宮廟

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)


Nishi Honganji Square (西本願寺廣場)

Walking around Taipei’s Ximending Shopping, have you ever come across the random bell tower on the side of the road? If so, you might have asked yourself: “What’s the deal with that Japanese-looking thing in one of the city’s hippest urban areas?” Today, I’m here to answer that question, and possibly any others you might have about this piece of the city’s history.

Suffice to say, ‘Ximending’ (西門町), might never have become the popular place it is today without these buildings, and the urban development that came with them. So, in this article, I’m going to focus on the modern history of Ximen, introduce the building which was once located next to the bell tower, and the park that exists there today.

As usual, I’m going to provide some pretty in-depth information about some of these things, so if you just want to know about what exists there today, feel free to scroll down below to where I introduce the ‘Nishi Honganji Relics’ section, which focuses on the contemporary usage of the land as a public park and cultural space, a short distance away from the hustle and bustle from what has become known as the ‘Mecca’ of Taiwan’s youth culture.

Ximending (西門町 / せいもんちょう)

It’s unlikely that there are many people who visit Ximen today who stop and think: “I wonder what this place looked like a century ago?” The modern shopping district that we know and love has developed so much over the past few decades that it doesn’t even resemble a shadow of its former self. But this is what I do, I stop and look at things and try to appreciate the long history that helped to transform parts of our communities into what they are today.

Well over a century prior to becoming known as the “Shibuya of Taipei” and the arrival of all of its theaters, night clubs, karaoke bars and shopping, the ‘Ximen’ area was simply just a patch of swampy wilderness outside of the city’s ‘Baocheng Gate’ (寶成門), the Qing-era gate, more commonly known as the ’West Gate’ or ‘Ximen’ (西門), in Mandarin, which is where the area derives its name.

When the Japanese arrived in Taiwan in 1895 (明治28年), the area was completely undeveloped and consisted primarily of dengue-infested swamps, part of the first generation railway, and a road between the walled area of the city (台北城內) and Bangkha (艋舺), or Wanhua (萬華). Showing little interest in the confined nature of Chinese-style walled cities, the Japanese quickly got to work knocking them down in order to carry out their grander plans for massive urban development in what would be the capital of the empire’s new overseas colony.

Note: For a bit of scale, if you walked from the North Gate (北門) to the Ximen MRT Station (where the original west gate once stood), it would likely only take you about ten minutes. That walk would essentially consist of half of the walled area that was the ‘Taipei’ of the Qing-era. That being said, there were other developed areas nearby like Dadaocheng (大稻埕) and Bangkha (艋舺) that were located outside of the walls. Nevertheless, old Taipei was just a very small piece of one of the neighborhoods within the capital today.

Much of the development of the city in the initial years of the Japanese Colonial Era was influenced by the re-construction (re-routing) of the railway, which was essential to the empire’s plans for exerting control over the island as well as extracting its precious natural resources. With the railway from the northern port city of Keelung running through the north-eastern portion of Taipei, it curved in a south-western direction and made its way through Ximen and Bangkha before crossing the river on its way further south.

Having the Qing-era walls in the area complicated the construction of the south-bound railway out of the city, which was re-routed from the original track laid by the Qing a decade or so earlier. Within the first decade of the colonial era, the city developed at an almost inhuman speed with roads, public works and new buildings popping up all over the place. With all of the construction taking place, it might have seemed like the early years were all-work-and-no-play, so the government made the decision to follow the example of East Tokyo’s popular Asakusa District (浅草 / あさくさ), a specialized entertainment and economic area, and came up with plans to develop the land near the old Western Gate.

Taking inspiration from the Qing-era gate, the Japanese named the neighborhood “Seimon-chō” (西門町 / せいもんちょう), which translates directly to ‘Ximending’ in Mandarin. Starting in 1897 (明治30年), the area became home to business and entertainment facilities starting with the Taihokuza Theater (臺北座 / たいほくざ), then the Eiza Theater (榮座 / えいざ) and the still existing Seimon-cho Market and Department Store (西門市場八角樓), known today as the Red House Theater (紅樓劇場). In addition to theaters, markets and department stores, Ximen also became home to a number of restaurants and bars, marking the start of an entertainment, shopping and fine dining paradise, something which hasn’t changed for more than a century.

Link: Kishu An (紀州庵文學森林)

Business and entertainment in the area continued to thrive throughout the Japanese-era as the number of theaters continued to expand. When the Second World War ended and the Japanese were forced to surrender control of Taiwan, they left the citizens of the capital with a well-established appreciation for motion pictures and entertainment, and that is something that carried on in the post-war period as ‘Ximen’ continued its expansion, consuming the Japanese-era neighborhoods known as Wakatake-chō (若竹町 / わかたけちょう), Shinki-chō (新起町 / しんきちょう), Suehiro-chō (末廣町 / すえひろちょう), Kotobuki-chō (壽町 / ことぶきちょう) and Tsukiji-chō (築地町 / つきじちょう).

