oversaw another expansion project that would not only benefit Jiantan Temple, but Longshan Temple as well with monks being able to travel back and forth between two of northern Taiwan’s most important temples.

For the next half century, things more or less stayed the same at the temple, but when the Japanese took control of Taiwan in 1895 (明治28年), the situation changed almost overnight. When the Governor General of Taiwan, Kodama Gentaro (兒玉源太郎) requested monks from the Rinzai school (臨濟宗) of Zen Buddhism to come to Taiwan to promote Japanese Buddhism, the influence of Japanese-style Buddhism started taking over on the island, and Jiantan Temple was promptly converted into a Myoshin Temple (妙心寺).

Link: Huguo Rinzai Temple (臨濟護國禪寺)

The interesting thing to keep in mind was that during the Meiji Restoration (明治維新), which started decades before the Japanese took control of Taiwan, Buddhism was classified by the government as a source of foreign interference. It was during this time that the more than a thousand year old tradition of fusion between Buddhism and Shinto were forcibly separated with the Buddhist temples that were constructed next to Shinto Shrines torn down. Here in Taiwan, though, Buddhism, had a long established a foothold on the island thanks to places of worship like Jiantan Temple, thus they became one of the tools that the Japanese authorities used to help bring the two peoples together.

Ironic given that Buddhism was suppressed back in Japan.

From the outset, the Japanese brought Buddhist monks with them to serve roles within the military as ‘chaplain-missionaries’, offering spiritual guidance during the initial years of the occupation. In addition to serving the military, the monks began to construct language schools and charity hospitals where they would focus on improving the lives of average Taiwanese citizens as well as promoting Japanese-style Buddhism. Over the next few decades, the temple continued to grow, and between 1918 and 1924, the temple was completely reconstructed, making use of modern construction techniques to ensure its longevity. The irony however was that just over a decade after the rebuild was completed, the temple was then forced to relocate due to an expansion project at the Taiwan Grand Shrine (臺灣神宮), which was also located on Jiantan Mountain (劍潭山) to the rear of the temple.

With insufficient funds available for the construction of a new temple, the administration came up with a plan to have the buildings completely deconstructed, and then reconstructed with the materials that could be salvaged in a new location. Migrating several kilometers away to the Dazhi (大直) area, the temple was carefully put back together again. However, the new plot of land that was allocated for the temple wasn’t nearly as larger as the original space, so alterations had to be made, and as you may have noticed from the historic photo above, it is considerably smaller today.

In its current location for nearly a century, Jiantan has been restored several times, repairing elements of the temple that have allowed it to remain intact while also bringing it back to life by refining the building’s decorative elements which were once its defining features.

As one of Taipei’s first major places of worship, predating many of the capital’s other major temples, Jiantan Temple has a long and storied history and while it’s not uncommon for places of worship to be moved to a new location, the experience of deconstructing the temple and sending putting it back together in another location is reminiscent of the nearby Lin An Tai Mansion (林安泰古厝), which had a similar experience.

In 2004 (民國93年), Jiantan Temple was officially recognized by the Taipei City Government under the Cultural Heritage Preservation Act (文化資產保存法) as a protected heritage building (歷史建築).

Link: 臺北市歷史建築列表 (List of Taipei City Protected Heritage Buildings)

Whether you refer to this temple as Jiantan Temple (劍潭寺) or Jiantan Ancient Temple (劍潭古寺), it’s up to you, but one of the things that sets this one apart from many of the other historic temples around Taipei is that it features a little park where it proudly displays its history. Some of the objects within the park, mostly stone tablets and pillars are things that you probably won’t see anywhere else in the capital, but are much more common in Tainan where historic temples are found on almost every street corner. If you visit the temple, I highly recommend you take some time to check out some of the objects on display, even though they are admittedly pretty old and in some cases the words that have been etched on the stone have started to fade.

