Taipei's U-Mkt: A traditional Market Reborn

On a clear, bright morning in Tai­pei, a woman in her sixties takes a breather on a stool outside the U-mkt market after finishing up a task. Still wearing gloves and rubber boots, she’ll soon deliver her last load of ice to a nearby seafood vendor. An elderly woman carrying a shopping basket stops by to chat. An older man across the way greets her, then borrows her hose. A few young people getting ready to clock in to work wish her a quick good morning. Known as “Granny Ai­jiao,” the woman is an ice vendor and an iconic U-mkt figure.

Established by a Japanese man named To­ki­chi Toda, Granny Ai­jiao’s ice stall is the market’s only holdover from its earliest days. Granny Ai­jiao’s father-in-law took over the business after Japan surrendered control over Taiwan. Granny herself has been running the business for decades now, providing neighborhood and market vendors with the ice they need to keep their food fresh.

At the market’s peak more than 30 years ago, her ice shop might do NT$3,000 in business per day. Her hands were full just with deliveries to local elementary schools. But when the market declined, the ice business declined with it. Meanwhile, young people lost interest in taking on such laborious work. “Nowadays, I treat it like exercise. I do it to stay in shape, not to make money.” Granny Ai­jiao makes, cuts and delivers ice daily, surrounded by humming compressors and herself a beautiful part of the market’s scenery.

U-mkt (also known as Xinfu Market), which opened in 1935, was built in a distinctive horse-hoof shape unusual for a Taiwanese market.

An old market repurposed

Opened in 1935 as the Shin­to­mi­cho Food and Sundries Market, the present-day U-mkt was originally a public market built by Tai­pei’s municipal government. When the Nationalist government retreated to Taiwan at the end of the Chinese Civil War, the military families that came with the government and army immediately increased the local population and this encouraged merchants to settle nearby. Residential buildings packed the area, causing the number of stalls in the market to grow far beyond the 35 for which it had been designed and to spill into the surrounding streets. The bustling neighborhood was central to the lives of Wan­hua residents in the 1950s, but began to decline in the 1970s following the opening of Huan­nan Market and the legalization of the vendor stalls outside that market. The waning of traditional markets in the 1990s only made matters worse, with the hubbub on nearby San­shui Street highlighting ­Xinfu Market’s own lifelessness. Rather than a market, it became a place for merchants to warehouse their goods and park their motorcycles. And so it remained, standing quietly through the passing years, until it was named a municipal historic building in 2006.

The Tai­pei City Market Administration Office subsequently renovated it, before awarding the JUT Foundation the rights to operate it for nine years. Shortly after taking responsibility for running and revitalizing the old market, the foundation’s team discovered that there was very little information recorded about it. In an effort to learn more, the team interviewed local residents and merchants, and spoke to culture workers, gradually assembling a picture of the market in its heyday.

Michael Lin, the architect responsible for renovating the market, used pine, transparent panels and glass to lighten and open up the high-ceilinged space.

Smart design

U-mkt’s avant-garde hoof shape is a rarity among Taiwan’s public markets. Built primarily from reinforced brickwork, its exterior walls have a pebbledash surface, which gives it a clean, utilitarian look. The building has a high ceiling and many horizontal pivot windows, and the hoof shape allows shoppers to flow effortlessly through the stalls, while its unique central light well provides natural lighting and aids ventilation. Sharp-eyed shoppers approaching the market’s north side from Shan­shui Street will note the decorative swirls above the gable, as well as Tai­pei’s original city logo. Inside, concrete roof beams radiating out from a central point and a wooden sliding door scorched black by fire create an interesting spatial dialogue with the bright, new dining area.

As what was then the first modern market to comply with new hygiene policies, U-mkt had a specially designed drainage system: the roof slopes towards the central light well, directing rainfall into a U-shaped gutter along the top edge of the well. From there, downspouts lead the water to a drainage system under the floor. This system for routing the rainwater “inward” happens to echo the Taiwanese view that “gathering water together generates wealth.”

“We’re facing a big issue: our nostalgia is growing continuously, but memories of the things we are nostalgic for are fading. Caught between nostalgia and forgetting, how do we feasibly integrate this historical space into the contemporary social environment?” So wonders Michael Lin, the architect responsible for repurposing the market’s interior. To minimize any possibility of damage to the historic building, he used only materials and techniques that could be reversed, creating removable lightweight wooden structures and keeping new flooring and room dividers separated from the surfaces of the original floor and walls. While the original structure has a hulking feel to it, Lin’s addition of warm pine, translucent panels, and glass to the space have given the building a visual elegance. He has also created clear divisions between work, activity, dining, and viewing spaces. 

In the old days, the market had more butchers than any other type of vendor. Because they needed to hang meat, their stalls generally consisted of a wooden structure atop a concrete base. Fortunately, two of these Japanese-era stalls have been preserved. Now decorated with creative and cultural objects, the stalls help visitors imagine the butchers of yore hawking their products from within.

After you’ve completed your tour of the building, remember to check out the carefully preserved Japanese-style wooden office and dormitory that still stand to the northeast of the market. Built for the market’s caretakers, they too offer a record of the market’s history.

Two of the old market’s Japanese-era stalls have been preserved, helping visitors picture the butchers of yore hawking their products from within.

Human relationships

This traditional market has become a living museum. Once hidden amid a jumble of old buildings, Shin­to­mi­cho Market has been reborn. By drawing on the knowledge and goodwill of the surrounding neighborhood, the market has incorporated elements of food and beverage, urban, architectural and environmental education. Deconstructed and then reconstructed, the space is now sectioned by function and is gradually responding to the needs of the local community.

“We anticipate that she will become a new kind of market, one containing all kinds of information exchanges and human relationships,” says Aaron Lee, CEO of the JUT Foundation. “We hope that these kinds of connections won’t be bounded by the market’s edges, but will instead spread throughout Wan­hua, connecting the value created to the original market’s character.”

Just as yesterday’s rich soil becomes tomorrow’s energy, the future U-mkt will be both a forum for studying history and sampling life, and a venue for learning and working together. Users and uses new and old will coexist in the public participation platform of the reborn market, connecting them to still more possibilities.

The renovation of the more than 80-year-old U-mkt has created a multifaceted base for innovation.

The renovation of the more than 80-year-old U-mkt has created a multifaceted base for innovation.

Grannie Aijiao took over her grandmother’s ice-making business at the age of 25. She’s now been running the business for decades, providing the ice that nearby market vendors use to keep their food fresh.

This traditional market has become a living museum.

Reopened after three years of renovation work by the JUT Foundation for Arts and Architecture, the market has revived the area’s long quiescent spirit and is introducing it to a new generation of visitors.