# 華山不只是酒廠：紅磚裡還藏著樟腦工場

- URL: https://justfly.idv.tw/%e8%8f%af%e5%b1%b1%e4%b8%8d%e5%8f%aa%e6%98%af%e9%85%92%e5%bb%a0%ef%bc%9a%e7%b4%85%e7%a3%9a%e8%a3%a1%e9%82%84%e8%97%8f%e8%91%97%e6%a8%9f%e8%85%a6%e5%b7%a5%e5%a0%b4/
- 日期: 2026-10-15
- 分類: 我知故我在
- 標籤: 台北, 工業遺產, 舊建築活化, 華山1914

![華山不只是酒廠：紅磚裡還藏著樟腦工場]
從八德路走進華山1914，第一眼是紅磚、老樹，還有爬上牆面的藤蔓。多數反應很一致：啊，酒廠。這個反應只對一半。

##### 一半是酒，一半是別的

園區官方的[園區史](https://www.huashan1914.com/history)記錄了1914年的清酒生產與酒廠轉型，同時也交代，今日園區還包含原樟腦工場的空間。[樟腦](https://zh.wikipedia.org/wiki/樟腦)與清酒，一個是藥味刺鼻的化工原料，一個是糧食發酵，廠房需要的通風、荷重、排水完全是兩套邏輯。同一塊園區，兩種工業，兩種身體。

把整個園區叫做「酒廠」，等於把一整條街叫成街角那家店。方便，但走起來就會走錯。

##### 沿著紅磚走一遍

前身是1914年由日本實業家安部幸之助創立的「芳醸社」清酒造酒廠，戰後改為公賣局台北第一酒廠。這段身世在[園區官方網站](https://www.huashan1914.com)與相關整理裡都有記載。建築上看得最清楚的，是工業建築的老習慣：牆厚、窗窄、門洞大。窄窗為了控溫，大門洞為了讓貨物與推車進出，沒有一樣是為了好看。

今天這些尺寸剛好被另一種用途利用。大門洞能塞進一整面展牆，厚牆擋住外頭的聲音，窄窗投進來的光斜斜一道，策展人很愛。西二館是紅磚六合院，曾有遊戲IP的夏季快閃進駐，為期5天；東1A館的舊酒廠空間，則被一個日本紙品品牌拿來辦了近半年的展售，空間本身成了品牌敘事的一部分。這些活動各自會結束，磚牆不走。

##### 留下來，是爭來的

這座廠區曾經廢棄。1997年，藝文界積極爭取保存，避免它被拆除，後來轉型為台灣第一處旗艦型文創基地。今天拍照的那堵紅磚牆，當年差點變成瓦礫。

台灣的文創園區多半起於2000年代初期的舊建築活化，華山1914、松山文創園區、駁二藝術特區常被並列。但[工業遺產](https://zh.wikipedia.org/wiki/工業遺產)再利用有個老問題：容易被簡化成一個好記的標籤。標籤好記，細節就掉了，樟腦工場就是掉的那一塊。

##### 下次怎麼逛

進園區先別急著找咖啡館。挑一棟紅磚，數它有幾扇窗、門洞多寬，再對照展覽牆面怎麼利用這些尺寸。再問一句：這一棟，是酒的，還是樟腦的？

答案就貼在園區史裡，看完再逛一圈，路線會不一樣。

— 洪俊傑

### Huashan Was Never Just a Sake Brewery

Walk in from Bade Road and the first things to hit are red brick, old trees, and vines climbing the walls. The usual conclusion is the same every time: ah, a brewery. That is only half right.

##### Half sake, half something else

The official [history of Huashan 1914](https://www.huashan1914.com/history) records sake production in 1914 and the brewery’s later conversion. It also notes that today’s grounds include the spaces of a former camphor works. [Camphor](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Camphor) is a sharp-smelling chemical material; sake is fermented grain. The ventilation, floor loads and drainage each needs are two different sets of logic. One site, two industries, two bodies.

Calling the whole park “the brewery” is like calling a street by the name of the shop on its corner. Convenient, until the walking begins.

##### Walking the brick

The brewery began in 1914 as the sake maker “芳醸社”, founded by the Japanese businessman 安部幸之助, and after the war became the Taipei No. 1 Winery of the Tobacco and Liquor Monopoly Bureau. The [park’s official site](https://www.huashan1914.com) and related write-ups carry this history. What the architecture shows most plainly are the habits of industrial building: thick walls, narrow windows, wide doorways. Narrow windows kept temperatures steady. Wide openings let goods and carts through. None of it was meant to look good.

Those same proportions now suit a different kind of tenant. A wide doorway takes a whole exhibition wall. Thick brick shuts out street noise. A narrow window throws one slanted bar of light, which curators love. The West 2 hall, a red-brick courtyard, has hosted a five-day summer pop-up for a game IP. The old brewery space in East 1A held a Japanese stationery brand’s display-and-sales run of nearly half a year, with the building itself part of the brand story. Those events end. The brick stays.

##### Staying was fought for

The compound was once abandoned. In 1997 the arts community pushed hard to save it from demolition, and it became Taiwan’s first flagship creative-industries base. The red wall that gets photographed today was once headed for rubble.

Taiwan’s creative parks mostly trace back to early-2000s adaptive reuse, with Huashan 1914, Songshan Cultural and Creative Park and the Pier-2 Art Center often named together. But [industrial heritage](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Industrial_heritage) reuse has an old problem: it gets flattened into one memorable label. Memorable labels shed detail, and the camphor works is the piece that fell off.

##### How to walk it next time

Skip the cafe hunt at first. Pick one brick building, count its windows, measure the doorway by eye, then see how the exhibition uses those dimensions. Then ask: is this one sake, or camphor?

The answer is printed in the park’s own history. Read it, then do the loop again. The route will change.

— 洪俊傑