Deities Enshrined at Jiantan Temple

As you saw from the history detailed above, from the outset, Jiantian Temple was dedicated to Guanyin (觀音), the Chinese version of Avalokiteśvara, the Buddha of Compassion. With a statue brought directly from Putuo Mountain (普陀山), one of China’s four sacred Buddhist mountains, it shouldn’t be much of a surprise to anyone that the figures enshrined within the temple are for the most part, Buddhist. That being said, similar to what you’ll experience if you visit Bangka’s Longshan Temple, which is also primarily a Buddhist place of worship, over the years, figures from Chinese folk religion have been added over the years to the shrine. In Taiwan, this is something that has become quite common, so within the temple you’ll also find shrines dedicated to ‘deities’ who you won’t traditionally find in Buddhist temples elsewhere, especially in other countries where Buddhism is the predominant religion.

  • Guanyin (觀世音菩薩) - As noted earlier, Jiantan Temple was (historically) dedicated primarily to the Buddha of Compassion, Guanyin (觀音), one of the most prolific Buddhist figures in Taiwan. Within the shrine room, you’ll find several different statues dedicated to different incarnations of Guanyin, with two large statues of a sitting Guanyin on either side of the main shrine. The original statue has since been moved to a new location within the main shrine and is somewhat difficult to see amongst the crowd of Buddhist figures in the main shrine. The most important difference between the various statues of Guanyin is that the original is regarded as a ‘Child-Bearing Guanyin’ (送子觀音). In front of the historic statue, you’ll find a version of a sitting Guanyin and as is usually the case, she is accompanied by her two acolytes, a pair of children who went to her side while she was meditating at Mount Putuo, Longnu (龍女) and Shancai (善財童子).

  • Shakyamuni Buddha (釋迦牟尼) - In one of the most recent changes to the ‘ancient’ temple, a statue of Shakyamuni Buddha was added to the main shrine in the post-war period. The jade statue was added shortly after the Foguangshan Organization took over administrative control of the temple, which is something I’ll talk briefly about below. The statue holds a ‘seal’ (降魔印) for subjugating demons. The interesting thing about the statue is that its appearance isn’t typical for a Chinese-style Buddha statue. It appears more as if it came from South East Asia, more specifically the Myanmar area. It possibly came to Taiwan with Chinese refugees from the Yunnan region, but I’m not particularly sure about its origin. During my visit to the temple, I inquired about the design of the statue, and the person who I was talking to was surprised that I could tell the difference between an image of the Buddha from Myanmar compared to one that you’d typically find in Taiwan, but the explanation I received as to its origin wasn’t particularly convincing, and its likely that there were some politics involved that they didn’t really want to mention.

  • The Prince of Yanping (延平郡王) - Looking back to the legends of the naming of Jiantan, you might remember that one of the local folklore stories claims that Koxinga (鄭成功) threw his sword into the pond to dispatch a violent serpent that was preventing them from advancing. What I didn’t mention was that Koxinga would later go on to defeat the Dutch and proclaim a kingdom of his own in the south of Taiwan, known as the Kingdom of Tungning. Given that Koxinga’s legend shares a relationship with the local area, and his being deified in Taiwan after his death, it shouldn’t be a big surprise that there is a shrine dedicated in his honor at the temple. When you find a shrine dedicated to Koxinga in Taiwan, he’ll either be referred to as the Prince of Yanping (延平郡王), a title bestowed upon him by a Ming Emperor, or Kaishan Shengwang (開山聖王). Interestingly, if you climb Jiantan Mountain to the rear of the temple, you’ll find an entire temple dedicated to Koxinga, known as the Taipei Koxinga Temple (成功廟開臺聖王).

  • The Eighteen Arhats (十八羅漢) - On either side of the Main Hall, you’ll find wood-carved representations of the ‘Eighteen Arhats’, who are basically like the twelve disciples of Jesus. The original followers of the Buddha, the ‘Arthats’ are figures each of whom has attained enlightenment, but have dedicated their lives to being reincarnated on earth until everyone attains enlightenment. A common image in Taiwan, you’ll find nine of the arhats on each side of the shrine, and each of them appears quite differently, so you might want to take a moment to look at them as they are all interesting characters.

