Taiwanese society began to move towards modern consumerism in the 1930s, when department stores of unprecedented size opened their doors, offering access to a dazzling variety of merchandise. The shifting tides of time have since swept away these commercial giants. But with the repurposing of the buildings they once occupied, what visions are the new business ventures likely to conjure up in our imaginations?
Set in the 1930s, Taiwanese manhua artist Akru’s Scrolls of a Northern City (2011) presents a vivid portrait of Japanese Taiwan’s Sakaechō, Taipei’s most vibrant shopping district. The book evokes the jokyu (waitress/hostess) culture in the cafes of that era, the splendors of Kikumoto (Taiwan’s first department store, which opened in 1932), the Taiwan Exposition of 1935 (commemorating the first four decades of Japanese rule), and an array of other events in the busy district.
Behind glass curtain walls: Kikumoto
The Sakaechō depicted by Akru was the area where Hengyang Road, Baoqing Road, Xiushan Street, Bo’ai Road, and Yanping South Road now run. Architectural vestiges of the Japanese age abound in this part of Taipei.
Of these silent witnesses to Taipei’s history, the building once occupied by Kikumoto—a seven-story department store nicknamed Seven Heavens—is the most pitiable. One of Taiwan’s earliest reinforced concrete buildings, it has survived many earthquakes since its completion in 1932. In 2017 the edifice was designated as a historic building. However, successive changes of ownership mean that it has been subjected to renovations and makeovers, with its original architectural features now enveloped by glass curtain walls. Architecture professor Janus Kuo describes it as “a sleeping beauty in a glass coffin.”
Architectural heritage scholar Ling Tzung-kuei retraces for us the history of department stores. The Industrial Revolution in the 18th century led to the rapid manufacturing of a diverse range of objects—a process that substantially altered existing consumption patterns. As affluent people began to pursue novel shopping experiences, large exhibitions were held across the world to showcase exotic products.
With development continuing apace under Japanese rule in the 1930s, shops specializing in imported Western merchandise cropped up in different parts of Taiwan. Three of them stood out from the rest: Kikumoto in Taipei, Hayashi in Tainan, and Yoshii in Kaohsiung (the building of the last has been demolished).
Many department stores in Japan have their origins in the garment industry. The same can be said of their Taiwanese counterparts. Taiwan’s first department store, Kikumoto, was created by Eiji Shigeta, a merchant of traditional Japanese clothing who came from the Japanese prefecture of Yamaguchi. The success of Shigeta’s business in Taipei’s Dadaocheng enabled him to purchase premises in Sakaechō for a more ambitious enterprise.
The building for this new establishment was designed by Japanese civil engineer Chouichi Furukawa, chief of architecture at the Taiwan Land and Building Company. Considering Taiwan’s intense sunshine and abundant rainfall, Furukawa opted for covered sidewalks to provide shelter from both. Ling Tzung-kuei, who has explored the interior of the building in its current state, says that it retains its original setbacks from the fifth to the seventh floors. This structural design was inspired by New York’s 1916 Zoning Resolution, which required that skyscrapers have recessed upper floors in order to allow more sunlight to reach the streets below, and to alleviate the sense of oppression imposed by massive buildings.
Fabulous creativity: Shinshūya/Or House
Recently, a large-scale photographic reproduction of Kikumoto’s original facade has been attached to the curtain walls, and there is news that a major renovation project will restore the site to its former glory. Another example is Shinshūya (Xinzhouwu in Chinese) in Hsinchu City’s Old Town, reincarnated in late 2023 as Or House.
Established in 1934, Shinshūya was Hsinchu’s first department store. The first-generation owner, Dai Wushi, was an eminent local merchant who had started out selling Western products at Dongmen Market. The premises are now owned by Or, a team devoted to enhancing Hsinchu’s cultural presence by operating on the model of “distributed museums,” whereby it has created a constellation of sites catering to the public’s cravings for creativity.
Shen Ting-ru, manager of Or House, says that in order to preserve as much of Shinshūya’s historic charm as possible, the team interviewed its former owners and commissioned X-Basic Planning to study and restore the four-story building, before inviting II Design and Mizuiro Design to lay out the interior space, which is now dedicated to food culture. They have spared no effort to achieve a perfect blend of old and new.
The Or team insisted on restoring the facade fully to its original appearance. The ribbed tiles—of a kind that gained currency in Taiwan from the 1920s onwards—have been thoroughly cleaned to revive the warmth of their beige color. The upper-story frontage sports rectangular and round motifs in the form of the window frames, an ornamental lamp, and decorative railings. The Art Deco architecture strikes a fashionable yet retro pose, exuding a faintly cheeky vibe. As a whole, the building “gives expression to the fabulous creativity of that era,” says Shen.
