Busloads of domestic and foreign tourists arrive. Following their guides , the tourists have a chance to get a better look at this famous site. They are told about the history of the temple, the sculptures on the columns, the structure of the temple and its current situation. They are also led to see craftsmen working hard in a back room, creating and repairing the temple's famous carvings. Then, they happily leave the place.

Individuals also come in. With lighted incense sticks in their hands and their offerings on a table in the front hall , they pray silently to the gods. Scenes like these are repeated many times from sunup to sundown, day after day, year after year. But the temple still stands there and the workers still sweat away in the same back room to restore the temple . This is the famous Tsushih Temple in the little town of Sanhsia, Taipei County.

These were the scenes I saw at the temple on the sunny morning of October 3, 1997. Liu King-pong, our editor-in-chief, Doug Shaw, our English editor and layout specialist, Tsai Ling-hsia, our friend and driver, Liu Ping-chien, the photographer, and myself went to interview Cheng Yu-tsai, secretary of the temple's board of directors. It is a typical, traditional temple such as one can see in every part of Taiwan: raised platforms, two dragons facing each other on the roof of the main hall with a shining pearl between them, guardian spirits at the doors, incense burners , statues, sculptures, etc. But what sets this temple apart from the others are the various artistic styles with which it is thoroughly decorated.

Historical Background

At the end of the Sung Dynasty (960-1279 a.d.), a man named Chen Chao-ying valiantly strove, though in vain, to rally loyalists to fight against the invading Mongols. His third generation descendants helped to finally overthrow the Mongol Yuan Dynasty, which was followed by the Ming Dynasty in 1368. In recognizing the family's deeds, the first Ming emperor issued a royal decree to deify Chen Chao-ying as "Tsushih," or "Great Ancestor." A temple dedicated to him was built in Anhsi, a town in Fujian Province in mainland China. During a wave of immigration from Fujian to Taiwan in the eighteenth century, one group brought the statuette of Chen and settled down in Sanhsia. A temple was built in his name in 1769, and the statuette was placed there for worship .

After the temple was destroyed by an earthquake in 1833, it was rebuilt. At the end of the Sino-Japanese War in 1895, the Ching Dynasty conceded Taiwan to Japan . When the residents in Sanhsia learned about this, they revolted against the new government. The uprisings failed and Japanese forces retaliated by burning down the temple. In 1899, the temple was again rebuilt.

In 1947, two years after Taiwan was retroceded to Chinese rule and after almost half a century of weathering, the temple was again in urgent need of restoration.

Tsushih's Request

To some, it may only be a temple where they can ask the gods for help, but to many others it is more than that. The building tells the history of the town, the elegant artistry of its craftsmen, and the passion and commitment of a devoted artist who gave the last half of his life to the revival of the little town and the restoration of the Tsushih Temple.

Li Mei-shu (1902-1983) was born in Sanhsia during the Japanese occupation of Taiwan, and he studied Western painting at the Tokyo Art School. When the well-known artist was asked by village elders to direct the restoration of the temple, he felt uneasy about it at first because the temple was badly decayed. Furthermore, he was not sure whether an artist like him, who had received training in Western art, could shoulder the heavy responsibility of renovating a Chinese temple. However, he knew that it would stay on his conscience if he turned down the elders' request.

On that special day when he went to hear the temple director's report on the condition of the temple, a piece of paper suddenly flew down to the ground from the temple wall. Li picked it up and saw that it was a divination poem, which informed the owner of his or her future in business, family, love, etc. It is said that the poem clearly predicted Li's arrival by indicating that a decent gentleman with the name of a flower would come to help rebuild the temple. Li's given name, Mei-shu, literally means "plum tree."

Li was stunned, because he had never believed in things like this. He suddenly felt that this divination poem was really a request from Tsushih, the god of the temple, to renovate the structure. Full of confidence, he worked for thirty-six years to restore the beauty of the temple.

A Dictatorial Artist

What kind of person was Li? He was a leader, a careful artist, a person of many skills, a rigid father, a casual intellect, an elder who was concerned with local affairs, and a dictator with a strong sense of mission towards the temple. We can deeply sense his stubborn, stiff, proud and reserved character especially in photos taken during his last years of life.

After Taiwan was returned to Chinese rule, the forestry, mining, and other heavy industries in Sanhsia were on the wane. Li wanted to revive local prosperity. Coincidentally, the temple needed to be rebuilt. He felt that if the temple was only repaired, it would still be just a temple and would do nothing for the local economy. However, he realized that if the temple was uniquely outstanding, it could bring in tourists and their money too. In addition, Li believed the temple could purify people's hearts through its artistic decorations. These thoughts reinforced Li's determination to rebuild the temple.