With regard to the statues in the shrine room, there has been somewhat of an unresolved controversy in recent years as the administration of the temple is now overseen by the large and powerful Foguangshan (佛光山) organization. The controversy revolves around a differing outlook between the followers of the original temple and the new organization that took over. Long story short, the main shrine was originally dedicated to Guanyin, but it was adjusted to provide a seat to the Shakyamuni Buddha, instead.

The historic statue of Guanyin was thus moved to a level below the Buddha, which, angered the followers of the temple. Likewise, some of the other statues of Guanyin that were originally in the temple were moved outside of the temple where they would get rained on and polluted from dirty air.

In the time since the controversy, which made headlines across the country, changes have been made to bring the statues of Guanyin back inside the temple, but the main shrine continues to place the Buddha in the main seat, which doesn’t particularly reflect the history of the temple.

Link: 主神換位 劍潭古寺主位觀音變佛陀 (TVBS)

Jiantan Ancient Temple Timeline

Obviously, Jiantan Temple couldn’t be considered an “ancient” temple if it didn’t have a long history. As one of the first Buddhist places of worship in Taipei, there is clearly a long and interconnected history that coincides with the development of Taiwan’s capital into the high-tech economic powerhouse that it is today. That being said, the history of the temple tends to be a little confusing, and not very well detailed in either Chinese or English. I’ve done my best to put together a list of events with regard to the temple’s history that should give readers an idea of the timeline of events over the past three centuries of its history.

Click the dropdown below to read more:

  • •1634 (崇禎7年) - Buddhist Monk Huarong (僧侶華榮和尚), travels to Taiwan from his monastery on the famed Putuo Mountain (普陀山) to welcome a stone statue of Guanyin to the island.

    •1718 (康熙57年) - A Buddhist temple named the ‘Western Temple’ (西方寶剎) was established along the banks of the Keelung River with Jiantan Mountain to its rear.

    1746 (乾隆11年) - Jiantan Temple (劍潭寺) is officially established.

    1773 (乾隆38年) - The temple goes through its first period of restoration.

    1800 (家慶5年) - The temple goes through another period of restoration.

    1836 (道光17年) - The temple goes through a period of expansion, making space for an official residence for the monks who stayed on-site.

    1843 (道光24年) - The abbot of Longshan Temple in Bangka assumes administrative control over the temple, and materials are donated to once again expand and restore the grounds.

    1895 (明治28年) - The Japanese Empire takes control of Taiwan.

    1899 (明治32年) - During the Japanese era, the temple became a Myoshin Temple (妙心寺), part of the Rinzai Sect (臨濟宗) of Japanese Buddhism.

    1914 (大正3年) - The monks living at the temple initiate a fundraising campaign to have the temple reconstructed.

    1918 (大正7年) - With the fund raising campaign completed, famed craftsman Chen Yingbin (陳應彬) is contracted to oversee a complete overhaul and redesign of the temple.

    1924 (大正13年) - The reconstruction project on the temple is completed, with a brand new traditionally Chinese-style design fused with Japanese elements and construction techniques.

    1937 (昭和12年) - Shortly after the expensive reconstruction of the temple is completed, an expansion project at the nearby Taiwan Grand Shrine (台灣神宮) forces the temple to relocate to another location a short distance away. Due to a lack of funds, the temple is more or less deconstructed, and then reconstructed in its original location.

    1945 (民國34年) The Second World War comes to an end and the Republic of China takes control of Taiwan

    1978 (民國67年) - A restoration project takes place, repairing and restoring some of the aging elements of the temple, and replacing the roof tiles with Taiwanese-style yellow tiles (黃色琉璃瓦).

    2004 (民國93年) - The temple is officially recognized as a protected heritage building (歷史建築).

    2007 (民國96年) - A restoration project takes place that restores the shape and design of the roof to its original 1924 design and all of the original decorative elements are carefully reproduced to reflect the original appearance of the temple.

    2017 (民國106年) - A newly constructed Guanyin Shrine is consecrated within the temple.

Architectural Design

The story of Jiantan Temple’s architectural design is a bit of a complicated one, and is something that you may have noticed in the timeline above has been altered several times, throughout its three-century long history. Over the years, the temple has been renovated, expanded, restored, reduced in size, and ultimately moved to an entirely new location.

