Bolero

"Bolero" is a symphonic dance written by the French composer Maurice Ravel in 1928. It features a wonderful melody as well as a lively tempo, and to this day remains a musical favorite. In 1934, Liao Shui-lai, a chef and ardent music lover, opened up a Western-style restaurant with the same name. It was located in thriving Tataocheng, on the corner of Taipei's Minsheng West Road and Yenping North Road. In order to fully live up to the name "Bolero," Liao even made a special trip to Europe, where he spared no expense to buy a top-of-the line sound system. This added a touch of refinement to Bolero and turned it into a gathering place for the elite. Close by was the famous "Three Waters Pavilion" Chinese restaurant, but it was not as popular as Bolero.

By the end of the era of Japanese occupation, Bolero had become a favored meeting place for the literati. Musicians and artists such as Li Tien-lu, Ku Lung, Chan Tien-ma, Chou Tien-wang and Teng Yu-hsin often gathered there to talk about literature, painting, music. . . .

Since 1934, Bolero has weathered 68 years of business. While Bolero carries on its legacy of fine French cuisine-such as its French duck-as well as its coffee, it has expanded to a second location. When its original proprietor died, he passed on management to his two sons, each of whom inherited one of the Boleros. The "original Bolero" went to the eldest son, while the neighboring Bolero went to the second son. Though first-time visitors may confuse the two locales, regulars are crystal-clear about the differences between the two.

Liao Tsung-chi, a 35-year veteran of Bolero who has gone from busboy to general manager, told us that Liao Shui-lai, who created the establishment from the ground up, was a shrewd businessman. Aside from lavishly outfitting his restaurant and creating a place for regulars to "recycle" their way through, he knew how to attract a crowd by positioning his high-end sound system at the front door so that passers-by could catch strains of its beautiful music and admire it. As a result, the place would get so crowded that people had to wait in line for seats.

According to Liao Tsung-chi, Tataocheng was Taipei's trendiest neighborhood at the time and so, aside from the literati and cultured folk who gathered at Bolero, many businessmen also made it their choice as the place to talk business deals. Wang Yung-ching, for one, was a repeat visitor. On top of that, Bolero's romantic ambience made it particularly well suited for matchmaking. Indeed, restaurant lore tells of couple after couple sealing lifelong pledges of love there and, decades later, bringing their own children to do the same.

Stars Cafe

Author Pai Hsien-yung once wrote a piece called "Stars Cafe," which begins like this: "I remember that when I was still in college, in 1960, Stars Cafe was where we would meet. At that time, the cafe's proprietor was a White Russian who was very demanding about his cakes-the cream was fresh, they were never too sweet, but light and delicious. They exuded a whiff of the cakes from the old White Russian Cafe, on Xiafei Road in Shanghai. The second floor was furnished in a spare style that gave off an air of Old Europe. In Taipei in those days, it was considered a splurge to frequent a cafe, which had a bit of a Western, salon-like atmosphere. The poetry journal Genesis was proofed here, and the editors of Literature Quarterly discussed literature over tea here. Literary figures such as Huang Chun-ming, Chen Ying-chen, Shih Shu-ching, San Mao, Lin Hwai-min, Hsiao Sa, Chang Yi, as well as the poets Chi Hsien, Lo Fu, Chang Mo, and Shang Chin, the playwright Yao Yi-wei and others were all regulars."

In trying to figure out why Stars Cafe was so popular with the literary lights of the day, perhaps the main reason is that it was close to all the bookshops on Chungking South Road, in addition to being close to the train station. It was a convenient place for book lovers who wanted a place to sit and chat, or for literary figures from the south meeting up with their friends up here in the north. Beyond these reasons, Stars Cafe was on the relatively out-of-the-way Wuchang Street and located on the second floor, which gave it the feel of a romantic hideaway.

Noted author and Elite Publishing House publisher Yin Ti was also a Stars regular back in those days. According to Yin Ti, Stars Cafe did not become well known for its coffee or its desserts, for its interior design, or for all of the literary figures who came and went. In fact, many writers did not even know about the place. Rather, it became known through the subsequent memoirs of writers who time and again mentioned the cafe and the legendary poet Chou Meng-tie, who had a bookstall outside the cafe. According to Yin Ti, Stars Cafe really became famous in its decline rather than its heyday.

