Traces, Zen spirit, leaping lines, soaring dragon

Zhongshan Hall of Taipei is nearing her eightieth year— graceful in bearing, a masterpiece of architecture, once a vanguard of Modernist thought in the 1930s. She has stood not only as a monument, but as a participant and witness to history itself— the surrender ceremony of WWII’s Taiwan theater, the signing of the Sino-American Mutual Defense Treaty, the inaugural rites of the President and Vice President of the Republic of China—all were held within her walls.

She has been a glamorous banquet hall of state, where leaders of East and West once mingled, amidst shimmering gowns and clinking glasses, their laughter echoing, their friendships forged.

She has also been a sanctum for the arts— an exalted stage for paintings, dance, music, and song, each performance a radiant offering to the spirit of culture and communion.

Majestic yet welcoming, classical yet modern— her charm is not easily spoken, but deeply felt, like the hush before a curtain rises.

A Faceted Monument of Time — Endless Stories Etched in Silence

From its origin as the Governor-General’s Hall under Japanese rule— a space where officials and citizens once converged— to its rebirth as the Legislative Yuan, the National Assembly, and a sanctuary for refined cultural performances under the Republic, and now, as a National Historic Monument where music floats with the scent of coffee, Zhongshan Hall has graced the stage of every era and every sphere of life.

It is not merely a structure, but a living witness, a silent participant in history, harboring treasures untold, awaiting those who are ready to listen, to uncover, to remember.

Seat of Qing Dynasty Governance — Where Mandarins Once Held Court

On June 7, Japanese forces entered the walled city of Taipei. There, within the same hall, they held the solemn “Inauguration of Rule,” proclaiming the beginning of colonial administration. The Yamen was transformed into the Office of the Governor-General.

For more than two decades, this space bore the weight of imperial command and colonial decrees. Only in 1919, with the completion of a new Governor-General's Office, did the tides of power finally shift elsewhere.

Seat of Power under Japanese Rule — Former Governor-General’s Office

In 1895, under the Treaty of Shimonoseki, Taiwan was ceded to Japan. In the face of this fate, the people of Taiwan rose in resistance, establishing the short-lived “Republic of Formosa” in an act of self-salvation. The Provisional Presidential Office was housed in the Buzhengsi Yamen, a hall once filled with the rhythms of Qing governance.

A New Birth of Modernism — The Taipei Assembly Hall

In 1932, to commemorate the enthronement of Emperor Hirohito, the Japanese government tore down the Qing-era Buzhengsi Yamen, and upon its ground, raised a monumental new form— the Taipei Public Assembly Hall. It was, at the time, one of Taiwan’s largest constructions, ranked among the Four Great Assembly Halls of the Japanese Empire, alongside Tokyo, Osaka, and Nagoya.

The entire project spanned four years, with over 94,500 workers weaving its body into being. A steel-reinforced concrete structure of four stories rose, resilient to earthquake, fire, and storm— and for over seventy years, it has stood unmoved.

Designed by Kaoru Ide, a Tokyo Imperial University architect and master builder of the Governor-General’s Office, he served both as chief engineer of public works and as head of the Taiwan Architectural Association. With vision both learned and experimental, his style was bold, refined, and spiritually attuned. Having lived long in Taiwan, he knew its winds, colors, materials, and light. Thus, his design embraced four open corridors, an omnidirectional flow, and geometry that sang the language of modernism.

Rather than echo the Greco-Roman idiom popular since the Meiji Restoration, he turned instead to a sacred polyphony of civilizations: Islamic arches and pointed windows, Chinese lattice vents in the shape of “fangsheng,” glazed tiles, weight-bearing dougong brackets, Southern Min-style terra-cotta tiles, and a Grecian pediment. A hybrid of spirit and soil.

Its surface was born of Beitou clay kilns, and as militarism rose and war loomed near, the red brick norm was set aside. In its place: a quiet green, a color later known as the shade of defense— an architecture of restraint amid approaching storm.

A Grand Civic Forum — Taipei Zhongshan Hall

The original structure was composed of two grand halves— the Assembly Hall to the east and the Banquet Hall to the west. The Assembly Hall soared across two stories, with 1,301 seats below and 755 above—2,056 in all. The Banquet Hall spanned three levels, housing a grand ballroom, a general gathering space, a lounge, a barber room, guest chambers, and a kitchen. A spacious plaza unfolded before the building, an open-air stage for civic life, and from the second-floor balcony, leaders could speak directly to the gathered public below.

By 1936, the Taipei Public Assembly Hall stood complete— though government-led in its early programming, citizens gradually embraced its new role. In truth, a year before its official opening, it had already debuted as the Main Pavilion of the “40th Year of Colonial Rule Taiwan Exposition,” drawing crowds and curiosity alike.

In the years to come, it would become the favored venue for grand public events, artistic performances, and civic life, set in the bustling heart of Taipei, its modern elegance undeniable.

