The New Architecture of Tainan

Although Tainan seems purpose-made for history lovers, the city is far from a relic of history. With its reputation as Taiwan’s “original capital,” you might expect the city to be a little sister of Kyoto. For first-time visitors to Taiwan, Tainan could be a big disappointment. Immediately after the handover of Taiwan from Japan, the city experienced a population boom and unfettered urban changes. Today’s Tainan could look a lot like most other Taiwanese cities. It is bustling, chaotic, and exhausting. It is one of those places where it becomes more endearing the longer you linger.

As much as we enjoy visiting temples and shrines, I am happy that Tainan has begun embracing the latest generation of contemporary architecture. On our recent four-day visit to Tainan, I made a point of visiting a few of the city’s most notable new projects. Completed all in the past decade, they represented a new face of Tainan and the rejuvenation of this historic capital.

Tainan Lòng Story

Among all the contemporary buildings in Tainan, the most intriguing would be a little building called Tainan Lòng Story (南埕衖事). Situated right across from Koxinga Ancestral Shrine, this inconspicuous building is understated and exceedingly narrow. The building facade is dominated by semi-exterior staircases weaving in and out of the buildings. They immediately remind us of New York’s ubiquitous fire escapes. However, such architectural features are virtually unknown in Taiwan and are quite an object of curiosity.

But for anyone who cares to look more closely, it is obvious that they are not functional. The staircases to nowhere are the favorite among architecture students. However, they are seldom realized because of the exorbitant cost and local building codes. As a practicing architect, I can confirm staircases are often the most complicated building features to get right. Integrating all these stairs within the existing concrete structure is a feat of architectural planning and a place of wonder.

External staircases of Tainan Lòng Story.

Japanese architect Sou Fujimoto designed the unusual building with a rather torturous history. The building owner approached him to convert a 60-year-old hotel into a state-of-the-art youth hostel. On one of Fujimoto’s research visits, he was captivated by Tainan’s dense network of alleyways. He had an idea of recreating vertical alleyways that span the entire height of the facade. The staircases to nowhere are a metaphor for the city’s dead-end alleyways. I can’t speak to the merit of the metaphor, but I must applaud the purity of the architectural concept.

A major challenge for the design was passing the city’s fire code. In emergencies, the staircase to nowhere could be a deathtrap. Many flights of stairs are also narrower than the regulations allowed. To expedite the project, the local architect of record simplified it to bring it up to code. The unauthorized changes diluted the design and prompted Fujimoto to distance himself from the project. It took a year for the building owners to convince him to get back onto the project team.

Personally, I am very curious about all the iterations of the design and just how watered down that intermediary design was from the original vision. Having visited the building, I am still not sure how the project got through the approval process. The most unusual aspect of these stairs would be that they could only be visited with a guided tour. I suspected the city mandates the supervision of all visitors as a precondition for operation. And because these staircases are exposed to the elements, they are also closed during inclement weather to prevent accidents.

According to the guide, it was too difficult to operate the hostel here due to all the “functional constraints.” Instead, this eight-story building is now a creamery and an Instagram hotspot. The actual public entrance to the whole complex is in the back alley. The backside of the building is completely different from the front. The complex was a lot bigger than it appeared. The building is split into two parts, and the two halves have different personalities.

At the entrance, visitors could decide which part of the building they wish to visit. The front section is the vertical labyrinth of staircases. The guided tour costs between 300 and 350 NTD and leaves every twenty minutes. Honestly, 300 NTD is quite a lot of money to see some staircases. So I was surprised that the tour we were on was sold out. To my surprise, this front section has no other amenities besides the stairs. While it is architecturally complex, it was not as interesting as I imagined. But I could see why this place is so popular among young people.

The back half of the building is dedicated to a cafe and design boutique, which spreads over multiple floors. There are plenty of seatings, all with wonderful views and tasteful furniture. The industrial-minimalist interior is accentuated with bare concrete structural frames and floor-to-ceiling windows. But the highlight of the whole visit has got to be the luscious rooftop garden. With a few dozen plants suspended from the canopy above, the roof terrace may be a contemporary example of the ”hanging garden.” But just be warned that the roof garden has no elevator access.

The interior screens at Tainan Lòng Story.

At the end of the visit, I am thoroughly impressed by the building on the architectural level. But on the practical level, I am less convinced. One-half of the building could only be visited by staff supervision, and the half is a large cafe that charges stiff admission. The architectural ingenuity of the building is obvious, but the maintenance cost must also be astronomical. Barely a year after opening, those staircases already have significant wear and tear. I only hope enough tourists are coming to Tainan to keep the place afloat. Perhaps they could host a full-service restaurant in the future.