Stars Cafe began operation in 1949, and in 1969 expanded to a second location on Chungshan North Road, under separate management. After the two proprietors died, the Chungshan North Road location was converted into a residence, and the management of the Wuchang Street location passed from the White Russian to Chien Chin-chui. At that time, Taiwan's economy had begun to take off and there was fierce rivalry in every industry. Elegant cafes sprang up all over the city, and the cafe was unable to stave off this new competition. On December 10, 1989, Stars Cafe, which had been open through 40 joy- as well as sorrow-filled years, shut down. The closing was reported in the media and mourned by many in the literary world.

The Writers Cafe

The Writers Cafe, true to its name, was operated by a group of writers. Among them were Lo Fu, Lo Men, Mei Hsin, Lo Hsing, Wu Tung-chuan, Teng Wen-lai, Chiang Mu, and Chao Chi-pin. At the time, these literary friends were running the journal Grasslands, and were hoping to start a bookstore that would be as tasteful as the New Moon Bookstore. They decided to start up a cafe and open up the bookstore when they had made enough money. Many writers liked the idea, and so fundraising, as well as the serious business of managing a cafe, got under way.

When Lo Men reminisces about those days, he remembers how the Writers Cafe started out with a bang, with literary groups gathering there and monthly readings staged by the authors themselves. The cafe attracted a lot of people and was often packed. But the writers were not after all businesspeople, and were carrying through this project on sheer enthusiasm. "But enthusiasm is the kind of thing that's bound to eventually wane," Lo remarks. In addition, rents were high, so even though business was quite good, each month saw the cafe in the red. It finally closed on a gloomy note.

There was a romantic story circulating about the Writers Cafe that has never been confirmed by its main characters. According to this tale, a longhaired girl could be found in the Writers Cafe each day, busily writing away. No one knew what she was writing or what her name was, and whenever any of the other writers would go up and try to make some small talk, she would just ignore them. Finally the poet Lin Lu approached her, and the girl finally spoke. She said she was writing poetry, and politely asked the poet to look over her work. The young girl turned out to be the singer Chao Hsiao-chun. Later, the two fell in love, got married, and even published a volume of poetry together, much to the envy of other writers who came to the cafe to seek their muse.

As to the cafe, not only did it fail to make money after the first few years, but fell into several hundreds of thousands of NT dollars in debt, a large sum in those days. Lo Fu, Mei Hsin, and the others poured in what savings they had, but it was still not enough. In the end, Lo Hsing had to sell a house to pay off the debt. Since then, the Writers Cafe has existed only in the memory of those writers.

Literary Salon

Literary Salon was founded at the same time as the Writers Cafe. It was likewise started through the investment of members of the literary and artistic communities, including the triumvirate comprised of the poet Lu Ti, the painter Lung Si-liang, and Ho Yu-lan (wife of Chen Chien-jen, who is now Taiwan's envoy to the US). The cafe was located on Wuchang Street Section 2, No. 37. The founders had in mind a place where their friends in the arts could meet for conversation, and put on activities where people could "make friends through literature." Lung Si-liang was in charge of the interior design, and one of the things he did was to place a set of stairs where the cafe seating ended. Lots of unsuspecting folks thought they led to the second floor of the establishment, making for many amusing moments.

Literary Salon's most beautiful furnishings were the antique table lamps that, when lit, gave the whole cafe the warmth of a family living room. Literary Salon, much like the Writers Cafe, was extremely popular in its early days. The author Chi-teng Sheng even waited tables here. Though he only put in a one-month stint, his experience formed the material for one of his novels. Literary Salon closed after three years of operation.

According to Lu Ti, because Literary Salon only offered coffee and simple meals, with the former costing only NT$5 and the latter NT$8, it was difficult to maintain profitability. Moreover, because the cafe was located right next to the Hsimenting movie theater district, it attracted many young people, especially when blockbusters were showing on nearby cinema screens. The cafe would be filled with movie-going students, some of whom would order a single cup of coffee and stay an entire afternoon, and whom the proprietors never felt right about asking to move on. After a while, other customers stopped coming, and Literary Salon was forced to close. But the good news is, after a 30-year hiatus, Literary Salon will soon re-open.

