Chiayi bookstore owner takes grassroots approach to social causes

Yu Kwok-shun believes cultural development requires vision and devotion. (Photo: June Tsai)

By June Tsai

The Chiayi Market Fair drew throngs of families and individuals May 29 with its organic produce, local crafts and exhibition of old locomotives. Held once a month outside a defunct thermal power plant built in 1913, the fair is the brainchild of Yu Kwok-shun, founder of Hoanya Bookstore.

Yu named his bookstore after the Hoanya, an indigenous plains tribe that once inhabited the central coast area of Taiwan. He calls the shop “the most socially active bookstore south of the Zhuoshui River”—Taiwan’s longest waterway and a symbol of the inequalities between the advanced north and the grassroots south.

His choice of the name and characterization of his store say much about the ambition of the energetic and patient Yu.

Yu opened the bookshop in downtown Chiayi in November 1999, when he was 22. Books on literature, history, indigenous cultures, nature and the environment fill the shelves in the 30-square-meter space, along with products by aboriginal artisans, CDs and pamphlets on various social issues. Regular seminars, live music and film screenings bring people from throughout southern Taiwan to share ideas on current events.

Readers do not come here to look for bestsellers. And Yu, the only staff member, is often out taking part in demonstrations or promoting environmental and preservationist causes.

According to Yu, about a decade ago Chiayi jumped on the national bandwagon of urban renewal. Old houses and facilities were in danger of being replaced by new construction and road broadening. This prompted him to ask if such projects necessarily entail destroying old buildings. Can development and cultural heritage not go hand in hand in a city with 300 years of history?

Yu was among the first concerned locals to intervene in the development proposal that would have demolished the old Chiayi Prison, the only surviving Japanese-era (1895-1945) penitentiary in Taiwan, with its famous winged radial design.

The centrally located prison fell into disuse in 2000, and the municipal government intended to sell it. “Before any deal was done, my friends and I worked hard to persuade officials and city councilors to let us try and revive the space for public use and see how people would respond to it,” Yu said.

They negotiated with borough wardens and talked to local residents, while rallying nongovernmental organizations to start a series of historic and field studies related to the prison.

Prison administrators gave a tentative nod to their revival proposal, which was backed by scholars, artists and local businesses. The preservation endeavor crystallized into a successful art festival in 2002, with exhibitions, performances, prison tours, painting competitions and a market fair attracting thousands of visitors. The activity changed local people’s impressions of the prison and aroused their interest in its revival as a museum.

With sponsorship from the National Youth Commission and Chiayi Prison, in 2004 Hoanya began to organize summer camps for students from around the country to experience prison culture and learn about penal history. They proved to be very popular, and the Ministry of Justice then decided to help create the prison museum, and renovation got under way.

Hoanya has since been involved in several cultural heritage preservation initiatives, but not all were successful. “We failed to prevent the demolition of other Japanese-era public buildings, such as the former Revenue Office and old City Hall,” Yu said.

But when Yu decided to buy the Yushan Hostel, next to Beimen Train Station, the jumping off point for Taiwan’s world-renowned narrow-gauge Alishan Forest Railway, even his friends were surprised. Built in 1950 and named after Taiwan’s highest peak, the hostel served for several decades as bargain accommodation for fruit and vegetable vendors commuting between the mountains and the city before it went out of business in 2007.

“I wanted to rescue this place, with its close historic links to the forest railway,” Yu said. He also envisioned turning it into another base for social activism.

Without a concrete idea on how to proceed, he first rented the building. “It was in really bad condition at the time,” Yu said. He convinced friends and local woodworkers to supply money and technical know-how for its renovation, which was completed in eight months. Yushan reopened in August 2009.

The first floor is a cafe serving fair trade coffee, tea and organic food products. Wooden stairs lead to rooms and a common area on the second floor. Within a year, the lodging had become a backpackers’ favorite.

Members of the Hoanya Cultural Association, which Yu founded in 2008 to integrate local civic movements, run the place. Customers are drawn to the hostel via the Internet and Taiwan’s NGO networks.