Today, the shopping district is home to over twenty theaters and thousands of stores and vendors catering to an estimated three million visitors per month. The modern era however hasn’t been all fun and games for Ximen though - In the early 1990s, business in the district declined as there was a shift towards the East District (東區) of the city, where massive department stores were constructed. Lending a hand to the struggling Ximen, the Taipei City Government designated the district as the Ximending Pedestrian Area (西門町商圈行人徒步區), prohibiting vehicles from entering the area on weekends and national holidays. Then, in 1999 (民國88年), the Ximen MRT Station (西門捷運站) opened for service and assisted in bringing the district back to life, offering quick and convenient access.

Unfortunately, the COVID-19 pandemic has proved to be yet another nail to the heart of the shopping district with many vendors forced to shut their doors due to the lack of tourists, shopping and high cost of rent.

Once we put this pandemic behind us, you can be sure that this historic entertainment district will once again make its triumphant return, and all the ‘for rent’ signs we see now will quickly disappear!

Changing so much over the past century, it is surprising, yet heartening that we can still find some historic locations among the constantly changing face of the district’s urban landscape. Given that Ximen was developed during the Japanese-era (1895-1945), it should go without saying that the vast majority of the historic attractions you’ll come across in the area are related to that period of Taiwan’s history.

Some of those historic locations we can enjoy are the Red House Theater (which was recently restored), the Taipei Mazu Temple (台北天后宮), originally a Japanese Buddhist temple (Hong-Fa Temple 弘法寺 / こうぼうでら), Fahua Temple (Hokke-ji / 法華寺 / ほっけじ) and the subject of this article, the Nishi Hongan-ji Park.

Nishi Hongan-ji Temple (西本願寺)

Taking inspiration from Tokyo’s Asakusa District, the Ximending Shopping and Entertainment District was also home to some important places of worship. Just like the ancient Sensō-ji Buddhist Temple (金龍山浅草寺 / せんそうじ) back in Tokyo, Ximen was chosen as the home for the Taiwan Branch of the Nishi Hongan-ji Buddhist Temple (西本願寺台湾別院 / ほんがんじたいわんべついん).

While it certainly wasn’t comparable in size to the ostentatious ‘Buddhist’ temples you’ll find in Taiwan these days, the Nishi Hongan-ji temple was one of Taiwan’s first massive places of worship, when it was completed, it dominated the city’s skyline.

Constructed as the ‘Taiwan Branch’ of Kyoto’s Nishi Hongan-ji temple (西本願寺), the temple was part of the “Pure Land” sect of Buddhist temples, better known as the Jōdo Shinshū (浄土真宗). As one of Japan’s largest Buddhist organizations, the massive Taiwan branch was constructed in an attempt to show the power and prestige of the group and its eagerness to expand its number of followers in the colony.

Links: Nishi Hongan-ji | Jōdo Shinshū (Wiki)

Regarded as a Japanese National Treasure and designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site, the Nishi Hongan-ji Temple in dates back to 1591, and is one of the most widely visited destinations in the historic Japanese capital of Kyoto. Officially known as the “Jodo Shinshu Hongwanji-ha” (淨土真宗本願寺派 / じょうどしんしゅうほんがんじは) sect, there are more than a hundred branches throughout Japan, and the organization has expanded internationally over the years with branches constructed around the world.

As one of the organization’s first overseas branches, the Jodo Shinshu were one of the first Japanese Buddhist organizations to land in Taiwan. Monks were embedded within the ranks of the army and were tasked with comforting soldiers on expedition, taking care of the injured, holding Buddhist funerals for the deceased and escorting their remains back to Japan.

The history of the ‘Taiwan Branch’ got its start in 1897 (明治30年) when the group purchased around 8300㎡ (2500坪) of land in Taipei’s Shinki-chō (新起町 / しんきちょう). A few years later, thanks to a generous grant of 25,000 Yen from the headquarters back in Kyoto, the colonial government approved an application to construct a ‘temporary’ temple complex located near where the park is located today. With plans for a future migration to a permanent home, the temporary location was set up with a Main Hall (本堂), Assembly Hall (集會所) and dormitories for the monks.

The ‘temporary’ situation lasted until the early 1920s, when the colonial government implemented an ambitious urban development plan (市區改正) that re-shaped and modernized the city by improving roads and constructing public works that took care of sanitation and sewage. Given that parts of the temple were located in an area that was slated for the construction of a major road (currently Changsha Street 長沙街), the group purchased an additional plot of land just south of where the new road would be constructed.