Fortunately, thanks to the dedication of Japanese-era photographers, we have a pretty good idea of how it originally appeared prior to its migration, as you’ll have seen in some of those photos above. I’m not going to spend too much of your time talking about the temple’s past glory, or what is missing. Instead, I’m only going to focus on what you’ll experience when you visit today, which itself is a beautiful place of worship, full of complex design and decorative elements, some of which are uncommon in Taipei today.

If we take into consideration that the temple migrated to its current location during the Japanese-era, you’ll also discover that even though it maintains many traditional Taiwanese temple features, it is also a case-study in the fusion of Taiwanese-Japanese design of the era, which makes it quite special.

As I mentioned earlier, when the temple was forced to migrate, they lacked the necessary funds to construct an entirely new building. Thus, it was decided that instead of demolishing the original temple that they would have it deconstructed as carefully as possible in order to recycle the original materials to bring it back to life. Unfortunately, due to a lack of space on the plot of land that was allocated to the temple, and the difficulty of deconstructing the original, the end-result was a temple that was considerably smaller than the original.

The current design retains much of the original wood and stone that was used to construct the temple, which have been recycled. The size of the building is officially measured in ‘bays’ (開間), an ancient style of measurement that you won’t see mentioned very often in Taiwan these days, except for at historic places of worship like this. Essentially a ‘bay’ was the space between columns that held up the roof. Generally-speaking that was about 3.6 meters in length. Using this method, Jiantan Temple is officially eleven bays in length (面寬十一開間), which makes it just about 40 meters (131 feet) wide.

Keeping with the traditional design of a Hokkien-style temple, the facade of Jiantan Temple resembles that of the Front Hall (前殿) at Lukang’s famed Longshan Temple (鹿港龍山寺) in that it features a ‘Five Door Hall” (五門殿) style of design. In this style of design, there is a central wing that features the temple’s three main doors, with separate ‘dragon’ and ‘tiger’ wings (龍虎翼廊) on either side. Both of the wings feature a Swallow-Tail Roof (燕尾屋脊), which are equal in height, while the central portion is much higher. This style of roof, which is indicative of Hokkien-style architectural design differs from the typical style of ‘hip-and-gable’ roof that you’ll find at many Chinese, Japanese or Korean-style Buddhist temples. Yet it is one of the most common styles of architectural design with regard to the historic temples, mansions and ancestral halls around Taiwan.

Essentially, a ‘Swallow-Tail Roof’ is a roof that features an upward-curving ridge, resembling the tail of a swallow, and is typically adorned with a number of decorative elements, which are most often porcelain carvings (剪瓷雕). Depending on the amount of cash you have available, and how much you want to show off your wealth, this style of roof could be either single or dual-layered to add even more complexity. In this particular case, you might think with the varying heights between the wings and the central portion of the building that it is dual-layered, but it’s actually only a single-layer roof as the roofs over the wings are independent of the other. Nevertheless, despite the curvature of each of the roofs being one of their key features, you’ll notice that the mid-section is the most prominent as the two wings only feature half-curves, and neither of them reach as high as the mid-section.

One area where the Hokkien-style Swallow-Tail roof resembles that of a hip-and-gable roof is that the roof eclipses the base of the building in size, extending well beyond the front of the building. Thus, to help support the weight of the roof, you’ll find a number of pillars used for support both within the interior and on the exterior as well. The most prominent of these support pillars are located on either side of the middle door, and are beautifully-carved stone dragons that encircle the columns.

Link: Hokkien Architecture (Wiki)

While the temple may seem somewhat subdued in its design from afar, the devil is really in its finer details as the closer you look, the more exquisite you’ll discover its decorative elements are thanks to the 2007 restoration work that went into the temple (mentioned on the timeline above). It was at this time that the yellow cylindrical bamboo-like tiles (燒筒板瓦) that covered the roof were completely replaced as were almost all of the cut-and-stick decorations (剪黏), which are integral to Hokkien-style design.