A Sanctuary of Sculpture

According to Secretary Cheng, Li wanted to expand the original site and restore the overall structure. He expected that the finished temple would take up 1,600 square meters [17,280 sq. ft.] with three worship halls, a drum tower, a bell tower, a library, a repository, and an archive.

Li was an expert in Western art, but he was also quite well versed in Chinese traditions. He wanted to make the temple a sanctuary of Asian sculpture by preserving traditional folk sculpturing skills in the temple, so that future generations could also have a chance to see them.

Chang Fu-sung, a skilled artist at the temple, recalled that Li wanted to employ sculpturing instead of painting because he knew that after a long time paintings would fade. When later generations redo paintings, they do not look the same as the originals. Another defect would be that no matter how good the paintings looked, they would not be very clear when they were placed on the ceilings.

Professor Wang Chin-tai of the National College of Art said that the sculptures in the temple display many traditional Chinese skills, and one can find meaningful auspicious symbols and folklore in these sculptures as well. Local economic situations and the availability of materials, as well as folk beliefs, thoughts and traditions, helped to create the Taiwanese style of sculpturing.

The basic structure of the temple is wood at the top and stone at the bottom. Thus, the ceilings are made of wooden boards in octagonal patterns. The walls, columns, steps and floors are all built of stone, not cement, because Li wanted the temple to last forever.

The temple now has 122 stone columns, each carved with stories from Chinese mythology, history, literature and folklore. When the restoration is completed, there will be 156 columns. On one noteworthy pair of columns, fifty birds of different species in various poses were sculptured into each column. Li went through an encyclopedia to find models for the birds, and so there are Taiwanese and foreign species.

Craftsmen had to stop every few minutes from carving a stone column, because it would become too hot from continuous rubbing. It would take a craftsman 1,000 working days to finish one column because the work was done entirely by hand .

On the ceiling, there are carvings of lions and phoenixes. Carved chains hang at the lions' chests, and inside the chains are tiny, movable balls . Under the lions' paws are hollow balls, inside which are small balls that may also be moved independently.

To make the wooden carvings last longer, Li used Chinese cypress and camphor wood, which repel insects. The carvings are also gilded to make them more durable. The ceilings were assembled by dovetailing boards together, layer upon layer, with no nails or screws.

Bronze sculptures are employed at the temple doors and parts of the walls. Images of guardian spirits were cast on bronze plates, which were then attached to the doors. On some of the walls are also large bronze plaques depicting traditional Chinese stories.

Perfection in Art

Li hired many skillful artists, and it was inevitable that these artists had their own styles and opinions with respect to certain matters. Li himself had specialized in Western art, so confrontations often arose. The artists sometimes resented his interference with their work. One day , Li had a dispute with a sculptor over a pair of stone lions. He went home and made models based on a pair of lions at his home. When the artist saw the models, he was deeply impressed with Li's discernment. The resulting lions are now located at the main gate.

Li demanded perfection in art, so in his life he never thought of simply trying something out. Every work was a serious effort. Li Ching-kuang, Li's second son, said, "My dad had a short temper and everything had to be done right away, but he had a lot of patience when it came to art."

This kind of attitude appeared during the reconstruction of the temple. If Li was not satisfied with something, he would demand that it be redone.

Some artists were scolded by Li and left, but later came back. Li would say to them, "Please don't be angry with my bad temper, because I just wanted to make it perfect, so I demanded that you do it this way."

From the beginning of the renovation, Li never accepted one cent from the temple. Instead, he often treated the artists to cookies and snacks. Even after he moved to Taipei, he would often go back to Sanhsia by taxi to direct the artists. He was quite rigid in his work, but he treated people well. He also dedicated himself completely to rebuilding the temple. Many artists still mention Li's name with admiration .

Li died on February 6, 1983, from a pulmonary edema. At that time, only the front and main halls of the temple were finished. He once said: "Churches in foreign nations may take more than a hundred years to build . In Taiwan, thirty years is the longest time ever needed to build a temple."

In order to commemorate Li's lifetime contributions to local art, his descendants established the Li Mei-shu Memorial Hall on Chunghua Road in Sanhsia, only a five-minute walk from the temple. The hall contains many of this great artist's oil paintings, correspondence and awards. It is open only on Saturdays and holidays from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m.

Speed vs. Art

Today, a major dispute between temple directors and art lovers has nearly halted the project. In an effort to speed up the restoration, the directors sent some of the work to mainland China. Art lovers fear that this hasty action will only jeopardize the beauty of the temple, because the work will be done with electric machinery rather than by hand.

The temple is definitely the major attraction of Sanhsia. Without it, the town would not be as lively as it is now. All the tourists come here first to visit this sanctuary of Asian art, and then they go to visit the old part of town.