Walking through the little lanes of Lukang, you can see houses that are over 200 years old. It’s like traveling through time.
 

Two-hundred-plus years ago, Lukang was one of Taiwan’s major trading ports. Local prosperity led to the rise of rich and influential families, and some important businesspeople got their start in this town. No one foresaw that one day the harbor would be closed by siltation, that large numbers of people would move away, and that even the mansions of the wealthy would go to rack and ruin. Fortunately, there is a group of people in the current generation who are looking at old houses here with a fresh eye, and are fixing up these spaces and bringing them back to life. They want to use a new style to bring Lukang’s historic vitality into the present day.

Red bricks, winding lanes, traditional shops and residences… these are what tourists see while casually strolling through Lukang’s heritage zone. Here, most people visit Yaolin Street and Butou Street, which are decor­ated with lanterns and streamers and display a dazzling array of souvenirs for sale. Yet just one street over, in Houche Lane, you won’t find colorful shop signs, but you will see local people living their every­day lives.

Fixing up old houses

Walking along Houche Lane, you can’t help but frequently try to catch a glimpse of the insides of the buildings. Among them is Smalleye Backpacker, a hostel whose bright and colorful entrance attracts passers­­by to stop and have a look. This is the second old house restored by returned Lukang native George Hsu, and it retains elements of the traditional residence, which have been put to good use.

Back in 2001, Hsu, who is now 51 years old, founded the Small Town Culture Association in Lukang, hoping to rediscover the cultural roots of his hometown. He argues, “The beauty of Lukang is not limited to Lung­shan Temple and the Mazu Temple. A lot of its old houses are also culturally important.” As a result, Hsu first restored a structure in Houche Lane which was formerly a drinking establishment with hostesses and turned it into a tea­house. Then he reached an arrangement with the owner of the building that is now Smalleye Backpacker whereby he makes renovations free of charge in lieu of future rent.

There are two major obstacles to fixing up old houses: the property rights are often unclear, and owners may feel there is not much to be gained by renovating the buildings. At first the owner of the Smalleye Backpacker building was not willing to take the trouble to restore the structure, but Hsu said to him: “Is your house an asset or a liability? If you don’t fix it up, it’s a liability.” These words caused the owner to rethink his position, and he consented to turning the house over to a professional team to renovate it into a backpacker hostel. To date some 30,000 people have stayed at Smalleye Backpacker, where they have enjoyed sharing their impressions of Lukang.

Creating in an old house: 2in Studio

There is another century-old house next to the Smalleye Backpacker hostel, where a husband-and-wife team of artists live: woodworking master Chen Chun Wei and plant-based dye expert Pan ­Chiung Hui.

After moving in, the couple gave the house the ­Chinese name of “Lianglu Studio” (though its English name is “2in Studio”). Liang literally means “beam” and conjures up an image of a large tree, while lu means “dew” and connotes a gift bestowed by a higher power. Chen and Pan hoped to be like a seed that turns into a magnificent tree by absorbing the gifts of nature, offering a profusion of color in return. When you walk into the house, on one side you will see an exhibition space and on the other a workshop. Going farther in, you come upon a room for the worship of the Holy Emperor Guan, which is also the place where guests are normally hosted. Finally, all the way at the back, in a world all its own, there is a three-sided compound, a venue for creative work which Chen had long dreamed of having.

As we look around the old house with the couple, their faces light up with proud smiles when they talk about the history of each corner: “Come look at this pillar, it’s at least 100 years old! Actually we’ve thought about replacing it with a new one, but current construction materials may not be as solid as the originals.” Chen feels that many people do not appreciate the value of historic heritage, and every time he sees discarded pillars left casually on the ground during temple renovations, he feels sad. So he took old window frames that had been torn out of the walls and turned them into a small wooden table, allowing the old mater­ials to take on a new form.

When I ask Chen what influence Lukang has had on his work, he points to the deity’s altar and says: “In the past I felt that the woodwork in Lukang was too complex and old-fashioned, but now I’ve discovered that there’s meaning behind every line.” Working in the quiet atmosphere of this old town, he has incorporated his wife’s expertise in plant-based dyes into his work, creating “azure dyed stools” for which they won a Red Dot Design Award from Germany. Meanwhile, Pan ­Chiung Hui has made woolen felt seat cushions based on mung bean cakes, a product for which Lukang is fam­ous. With a smile she says: “In the past, we came up with creative ideas just for their own sake, but now we get our inspiration from the environment we live in.”
 

