Taipei took second place in Asiaweek's 1999 ranking of
forty major cities in Asia in terms of quality of life.
The city's major public construction project, the mass
rapid transit system, was largely responsible for the high
rating. Now the city administration and the central
government are working hand in hand to provide Taipei
residents with another vision: a new Capital Plaza.
When French President Francois Mitterrand commissioned renowned Chinese-American architect I.M. Pei to design a new visitor entrance to the Louvre complex in 1983, many French citizens were furious at the selection of a foreigner. Pei's proposal to base the structure on the non-European form of a pyramid aroused additional criticism, and construction started amid a nationwide storm of objections. But six years later when the Louvre Pyramid was unveiled to great acclaim, Pei proved to the French people and the world that Mitterrand was a man of vision. Pei's interpretation of modern design restored France to a leading place in the world in architectural development, and the Louvre Pyramid came to symbolize much more than a creative accomplishment. It also stands for the victory of vision over prejudice, art over ideology, and genius over nationality.
In the following decade, many landmark structures were erected around the world as optimistic declarations of progression into a new millennium. In East Asia, the construction of new international airports, a country's face to the world, was deemed by architects--and often by the public--as a golden chance to make a strong visual statement. The Kansai International Airport, opened in 1994 in Osaka, Japan, was designed by Renzo Piano of Italy; the world's first airport built in the sea on reclaimed land, it was the largest public-works project of the twentieth century. Hong Kong's Chek Lap Kok International Airport was the work of Sir Norman Foster of the United Kingdom, whose ingenious plans and elegant high-tech modern form have been drawing worldwide attention to this transportation hub since its completion in 1998. Both cases are successful examples of design proposals that emerged from international competitions.
Taiwan missed an opportunity for similar global publicity when the Chiang Kai-shek International Airport in Taoyuan, south of Taipei, was preparing to build its second terminal. That project, completed in 2000, was another instance in the history of Taiwan's public construction where aesthetics lost out to raw practicality. But now public expectations are focusing on a new target: the Taipei City Government's plan to reshape the area surrounding the Presidential Building in downtown Taipei. In 2000 the city government's Department of Urban Development (DUD) announced an international competition to select a design for the project. The objective was to come up with a master plan for what is now being called the Capital Plaza, the locus where Taiwan's political, social, historical, cultural, and economic forces converge.
The Capital Plaza was built in 1919 together with the building that dominates the square. That red-brick structure served as the governor-general's office during the Japanese colonial reign, which ended in 1945, and then as the Presidential Building from 1949 when the Chiang Kai-shek government moved to Taiwan. In the Chiang era the building was often referred to in English as the "Presidential Palace" and part of the structure housed the defense ministry. When opposition groups began pushing for faster democratization in the 1980s, the plaza became a symbol of authoritarian rule and the target of heightened protests against political constraints. Talk of "liberating" the plaza began in 1994 when now-president Chen Shui-bian was mayor of Taipei and Lee Teng-hui the president. For decades, the space in front of the Presidential Building has been used mainly for traffic and for parking of government vehicles, and once a year it becomes the venue for the Double Tenth National Day ceremonies and military parade. This heavily guarded, at one time forbidden, area is by no means welcoming to pedestrians. Chen's idea for liberating the space was to turn it into a "people's plaza," and he started by throwing a dance party there for the general public in October 1995.
That move was rife with symbolism. The long-time ruling party, the Kuomintang (KMT), then held the presidency while the opposition Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) was in power in City Hall. Questioning the legitimate function of the plaza was highly sensitive, but effective in illuminating the implications of political liberalization. The political balance was soon reversed when the KMT's Ma Ying-jeou won the 1998 mayoral election over Chen, who in turn moved into the presidency in 2000. The partisan rivalry between Chen and Ma since then has frequently piqued media attention, but the plaza redevelopment project has remained undisturbed. Both the DUD and the central government recognize that the project has enjoyed broad public support ever since it was first broached during Chen's term as mayor.
"It's generally agreed that the Capital Plaza, a place of such great significance, hasn't been properly utilized," says Lin Chung-chieh, head of the DUD's Division of Urban Design. "Dealing with the issue was deferred for decades because in the martial law era it seemed like a political taboo. Now as they consider Taipei's future development, the central government and the city administration agree on the necessity of renewing this area. That consensus has made it possible for us to go forward with this gigantic plan."