Portions of the original temple had to be demolished and reconstructed to comply with the urban development plan, however it was a relatively fortunate situation, as the plot of land originally occupied by the temple connected directly to the new plot.

This meant that they had more space and were were able to move things around, and eventually expand.

In 1922 (大正11年), the Mausoleum (御廟所 /ごびょうしょ), Bell Tower (鐘樓 / しょうろう) and Jushin Assembly Hall (樹心會館 / じゅしんかいかん) were completed. Then, in 1924 (大正13年), the abbot’s official residence (輪番所) was reconstructed. It would take until 1931 (昭和6年) however for the massive Main Hall (本堂 / ほんどう) to officially re-open its doors.

At nearly 1000㎡ (300坪), the Main Hall was constructed on a large reinforced concrete base facing east in the direction of the Governor General’s Office. The upper section of the building, including much of its giant roof was constructed of Taiwanese Red Cypress (紅檜). The interior space of the building featured high-ceiling space and its size was measured in an old style of measurement listed as seven ‘bays’ wide and seven ‘bays’ in length (正面七開間,縱深亦為七開間), which is approximately 31.5 meters in length and width in metric and reached a height of around 76 feet, equal to a seven or eight story building by today’s standards.

In addition to the upper floor space, the concrete base was also functional in that it included space for a library, conference rooms, etc. The interior space on the upper floor was divided into two different sections, the outer section (外陣) and the inner sanctum (內陣) with the outer section occupying the majority of the space featuring large sliding panel doors on the three sides of the front half of the building and a large open space for meditation and worship. The inner sanctum on the other hand would have been home to an area that was cordoned off, accessible only to the monks at the temple with a large shrine against the rear wall.

The architectural design of the Main Hall largely followed that of the Goeidō Hall (御影堂), known in English as the “Founders Hall”, at Kyoto’s Nishi Hongan-ji Temple. Historic photos of the interior of the Taipei temple match up quite well with what we can see today at the historic building in Japan, but more notably, the roof of the building in Taipei was designed to be almost a replica of the original.

One of the saddest things about the loss of this building is that there are few traditional buildings from the Japanese-era that remain in Taiwan which feature a roof as grand as what you would have seen at this temple. The few that come close would be the Tainan Martial Arts Hall, Changhua Martial Arts Hall, or the Taoyuan Shinto Shrine, however none of them were comparable in size, and each of them vary in their architectural design.

Note: It’s important to remember that even though the height of the building was a total of 76 feet, at least three quarters of its total size would have been the roof, which was meant to display the grand nature of the building. The importance of the roof’s architectural design cannot be understated, and it is what made the building so iconic.

Where the building’s roof was similar to many of the other traditional Japanese-style buildings around Taiwan was that it was designed in the ubiquitous irimoya-zukuri (入母造 / いりもやづくり) architectural style. More commonly known as the ‘East Asian hip-and-gable roof’ (歇山), these roofs essentially consist of a ‘hip’ section that slopes down on all four slides and a ‘gable’ section on the opposing sides. Originally taking inspiration from Chinese-style architectural design, the Japanese irimoya style evolved over the centuries and began to take shape as mastery over construction techniques improved.

Links: East Asian hip-and-gable roof (Wiki) | Irimoya-zukuri 入母屋造 (JAANUS)

Post-war photo of the temple dominating the Ximen skyline

The roof at the Taipei temple followed the same irimoya-style hip-and-gable roof as what you’d find at Nishi Hongan-ji back in Kyoto, but as it was a much newer structure, the construction techniques differed slightly. The Taipei temple made use of iron trusses within the interior of the building in addition to the reinforced concrete pillars on the exterior that extended from the base to the roof to help to stabilize it’s massive weight.

Where it remained the same however, and what would make it rare in Taiwan today, was that it featured a very steep slope on the ‘hip’ with ‘hongawarabuki’ (本瓦葺 / ほんかわらぶき) tiles. These tiles, which are a mixture of flat broad concave tiles (平瓦 / hiragawara / ひらがわら) and semi-cylindrical convex tiles (丸瓦 / marugawara / まるがわら) created a visual effect that made the roof look as if it were an incoming tsunami.

I’m sure all these official names don’t make a lot of sense to most people, so to explain it simply, the cylindrical tiles are laid first and looked like giant bamboo trees running down the length of the roof. The flat tiles on the other hand ran horizontally and acted as protective covers for the seams or joints where they met.