The newly-designed decorative elements were part of a long research project that ultimately restored the original elements that you would have found at the original temple, when it was still in its original location. In this case, the temple contracted Pan Kundi (潘坤地), a master craftsman who is most well-known for his contributions to the restoration of Dalongdong’s Bao-An Temple (大龍峒保安宮), a Taiwanese national treasure, and recognized by UNESCO for its contribution to the preservation of cultural heritage.

One of the problems that might arise when you visit the temple today is that the ‘finer details’ mentioned above are abundant, and you may find yourself spending quite a bit of time looking at the decorative elements on top of the ridges, between the ridges, and along the ends of each of the them and contemplating their meaning. Never fear, I’ll do my best to answer some of those questions with the help of my telephoto lens!

Starting with the more obvious design elements, you’ll notice the ‘Double Dragon Pagoda’ (雙龍寶塔) directly in the middle of the apex of the roof. This is a decorative element that is common at Buddhist temples, and represents a number of important things - First, it is used to ward off evil spirits and fire, but it also represents ‘filial piety’ and ‘virtue’. Another way of interpreting it is by explaining that ‘pagodas’ were traditionally buildings where Buddhist texts were kept, so having the dragons encircling the pagoda in this way is a way of ‘protecting the Buddha’ or ‘precious things’.

The next thing you’ll probably notice is that on each of the ridges, there is a dragon-like creature facing toward the pagoda. In fact, this creature is referred to as an “Aoyu” (鰲魚), and is basically a carp that is in the process of transforming into a dragon featuring the head of a dragon and the body of a fish. Similar to the Dragon-Pagoda’s nature of helping to ward off fire or other disasters, the Aoyu are known for their ability to ‘swallow fire and spit water’ meaning that they’re also there to offer protection to the temple.

Conveniently located just under the two Aoyu in the mid-section, you’ll find one of the ‘Four Heavenly Kings’ (四大天王) accompanying them. Known as important Buddhist figures with regard to ‘protection’, in Mandarin, the names of the kings go together to form the idiom “fēngtiáoyǔshùn” (風調雨順), or “seasonable weather with gentle breeze and timely rain,” and by this point you’re probably wondering just how often temples burn to the ground. With the amount of candles and incense that are burnt in these temples, it probably shouldn’t be too surprising that it does, unfortunately, happen from time to time.

Two of the four Heavenly Kings on the far left and right.

The design of each of the kings is slightly different, but its important to offer a bit of detail:

  1. Virulhaka (增長天王) - holding a jeweled double-edged sword

  2. Vessavana (多聞天王) - holding a jeweled umbrella

  3. Dhatarattha (持國天王) - holding a pipa (a traditional musical instrument)

  4. Virupakkha (廣目天王) - holding a dragon in his hand

Link: Four Heavenly Kings (Wiki)

Once again, looking carefully along the Xishi Ridge (西施脊), the flat part of the top ridge, you’ll find some pretty intricate decorative elements in the space between the Four Heavenly Kings. Directly under the Dragon Pagoda, there is a mural that depicts the folklore story of ‘Guanyin conquering the phoenix’ (老古板的古建築之旅). The story, which originated in the Song Dynasty (宋朝), is a popular one in Taiwan that has been converted into a Taiwanese opera, which is often performed outside of temples. In the story, “Dapeng” (大鵬金翅明王), the Chinese manifestation of the Hindu deity Garuda turned into a human and came to earth to wreak havoc, forcing Guanyin to appear to make an appearance and back him under control. Legends regarding the mythical ‘Dapeng Phoenix’ appear throughout Chinese history, but in most of the stories, one of the commonalities is that it is often subservient to the Buddha or Guanyin.

One thing that confused me, and sent me down a bit of a rabbit hole looking for information, were the five animals located below the Guanyin mural. It is common to find ‘four’ animals depicted in this particular space within Taiwan’s temples, known as the ‘Auspicious Four Beasts’ (四祥獸), most often represented as a Tiger, Leopard, Lion and Elephant (虎豹獅象) - just like the so-called ‘Four Beasts Mountains’ in Taipei. Once again, as with the other decorative elements discussed so far, the presence of the beasts is meant to help suppress evil spirits and protect the temple. In this case, however, there are ‘Five Auspicious Beasts’ thanks to the inclusion of a Qilin (麒麟), a mythical Chinese chimera.

