A Taiwanese Tale of Two Theaters

It has been about twelve years since I returned to Taiwan, and I was keen to discover all the new architecture dotted across the country. As cities in China developed frantically over the last three decades, most Taiwanese cities seem to have stuck to the old. Taiwan’s vibrant democracy and often caustic media often made urban redevelopment complicated and slow-going. Understandably, many Taiwanese look at China with envy and bemoan the lack of tangible changes at home. Honestly, I can’t say I could disagree with it sometimes.

While Taiwan’s urban development has much to be desired, the country's architectural landscape is far more dynamic. Over the past two decades, the government greatly emphasized the development of the cultural and creative industry. While Taiwan had trouble finding a bidder for a new airport terminal, just about every city received funding to build a state-of-the-art performance venue, library, and art museum. Two buildings stand out for their architectural ambition and cultural impact. I made an architectural pilgrimage to both theaters on this recent visit, and I was not disappointed!

Taipei Performing Arts Center

Among all the new construction completed during my time away, none excites me as much as the Taipei Performing Arts Center (臺北表演藝術中心), commonly abbreviated as PTAC. This curiously-looking structure is the latest masterpiece of the Rotterdam-based practice Office for Metropolitan Architecture, commonly known as OMA. For architects of my generation, OMA and its principal architect, Reem Koolhaas, loom large in the trajectory of contemporary architecture. More than any architect, Koolhaas’ philosophical approach toward design often challenges the traditional building typology. From Seattle Central Library to the CCTV Headquarters in Beijing, OMA has never been shy away from the honest expression of architecture.

A visit to another theater partly inspired my enthusiasm for TPAC. Last year, I had the opportunity to visit Porto’s Casa da Musica after completing my first Camino de Santiago. Casa da Musica was OMA’s first theater project. To break the traditional “shoe box” theater typology, the architect devised a daring and unorthodox design by placing massive curtain walls at both ends of the theater space. Coupled with a challenging wedge-shaped site, the building is not afraid to be different. Unlike buildings by Frank Gehry or Thom Mayne, the exterior of this theater is not designed to provoke but an honest expression of its interior program.

For architecture lovers, Casa da Musica is the singularly most important monument in Porto.

To break down the tall walls of high culture, the architect carved out a solid concrete block with large window openings. While the public in the square could not hear the performance, the visual connection was strong. Especially at night, theatergoers inadvertently became performers of a bustling urban scheme. While the main lobby and the attached restaurant are open to the public, the regularly scheduled guided tour gives visitors the best understanding of this revolutionary theater.

On the day of my visit, the English-guided tour was hijacked by a group of thirty French tourists. They decided to convert it to a French-language tour and swapped me for a Spanish tour. It was unfortunate that I only got a fraction of the information. The 45-minute guided tour took visitors to every corner of the theater, from the control room to the upper reception halls overlooking the city. Although the theater’s “public circulation” was quite circuitous, it is well marked with silver metal wall panels. “Building as a living machine” has long been a tenet of modernism championed by Le Corbusier. The industrial aesthetic of Casa da Musica is a living embodiment of that ideal.

The undulating curtain is said to be great for acoustic.

For most visitors, the tour’s highlight would be the two upper-level reception halls. One is tiled with traditional white and blue Azulejos, and the other with tiles of strong geometric patterns. The contrast between ultra-modern architecture and traditional tiles is jarringly spectacular. But the highlight would be a peek into the main concert hall. The walls of the main hall are clad with plywood paneling, which is not particularly attractive in my humble opinion. Unlike most other concert halls, the interior is spartan and factory-like. All the acoustic equipment is exposed for all to see. In particular the adjustable acoustic reflector hanging over the stage is particularly striking.

Despite the industrial appearance of the concert hall, the architect still wants to pay “homage to the history of music,” albeit in an ironic fashion. Two modern pipe organs and one Baroque, are installed next to the main stage. Both look out of place in the space. I can’t help but wonder whether they are Koolhaas’s “subtle middle fingers” to the traditionalists who may have wished for a traditional theater. Considering neither is functional, they certainly add a dose of humor to the theater.

The VIP room on the fourth floor is a celebration of shared heritage between Portugal and the Netherlands.

Although I was thoroughly impressed by the architecture, I must admit that the building exterior could be hard to fall in love with at first. The building block resembles a crystalline concrete block. It does not attempt to integrate into the urban fabric of Porto. Unsurprisingly, the theater faced fierce public opposition from the locals. People can’t quite get over the strong visual dominance. Fair or not, Casa da Msuica looks almost like a perfect corporate logo. I later discovered this theater was a marquee landmark for Porto 2001 when the city was designated the European City of Culture.

The crystalline-shaped Casa da Musica is definitely distinctive.

My visit to Casa da Musica reinvigorated my fascination with OMA and Rem Koolhaas. By coincidence, their second major theater project was Taipei’s TPAC. I could hardly contain my excitement before the trip. Just a few months ago, this theater was featured on the cover of Architectural Record, the preeminent periodical among American architects. For most architects, having your project featured on the cover of Architectural Record would be a great honor in one’s career. Rem Koolhaas is no stranger to the publication as a Pritzker Prize winner and a heavyweight in contemporary architecture. But I would argue that no buildings of his are as dramatic and eye-catching as TPAC.