At the top of the roof there was a thick ‘oomune’ ridge that ran horizontally along the length of the building decorated with ‘shishiguchi’, or ‘lion-mouth tiles’ on the ends. Running vertically down the roof were similarly decorated ridges known as ‘kudarimune’ and next to them ‘corner’ ridges that are split into two sections referred to as ‘sumimune’ and ‘chigomune’ on the end. Finally, on the ends of each of the triangular gable sections you’d find beautifully decorated gegyo (懸魚 / げぎょ) ‘hanging fish’ wooden boards, used as a charm against fire, similar to porcelain dragons on Taiwanese temples.

Once again, you’re being inundated with a bunch of technical terms, so I’ll provide a diagram blow that points to each of the functional and decorative aspects of the roof just mentioned:

  1. oomune (大棟 / おおむね) - the ridge that runs along the top of the roof.

  2. shishiguchi (獅子口 / ししくち) - decorative ‘lions-mouth’ elements on the edges of the ridge.

  3. kudarimune (降棟 / くだるむね) - a ridge that descends vertically from the top ridge.

  4. sumimune (隅棟 / すみむね) - a corner ridge that connects to the gable.

  5. chigomune (稚児棟 / ちごむね) - the end of the corner ridge, decorated with shishiguchi (2).

  6. marugawara (丸瓦 / まるがわら) - semi-cylindrical convex roof tiles that look like bamboo.

  7. hiragawara (平瓦 / ひらがわら) - flat roof tiles that lie between the marugawara (6).

Sadly, after the war, the temple complex was used for a variety of purposes, which prior to the ‘February 28th Incident’ was occupied by the infamous Garrison Command, which rounded up political prisoners and took them to the temple for interrogation, imprisonment, or worse. Later, it was used as housing for a merry-go-round of refugees who came to Taiwan with the Chinese Nationalists. The number of people coming and going from the temple became a precarious issue and ultimately, the grounds became home to illegal squatters, which left it in pretty terrible shape, before it caught fire and burnt to the ground in 1975 (民國64).

After much of what once existed was destroyed, the grounds became home to even more illegal squatters, who set up their own little village of tin-sheeted houses (鐵皮屋), something that was highly frowned upon by the government, especially in one of the city’s most important districts.

And that ladies and gentlemen is where I’m going to move on to the current situation regarding the Nishi Hongan-ji Relics Park!

Nishi Hongan-ji Relics Park (西本願寺廣場)

The historic and cultural value of the grounds were largely ignored until the city had enough of the eyesore next to one of its most important shopping and business districts. In 2006 (民國95年), an urban renewal initiative that sought to knock down the illegal squatter village simultaneously recognized what little remained of the temple as a Protected City-Level Monument (市定古蹟). By 2011 (民國100年), the remaining residents on the grounds were relocated, and a project to convert the grounds into an urban green park, with restoration on the few remaining temple structures were set to be the main attraction.

Restoration of the buildings and the space were officially completed in 2014 (民國103年), and a breath of life was brought back to the historic grounds, reborn as ‘Nishi Hongan-ji Square’ (西本願寺廣場), a multi-purpose park and cultural space gifted to the residents of Taipei.

Unfortunately, it goes without saying that much of what once existed on the grounds has become a distant memory as the various fires over the decades left the majority of once existed in ruins. Lost from the original temple are the Main Hall (本堂), the Mausoleum (御廟所), the Administration Building (庫裏), the Sanmon Gate (山門 / さんもん), and the monks dormitories. What was able to be saved however are the beautiful Bell Tower (鐘樓), the Jushin Assembly Hall (樹心會館), the Abbot’s Residence (輪番所), and the concrete base of the Main Hall.

Below, I’ll briefly introduce each of the remaining pieces of the temple individually, and the purpose they serve today as park of the urban culture park.

Bell Tower (鐘樓 / しょうろう)

The Bell Tower, an integral part of a Japanese Buddhist temple was located within the interior of the complex, just past where the Main Gate (山門) once stood. Coincidentally, once of the smallest parts of the original temple, the Bell Tower today serves as the park’s main attraction. Despite not burning down with many of the other sections of the original temple, the original Bell Tower met with a similar fate as the village of squatters more or less just built around the original base of the tower, consuming it into their village.

Completely reconstructed based on the design of the original, the Bell Tower today features a massive Bonshō bell (梵鐘 / ぼんしょう) housed within what is known in Japan as the “shōrō” (しょうろう). Japanese-style Bell Towers typically fall into two different styles of architectural design, both of which can still be enjoyed in Taipei today - The first type is the most traditional variety known as “hakamagoshi” (褲腰), typically a walled two-storey hour-glass shaped building with the bell located on the second floor. This type can be viewed at the nearby at the historic Soto Zen Daihonzai Temple (曹洞宗大本山別院) as well as the Chin'nanzan Gokoku-ji Temple (鎮南護山國禪寺), each of which are only a few stops away on the MRT.