Tainan Art Museum - Building 2

For a historic city, Tainan seemed very daring with its embracing of bold architecture in the city center. The prime example would be the newly inaugurated “Building 2” of the Tainan Art Museum (台南市美術館2館). Commissioned to house the museum’s contemporary art collection, the building occupies the city’s most coveted plot. The design was meant to be “different” and stand out from its surroundings. The structure comprises nearly two dozen rectangular blocks arranged in a rough pyramidal form. The entire building was then topped with a pentagonal-shaped canopy. It was unlike any other building I could think of.

View of Tainan Art Museum from Lakeshore Hotel Tainan.

The unorthodox building is the work of Japanese architect Shigeru Ban (坂茂), the 2014 Pritzker Prize winner. From the moment I saw the design competition rendering, the complexity of the design took me aback. The dozens or so terraces may be great for panoramic views and recreational uses, but they must be a nightmare for maintenance and security. The terraces, entrances, and staircases make the building a place of discovery and disorientation. The buildings’ chaotic exterior seems like a commentary on Tainan’s urban scheme.

The exterior of the museum is quite a mess.

Before our trip, I was completely mesmerized by the design. I purposefully booked a hotel across the street from the museum. However, I found the museum neither photogenic nor impressive in person. Despite plenty of greeneries and beautiful white stucco, the overall impression was chaos. Functionally speaking, the building design makes a lot of sense. Each cubical mass represents a gallery space. The building is as visually simple as it could be. I found the interior of the museum to be far more interesting.

About half a dozen “gallery blocks” are arranged around a light-filled central courtyard on each level. Because of the highly irregular floor plans, the museum map is just an architectural model in the middle of the atrium. This was hands-down the most beautiful and effective map I ever came across. It may still be difficult to orient ourselves, but we began to appreciate the actual simplicity of the architect’s vision.

The rooftop cafe of the Tainan Art Museum.

Our visit started at the museum rooftop terrace, fully enclosed and shaded with a giant canopy. The external canopy is decorative with a vast array of fractal patterns called Sierpiński triangle. The design casts a wonderful shade down into the central atrium. The overall effects are stunning and are reminiscent of Jean Nouvel’s canopy for Louvre Abu Dhabi. While splendid, I can’t help wondering about the thermal heat gain throughout most of the year. The cooling costs for the building must be astronomical. On the rooftop are a design boutique and a well-regarded cafe serving some beautifully presented dishes. This is supposed to be one of the best spots to take in Tainan’s skyline.

By all accounts, Taiwan’s contemporary art scheme has been thriving for the past two decades. I am happy that the museum is dedicated to showcasing works by Taiwanese artists. When I was a kid, most public art museums in Taiwan focused on works by Western, Japanese, or classical Chinese artists. In all honesty, most of us could not name a single Taiwanese artist. But with a distinctive Taiwanese identity on the rise, Taiwanese are now very proud of the island’s approachable art scheme. Classical Chinese art, like those in Taipei’s National Palace Museum, seems more like a domain for foreign tourists.

As far as I know, the museum mostly stages rotating exhibits, so I will not comment much about specific works. However, there is one piece that left a deep impression on me. In one of the exhibit halls is a giant canvas that measures over 30 feet in length. Titled A 100km Walk, the piece is composed of countless pencil lines that crisscross the entire length of the canvas. This abstract work is a physical documentation of a ten-kilometer walk by artist Shi Jin-Hua (石晉華). Holding a pencil and wearing hiking boots, Shi explored the meditated nature of artistic creation.

Walking and repetition have long been a form of meditation in many religions. As a veteran of Camino de Santiago, I remembered the story about how many pilgrims of medieval times would pace around their own courtyard instead of walking to Rome or Santiago de Compostela. This decidedly modern piece seems like a perfect encapsulation of a modern pilgrimage.

Tainan Spring

When it comes to designs by “starchitects,” Tainan’s most famous architectural project would probably be Tainan Spring (河樂廣場). This understated project is the work of the world-famous studio MVRDV. The Rotterdam-based practice is known for its daring design and careful consideration of urban rejuvenation. Among their most notable projects is the Rotterdam Market Hall design, perhaps the most innovative mixed-use building in Europe. So when Tainan planned to revitalize its long-neglected riverfront, the city turned to MVRDV to create a centerpiece.

The park is located at the terminus of a major boulevard. A shopping bazaar called China-Town Hall (中國城) once stood on this site. It was an early work of Chu-yuan Lee, the architect behind Taipei 101 and Kaohsiung 85 Sky Tower. The concrete structure is adorned with traditional Chinese motifs such as corbel brackets and swallowtail roofs. It was a beloved landmark of its own sights and an emblem of the boom times of the so-called “Taiwan Miracle.” However, the mall has outlived its usefulness and is no match to modern shopping malls. The low ceilings and dense structural grid made converting it to a different use challenging.