Compared to Casa da Musica, TPAC is much easier to understand visually.

Located in the District of Shilin, the theater occupies the former site of the Shilin Night Market, the largest in Taiwan and a major tourist destination. Today, the famous night market is relocated a block north. The theater is now the first landmark visitors would see on their way to the night market. The theater seems very different from Casa da Musica at first glance. It is not a singular crystalline structure but a group of conjuring geometric volumes. The building comprises a glass box anchoring two metal boxes and a giant metallic globe dangling from three sides. Each protruding mass holds one specific type of theater: an 800-seat Globe Playhouse, an 800-seat Blue Box, and a 1,500-seat grand theater.

At TPAC, Koolhaas consolidates the backstage and service zones to the building’s core. By positioning the actual theater space toward the perimeter, the backstage area could be shared between the three theaters, thus improving efficiency and making the building more compact. Other submitted design proposals. To best understand the genius of the design, it is best to look at the amazing section drawings by OMA. The two drawings show how different the organization is from any other theater I know or visited. Two of the theaters could be combined into one giant performing art space.

Sectional perspective drawing of TPAC. Image Credit: Office for Metropolitan Architecture (OMA).

To encourage public engagement with art, the architect created a public visitation route called Public Loooooop, which takes non-ticketed visitors to various parts of the building. In addition to visiting the “sky terrace” and various recreational spaces, this prescribed route also looped through many backstage areas that are usually hidden away from the public. This may include birdseye views into the rehearsal room or a peek into the mechanical stage lift. The planning aims to break down the wall of high culture and “pull the curtain back,” literally and figuratively. This “public loop” became so popular that the theater recently instituted a reservation system for access. While the visits remain free, they certainly take away the spontaneity the architect imagined.

To get a more in-depth look at the theater, reserving a spot for one of the few weekly guided tours is worthwhile. Short of buying tickets for individual performers, the tour is the best way to visit all three theaters and learn more about the operational complexity. However, because there are just a couple of tours offered each week, we missed out on the opportunity to get a more intimate look at this building, and my biggest regret from this trip.

Like Casa da Musica, TPAC received quite a polarizing reception from the general public. To say the building is odd-looking would be an understatement. Soon after completion, the locals began to nickname it pidan doufu (皮蛋豆腐), or century egg & tofu. It is a dish most Taiwanese love and is known for its simplicity. Among the older generations, the design is bombastic and entirely disconnected from the local surroundings. At first glance, such an assessment seems very fair, but I could see why the locals began to embrace the theater as their own now.

Do you see the similarity between the protruding globe and all the unregulated billboards dangling off the buildings?

According to Koolhaas, he found inspiration for the design from the urban scene of Taipei. On one of his first research trips, he realized that the Taiwanese had a relatively laid-back attitude toward high culture. Most audience members did not bother to dress up for concerts or linger before or after the event. However, he noticed how lively street life in Taiwan is. In response, the architect decided to elevate the theater above ground to facilitate the extension of street activities as close to the building as possible.

For most Taiwanese, the unorthodox look of the building quickly grew on them. The overhanging globe and rectangles echo all the billboards that protrude from the side of the building in most Taiwanese cities. As much as some Taiwanese love to complain about the aesthetic merit of TPAC, most seem to be resigned to the derelict state of architecture in most Taiwanese cities, including Taipei. I suspect this is why OMA is keen to showcase Taipei’s out-of-control billboards on its website.

As much as I love my country, I do have to admit that we are not the best in construction contracting. Like many other public projects in Taiwan, the general contract went out of business halfway through the construction. The construction site was abandoned for a few years. The repeated delays and substantial cost overruns ultimately became a political issue. Completing TPAC became a priority for the administration of Mayor Ko Wen-je, who prides himself as an effective administrator and a fiscal hawk.

When a reporter asked him about the project's cost overrun, he shook his head and said just about every finish material in this building came from Europe. That is just one season of why the budget was so out of control. The same reporter followed up by asking for his opinion on the design of the building. He laughed and said, “It better be at least half decent, given how much money we spent on this theater!”

The National Taichung Theater

Growing up in Hsinchu, I have always been jealous of Taipei, the national capital. Like Tokyo or Bangkok, Taipei seems to have a monopoly regarding national resources and access to international talent. As much as I admire the architectural spender of TPAC, I wish they had built it in a second-tiered city like Tainan or Hsinchu. Acknowledging this geographic inequity of “high culture,” the government created an agency called the National Performing Arts Center (國家表演藝術中心). This agency's main objective is to construct a national state-of-the-art performance facility in two other island regions. The end results are Taichung’s National Taichung Theater (臺中國家歌劇院) and Kaohsiung’s National Kaohsiung Center for the Arts (衛武營國家藝術文化中心).