The design competition went through two phases. The first was open to all individuals or organizations with professional credentials in architecture, landscape design, or urban development. Then a panel of seven Taiwan university professors in those fields selected fifteen of the proposals to take part in the second phase, along with the designs of ten foreign architects especially invited to participate. Although the DUD had handed out 296 application forms, only fifty-five eligible entrants actually responded. Some 60 percent of them were from foreign countries, including seven of the ten invited architects. On July 19, 2001, the phase-two panel of six judges--half of them from overseas--chose three winners to share first place: Andres Perea from Spain, and two Japanese, Itsuko Hasegawa and Takeshi Hagiwara. The judges also conferred a citation of "high distinction" on the proposals of another three architects--two of the invited foreigners (Meinhard van Gerkan from Germany and Peter Wilson from Australia) and one Taiwanese architect (Lee Chu-yuan or C.Y. Lee as he is usually known). And an additional nine proposals were honored with citations of "distinction."
All fifteen of these winning selections were then exhibited in Taipei and four other cities--Hsinchu, Chiayi, Tainan, and Ilan--to provide an opportunity to sample public opinion. Fifteen selections mean fifteen different solutions for revamping the Capital Plaza, but they are not necessarily all equally feasible. Quite a few of the contestants presented daring, unrefined ideas that might stagger the imagination of many local people. "The best thing about having this kind of competition is to propose a vision to the citizens," says Chang Chi-yi, assistant professor at National Chiao Tung University's graduate program in architecture. "Every city needs a vision to guide its urban development, even though it may take five or ten years or even longer to actualize the vision." Washington D.C. is one of many cities that was developed according to a master plan over a long period of time. The winning proposals in this competition opened people's eyes by suggesting futuristic views of urban space.
"These architects see cities in the new millennium in terms of layers and orders of space--quite different from twentieth -century perceptions," Chang notes. "They try to minimize borders, zones, and spatial axes so as to maintain flexibility for future use, and they see the city as more changeable and versatile than in the past. Architecture no longer is the only means to divide areas. Space can be defined by plants, differences in lighting, and even by human activities." Multiple use of space might be accomplished through glassed-in garden terraces in compound layers as shown in Andres Perea's proposal, or a green open field defined by vegetation and different types of activities as Itsuko Hasegawa suggests. Or as in Takeshi Hagiwara's model, it could be double-tiered with the upper level resembling a carpet woven in the pattern of a flowing landscape.
Reaction to these plans was quite different in the five cities where they were displayed, but according to the DUD's tabulation of the opinion surveys, overall 23.1 percent of the viewers preferred Hagiwara's proposal, 16.2 percent Perea's, and 11.4 percent Hasegawa's. These results will serve as an important reference for the DUD as it proceeds to the next step--asking the three winners to take three months to further develop their designs and then picking one scheme from among those detailed plans for implementation. The survey "provided a means for the people to really take part in the decision-making process," Lin says. "Thorough communication with the citizenry is vital for public projects of such a large scale."
Throughout the selection process, the judges stressed two principles that are seen as defining the nature of the project. One is the need for the design to reflect the plaza's role as the center of the highest political power, and the other is a desire for a visionary, avant-garde creation suitable for the new century and millennium. "It's a must for a modern city to have a public space that articulates and symbolizes its urban spirit," says one of the phase-two judges, Pai Chin, senior partner of the firm of Haigo Shen & Partners, Architects & Engineers. "In the West, such public space usually takes the form of an open plaza where people gather to express themselves. But the traditional Eastern idea has tended toward an enclosed space with walls and gates. Since democratization is one of the unique traits of modernization, it's only natural to want to create an open space for the public in Taipei. The plaza could become the key to altering the whole face and spirit of the city." A city has a much longer life than those who reside there, and the urban texture will change as people in different eras require different functions. Pai therefore emphasizes the importance of a versatile and malleable master plan for the project.