Link: Four Beasts Hiking Trail (四獸山步道)

Swallow-Tail roofs not only feature an upward-curving ridge at the apex of the roof but also often have eaves that descend from the ridge to the lower section of the roof where you’ll find a platform for additional decorative elements. Known in Taiwanese as the ‘paitoh’ (牌頭), you’ll find another set of elaborate murals at the end of each of the roof’s eaves.

There are two murals in the mid-section, and another one on each of the ends of the eastern and western wings. Two of the murals depict events from the life of the Buddha, while the other two are related to Guanyin.

Speaking of the wings, they feature similar decorative elements along their ridges, but in both cases are a bit more subdued, with simple depictions of peonies (牡丹), phoenixes (鳳), qilin (麒麟) and peacocks (孔雀).

Link: Animals & Mythical Creatures (Buddhist Symbols)

Moving on from the roof, located directly in front of the middle door in the centre of the building, you’ll find a beautifully designed Tiangong Incense Cauldron (天公爐) that features the words ‘Taipei Jiantan Historic Temple’ (台北劍潭古寺) carved on the bowl. The design here is slightly different than what you’d see at other places of worship in Taiwan as it is quite narrow compared to the cauldrons you’ll find at other temples. What remains the same is that you’ll find 'dragons grabbing pearls’ (雙龍戲珠) on either side and an octagonal-covered roof with three legs that represent a ‘tiger’ (寅), ‘horse’ (午) and ‘dog’ (戌), which are considered the ‘triad of heaven, earth and man’ (天地人).

Note: The ‘double dragons grabbing pearls’ (雙龍戲珠) are part of an ancient Chinese-language idiom that symbolizes humanity’s constant pursuit of happiness. It has also become an important image with regard to weddings as the harmony between husband and wife and mutual respect, humility and tolerance.

On either side of the cauldron you’ll find the beautifully-carved traditional stone dragon pillars (龍柱) that I mentioned earlier. The pillars, which aren’t from the original temple, are thought to be a product of the early 1900s, although you won’t find a date carved on them to prove that. Still, they’re well over a century old and have recently been given a bit of restoration. Featuring dragons that encircle each of the pillars. You’ll also find depictions of people and animals walking along each of the dragon's backs.

Directly in front of the cauldron, you’ll find a stone-carved Dragon Ramp (龍陞) between the ground and the platform in front of the doors. Also referred to as a ‘Royal Ramp’ (御路), the sloping ramp is reserved for the passage of royalty, or for whenever one of the statues has to be moved outside of the temple. Even though Taiwan doesn’t have any royalty, and the only royals to have ever visited the country were from the Japanese imperial family, these sloping ramps are a common feature among the temples you’ll find across the country.

Another common feature that the temple shares with most other places of worship in Taiwan is that there is a name plaque located above the middle door. The beautifully inscribed plaque (牌匾) features the temple’s name scripted in calligraphy and obviously if you take a look at it, it’s in pretty good shape, but in this case you can see the date it was placed, which was in August of 1981 (民國70年8月).

Speaking of recent additions, the shrine is currently home to lacquered wooden sliding panels with golden latticed windows. The wood-carved latticed windows (木柵窗格) don’t actually look like typical ‘windows’, but they feature intricately carved floral designs with birds and peacocks.

Finally, if you find yourself standing on the platform by the central door, you’ll discover that there are some really intricate and beautifully hand-carved wooden figures (木雕) that are used to decorate the trusses and eaves that connect to the pillars, which are instrumental in working together to help to support the weight of the roof. The carvings, which feature lions and murals, like the lattice windows below are all painted gold and make the exterior of the temple much more beautiful.

Before I move on to briefly describing the interior of the temple, I think it’s important to note that if you search for images of the temple online, you’re going to notice a stark difference between some of the photos you’ll find.

