Whimsical Windows:

Patterned glass—or textured glass—was widely used from the 1950s to the 1980s for windows, cabinets, and interior partitions in residential buildings across Taiwan. Translucent but not transparent, the glass allows light in yet preserves a sense of privacy, while also providing a vital decorative element for interior design.

Patterned glass was a hallmark of those decades in the mid- to late 20th century. Sporting a rich variety of patterns such as the stylized floral pattern known in Taiwan as haitang (“crab-apple” or “begonia”), stars, lines, diamonds, and ice flowers, this kind of glass is integral to the collective memory of people who have lived through that age. Were there any patterned-glass windows where you lived?

The rise of patterned glass

Despite its long history in human civilization, it was only in the late 19th century that glass underwent a significant technological breakthrough. With iron and steel being adopted as structural materials for new buildings, there was a substantial need for large windowpanes, and this triggered innovations in glassmaking.

From the Taiwan Daily News—a major newspaper published during the Japanese colonial period (1895–1945)—we learn that the earliest recorded industrial glassmaker in Taiwan was Chin I Ho Glass in Wanhua, Taipei. Marking the beginning of glass manufacturing on the island, the company at first specialized in industrial instruments, medical devices, and household items. However, due to technical challenges and limited access to raw materials, plate glass for building purposes was imported from Japan during the Japanese era.

Patterned glass is a type of plate glass. Its textured surface is produced by passing a roller engraved with designs over hot glass while it is still soft, a process which ­transfers the desired patterns onto the glass. Patterned glass is ornamental in nature and can transmit light, but it blocks direct vision, so in days gone by it was often fitted into the lower sections of doors or other places that required privacy. Japanese-era public architecture made extensive use of patterned glass, such as the Railway Department Office in Taipei (now the National Taiwan Museum’s Railway Department Park), the Residence of the Governor-General of Taiwan (now the Taipei Guest House), the Tainan Public Hall (now the Wu Family Garden), the Taipei branch of the Nippon Kangyo Bank (now the National Taiwan Museum’s Natural History Branch), and Taihoku College of Commerce (now the College of Law at National Taiwan University). We can also see patterned glass in what used to be staff accommodations, including Qingtian 76 (former residence of Ma Ting-ying, late professor of geology at National Taiwan University) and the Nishikichō Japanese-­style staff quarters on Taipei’s Jinhua Street, as well as in walkup apartments dating from the post-1945 era.

Patterned glass comes in a great variety of beautiful designs.

The age of glass merchants

It wasn’t until after World War II that Taiwan started to produce its own plate glass, Hsinchu Glass and Taiwan Glass being the first two companies to acquire the technology. With the establishment of upstream supply chains in Taiwan, locally produced glass found its way into various industries, including automobiles, construction, furniture, and interior design. Glass merchants of various sizes flourished. Newton Liu’s father began his career as an apprentice glassworker. In 1979 he founded Mingshun Glass, which continues to thrive today. Liu tells us that at the time his father specialized in cutting windshields for Vespa scooters and in glass installation.

Back then, patterned glass had gained wide currency in residential buildings, where it was fitted into cabinets or installed in windows with hinoki-wood or aluminum frames. “In those days, because of technical constraints, patterned glass was only two to three millimeters thick. It performed relatively poorly in terms of safety and sound insulation,” Liu says. The patterned glass used in doors and windows today is much thicker and stronger. “But in terms of aesthetic qualities and light permeability, old glass seems more beautiful to me.”

Liu tells us about the standard modus operandi at the time. Glaziers ordered glass from the factories by the crate, with each crate containing 100 sheets. Glass merchants also stored large quantities of glass on their premises. “So we still have a lot of it in stock—all bought by my father in the old days.”

Newton Liu shows us the tools he uses to cut glass. Patterned glass used to be only two to three millimeters thick and had to be cut carefully by hand.

Newton Liu shows us the tools he uses to cut glass. Patterned glass used to be only two to three millimeters thick and had to be cut carefully by hand.

Mingshun Glass has worked with the craft design studio Hands, combining glass with carpentry to reintroduce the beauty of bygone days into our daily lives.

Mingshun Glass has worked with the craft design studio Hands, combining glass with carpentry to reintroduce the beauty of bygone days into our daily lives.

Vintage glass reimagined

With masses of old glass stored at home, Liu says that as a child, he saw so much haitang-patterned glass that he got tired of it.

Fortune began to smile on patterned glass in 2013–14, when retro scenes were especially popular in local films and TV dramas. Producers were looking for vintage-­looking glass with haitang floral patterns for their film sets. There was a concomitant trend for retro styles in interior design, with many customers specifically asking for patterned glass.

Liu spotted a business opportunity in this rising demand. He says modestly that he just happened to have the material: “The ideas were all contributed by the customers.” For example, he was commissioned to cut patterned glass into round shapes to serve as coasters. And when he visited a customer, the mesmerizing sight of light shining through haitang-patterned glass sparked the idea of designing a retro glass lamp, with a lightbulb walled in by glass panels. Production began in 2018. Since then Liu has promoted these new glass creations at many craft markets.

“This is the kind of glass in my grandma’s windows!” Liu often hears young customers make comments like this at markets and at Creative Expo Taiwan. His creations are sold on Yongkang Street in Da’an District, at the Songshan Cultural and Creative Park, and at the Hayashi Department Store in Tainan, winning the admiration of visitors from Europe, Japan, and Korea. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the General Assembly of Chinese Culture have presented such products to French and Japanese guests, for them to bring an authentic slice of Taiwanese culture home.

Patterned glass with haitang floral designs used to serve as windowpanes. Now it is turned into craft pieces that emanate a distinctively Taiwanese sensibility, perfect as gifts.

Zhong Xinying, owner of Ziai Studio, uses inlaying techniques to create glass artworks.

Ziai Studio has also worked with Mingshun Glass to create retro-looking patterned-glass caskets. This photo shows glass with leaf patterns, which is very rare. 

Telling stories through old glass

In addition to developing new products at Mingshun Glass, Liu has worked with creative professionals from other fields, such as Zhong Xinying, who uses inlaying techniques to create glass artworks at Ziai Studio. Together, Liu and Zhong have brought out patterned-glass caskets, necklaces, and pendant earrings—all lovingly crafted pieces that capture our hearts.

Mingshun Glass has also joined forces with Hands—a craft design studio that seeks to revive the beauty of craftsmanship in everyday contexts—to produce storage boxes and trays. By combining patterned glass with yellow cedar in these creations, they have managed to give modern expression to a nostalgic sense of beauty and reintroduce this beauty into our daily lives.

Some of Liu’s customers have had to remove their old windows when refurbishing their homes, or when their houses were demolished as part of urban renewal projects. Liu has been commissioned by them to turn the patterned windowpanes into lamps for their children. Preserving the families’ memories, these new lamps continue to offer a warm sense of companionship even when the old homes no longer exist.

Liu also tells us about being contacted by four glass merchants in their 80s. As they were closing their businesses, they gave Liu their stocks of patterned glass, saying, “We’ve reached the end of our era. These materials are for you to keep the legacy going.” The glass represents their lives’ work, and it would have broken their hearts to throw it away. In Liu’s hands, it is to be given a new lease of life. 

Patterned glass is a hallmark of a past era, quietly emanating the “Taiwanese sensibility” in the old window frames. (photo by Kent Chuang)

Customers send old windowpanes to Newton Liu to be transformed into lamps, giving familiar objects a new lease of life so that old memories can live on in their families.