The second type is considered a ‘newer’ (13th century “new”) variety known as “fukihanachi“ (吹放ち), which is essentially an open structure with no walls, and a bell hanging in the middle.

Within both of these architectural styles, the common feature is that they are typically adorned with a beautiful Japanese-style gabled (切妻造) or hip-and-gable (入母屋造) rooftop. In the case of this Bell Tower, the roof is absolutely beautiful and has to be enjoyed close up. The restoration team obviously spared no effort in ensuring that the roof of the bell tower remained faithful to the original and took special care to have Japanese experts assist in the construction process.

The four sided hip-and-gable roof of the tower features a sloping roof with triangular ‘tsuma’ (妻 / つま) on each of the gable-ends. Designed and decorated similarly to the roof of the former Main Hall, the roof consists of many of the decorative elements mentioned above - What you’ll want to pay the most attention to however are the amazing carpentry skills that make up the network of support trusses within the roof. Working together with the four pillars that connect to its cement base, the trusses are both functional as well as beautiful in their decorative designs.

Bell Towers serve both practical and symbolic purposes as they are thought to have the power to 'awaken people from the daze of everyday life and the pursuit of worldly things like fame and fortune’ and the daily ringing of the bells is a reminder to people of all walks of life to slow down and enjoy life. Even though the Bell Tower serves as a reminder of the beautiful temple that once occupied this space, the bell is only rung on special occasions.

Jushin Assembly Hall  (樹心會館)

Dating back to 1923 (大正12年), the Jushin Assembly Hall (樹心會館) was an interesting addition to the temple complex. The ’T-shaped’ Japanese-Western fusion building was constructed with a mixture of brick and wood and features a Japanese-style roof and a ‘karamon’ (唐門 / からもん) entrance. The interior of the building however is considered western-style and was meant to show off the ‘modernity of the era’ (表現新時代精神), with it’s open space and western-style roof trusses. The brick building features quite a few large windows, allowing for considerable amount of natural light in the building during the day, which helps the iconic Taiwan Renga (台灣煉瓦株式會社) red bricks to shine.

Originally used as a space to educate visitors in Buddhist doctrine, the building today is operated by the Taipei City Department of Cultural Affairs and is used as an exhibition and event space. Unfortunately, the space isn’t always open to the public, so if you visit, you may not be able to explore the interior of the building.

Abbot’s Residence (輪番所)

The former Abbot’s Residence is a simple Japanese-style wooden residential-style dormitory that was elevated off of the ground on a cement base. Similar to many of the other Japanese-era houses that I’ve written about over the years, the house was beautifully restored by the city government and the exterior features recently planted cherry trees along the walkway to its entrance that bloom in the winter.

While the residence is ‘technically’ open to the public, it is currently occupied by the ‘Eighty-Eightea Rinbansyo’ (八拾捌茶輪番所), a popular tea house that promotes Taiwanese tea. Despite being a popular destination for Instagrammers, the interior of the building has some pretty strict guidelines with regard to photography, and more or less only allows people with smart phones to take photos, unless a permit is applied for beforehand.

The leasing of the building to the tea shop is part of a government effort to make use of these historic buildings for commercial purposes, recouping some of the public funds used for the restoration of the park - something which I’ve written about in the past.

Link: The role of Public-Private Partnerships in Conserving Historic Buildings in Taiwan

In the future, I’ll likely write a dedicated article about the Abbot’s Residence and the Tea House that occupies the space today, but it’s one of those experiences that I’ll have to plan long in advance in order to be able to take proper photos within the historic residence.

Link: Eighty-Eightea (八拾捌茶)

Open Daily from 11:30 - 6:00pm

Base of the Main Hall (本堂臺座)

Taipei 101 might be one of the most iconic structures in the modern capital of Taiwan, but its safe to say that the original Main Hall of this temple (in addition to a few others) were the Japanese-era equivalent. The historic photos of the building that you can see above are an important reminder of the once iconic building that dominated the city’s skyline.

Even though the building was destroyed, the Taipei City Government restored the reinforced concrete base of the building to ensure that its memory can be enjoyed for years to come. The base, which was restored and renovated along with the rest of the park is currently home to the Taipei City Archives (臺北市立文獻館), and features some important historic exhibitions where you learn about the city’s history. The stairs of the base are likewise a pretty popular spot for residents of the city to relax, enjoy their lunch, or chat with friends.

The City Archives are open to the public Monday to Friday from 9:00am - 5:00pm.