Stepping inside, we find spaces whose style resonates with that of the exterior. The layout is bold, with each floor boasting a very different design. The new furnishings incorporate elements that deliberately echo the geometric motifs of the windows. The bar on the first floor is oval in shape, but the space it encloses is rectangular. The new gray rendered walls on the second floor have round openings that reveal the old red bricks behind. The third floor retains its original interior arch, together with a semicircular pond on the balcony.
Ascending to the top floor, we look back on the days when Shinshūya towered over the single-story houses in the neighborhood. From here one could gain an uninterrupted view towards Nanliao Harbor in the distance. Shen tells us that when descendants of Dai Wushi revisited the house, they recalled that as children they used to play on the swing here, with fish swimming next to them in the pond. There was even a dance party here, with more than 200 people paying to attend. It is tantalizing to imagine the lives of these well-heeled bons viveurs in that age.
The renovation and reincarnation of Shinshūya prompted members of the Dai family to come back on a pilgrimage to their old house from as far away as the USA and Sweden. Indeed, the reopening of a restored historic site can help fill gaps in collective memories, but these memories matter not only to the owners of the premises, but also to others whose lives have intersected with the place.
A window on Tainan: Hayashi
Opening its doors in 1934, the Hayashi department store was situated in what was then the most prosperous area of Tainan: Suehirochō (today’s Zhongzheng Road business district). Five stories high, Hayashi was one of the two department stores in Taiwan with elevators, the other being Kikumoto.
The Japanese colonial era came to a close at the end of World War II. With Japanese residents leaving Taiwan, Hayashi put up the shutters. Its enormous space was requisitioned, serving as offices for public bodies, and as living quarters for the air force. Eventually the building fell into disuse, and lay abandoned for several decades—until 1998, when it was named as a municipal historic site. After extensive renovation, the local company Koche Fashion was commissioned to turn it into a department store specializing in cultural and creative products. The new enterprise was launched in 2014, continuing to trade under the name of Hayashi.
Hayashi is Taiwan’s oldest and smallest department store. Itself embodying the history of its building, Hayashi is strikingly different from the chain department stores run by conglomerates. Various parts of its original elevator—which used to mark Hayashi out as a fashionable venue—have been retained, including the retro floor indicator dials and the shaft vents. Hayashi is home to the only rooftop Shinto shrine in Taiwan and also preserves remnants of the manually operated roller doors of the old days. These architectural details make Hayashi into a veritable time capsule.
However, while Hayashi in its early days sold a wide range of novel products from abroad, its reincarnation puts a spotlight on the culture and industries of Tainan. For example, the third floor is decorated with translucent fabrics that show patterns of the flaming red flowers of royal poinciana (Delonix regia)—Tainan’s signature tree—produced by Ming Lin Lace, an old local company. The shelves display an abundance of objects characteristic of Tainan, such as fashionable tote bags from Houbi District, inspired by traditional shopping bags; canvas bags printed with distinctively local motifs such as mullet roes and blue-and-white flip-flops, made by the century-old local fabric shop Gimgoanheng; and classic items that visitors to Tainan love to buy, including dried fruits, phòng-piánn puffed-up pastries, and tealeaves from historic tea merchants. The range is enormous.
“While the Hayashi of yore opened a window on the wider world for Tainan people, the new Hayashi aims to provide a window on Tainan for the world,” says Tsai Wei-jung, a marketing communications officer at the department store. No wonder foreign tourists put Hayashi on their must-visit lists.
Repositories of local memories
Department stores embody the transition of Taiwanese society to modern consumerism, serving as repositories of memory for local residents. In the 1930s, Taiwan’s department stores were invariably situated in prosperous urban districts. Overlooking busy crossroads, they featured eye-catching facades and window displays that fired the imagination. In addition to shopping, people came to these places to dine in an upper-floor restaurant, or to experience the excitement of ascending in an elevator to the top floor, where they took in the surrounding cityscape. Characteristics like these still account for much of the appeal of department stores today.
The end of the Japanese era in 1945 brought about ruptures in the Taiwanese people’s memories of local spaces. But these vicissitudes of time also bring the importance of our historic department stores into focus. Epitomizing Taiwan’s embrace of modern consumerism, these places not only offer insights into the architectural styles and techniques of their times, but also continue to function as locations where people shop, enjoy themselves, and catch up with others. Ling Tzung-kuei, who has long been concerned about the future of Kikumoto, says: “There are so many opportunities to build new department stores, but we rarely get to preserve a historic one. Only three of them are left in Taiwan, and Kikumoto is the oldest. Isn’t that something very meaningful?” The raison d’être of these places lies precisely in their capacity to store and safeguard the memories of everyone who has rubbed shoulders with them.