“We preserve the old while sharing latest environmental ideas and practices, and people like it,” said Chang Szu-hsien, current Yushan manager.

“The revival work, we hope, can also serve as an example to the public, showing how cultural ideas can create economic value without anyone having to throw in big bucks,” she said.

Through such efforts HCA has gradually become a cultural centerpiece in Chiayi, engaging a growing number of people from all walks of life in the transformation of the city into a much sought-after destination for in-depth tours.

Yu believes that cultural preservation and development takes continuous effort by different people to bear fruit. “People in Taiwan have a penchant for gala festivals, which like fireworks create one burst of light and then are over.”

Celebrations for the nation’s centennial are a case in point, he said. “The centenary is good to spark creativity. But so far, there are more one-off events than reflections on our history and long-running projects with a trajectory into the future.

“Our vision should be directed toward the next 100 years,” he said, “allowing any cultural program to continue without interruption due to administrative personnel changes or partisan concerns.” The lack of real vision and continuity in the government’s cultural policies has alienated civic organizations and individual cultural workers, he added.

There has been some improvement over the past decade, however. “People have become more aware of the importance of culture, and this has incidentally benefited tourism,” Yu said.

Hoanya still has other agendas to pursue, such as creating a platform for debate on the future of the fragile but precious Alishan Forest Railway, subject to frequent damage from torrential rains and typhoons.

“Anyone is welcome to drop by the Yushan Hostel and share opinions with us over a cup of fair trade coffee,” Yu said.

This article first appeared in the online Taiwan Today June 3.

Lu Shao-chia follows his heart to music

Lu Shao-chia.

By June Tsai

Taiwan-born conductor Lu Shao-chia is a man of few words. When it comes to music, he said, he engages himself with the essence, which is beyond words.

“Much can be spoken ‘about’ a work of music, like the life of the composer, the background of his composition, and so on, but these don’t get you to the music itself,” Lu said in an interview with Taiwan Today June 10. “You may know nothing about a composer but still be moved by what you hear.”

During rehearsals, Lu said, “I don’t speak too much—just a few words such as ‘louder here,’ ‘too quick there’—absolutely prosaic and without a bit of fantasy. But details are very important to bring out the images or metaphysical feeling implied in music.”

The 50-year-old conductor began his career in Germany after graduating from Vienna’s Hochschule fur Musik und Darstellende Kunst in 1991. He was principal conductor at the Komische Opera Berlin from 1995 to 1998 and music director of the Staatorcheater Rheinische Philharmonie Koblenz between 1998 and 2004.

Lu served five seasons at the Staatsopera Hannover as music director from 2001 to 2006, becoming a celebrated younger generation conductor, invited to perform operas and orchestral works with many leading European groups. Since 2010, he has been music director for the National Symphony Orchestra of Taiwan.

The idea of becoming a career musician never occurred to him before he was 20, Lu said. Nor was that the intention of Lu’s parents, who had all of their five children receive piano lessons beginning when they were very young.

“It has all just come naturally,” Lu said. He began learning piano at five. At the time Taiwan was still under the rule of the martial law, and the society was relatively closed off from the international community. At home, however, Lu could appreciate Mozart and Beethoven thanks to his father, a country doctor in a Hakka town in northern Taiwan.

“My father adored Western culture, and he worked hard to create a musical environment for his children,” Lu said. “He told me how even before I was of school age I’d pick records out of his collection and ask him to play particular pieces.”

With all his experience making music for audiences around the world, Lu still remembers with gratitude his childhood full of music.

“My father did not plan for his children to become musicians, but for them to be able to appreciate music. And indeed, that period of pure enjoyment has helped me through the ups and downs of my career.”

As a teenager Lu showed talent on the piano but opted to go to a regular high school rather than undergo formal musical training. He then graduated from National Taiwan University with a degree in psychology.

“While in university I thought about giving up psychology and going for music because I really liked it, but I was wondering what I could do since it seemed a bit too late for me to become a professional pianist,” he recalled.