Entry is Free of Charge

Getting There

 

Address: #174-176 Zhonghua Road, Section 1, Wanhua District, Taipei City

(臺北市萬華區中華路1段174-176號)

GPS: (25.040200, 121.507290)

Located a short distance from Taipei’s popular Ximending (西門町) shopping district, the Nishi Hongan-ji Square is a beautiful natural space that highlights the history of the Ximen area. Given that it is within walking distance of not only the shopping district, but all of the other historic and cultural attractions in the area, a visit to the park is one that won’t take too much time out of your day.

Conveniently located just south of Ximen’s MRT station, getting there is pretty simple.

Due to its proximity to the MRT Station, I’m not going to provide information for anyone driving a car this time.

If you’ve got a car, simply input the address provided above and you’ll be able to map out your route pretty easily. That being said, the Ximen area is one of the busiest and hippest parts of town, so parking your car nearby can be both frustrating and expensive. I highly recommend you just park it elsewhere and make use of the city’s excellent public transportation, instead.

MRT

The easiest and probably the most convenient way to get to the area is to make use of Taipei’s excellent MRT network. The Nishi Hongan-ji Relic Square is located a three or four minute walk from Ximen Station (西門站) on the network’s Blue Bannan Line (板南線). Once you’ve arrived at the station, you’ll want to take Exit 1 (1號出口) and walk south on either Zhonghua Road (中華路) or Hanzhong Road (漢中路), where you’ll also see the iconic Ximen Red Building (西門紅樓).

Bus

In addition to the MRT, Taipei’s Public Bus network is also pretty useful, especially if you’re coming from an area where you’d have to transfer trains a few times. The most convenient bus stop is located next to Ximen Station, which has almost two dozen different bus routes coming from all over the city. With so many buses, it’s difficult to link to all of them, so below, I’ll provide a list of the routes that are serviced by the Ximen Station Bus Stop. 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 station: #9, #12, #49, #202, #205, #206, #212, #232, #246, #249, #250, #252, #253, #260, #262, #304, #307, #310, #604, #624, #660, #667, #662, #667

Similar to the MRT above, the park is a short walk from the MRT Station and Bus Stops.

Youbike

If you find yourself riding around town on one of Taipei’s shared bicycles, you’ll be happy to know that there is a Youbike docking station conveniently located next to the park. You can simply dock your bike there when you arrive and get another one when you leave.

Despite what little remains today of one of Taipei’s most elegant Japanese-era temples, the park offers a fitting memorial to what once stood on the grounds, and the usage of space, whether its the museum, tea house, bell tower or the exhibition space, was carefully considered. While it’s highly unlikely that the historic temple will ever be reconstructed, the park remains a pretty cool natural space within one of the hippest parts of the city and offers a nice respite from the hectic shopping areas of Ximen.

There is a long list of public events that take place in the park throughout the year, so if you’re visiting for the first time, you can enjoy the beauty of the bell tower and learn about the city’s history in the museum. For those of us lucky enough to live in Taiwan on a long-term basis, the park is an excellent place to visit throughout the year, depending on what exhibitions or events are taking place.


Changhua Sea-Shell Temple (彰化貝殼廟)

One of the benefits of being a foreigner here in Taiwan is that I have somewhat of an advantage over my local friends when it comes to not getting freaked out by the multitude of scary supernatural things that they worry about on a daily basis. Superstition is a real thing here and from a young age people are conditioned to do a lot of quirky things that might make you scratch your head.

I’m pretty sure the only thing I grew up being afraid of was clowns. 

When I explore abandoned buildings or weird temples, my friends often ask how I could be so ‘brave’ to visit these places. I’ve never considered it to be a question of whether or not I was being courageous, I just assumed that the difference was that I was brought up in a different culture and the things that bother people here don’t bother me at all.

On the other hand if a clown suddenly jumped out in front of me on a dark street, I’m sure they probably wouldn’t understand why I ran away screaming.

That being said, I have to admit that there are times when I do get freaked out. 

There have been a few such occasions. 

The first time was when I was exploring an abandoned Military Village (眷村) with my good friend Alexander Synaptic. As I walked into one of the abandoned homes, no less than a half-dozen Huntsmen Spiders dropped down from above the door frame and separated the two of us - I wasn’t sure I was going to make it out alive.

If you don’t know what a Huntsmen spider is, count yourself lucky. They’re bigger than my hand and you can see their eyes moving around. Gross.

Coincidentally, the second time I got freaked out was also thanks to Alexander. 

I’m starting to sense a pattern.

