When Buddhism was gradually accepted by a broader range of followers, temples were built throughout China, including cities remote from the capital. During the process, both Buddhism and its temples were saturated with the Chinese way of life. Temples very soon became much more than religious centers.
Hei-yuan Chiu, a professor of sociology at National Taiwan University, speak of the social roles of a Chinese temple: "Just as the church in a Western community, a temple is an important place for social activities as well religious ones. Actually, Chinese temples have even broader functions in this area than what is found in Western churches, Historically, when the local civil administration had not yet been firmly established, temple priests who were highly regarded often acted as mediators in feuds that arose among people of the neighborhood.
"Moreover, community meetings had always been held in temples. And the large square in front of each temple was also good for recreational and social gatherings. Actually, it is still a common sight in Taiwan's outlying counties to see a group of elders gathered under the shade of a huge banyan tree before the temple. They sit on stools brought from home, chatting aimlessly, playing chess, drinking tea, or singing to the accompaniment of the Chinese instruments played by their friends," Chiu says.
But there are larger social gatherings as well. Chiu adds: "In special occasions, temporary stages are set up for local opera performances and puppet shows. Before movies and television were introduced to the more remote areas of the island, performances in the temple square were the only forms of public entertainment for the local residents."
Chiu also points out a traditional economic function of temples: "In the past, temples in remote areas were also trading centers. On a fixed date once or twice in a month, people of neighboring towns carried their products to the temple square for trading, making a provisional market."
The wide spread of Buddhism in China also exerted considerable influence on Taoism, for believers began to copy selected aspects of the form and content of the Buddhist system. Eventually, Taoism evolved into a religion with places of worship similar to those of Buddhism.
Neither nail nor glue was needed in assembling the soaring wooden vault of Tsushih Temple.
Chinese people have believed for centuries that highly virtuous persons would become gods or goddesses after their death. This idea found expression especially in Taoism, where vast numbers of Taoist deities were originally famous characters in history, literature, or in folklore stories. But Chinese Buddhism shares similar orientations. For instance, wealthy believers—and sometimes large numbers of common people—would band together to build temples for deceased monks, who were considered "awakening to Truth."
As a result, Chinese temples may be divided into three groups according to the gods enshrined: those of orthodox Buddhism where believers go to worship deities of Indian origin; the temples of "popular Buddhism," where homage is paid to exceptional Chinese high-ranking monks who have become gods; and the temples of Taoism with many deified historical characters.
Despite their different orientations and content, all three temple categories have similar architectural structures. Visitors enter the temple complex through an arched gate to find three temples arrayed inside the walls, plus a drum tower and a bell tower located at each side of the courtyard.
In a Buddhist temple complex, the first temple is the Heavenly King Tien, and is occupied by the statues of the four guardian gods. The second temple, the Ta Hsiung Pao Tien, enshrines the major god or goddess. The third, called the Ta Shih Tien is the classroom where Buddhist sutras are expounded. Surrounding the temples are verandas where the resident monks at times can be round walking and chanting sutras, especially during ceremonial performances.
In a Taoist temple complex, the first temple is simply called the front temple. It is flanked with the door gods familiar from Chinese folklore as its guardians. The shrine or the major god or goddess sits in the center or the second and main temple, with many lesser gods standing on both sides. The third and back temple often enshrines "guest gods," namely, gods or other temples who have been invited to visit for one reason or another. If there are no guest gods, the temple is often dedicated to the parents or the major god or goddess; thus, the back temple is also often called the Parents' Temple. Chambers flanking the temples in the complex serve as offices, meeting rooms, and rest quarters.
About 300 years ago, during the Ching Dynasty, a large number or immigrants crossed the Taiwan Straits from the Chinese mainland to Taiwan. They brought with them the statues or deities worshipped in their hometowns. Not long after they settled on the island's undeveloped plains, the people invited skilled architects and craftsmen from the mainland to build temples to enshrine their gods. In the early years or this pious activity, all the major materials used for building temples—including granite selected for its hardness and fir planks chosen for their durability and resistance to insects- had been shipped from Fukien Province. Many years later, the camphor wood on Taiwan's Mt. Ali, and the stone round on Mt. Kuanyin at Tamsui were discovered to be or high enough quality, and also became popular as appropriate materials for temple building.
