Unwilling to wallow in despondency
“I only relocated here in April of this year.” He left behind the shop passed down by his family, and moved into a small, narrow space made by converting the front porch of his home. A wooden sign he made himself, reading “Cai Rongxing Wood Carving Studio,” hangs above the door of his workshop, located in a back street. Although space is limited, on display in the studio are a wide variety of classic carved products, attracting curious gazes from passers-by.
“I don’t know anything about ‘cultural and creative industries.’ I simply feel that I can make a lot of things by carving wood.” A meticulously sculpted miniature “eight-footed bed” (a traditional Chinese bed) was made by Cai to express how much he misses his father: “It took me more than two months to finish.” Perfect small-scale replicas of a pedicab and a rice-noodle vendor’s cart, both with wheels that can turn, are reminders of a time long past. The ancient art of wood carving, which has virtually disappeared, is being kept alive by Cai.
“This is a ‘sugar turtle’ mold, which is very rare these days.” Sugar syrup was poured into the mold and chilled to make the sugar turtles, which were an offering used in Yilan when worshipping the gods, and Cai Rongxing has preserved this traditional mold. “And this handmade soap was cast in a cake mold.” Ingenious new applications enable Yilan’s many traditional crafts to be passed down from generation to generation, offering a ray of hope for their future.
As the market has declined, so has the number of master craftsmen making rice-cake molds. Although orders are few and far between, Cai still insists on working every day. “This is my attitude towards life, and my greatest pleasure in life.”
Sitting at his workbench, wearing presbyopic glasses, Cai toils under the light of a small table lamp, making one gouge at a time as his hands give birth to the vivid forms in his mind. Each cut is invested with emotion.
“It’s hard to make a living in this line of work! These days no young people want to learn it!” Disconsolate at having no-one to pass on his skills to, Cai can only shake his head and sigh. He lifts up his heavy wooden mallet with a practiced hand, its four faces, once smooth and even, now deeply hollowed by continual hammering—just as Cai himself has been shaped by a lifetime of wood carving, which has left behind an ineradicable imprint on him.
Cai Rongxing’s rice-cake molds range in size from the largest, for cakes weighing over 60 kilos, to the smallest at only five centimeters.
Shaping handmade soap with cake molds lends greater local character to Yilan’s traditional crafts.
Miniature rice-cake-mold key fobs are carved in exquisite detail, making them unique souvenir and gift items.
This rice-noodle soup vendor’s cart, with wheels that can turn, is a masterpiece of craftsmanship.
This chest of drawers is small but complete; all the drawers can be opened.
Although the market for hand-carved wooden utensils has declined and orders are few, Cai Rongxing still sits down to work every day like clockwork.