Acknowledging the memory of China-Town Hall, MVRDV left remnants of China-Town Hall in place. According to the architect, the debris from the demolition was meticulously recycled. The mall’s underground parking garage is not transformed into a sunken plaza or recreational space. Working with the existing underground structure, the architect created an arcade around the plaza, creating an ideal respite from Tainan’s intense sun. Many segments of the aboveground structure were carefully preserved and memorialized. Its design seems like a nod to the ruins of Roma forums or Greek agora. There is something quite heroic about the end result.

What made this urban space so unique is the series of shallow pools, with fluctuating water levels reflecting the four seasons of Taiwan. To better alleviate the oppressive summer heat, hot weather mist sprayers were planned out to reduce the use of air conditioning. Unfortunately, we visited Tainan in April, the end of the dry season. The water in the pool was completely dried out, and the entire sunken plaza was fenced off. We sure were disappointed, but it still did not take away the elegance of the design.

For many local residents, the biggest upside of Tainan Spring was the new vista toward the river. This visual connection to the river was part of the plan to reorient the city toward its historic waterfront. Along with the creation of the sunken plaza, the adjacent boulevard was also revitalized with public arts and vegetation. Objectively speaking, Tainan Spring may not be the most exciting architectural project. But it demonstrates just how, with ingenuity and modest investment, the city could become one of the most dynamic cities in Taiwan.

Chimei Museum

To round out my list of Tainan’s “new architecture”, I can’t help but mention Chimei Museum (奇美博物館) on the outskirts of the city. This massive museum is the brainchild of multi-billionaire Shi Wen-long (許文龍), the founder of Chi Mei Corporation, the world’s largest maker of ABS resin. An active collector and amateur violin player, Shi began collecting antique violins in the 1970s. Over the decades, his passion for collections extended beyond musical instruments to arts and other cultural artifacts. Shi frequented Tainan State Education Museum when he grew up in colonial Tainan. From an early age, he vowed to create his own private museum.

His growing collection was initially housed in the administrative building of his company. In 2015, a newly commissioned building opened with great fanfare. Chimei Museum is not Taiwan’s largest private museum and what Forbes magazine once called “one of the world's most surprising art collections.” All the accolades aside, what drew me to this museum is its unusual architecture. The massive building is a collage of all the greatest hits of Western architecture. From the dome of Saint Peter’s Basilica at the Vatican to the front portico of the White House, the Chimei Museum is an architectural Frankenstein. There is even a replica of the Fountain of Apollo of Versailles.

Even the central rotunda looks pretty odd.

Although this museum building is well-received among the Taiwanese public, it is quite a stunning eyesore to most architects. Replicating famous monuments may have a long tradition in Western architecture, but this is perhaps the most offensive example I have encountered. My biggest gripe about the design is the lack of consideration for proportions and materiality. I could list out more than a dozen “mistakes” as far as classical architecture is concerned. It would be fun to do a dissertation on what went wrong with this hodgepodge of a design.

Once inside, the absurdity of the design continues. The lobby resembles a very expensive shopping mall in the Midwest. It follows no classical conventions and looks slightly like a Cheesecake Factory. I can’t fathom how the architect didn’t just faithfully copy the classic. I can’t help feeling this was such a missed opportunity. Wouldn’t it be better if the founder funded a building celebrating the design talents of Taiwan?

While the museum's core collection was vintage musical instruments, the museum is filled with a wide variety of artifacts. One of the first exhibition halls is many taxidermy of faunas worldwide. At first, I was quite taken aback by the randomness of the exhibit. I may be an amateur, but we were all thoroughly impressed by the quality of the exhibits by the end. Across the hall is a vast array of antique weaponry collected by Shi. Having frequented New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Arts over the years, I find Chimei’s collections just as impressive.

The upper galleries are roughly divided into two sections. On the one side are European paintings, which I did not pursue due to the lack of time. However, I did notice that the collection includes works by masters like El Greco and Friedrich von Amerling. However, the true highlight of the entire museum must be the collection of vintage musical instruments. The exhibit provides a wonderful survey of all the classic instruments and how each instrument fits in an orchestra. They have four violins by Antonio Stradivari and two violins by Giuseppe Guarneri. The museum loans many of its instruments to visiting musicians. A visit to the Chimei Museum is a must for music lovers of all ages.

Objectively speaking, Chimei is one of the oddest places I have ever visited. On one hand, I was thoroughly impressed with the quality of the exhibits. Shi Wen-long put his fortune to good use and for the benefit of society. However, the museum’s building is a poor example of cultural appropriation. It is as absurd as all the fake European cities in China. Blind copying, in isolation from the broader cultural context, is not a worthwhile cultural endeavor.

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Tainan Lòng Story

Tainan Art Museum - Building 2

Tainan Spring

Chimei Museum

A Taiwanese Tale of Two Theaters

A round-the-world Tour Through Atlas Studios