On the surface, NTT is perhaps the best example of the “novelty architecture" in Taiwan.

Taichung is located in the center of Taiwan and has developed into the second-largest metropolitan area in Taiwan. Taichung felt very different from your typical Taiwanese cities when we arrived in the city. The city looks decidedly modern and well-kept, from its broad boulevards to its plethora of high-rise buildings. It reminded me of China’s instant cities, which I often see on news reports. To most Taiwanese, Taichung has a reputation for being over-the-top. To borrow a phrase from Texas, “Everything is Bigger in Taichung”! Having been to several restaurants in the city, I can attest that the food portions and decor here could be very outlandish.

To fit into the grand vision of Taichung, the committee selected Japanese architect Toyo Ito to design the National Taichung Theater (abbreviated as NTT). Ito, another recipient of the Pritzker Prize, is celebrated for his architectural innovation. Unlike other starchitects, Ito does not necessarily have his own signature style. Rather, he is often unbounded by client expectations and always proposes something new and unexpected. Among his notable works are Sendai Mediatheque and Tama Art University Library. Toyo Ito was rather well-known in Taiwan. His National Stadium in the southern port city of Kaohsiung was inaugurated with great fanfare at the opening ceremony of the 2009 World Games.

Located on the northwestern edge of Taichung, the theater was the centerpiece of a new urban development. The rectangular site is as stately as could be. Ringing the theater is a forest of new highrise apartments; the modern vibe of the neighborhood is quite strange for Taiwan, in all honesty. The near monotonousness of the apartment blocks seemed like a perfect backdrop for an unusual theater. Despite its boxy exterior, NTT is defined by the plastic form of tubular concrete shells. The three-dimensional sculptural forms are abruptly cut off at the facade, creating a series of hourglass-shaped curtain walls and voids that resemble some alien life form. The building facade is essentially expressed as an architectural section.

With so few vertical walls, the $135 million structure is a massive challenge for engineers and contractors. It took them a year and a half to find a contractor willing to take up the challenge. While it is easy for architects to draw up outlandish structures on paper, executing them in the physical world is very different. They sought help from a Japanese company specializing in unconventional wall construction. Unlike many other buildings of its type, the curved walls of the theater here are both structural and functional. On the interiors, the sinuous structure redefines the traditional concept of “rooms.”

The primal colors of the lobby help visitors orient themselves in the cavernous space.

When I first saw the design drawings a decade ago, I was very suspicious of how well the design could translate into real life. But from the moment we arrived at the lobby, the unusual interiors blew us away immediately. The lobby is exceptionally spacious and cavernous. There is something primitive and primal in this interior, which is quite difficult to describe. The interior space here is ideal for wandering and not so much for wayfinding. Hidden behind many sculptural pillars are boutique shops, cafes, and restaurants. For a moment, I forgot this was a national theater, not a high-end shopping mall.

Unfortunately, there was no performance scheduled for the day of our visit. Based on my understanding, they don’t offer regular guided tours of their individual performance tours. Like Taipei’s TPAC, NTT comprises three separate venues: a 2,000-seat Grand Theater, an 800-seat playhouse, and a 200-seat semi-outdoor theater. However, all the venues here are enveloped within a maze of dramatic curves, which is the opposite of TPAC. It was difficult to figure out how to get to a particular venue, even with plenty of signage.

As confusing as the navigation is, the architecture is ideal for getting lost and discovering various nooks and crannies of the theater. Different sets of winding staircases connect different levels of the theater. You would see many empty floor areas by just looking at the floor plan. At first, I was a little confused by all the extra square footage. It turned out these unexpected places were either used by temporary exhibits or design shops. I have come to believe that the success of NTT could be attributed to its multi-use nature.

To my surprise, many restaurants inside are well-regarded for their cookeries and culinary destination in their own right. They were so popular that we had difficulty getting seats at most restaurants. Mind you, it was three o’clock in the afternoon on a weekday. While museums in New York or London are known for hosting high-end restaurants, this was not the norm in Taiwan. Given there are still relatively few performances on their schedule, having all these amenities brings the public closer to a temple of high culture.

The final stop of the visit was the rooftop garden. The sculptural form of the architecture is carried through there as well. The volcano-shaped pavilions conceal the rooftop equipment, but some still pique above the roof line. The roof terrace is nicely landscaped and includes fanciful furniture and light fixtures. It seems like a dreamscape that comes straight out of Alice in Wonderland. It was quite a surreal experience.

There is something intriguingly enigmatic about the architecture.

In all honesty, I came away very impressed with this building. The architectural innovations and engineering feat of NTT are impressive, but the real excitement for me was how the locals enjoyed the theater in so many unexpected ways. Some may regard Ito’s unconventional design as another “novelty architecture,” but this theater is highly adaptable. Ultimately, I can’t tell you which theater I enjoyed more. Both NTT and TPAC find a way to elevate the accessibility of high culture in Taiwan.

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Taipei Performing Arts Center

The National Taichung Theater

The Creative Side of Taipei

The New Architecture of Tainan