A Japanese house of Canadian wood, built by hand in a Taiwanese town

Twenty-five years ago, I was a university student in southern New Zealand, reading textbooks that I’d soon forget. At the same time, 9,000 km away in southern Taiwan, a 50-year-old man was also reading—but the book he chose would change his life.

In this book, Master Yang read about traditional Japanese construction techniques, using interlocking wooden joints to hold everything together. Then, inspired by just that one book, Master Yang quit his job and single-handedly embarked on a full-time, multi-decade journey to build a traditional Japanese house of his own.

Traditional Japanese houses of this size would typically be built by 21 workers over two years. By contrast, Master Yang built the house alone over two decades.

It would become A Book Wooden House (一册大木家屋) in Fangliao Township, Taiwan.

Earlier this year, I met Master Yang and his family. I learned their history, explored their house, and took a lot of photos.

The house has recently opened for organized tours, which makes this a good time to share their story…

A low-key wooden scent

By train, Fangliao Township (population 23,000) is an hour south of Kaoshiung. Agriculture and fishing dominate its economy, but more recently—in the face of decades-long population decline—there’s been an increased interest in tourism as well.

Sue, the eldest daughter of Master Yang, hopes A Book Wooden House will put Fangliao on the map.

I think it should.

I met Sue at Fangliao Station, along with the mutual friend who invited me.

Sue drove us a few minutes to her parents’ house. From the outside, indeed it looked Japanese.

As we removed our shoes and crossed the threshold, we were hit with a low-key wooden scent.

The main living area was a double-height room with complex roof angles that hadn’t been obvious from the outside.

Across the room, a huge dining table—crafted from a single tree trunk and gifted by fans of Master Yang’s work—stretched between the staircase and the kitchen.

Sue introduced us to her husband, her three-year-old daughter, and her inspiring parents Master and Mrs Yang.

Shoji screens and tatami

Master Yang sat with us in the tatami room, separated from the living room by sliding shoji screens. This was my first time sitting on tatami.

We sat cross-legged around a low table, drank tea, and talked about the house.

Master Yang—now in his mid-70s—said that as a young man, he spoke English when working in Saudi Arabia. He said his English was rusty now because he hadn’t used it in decades. But it was better than my Chinese, which I use every day.

We talked in both languages.

Mrs Yang was running a restaurant when that one book inspired Master Yang to build the house. Mrs Yang continued to run the restaurant once Master Yang started full-time construction, providing financial and moral support for the project.

To save money, for more than half a decade they lived in a tent inside the unfinished house—without air conditioning, running water, or an indoor kitchen.

No steel, cement, nails, or paint

Master Yang built most of the house on his own, despite not having an architectural or engineering background. Per that book about traditional Japanese building techniques, he constructed the house entirely without steel, cement, nails, or paint.

His joinery is necessarily precise to within 1 mm.

Walls are plastered with lime.

The first 10 years of the project were mostly spent sourcing and preparing materials, including Canadian timber for the structural framing. The house was erected and made weathertight over the next decade, reaching 95% completion in 2020.

Along the way, it picked up international attention. Architecture schools started bringing students from across Taiwan. Film crews have documented progress.

The Taiwanese public television show Guess Who’s Coming for Dinner even brought a celebrity guest.

99% complete

During the Japanese era (1895–1945), traditional wooden house were sometimes built in Taiwan—especially as officers’ residences—but around 100 years ago there was a shift to more modern styles.

A century on, this house is singular.

Master Yang has revived a skillset. He has even attracted curious experts from Japan—a kind of reverse information transfer.

Now, 25 years after conception, Master Yang lives in a beautiful and unique home that’s 99% complete. Soon, he’ll be able to retire.

A full tour

The tatami room is perhaps the most obviously Japanese space, but there are more traditional features throughout the house.

From the second floor, we climbed a custom-made ladder to the attic. I was the heaviest person to climb it so far, so the family was delighted to see it didn’t bend under my weight. (Master Yang already knew it wouldn’t.)

In the attic, amongst the complex structural framework, there was a wooden plaque attached to a central beam. It was inscribed with a message that serves as a ritual offering to the gods for protection—and also a time capsule, preserving the history of the house.

Sue showed how the attic’s mechanical shutters could be opened, allowing natural convection to lower the temperature downstairs.

Back down the ladder, the second floor had a mezzanine office overlooking the living room. The balcony had a secret opening to allow large items to be moved upstairs without navigating the bend in the staircase.

I was challenged to open the secret lock—with a mechanism made of pure wood, of course. It was positioned such that it could be felt but not seen.

We made sure Sue’s daughter didn’t watch us, in case she was tempted to try.

Upstairs, we also looked through the bathroom and two bedrooms. (A second bathroom and a third bedroom were downstairs.)

On returning to the first floor, I was presented with another puzzle: six interlocking pieces of wood. This was a hands-on demonstration of Master Yang’s joinery skills, showing the kind of joints used throughout the house. Accurate to within 1 mm.

I like to think I’m good at spatial reasoning—but I couldn’t connect them all.

Exceptionally good food and indigenous Taiwanese liquor

We were joined by a friend of the family whose hobby is card weaving—a traditional technique for making woven keychains and bracelets. She demonstrated her craft which, to my unsophisticated eye, seemed like magic—then insisted on giving us mementoes to take home.

My new keychain has the symbol 冊 on one side. It means ‘book’, per the house’s name. The reverse side has the character 吉, which means ‘lucky’.

In the dining room, Mrs Yang had prepared lunch. It was a feast, running the length of the very long dining table.

We ate exceptionally good food paired with indigenous Taiwanese liquor.

Later, Sue took us for a tour of Fangliao. She pointed out a local temple that, via loudspeakers, broadcasts public announcements to the town for NT$100 (NZ$5) each. Things like daily specials at the market or community updates. A Fangliao tradition that, like A Book Wooden House, is from another time.

But A Book Wooden House is not a historic curiosity. It’s a beautiful, intricate, warm, inspiring building. After a day in Fangliao, I can’t imagine the town without it.

I took 236 photos at the house.

Here are 60 of them:

A Book Wooden House is now open for organized tours. Their new website has details. Highly recommended:

A Traditional Chinese translation follows:

「一册大木家屋」現已開放團體導覽參觀。更多詳情請見其全新官方網站。