A few months ago I wrote about the Sanzhi Seashell Temple on Taiwan’s northern coast. Shortly after Alex mentioned to me that there was another seashell temple in Taiwan and it was even cooler than the one in Sanzhi. He also mentioned that it was one of his favourite temples. In the back of my mind I knew that for a temple to be on the top of his list, it would have to be “special” but I figured I should probably find some time to visit anyway. 

When I did visit, I ended up finding myself a bit weirded out. 

The Changhua Seashell Temple certainly isn’t what you’d consider a typical Taiwanese place of worship, but it is one that has the ability to freak out locals (and foreigners alike) and acts as a bit of a strange tourist attraction for those brave enough to visit.  

The Changhua Sea Shell Temple (彰化貝殼廟)

The so-called “Changhua Sea Shell Temple”, is actually just the nickname given to the “Sanqing Sanyuan Temple” (三清三元宮) which is located conveniently just across the river from the popular tourist town of Lukang (鹿港). The temple is the earliest of Taiwan’s “Sea Shell Temples” (貝殼廟) and like Taichung’s Rainbow Village is the work of a single man who brought his dreams to life. 

Constructed by a local man named Huang Chi-Chun (黃奇春), the temple took several decades to complete.

Having previously spent much of his youth working in Taipei, Mr. Huang returned to his childhood home in Changhua in 1978 (民國67年), bought some land and as one does, got himself into the tropical fish farming business.

The thing is though, Mr. Huang was a high school dropout and after working his whole life to provide for his family, purchasing land and starting a business was no small matter. Fortunately his fish farming business was a relatively successful venture and his retirement savings weren’t completely wasted. 

I’m sure when Mr. Huang purchased the land that he got it for a really good price. It was after all situated next to a cemetery. I’m also sure that his friends and family would have reminded him about the hazards of purchasing the land, but it would seem that he was a bit of a quirky guy, so he didn’t really pay much attention to the warnings. 

Shortly after opening his fish farm, Mr. Huang started having strange dreams where images of a mysterious underwater temple appeared to him almost every night. Memories of his days as a soldier also often appeared in his dreams and in particular he tells of a vivid recollection of a time when a ranking officer gifted him with statues of the “Three Pure Ones” (三清道祖). 

Link: The Three Pure Ones (Wiki) - 中文 / English

The frequency of the dreams convinced Mr. Huang that something supernatural was taking place and that his visions were telling him that it was his responsibility to construct the temple exactly as it appeared in his dreams.

Interestingly Mr. Huang claims that once the temple was completed his dreams suddenly stopped, which he took as a message of divine gratitude for the work he had spent decades to complete.

Like Noah who constructed the Ark, Mr. Huang had little experience in temple design or building techniques, so the construction of the temple required a bit of divine assistance. Save for hiring a few workers to help him construct the foundation of the temple, the rest of the temple was completed single-handedly between 1978 and 1993 when it was (roughly) finished. 

To construct the temple, Mr. Huang collected several species of mollusc shells from nearby waters (Specifically: 唐冠螺, 鐘螺, 錐螺, 蠑螺, 寶螺, 玉螺, 鳳凰螺, 海兔螺, 法螺, 貝殼) and purchased a large amount of sandstone from Hengchun (恆春) in the south of Taiwan. 

To fix the seashells to the walls, Mr. Huang first connected them together with a network of wires and then molded them into the walls with the sandstone - which is notable for its relatively soft nature and the ease of carving it into various designs. 

The temple sits on 200 square meters of land but is actually just a small part of a larger complex that consists of Mr. Huang’s fish farm, a seashell shop and what looks like a failed attempt at creating a restaurant - oh and of course the grave of his wife is inside as well. 

As you drive down the narrow country road to the temple you can’t help to notice the odd shape of the exterior as you approach. The exterior which is almost castle-like is covered in white seashells that have turned a shade of yellow or black due to exposure to the sun and pollution.

Near the front gate you’ll find a parking lot that sits between directly between the temple and the cemetery on the other side. 

Something you’ll note as soon as you step out of your car is that the area is infested with insects - This shouldn’t really be a huge surprise though considering the temple is located on farmland, next to a fish farm and a million sea shells. 

The entrance to the temple is probably one of the most attractive parts of the whole complex (at least in my opinion). The gate has a traditional round door adorned with seashells on the sides. There is a wooden plaque above the entrance with really cool Chinese calligraphy indicating the name of the temple and porcelain images of gods on top of the arch. The gate is also somewhat shrouded in greenery with trees and plants on both sides giving it somewhat of a natural look as you enter.  

Once you pass through the gate, you will be immediately met with an incense urn and a walkway that is lined with creepy-looking figures on one layer and more recognizable local deities on the layer above.

The nightmare-inducing human-like figures that line the walls on both sides of the walkway are made even creepier thanks to the intricate coral decorations behind them that look eerily similar to bones.