"A master plan is required not only for the Capital Plaza, but for the surrounding district as a whole," says Monica C. Kuo, chairperson of Chinese Culture University's Department of Landscape Architecture and one of the judges for the primary stage of the design competition. "With so many major government buildings located near the plaza, the district is already an embryo for a model civic center. The DUD should further integrate the structures in this cluster to evoke the significance and energy of this area." Kuo notes that the competition guidelines did not stipulate a definite timetable for the project, which she says may explain why some of the proposals seem exceedingly romantic. "None of the winning selections satisfy all the criteria currently required of the plaza," she remarked. "In fact if they did, they would probably look too predictable."
Cai Da-ren, a civil-design specialist and adjunct assistant professor in Tamkang University's Department of Architecture, says he was disappointed that the winning proposals were not even bolder. And he regrets that they neglected the question of how the city's infrastructure could be improved. "The unseen part of a city is actually more important than what's seen," he observes. "This aspect is especially crucial in Taiwan where typhoons bring heavy rain every year. Perhaps the foreign architects didn't stay long enough to understand the city from all different perspectives." Before the competition began, each of the seven guest architects came in turn to stay for one week and give an open presentation of their previous work.
The approaches taken by the local architects participating in the competition placed greater emphasis on the political and cultural contexts. C.Y. Lee dismisses attempts to create a park-like space as "superficial," for example. He prefers to stress the "intrinsic nature" of the area as the home for important government buildings and to focus on the relationship among them in terms of north-south and east-west axes. Lee proposed to transform the Presidential Building into a Taiwan equivalent of the US Library of Congress and to erect a new building behind it to house the Legislative Yuan. The Office of the President would move to another new edifice to be constructed in the nearby February 28 Memorial Park, next to the park's existing Taiwan Museum. "It's not appropriate to use the current Presidential Building as the Office of the President because it's a relic from the Japanese reign," he says. "The building's been listed as a historical landmark, so let it retreat to history. Only radical changes can create a new political atmosphere for the capital area."
Architect Bin Shyu acknowledges the difficulty involved in meeting the disparate objectives set for the new design. "Is the purpose of removing the center-of-power image from this highly symbolic plaza really achievable?" he asks rhetorically. Shyu maintains that Washington DC provides an excellent example of a capital that combines the sense of being a political center with an openness and beauty that draws large numbers of tourists. He also cites another challenge--how to meet the people's expectations for a more accessible atmosphere in the area without compromising presidential security.
If the current schedule is adhered to, the three co-winners should submit their detailed schemes early this year, and the final selection should be announced in March. Then the DUD can proceed to the budgeting stage and start coordinating with other relevant public agencies. Many observers, however, still harbor doubts about the plan's prospects. "Merely concluding the design competition is not the same as reaching the goals that've been set," Pai Chin points out. "I'd suggest that the DUD refrain from having the three co-winners further develop their proposals, since the outcome of no absolute winner provides an opportunity for rethinking. It's more important first to organize a supra-ministry task force that's free of political interference and led by a strong, capable head. The three co-winners could serve as consultants to cooperate with local professionals on the team. This project involves issues far more complicated than cases with specific functions such as an airport. Taiwan's political and cultural complexities are way beyond foreigners' comprehension."
Taking a different tack, Monica Kuo suggests that the DUD arrange for the three winners to remain in Taiwan for three months while they refine their plans. "The longer they stay, the likelier they are to produce a satisfactory result. It'll be expensive, but it's far better to spend the money now than later on remedies." Some critics fault the DUD for seeming to value foreign architects over locals, while others welcome the input of fresh views from abroad--particularly for public construction. "Taiwan has been reluctant to usher in foreign competition in this field," says Chang Chi-yi of National Chiao Tung University. "That attitude could eventually dull the local creative spirit. Let the door open, so we can have a full interchange of ideas."
It may be too early to predict whether a people's plaza will be realized, but the DUD has been widely commended for its motivation and determination. "The design competition has proved to have an educational value," says Professor Chang. "Creative public space will get a chance to enter our lives only if the public has become accustomed to dreaming about the impossible." But the opportunity should be seized with care. "There's a fine line between good and bad," Professor Cai cautions. "It would take a huge effort to undo wrong designs." A transparent review process may help citizens keep an eye on developments. "We'll continue to keep the public informed," the DUD's Lin promises. "We appreciate open discussion. Democracy means infinite possibilities. That's what the plaza stands for."