In a small corner of the Taichung Cultural Assets Park near Cooperation Street, there stands a Japanese-style wooden roof that I see every time I enter or leave the parking lot. It has always piqued my curiosity. I find it quite unique, but it lacks a certain aesthetic appeal. Few visitors to the Cultural Assets Park seem to stop and take notice of it.
Although I am not an architecture expert, I can tell that this Japanese-style wooden roof was constructed for display purposes. Yet, I’ve never quite understood its significance—until recently, when I began to learn more about it.
The roof features a typical Japanese architectural slope and is covered with gray-black tiles, a common element in Japanese buildings. The wooden eaves also follow the minimalist style of Japanese architecture. The entire structure is built of wood, with vertical and horizontal beams and columns, emphasizing structural integrity.
Naturally, a roof like this would have been intended to shelter a living space. Though this is just a portion of a building, if extended in all directions—east, west, north, and south—it could create a much larger space, taking into account ventilation and lighting needs.
The ground beneath this structure remains partially exposed, with no flooring laid and some components not yet fully secured. Judging by its framework, this roof likely would have covered a house, teahouse, pavilion, or some other form of recreational space.
Given the incomplete nature of the structure, it seems likely that this installation is intended to showcase traditional construction methods, offering a glimpse of the typical architectural style of Taiwan’s Japanese colonial period.
Taiwan has experienced both Japanese colonial rule and the authoritarian governance of the Kuomintang. In the pre-democratic era, before the rapid rise of industry and commerce, private high-rise buildings were rare. Many Japanese wooden structures were taken over by Taiwanese residents.
I was born in the 1950s, and I fondly remember visiting a classmate’s house as a child. His grandfather had inherited a Japanese-style wooden house left behind by the Japanese government. We would run wild on the wooden floors, completely ignoring the adults’ scoldings.
That kind of tactile experience—the sensation of running freely on a wooden floor—is something today’s generation may find hard to relate to. The Japanese-style wooden roof in the Taichung Cultural Assets Park may have been built to demonstrate this traditional construction technique, but it likely serves a greater purpose: to show young people today a glimpse of how their great-grandparents lived. Perhaps, in its own way, this installation pays tribute to that past.