Due to the diligent efforts of Lu Ti, a cafe called Literary Center will open in May on the ninth floor at 277 Roosevelt Road, Section 3, also the site of the Chinese Writers' and Artists' Association. The Literary Center will occupy more than 7,200 square feet, and will primarily function to provide members of literary and cultural circles, and the public at large, with a space for reading, lectures, and performances. The proprietors hope to provide a comfortable venue for people in the arts to converse and get to know each other.

The Wild Man Cafe

The Writers Cafe and the Literary Salon were all relatively quiet establishments, places where one would at most hear the soft strains of classical or background tunes, but never music turned up to ear-shattering levels. At the opposite end of the spectrum, the Wild Man took pride in being in the unruly vanguard. The mid-60s in America saw the burgeoning of the hippie movement, with Taiwan soon following suit. One began to hear the widespread singing of English-language songs and Mandarin renditions of English melodies. The Wild Man Cafe was the place to hear this cutting-edge music, and rock music was played so loudly that one could hardly stand in the place.

According to Lo Men, many literary and artistically minded young people flocked to the Wild Man to experience the feel of body pressed against body and the sight of brown- and blond-haired foreigners. The denizens of Wild Man would dance and clutch at each other wildly, creating a scene that could make one's blood boil. The painter Hsi Te-chin would come to paint portraits amidst the clamor, and Lin Hwai-min also came here to see for himself the rebelliousness of the young.

Wild Man proved quite profitable, but the place was taken over by kids who wouldn't leave when asked, and there were fracases and several drug-related incidents. The police were called in several times and the cafe even made it into the newspapers' crime pages, attracting public scrutiny. In the conservative mood of the times, this track record was bound to call down disapproval. In 1970, the Wild Man was forced to close, ending Taipei's first rock cafe.

Apart from Stars Cafe, the Writers Cafe, Literary Salon, and the Wild Man Cafe, literary luminaries also graced many other cafes-the Garden Cafe, the Genius Cafe, Celestial Melody Cafe, and Morning Breeze Cafe-with their presence. Even the cafe attached to the National Army Art Activities Center had its role, as many poets, and writers serving in the military-such as Chang Hsien, Lo Fu and Kuan Kuan-congregated here and made it their home base.

But in the 1980s, with growing prosperity, large corporations began to set up tourist-oriented hotels, which invariably featured cafes as well. The ensuing trend led many to change loyalties in regards to their favorite cafes. Teahouses also began to spring up, adding to the growing array of choices. Most importantly, people grew busier and busier in an increasingly industrialized lifestyle, and had less and less time to meet at this or that cafe; what mattered now was convenience. And so it has come to pass that these old cafes, which once stood for human ties, cultivating relationships, sharing views on writing, and conversing on matters ancient and present, may now be found in memory only.

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Remodeled in the 1970s, Bolero still retains its rich European feel. The paintings on its wall are even illuminated, underscoring the proprietors' attention to detail.

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This is Bolero during the Japanese occupation era, when the refined style of the salon was all the rage.

(courtesy of Bolero)

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Bolero founder Liao Shui-lai (right) passing on the secrets of properly slicing fruit to a Japanese friend.

(courtesy of Bolero)

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With its romantic ambience, Bolero has attracted many a couple, pledging their eternal love for each other on this spot.

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Poet Lu Ti and friends once ran the Literary Salon, a cafe that offered people in the arts a place "to talk about anything under the sun."

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The newly-opened Literary Center retains the characteristic flavor of the former Literary Salon, creating a space for poetry lovers through special readings and exhibitions of poets' hand-drafted works.

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Stars Cafe became renowned, not for its coffee or desserts, but for the literary luminaries who passed through its doors. (photo by Yang Wen-ching)

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(facing page) The stuff of legends, Chou Meng-tie ran a small bookstall on Wuchang Street, adding poetic flair and drawing accolades for Stars Cafe and Old Taipei as a whole. (courtesy of Elite Publishing Co.)