As you approach the Main Hall of the temple, you’ll walk next to four pillars decorated with large sea-shells that lead to the roofed part of the temple. Like the rest of the temple, the roof is intricately decorated but it a bit hard to see given the angle of the walkway that leads up to it. 

After you’ve passed the four pillars you’ll notice that there is a walkway on the left and right with even more sea-shell designs. Before you enter the Main Hall its a good idea to walk around the perimeter of the exterior of the hall to check out the murals of dragons, phoenixes and other mythical creates that Mr. Huang created using sea shells and coral.

The whole thing is surreal and reminded me of some of the awkward 1980’s style designs that I saw at the abandoned amusement park in Taoyuan.

The entrance to the Main Hall is similar to the main gate, however the door here is octagonal (八卦) and has dragon pillars on either side. The plaque above the door likewise uses the same style of Chinese typography as the entrance, but this time it is written horizontally with the words “Sanqing Sanyuan Temple” (三清三元宮). 

When you enter the Main Hall of the temple you’ll suddenly realize that there is a distinct lack of sea shells or coral and it would seem the whole underwater theme got thrown out the window.

The Main Hall is dark, smoky, full of dust and somewhat unkept.

For local visitors, its customary to pay respects to the deities enshrined inside, but as far as temples go, the whole set up is a bit odd. There is only one shrine, and its littered with a bunch of randomly placed statues surrounding the “Three Pure Ones” (三清道祖). Offhand I recognized the Earth God (福德正神), Guanyin (觀音菩薩) and Kuixing (魁星).

Now here’s where things get a bit creepy. 

While I was inside the shrine room attempting to take photos in the dark, the caretaker lady who runs the place came in and told me that it was closing time. She informed me that she already closed the gate behind me, so I’d have to exit through the basement. 

So here I am in this weird temple next to a cemetery that is infested with insects and the lady is telling me that I need to go through the basement to exit.

If you’re not already aware, basements aren’t really all that common here in Taiwan, so the fact that I’d have to “exit” through the basement was a bit weird. Not only that, the stairs down to the basement were strangely steep and narrow and at the bottom the lightbulbs were neon red. 

I was pretty sure I was about to get murdered. 

Fortunately Taiwan is a pretty safe place, so I sucked it up and walked down the stairs which opened up to a weird hallway with more neon lights on the walls as well as more of Mr. Huang’s sea shell art.

After checking out some of the murals, I decided it was about time to get my ass out of there.

After a minute or two of walking down the hallway it opened up to a large area where you can buy sea shells and check out the fish farm. By that time though, I wasn’t really very interested in sticking around any longer.

It was getting dark, I had to get my rental scooter back to Changhua City and hop on the train back home.

There are a lot of reasons why this place is likely to freak people out. It’s not your typical temple, but then again, there are quite a few flamboyant places of worship constructed by ‘imaginative’ people around the world, so who am I to criticize this guy’s life’s work and his art? 

I visited and got out alive, so I can’t really complain, right? 

Getting There

 

Address: 彰化縣福興鄉福南村振興巷10-1號

Getting to the temple isn’t really that difficult if you have access to Google Maps, but in this case you’re unfortunately not going to be able to rely on public transportation to get there. 

If you’d like to visit, the temple is a short distance away from the popular tourist town of Lukang (鹿港). To get there you simply cross the river that takes you into Fuxing Township and then follow Fusan Road (福三路) until you reach Zhengxing Alley (振興巷). From there you’ll turn and drive down a narrow road until you reach the temple.

The best way to get there is to either ride a scooter, drive a car, take a taxi or ride a Youbike. You can easily find YouBikes in Lukang and the ride to the temple is less than two kilometres, so it shouldn’t take you too long.

If I were to compare the two sea shell temples, it would be easy to say that the temple in New Taipei is the clear winner when it comes to beauty. That however wouldn’t take into consideration that the temple had a team of artisans and copious amounts of cash thrown at it. This temple on the other hand was fully funded, designed and constructed by a single man who used his ingenuity and several decades of his life to make it into what it is today. 

While I don’t particularly understand the necessity of a temple full of dead aquatic life ripped from the ocean, there’s not much I can say now that its been completed. Religion makes people do weird things sometimes and while this temple might be a bit creepy, a bit haunted, or whatever else you’d like to say, its also an interesting look into the creativity of a man whose work I suppose you could compare to the work Gaudi did on Barcelona’s Sagrada Familia - and if thats the case, I guess you could say that’s quite the compliment. 

Whether or not you should visit is up to you. It is a weird and wonderful place and if you’re looking for something different, this is one that you’ll not want to miss.