Mutual trust between the homeowner and the renovation team is the most important thing during the restoration of an old house.
 

A cinematic perspective

Susan Hung, another young person who has returned to her hometown, brings her expertise in films into play to help local people see their familiar town from new ­angles. Her series of workshops entitled “25 Local Aesthetics” uses an interactive approach to connect residents with the environ­ment. “I ask everyone to use their hands to mimic the frame of a camera viewfinder and look at Lukang through it, and then think about what images they would want to reproduce and interpret if they were a filmmaker.” Everyone knows that there are many old houses in Lukang, but few people are aware that many movies have been shot here, and much less have they thought about what angles look good.

“On the face of it, my workshops seem to be aimed at children, but in fact my target audience also includes the parents and grandparents who bring the kids in.” Hung says that few adults will sign up for local culture workshops, but they are willing to bring their children to attend. Some parents at first just watch from the sidelines, but eventually they also form camera frames with their hands and excitedly search for their favorite Lukang scenes.

Given such an enthusiastic response to her work, it’s hard to imagine that when Hung first returned home she was treated as an outsider. She was able to re­integrate herself only after realizing that her expertise in films was her best way of engaging with the community, and only after it became known that her father was actually a local. “My father is the reason I wanted to come back to Lukang. It started from my master’s thesis. At that time I was researching images of social unrest in films from the 1980s, and I saw that during the social movement by Lukang residents to oppose the construction of a factory nearby by DuPont, a guy in a demonstration drove his vehicle into the riot police, and that guy was my father!” Hung at that moment felt that her father was brave, but that this was a side of him that was unfamiliar to her. She could not hear any stories from her father’s own mouth because he had gone into a persistent vegetative state after a separate traffic accident. She therefore decided to return to her hometown to continue in the spirit of her father’s devotion to this place.

Repurposing old houses

Young people returning to their hometown, fixing up old houses… it all sounds romantic, doesn’t it? But in fact it requires hard-nosed practicality. Chang Ching-yeh, who returned to Lukang in 2012, was inspired by young people from the Italian island of Sardinia who returned home each year to help make preparations for music and other festivals held there, and so he came up with the idea of holding an arts festival in Lukang. He founded the Kids from Lukang Company, and through neighbor­hood cleanups and public forums steadily got to know the area. As more people joined in, his team founded the Lukang Renaissance Association to in­depend­ently organize a variety of community events.

“For an old town to achieve renewal, people first have to come back to the local environment and consider how to interact with the town and how to link enterprises with spaces. The key to renewing old houses is that you have to use your imagination to find what you need in a given space.” While one of Chang’s partners, Hsu Chu-hui, was fixing up his family’s century-old house, it became an exhibition venue for the 2016 Lukang Arts Festival, and the area under the house’s front overhang served as a bar. Hsu had originally had no particular plan for the old house, but the sight of people drinking and chatting there inspired him to turn it into a pub.

Hsu’s great-grandfather had had a rice shop there named “Hsu Shengfeng’s Shop,” and in remembrance of his ancestor, Hsu Chu-hui called his new establishment the “Shengfeng Bar” in Chinese (though its English name is the “Home Bar”). It is currently Lukang’s only pub. He says: “In fact I have a very simple goal. If I can sell a few drinks per day, so that at least I’m not losing money, then that’s enough. The important thing is that young people have a place they can go when they come back home on weekends and holidays.”

The second floor of the Home Bar is now home to Chang Ching-yeh’s team. With their own abundant experi­ence of returning home to engage in entre­preneur­ship, a few years ago they set up the Lukang Future Center to help young people who want to found businesses in Lukang to learn the necessary professional skills. They also hope to build on the team’s experience and help these young people understand the challenges they will encounter in the future. “If you want to live here, the key is to have a business. Our survival is the basis for a lot of interesting things to happen here.” Chang, with a determined look in his eye, says that he and others like him will continue to live in Lukang despite the difficulties they face, because culture will only endure if it is based in daily life.