Prior to 2007, the temple looked considerably different, and very much more ‘plain’ that what you’ll see today. As I mentioned earlier, the design of the roof was completely changed to reflect the temple’s original design and it was during that restoration project that most of the decorative elements that I’ve described above were added. Given that the master craftsman mentioned above is known for not only his skills with traditional Hokkien cut-porcelain carvings (剪瓷雕), but also his wood-carving skills, it’s safe to say that all of the decorative elements that we enjoy today are thanks to his genius and hard work.

I won’t spend too much describing the interior of the temple, simply due to the fact that Hokkien-style Buddhist temples place an incredible amount of detail on the decorative elements of the exterior of the building while the interior is much more subtle. That being said, it has to be mentioned that, like the Lukang Longshan Temple, the temple features a beautifully designed ‘caisson’ (八卦藻井) in the main shrine room. Also known as a “Ba-Gua ceiling,” it would be an understatement to say that it is a masterpiece of architectural design. Octagonal in shape, each side of the caisson symbolizes eight symbols in Taoism that represent the fundamental principles of reality.

Somewhat difficult to describe properly, a caisson is basically a sunken layered panel in a ceiling that raises above the rest of the ceiling almost as if there were a dome above it. The layers of the caisson are often beautifully decorated and with a design at the center which in this case is just a painted flower that has a lamp hanging from the middle.

The most amazing thing to keep in mind about these caissons is that they are designed using expertly measured interlocking pieces that connect together in a way that means that neither beams nor nails are used to keep them in place. They simply lock together to form a six-layer deep spider-web of beauty. It takes a considerable amount of skill and patience to make one of these, so if you visit, one of the first things the people at the temple will do is make sure you take note of it.

As mentioned above, the interior of the temple is split into three sections with the main shrine in the middle. The wing to the left of the main shrine room is used for administrative purposes while the wing on the right is home to the Koxinga Shrine. The passage ways from both of the wings feature a couple of objects that should be noted. First, on the left wing, you’ll find a drum hanging within the passageway while on the right wing you’ll find a large stone bell, both of which are common within Buddhist temples as a way of indicating the time, attracting crowds, and announcing the beginning of preaching.

Finally, one last thing I’d like to point out is the ‘Dragon Altar’ (案桌) in the middle of the shrine - the altar features a painted dragon with the words ‘Jiantan Buddha’ (劍潭佛祖) on it. Likely one of the oldest parts of the current temple (save for the Guanyin statue), the altar dates back to the reign of Emperor Daoguang (道光) of the Qing Dynasty, placing it somewhere between 1821 and 1850. On either side of the altar, you’ll find some stone pillars with calligraphy engraved on each of them. Speaking to the history of the temple, they tell a story of how the migration of the temple to its current location wasn’t an optimal decision, but was forced upon them by the Japanese. I’d attempt to translate the text, but I have to admit that its beyond my level. Nevertheless, the sentiment is a bit salty.

The text is provided below for anyone interested:

Note:「寶劍劫灰塵爐火重新光大直,澄潭涵法雨川流終古擁觀音」and「庚辰劍潭古寺移築大直」

Getting There

 

Address: #6, Alley 805, Bei-An Road, Zhongshan District, Taipei

(臺北市中山區北安路805巷6號)

GPS: 25.085910, 121.554330

Conveniently located a short walk from an MRT station, visiting the Jiantan Historic Temple is actually quite straightforward, and is easily accessible for any tourist who’d like to visit. That being said, there are faster options than the MRT if you’re taking public transportation, so I’ll provide directions for both the MRT and the bus routes that will get you there below.

MRT

Located across the Keelung River from Taipei in Neihu’s Dazhi (大直) neighborhood, taking the MRT is obviously one of the most convenient methods of getting to the temple. That being said, even though the MRT drops you off pretty much at the temple’s doorsteps, its convenience doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s the quickest way to get there as the Brown Line trains are considerably slower than the normal underground MRT, and you’ll likely have to pass by Songshan Airport on your way there.