Then came 1945—Japan's surrender, and Taiwan's return to the Republic of China. It was in the second-floor Grand Ballroom that the “Taiwan Province Surrender Ceremony of the China War Theater” was held— a moment etched in national memory. Thereafter, the building was renamed Zhongshan Hall, under the Taipei City Government’s care.

The Grand Ballroom became the “Hall of Restoration,” the general gathering space, “Fortress Hall,” and the great Assembly Hall, “Chungcheng Hall.” Though its name changed from Gonghui Tang to Zhongshan Hall, its soul remained—the ever-adaptive stage upon which politics, celebration, art, leisure, and daily life continued to unfold in rhythm with the heartbeat of a new era.

State Banquets & Cultural Splendor — Where Diplomacy Meets the Arts

She became a sacred ground of political life. After the Nationalist Government relocated to Taiwan in 1949, she served as the venue for the National Assembly, the Legislative Yuan chamber, and the Taipei City Council, for over a decade of turbulent rebuilding.

Here, momentous ceremonies unfolded— the signing of the Sino-American Mutual Defense Treaty, and the inaugurations of the Republic’s second to fifth Presidents and Vice Presidents.

She welcomed foreign dignitaries as an honored hostess: former U.S. President Nixon, Korea’s Syngman Rhee, Vietnam’s Ngô Đình Diệm, Philippines’ García, and Iran’s Shah Pahlavi— all received with state banquets under her luminous halls.

She holds within her walls the echoes of many firsts: Taiwan’s first astronomical observatory, the first Taiwan Provincial Art Exhibition, Taipei’s first mass wedding, Tsai Jui-yueh’s first dance performance, Yang San-lang’s debut music recital, the first Patriot Lottery drawing, the first comic art exhibition, the inaugural May Art Society showcase of modernism, Li Mei-shu’s first oil painting solo show, and the first Taiwan performances by the Boston Symphony and the Vienna Choir Boys.

Even Nobel Laureate Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn’s first Taiwan lecture resounded here, as did the debut of Yang Hsien’s folk music concert, which later ignited a movement in the 1970s. Here, the Chinese Youth Anti-Communist Salvation Corps was founded.

To ordinary citizens, Zhongshan Hall revealed a gentler face. It housed one of Taipei’s earliest Western-style restaurants, where waiters in pristine white uniforms served borscht and oxtail soup with elegant grace. She hosted Beijing opera, drama, cinema— entertainments of the people, for the people.

Her plaza and little park became spaces of courtship and contemplation. The elegant Hall of Restoration— a beloved place for wedding banquets, where life and love quietly took root beneath stained glass and chandeliers.

A National Heritage, Radiating Life — The Living Spirit of a Historic Monument

In 1992, at the age of fifty-six, Zhongshan Hall was designated a National Level II Historic Monument by the Ministry of the Interior. By 1999, she was transferred from the Taipei City Civil Affairs Bureau to the newly established Department of Cultural Affairs, and underwent a sweeping restoration.

Once restored, her spaces—Chungcheng Hall, Guangfu Hall, and the central plaza— were opened to the public for use, and the Taipei Chinese Orchestra took up residence within her walls. Zhongshan Hall was officially reborn as a cultural sanctuary for the city.

The Taipei Film Festival, Taipei Arts Festival, Publishing Festival, Culture Month, Traditional Arts Season, Open-Air Concerts… From year’s dawn to year’s end, she offered the city a feast for the spirit, a place where the soul could breathe and be nourished.

At the same time, this hall, etched with the marks of history, began to open its doors not only for art, but for remembrance. Guided tours were introduced— at first led by longtime staff who had lived through her many seasons, and later by trained volunteers, each telling her story with care, drawing visitors gently into the living memory of her past.

Taipei Chinese Orchestra

Renowned for its rich artistic achievement and versatile performance techniques, the Taipei Chinese Orchestra was founded in 1979. In December 2001, it took residence in the historic Zhongshan Hall— a site celebrated not only for its heritage, but for its exceptional acoustics. From that moment, the orchestra gained a dedicated concert hall and rehearsal space, a spiritual home for sound and silence to dance.

Each season, the orchestra welcomes nearly 100,000 music lovers, offering over fifty concerts annually, from formal programs to educational performances, including the beloved Taipei Traditional Arts Festival held every spring.

More than a musical institution, the orchestra is Taipei’s cultural envoy— its sounds carried across oceans and continents. From Japan to America, from Europe to Southeast Asia, its presence has graced concert halls in Canada, the Philippines, Malaysia, Australia, Singapore, the United Kingdom, Germany, France, Austria, Switzerland, the Netherlands, Belgium, Czech Republic, Mainland China, Hong Kong, and Macao.

Since 2007, under the visionary leadership of composer Yiu-Kwong Chung and internationally acclaimed conductor Shao-En, the orchestra entered a radiant new era of artistic growth. Its bold and innovative programming has drawn critical acclaim.