The immigrants to Taiwan attributed their safe crossing or the treacherous Taiwan Straits to divine protection; they therefore had special respect for almost all deities. Most temples eventually enshrined the gods or both Buddhism and Taoism. And to show their piety, worshippers in wealthier communities decorated their temples as lavishly as possible, stinting on no luxuries. Patrons asked craftsmen to carve almost every piece or stone and wood, turning each temple into an overwhelmingly complex artistic creation.
Proressor Wolfram Eberhard has conducted extensive field research on temples in Taiwan and round that many temples on the island display prolific decoration: paintings, wood carvings, stone carvings, and impressive bas-relief works. And the wealthier a temple is, the fancier its decoration. But he said it was interesting to discover that "the representations have basically nothing to do with the deities worshipped in the temple."
One column per year—A master craftsman works at Tsushih Temple.
The subjects or most temple representations are instead taken from Chinese folk novels and folk theaters, such as The Romance of the Three Kingdoms, The Legend of Deification, All Men are Brothers, and The Story of the Sui and Tang Dynasties As a result, Eberhard concluded that "the ethical values which the pictures attempt to transmit are ... not religious values. but rather patriotic ones, such as loyalty to the family leader, loyalty to the ruler, selfless service to the ruler, and punishment or those who revolt against the ruler or gods."
Social values, such as filial love, the devoted loyalty or women, and chastity, come as second in importance. Eberhard concluded: "The purpose or the representations in a temple is to communicate certain values to the visitor. They are also supposed to satisfy him aesthetically or at least stimulate him."
Unfortunately, many temples in Taiwan or high artistic value were badly damaged or neglected during the first half or the 20th Century, because or both human and natural disasters. When these were rebuilt, they often retained their traditional appearance, at least superficially, but not their spirit. Concrete and cement was used to replace the expensive stone and wood used earlier. And temple paintings were done by amateurs, while the wood and stone carvings were mass-produced by machine. Despite this wholesale degeneration in temple quality, there were bright exceptions. One is located in Sanhsia, Taipei County.
In 1947, when the Tsushih Temple was planned for renovation. Professor Lee Mei-shu was invited to supervise the project. Lee, who had studied fine arts in Japan, argued firmly for a project that would systematically restore the temple according to traditional architectural methods, with the decorations made entirely by hand.
He gathered together a group or outstanding architects and craftsmen, and started the renovation project on August 17, 1947. Lee dedicated the rest or his life to the work, and when he died in 1983, he was content to sec the completion or the arched entry gate, the drum tower, the bell tower, the front temple with it's majestic bronze statues or the four guardian gods, and the main temple with most of its decorations.
A workshop was originally set up at one side or the temple, and forty years later many of the same craftsmen who began work on the project as young men are still spending their days there, hands fashioning wood and stone as their hair slowly turns gray. Many or the elder craftsmen have already passed away, but their places have been taken by their apprentices whose skills have matured through nurture and extended work.
The main focus or attraction in the temple complex is the elaborate main temple. Visitors are immediately awed by its ornate roof as soon as they have stepped through the arched gate. The carved wooden phoenix and lions on its topmost ridge seem poised for immediate motion, and the grand wooden lanterns hanging from the caves are themselves wondrous works or art.
Two and three-inch thick planks have been carved into fretwork masterpieces, then gilded before being set in place to decorate the roof. The work is so ingenious that the tiny windows and doors in the carvings are as operational as the real objects.
At the front or the main temple, six stone columns fully covered with three-dimensional carvings occupy the eyes or visitors and faithful alike. The center two columns are entwined by a pair or Chinese dragons with lifelike horns, whiskers, scales, and pearly teeth. The outer two are covered with a profusion or birds amid plum blossoms. It is said that they are the donations or Professor Lee, and were intentionally designed to be two "plum trees" (Mei-shu) which is Lee's name. The amazingly refined craftsmanship even reproduced the birds' thin legs and tiny tree twigs. The outermost pair or columns are decorated with 36 warriors and 18 horses taken from the mythological novel entitled The Legend of Deification.