Felix Chen, a Taiwanese conductor and music director with the Taipei Symphony Orchestra, first spotted Lu’s potential when he accompanied student musicians on piano, and suggested he learn conducting.

“I didn’t think I’d be a good conductor because I was an introvert and not verbal, but Chen said something that prompted me to try. He said it is with his hands that a conductor speaks.”

In 1985, Lu went to the U.S. to study conducting at Indiana University Bloomington. Looking for more practical experience, he left a year later to serve as an assistant conductor with TSO. In 1987, he headed for Europe, and soon began to win top prizes at conducting competitions—at France’s International Besancon Competition for Young Conductors, the Antonio Pedrotti International Conducting Competition in Italy and the Kondrashin Conductors’ Competition in Amsterdam.

In 1994, Lu was called back from Europe to sit in for world famous conductor Sergiu Celibidache, who had suddenly fallen ill before a concert in Taiwan with Anton Bruckner, Modest Mussorgsky and his Munich Philharmonic. Lu conducted the originally scheduled program with huge success, bringing him several future invitations to work with the orchestra.

To the delight of local music lovers, Lu returned to Taiwan in 2010 to head the NSO. The decision, he said, was without struggle. “I thought it was time to do something for my native land, offering good music to my people.”

As one who has approached Western music from a different culture, geographically distant from the center of classical music, Lu does not think background is a factor in understanding and interpreting the heart of music.

“Music speaks to everyone. You might need to learn something—the language, religion and history—to help you comprehend a work, but these are peripheral to the essence of music.”

He believes music knows no borders of any kind. “For non-Westerners, I believe we have less burden, and can even be more open-minded, in dealing with musical works by, say, French or German composers—it’s all just music to us.”

Local critic Chiao Yuan-pu relayed a story showing Lu’s sensitivity as a conductor, told to him by French pianist Jean-Efflam Bavouzet. During Bavouzet’s rehearsal with the NSO playing Bela Bartok’s Piano Concerto No. 2 in 2007, the pianist, who speaks Hungarian, noticed how Lu phrased a tricky segment of the piece in a way that made it seem as if he were drawing on the cadences of Hungarian.

“Lu is a very careful music reader, analytical as well as emotional in his quiet communication with a composer,” Chiao said.

He is also a master at bringing musicians together as an ensemble, paying great attention to the exchanges among musical instruments in the articulation of every phrase, the critic said. “He is inspirational for musicians, capable of igniting them to make music rather than just doing a job.”

During the first season under Lu, the NSO is featuring an eclectic repertoire, highlighting Bohemian-Austrian composer Gustav Mahler and fin-de-siecle Vienna. Arnold Schonberg, Anton Webern and Alban Berg are being played side by side with Haydn and Mozart.

In the coming season, Mahler still takes center stage, while the music of Igor Stravinsky and Olivier Messiaen will give local audiences an unusual listening experience.

Lu has no qualms about 20th-century music scaring off the audience. “A bit of explanation of its origin, but not too much, will help get listeners into that world,” he said. “Then let them discover for themselves that musical truth is there, just as it is in Mozart and Beethoven.”

As a composer, he is committed to the pursuit of musical truths, Lu said. “I have never been concerned with becoming rich or famous through music; I just concentrate on the essence of music.”

Lu adores Mahler, whom he believes presents great challenges and opportunities for any ambitious conductor who wants to realize his capacity to the fullest.

Yet even dearer to him are the words of the great composer, vexed by the question of life and death as well as his self-identification as Austrian, Bohemian, German and Jew—while not really belonging to any of these societies.

“He once said he had many questions in mind that he found no answers to, but in composing or conducting, he seemed to have found the answers, or the questions become nonexistent,” Lu said.

“Just pursue musical truths and accept all the challenges this implies,” Lu said, as if to himself. “I am blessed to have the chance to engage with things spiritual, so my hope is to do my best in this limited life to deliver something eternal, to have people experience a moment’s gracing eternity in music.

This article first appeared in online Taiwan Today July 1, 2011.