Nevertheless, if your preferred method of transportation is to take the MRT, simply get yourself on the Brown Line either at Zhongxiao Fuxing (忠孝復興) or Nanjing Fuxing (南京復興), heading in the direction of Nangang Station (南港捷運站). Getting off the train at Jiannan Road Station (劍南路捷運站), you’ll take Exit #1 and walk straight along Beian Road (北安路) where you’ll notice Jingye Park (敬業公園) on your right and the temple about a minute away on the left.

Bus

Similarly, given that the Jiannan Road MRT Station is located next to the Miramar Shopping Mall (美麗華百樂園), famed for its giant roof-top ferris wheel, there are a number of bus routes that will help you get there just as easily as the MRT. The closest bus stop to the temple is the Jiannan Road Stop (捷運劍南路站), directly in front of the MRT Station, so if you end up taking a bus, the walking route to the temple follows the same route.

Given the popularity of the Miramar Shopping Center, there are far too many bus routes that service this bus stop, and since Internet links for these things in Taiwan are notoriously unstable, I’m not going going to link to each of the routes individually here. I highly recommend travelers make use of the Taipei eBus website, or download the Bus Tracker Taipei app on your phone (Android | iOS) or use the Real-Time Bus Tracking service offered on the eBus website.

Here are the following routes that service the Jiannan Road Stop: Neihu Express Line (內湖幹線), Red #3 (紅3), Blue #26 (藍26), #28, #33, #42, #72, #208, #222, #247, #256, #267, #268, #287, #556, #620, #646, #681, #683, #902, #957, #1801

Youbike

If you’re feeling adventurous, you can easily hop on one of Taipei’s convenient shared Youbikes and make your way along the Keelung River all the way to Dazhi where you’ll be able to park the bike in front of the Jiannan Road MRT Station and make your way to the temple. If you’d like to make use of a Youbike, one of the best routes would be to grab a bike at the Yuanshan MRT Station (圓山捷運站), and make your way along the Dajia Riverside Park (大家河濱公園) where you’ll cross the pedestrian section of the Dazhi Bridge (大直橋), and from there making your way toward the Jiannan Road Station. There are of course a number of routes that you could take to get there, though, so I recommend opening up Google Maps on your phone and mapping out a bike route from wherever you’re starting from!

If you haven’t already, I highly recommend downloading the Youbike App to your phone so that you’ll have a better idea of the location where you’ll be able to find the closest docking station.

Link: Youbike App - Apple / Android

To be frank, I don’t really spend very much time in the Neihu area of Taipei. I’ve visited most of Taipei’s most important places of worship over the years, but this temple was one that I’ve always had on my list, but took quite a while to actually get around to. It’s not that I didn’t think it was important, or that it should be high on the list of places that people should visit when they’re in town, I just personally only find myself in that area when I’m hiking along the Jiantan Mountain ridge. Nevertheless, if you find yourself in the city and the temples are of particular interest to you, I highly recommend checking out some of those listed above, and if you’ve still got time left, head over to this one to check it out as well!

I suppose that doesn’t particularly sound like a rousing endorsement of the temple, but I’m not sure how much appeals to most short-term tourists. I have to say, though, that the temple was a lot more beautiful than I expected, and if the photos in this article are any indication, you’re in for a treat if you visit, especially since its a much more quiet place of reflection than some of the other major temples that tourists visit.

References

  1. 劍潭古寺 (Wiki)

  2. 劍潭 (Wiki)

  3. 劍潭寺 | Jiantan Temple (台灣宗教文化地圖)

  4. 劍潭寺 (國家文化資產網)

  5. 劍潭古寺 (台灣好廟網)

  6. 劍潭古寺 (Tony的自然人文旅記)

  7. 巴字第974號:劍潭古寺 (地球上的火星人)

  8. 中山區 劍潭古寺 — 隱身於熱鬧商場旁之臺北盆地最早古剎,有段被迫搬遷的過往 (Mobile01)

  9. 剪黏藝術欣賞(五) 劍潭古寺 (老古板的古建築之旅)

  10. 劍潭古寺 (淡水維基館)

  11. Jiantan Temple (Travel Taipei)

  12. Hokkien architecture | 闽南传统建筑 (Wiki)