The bottom sections or the temple's marble walls are covered with stone plates carved in exquisite relief. Chang Fu-sung, a senior master craftsman in charge of the reliefs explains the panels: "There are two major patterns: one with birds and flowers, the other with animals and trees. There are about thirty stone plates altogether here, each with different pictures."
Close observation shows that each composition in stone is in fact unique. There are a dozen varieties of flowers, with their petals different in forms, sizes, and positions. Perching on the twigs are the elegant birds favored by all Chinese: cranes, sparrows, mandarin ducks, and pheasants—all symbols of luck and longevity. There are also vivid reproductions of many animals, each seeming alive because of clearly etched fir and whiskers.
Chang further explains the production process of these lovely stone carvings: "First of all, huge rocks are cut into appropriate sizes and chipped into rough plates or columns to meet different needs. Next, the master craftsmen sketch the outlines of the drawings on the rock with pencil. After the apprentices dig out the hollowed parts, the master craftsmen begin carving the outlines of the picture, which are again left for the apprentices to polish. Finally, the master craftsmen carefully carve the details of the picture, such as facial expressions, wrinkles on people's clothing, the veins on a petal or a leaf, and the feathers of a bird." Amazingly, none of the craftsmen has had any formal training in fine arts. They simply sketch a wonderfully complex picture from a likeness in their minds.
The three-dimensional carving on the columns requires exceptionally laborious efforts. The master craftsmen have to do most of the job, refining the carving on the innermost layers first, and slowly working out layer by layer. Since all the work is done by hand, it takes approximately 2,000 days to complete just one column.
"But of course when machines were introduced a dozen years ago," Chang says, "huge rocks could be cut into desired sizes and shapes much more quickly. But the rest of the work still has to be done by hand; at least the working days for a single column can be reduced to a year. It took us almost 30 years to complete the 168 columns of the main temple, and we estimate that it will take another 10 years to finish the stone works for the back temple."
The first step of carving the wood portions of the temple are similar to the stone carving. But the final pictures are much more complicated and delicate, making the process even more painstaking. The master craftsmen first make sketches on paper, then duplicate them on wood before beginning to carve outlines with an array of woodworking tools. The apprentices help with polishing the rough outline. Finally, the master craftsmen carefully carve the details before the finished works are polished again and gilded.
Huang Chin-cheng, a senior master craftsman in wood carving, is understandably proud of his work. He says, "Everything here is done with the same arduousness." He has been working for more than one year on a table which worshippers will use to place sacrificial offerings. He has chosen a dozen scenes from the folk novel The Romance of the Three Kingdoms as decoration for the front, both sides, and the four legs of the table. He has designed the overall composition for each scene, and has drawn each picture separately.
Some of the scenes are carved in bas-relief, others have a more free-standing, individually sculptured appearance. One particular small relief statue of Kuan Kung on horseback stands out as good enough to be regarded as an independent piece of art. Huang has given Kuan Kung a vivid expression, in line with his strong personality in the novel, and the horse's swinging bridle adds a sense of movement and tension to the whole piece.
Turning to the vault of the main temple, the visitor sees a splendid example of traditional Chinese architectural art. It is constructed of many wooden lengths that seem to spiral incessantly together as they form both aesthetic pattern and actual support to the soaring roof. Not one nail or drop of glue has been used; the pieces are wedged tightly together according to the Chinese principles of the union of the yin and the yang.
Cheng Yu-tsai, who is manager of the Tsushih Temple renovation committee, laments that the old architect who built the magnificent vault has passed away. But he adds, "The architects of the next generation are already making preparations to build the back temple. When it is finished in about 15 years, along with all its interior decorations, the lengthy renovation of the Tsushih Temple will finally come to an end."
And by that time, the temple will certainly stand as one of the highest expressions of Chinese architecture in recent times—as well as being a veritable museum of Chinese history, culture, and religion.