In 2008 and 2009, the orchestra shared its stage with some of the world’s most distinguished artists: saxophonist Claude Delangle, flutist Sharon Bezaly, composer-installation artist James Giroudon, Quatuor Diastema of France, percussionist Evelyn Glennie, trombonist Christian Lindberg, sarod master Amjad Ali Khan, and the transcendent Tuvan throat-singers, Huun-Huur-Tu.

Each collaboration—a prayer of sound across cultures, a communion of breath, rhythm, and resonance.

Artistic Director & Ensemble Leader — Yiu-Kwong Chung

Yiu-Kwong Chung, born in 1956 in Hong Kong,

is a composer whose spirit resonates with rhythm,

and whose journey has harmonized cultures across continents.

Self-taught in composition from a young age,

he pursued formal studies in percussion at

the Philadelphia College of the Performing Arts

and the City University of New York,

learning under masters such as Nicholas D’Amico, Morris Lang,

and studying marimba with Leigh Howard Stevens and Keiko Abe.

From 1980 to 1986, he served as Associate Principal Percussionist

with the Hong Kong Philharmonic Orchestra.

His composition “War Chariots” won First Prize at

the Percussive Arts Society Composition Competition in 1986,

opening the gates to doctoral study in percussion and composition.

He received his Doctorate in Percussion Performance in 1991,

with his dissertation on Henze’s Five Scenes from the Snow Country

earning the Barry Brook Prize for Best Dissertation.

In 1995, he earned a second doctorate in composition.

Upon returning to Taiwan, he served as Director of Planning

at the National Theater and Concert Hall,

and as Professor at the National Taiwan University of Arts,

shaping the next generation of musical voices.

His compositions—bridging East and West, ancient and modern—

have been performed around the globe:

a Flute Concerto and Whirling Dance for Sharon Bezaly;

Hakka Seasons premiered by Cho-Liang Lin and the Sejong Soloists;

a solo guitar work debuted in Athens by Eva Fampas;

City Eternal, awarded First Prize by the Hong Kong Chinese Orchestra;

and Festival, a wind band work celebrated at the WASBE festivals

and published by Musikverlag Johann Kliment in Vienna.

His works Dance of the Earth and Grasshopper Plays with the Rooster

performed by Yo-Yo Ma and featured on the SONY album SuperCharm Yo-Yo Ma

embody his vivid, folk-infused imagination.

Forthcoming works include a trombone concerto for Christian Lindberg,

a saxophone concerto for Claude Delangle,

and a percussion concerto for the 2009 Taipei Deaflympics,

to be premiered by Evelyn Glennie.

Each note he writes becomes a prayer—

for sound, for memory, for transcendence.

1. Traces

This movement evokes the historical "traces" of Zhongshan Hall—

subtle imprints left by time, memory, and spirit.

As the sound of ancient bronze bells begins to resonate,

listeners are gently drawn into a soundscape that feels like

a corridor through time: distant, shadowed, and profound.

The music opens in a contemplative tone, honoring the solemn grace of the past,

then gradually lifts into joy and celebration,

as if the stones and beams of Zhongshan Hall

were whispering tales of Taiwan’s growth and transformation.

In every phrase, the hall becomes more than architecture—

it becomes memory in motion, history made audible.

2. Zen Stillness

This movement embodies a moment of inner stillness—

that sacred instant when a human soul becomes one with the vast, breathing rhythm of nature.

Crafted with pointillistic orchestration,

the piece paints space with silence as much as with sound.

The shimmering harmonics of the strings create an atmosphere

both calm and expansive, like a breath suspended between earth and sky.

The melody unfolds slowly, tenderly,

as if listening to the quiet pulse of the universe within.

It is not a sound that commands,

but one that invites—

a gentle call to return to the center,

where silence sings.

3. Leaping Lines

This movement celebrates the architectural elegance of Zhongshan Hall—

a tribute in sound to the rhythmic vitality found in its design.

Lively melodies and dynamic rhythmic shifts

echo the spirited geometry of its walls,

where lines leap like dancers across stone and light.

The music captures not only form,

but the energy behind form—

the joy, the intention,

the artistic breath that moves through every architectural gesture.

It is a celebration of structure in motion,

of stillness that dares to leap.

4. Soaring Dragon

This movement captures the vibrant evolution of modern Chinese music in Taiwan.

With the Taipei Chinese Orchestra now residing in Zhongshan Hall,

a new force has taken flight—

a great dragon of our era,

sweeping across the skies of Taipei with majestic grace.

Its soaring presence resonates with the city’s skyline,

interweaving tradition with innovation,

discipline with imagination,

and the deep roots of culture with the ever-shifting pulse of urban life.

Through its music,

Taipei does not merely listen—it breathes,

becoming a living tapestry of sound, spirit, and story.