Sceaux Hou Family Garden

The Sceaux Hou family home felt like a second family to me. In the past, whenever I had free time, I would visit my brother Jinlang and Meichi, spending unforgettable days with Hou and accompanying Jinlang. After Jinlang passed away in May 2008 (finally freed), I began helping Meichi organize all of his paintings. I even returned to Taiwan with her to Tucheng to coordinate all of Jinlang’s ceramic sculptures and paintings—taking photos, cataloging, preparing for a memorial exhibition, organizing materials, and busying myself for quite some time. This year, in May, on the anniversary, we successfully held the "Hou Jinlang Memorial Exhibition" at the National Museum of History in Taipei, finally fulfilling my wish to pay the highest tribute to this Taiwanese democratic activist and scholar-painter, and giving me the opportunity to express my deep affection and gratitude for him.

There are not many Taiwanese compatriots in Paris, and their homes are generally small. Few possess a house as spacious as the Hou residence, let alone a garden. The Hou family has always been deeply attached to their homeland and hospitable, frequently hosting friends from their hometown. Their warm home and verdant garden became a gathering place for compatriots. This first half of the year was fulfilling: two solo exhibitions were held in Taiwan, I assisted with the Hou Jinlang Memorial Exhibition, and gave several lectures before returning to Paris in late June. After attending to personal matters and meeting with Meichi during her visit, I returned to the Sceaux Hou family home again in August at Meichi’s invitation. Everything seemed the same, yet the host—brother Jinlang—was missing. It is inevitable to feel sorrowful nostalgia when touched by the scene, but remembering friends feels as if they are still with us.

Looking out through the floor-to-ceiling windows is the verdant garden, the Hou family’s secret garden, built and cared for by Meichi flower by flower and tree by tree. The garden became a place for Meichi to find leisure and forget worldly troubles while caring for Brother Hou day and night, and also served as Jinlang’s artistic vision and space for imagination. It was pleasing to the eye, with flourishing flora: brilliant and colorful in spring, lush green with abundant fruits and flowers in summer, poetic and picturesque in autumn, and particularly charming in winter snowscapes. The garden was once the theme and spiritual anchor for Brother Hou’s paintings, expressing his complex inner emotions. I often accompanied Jinlang to admire the garden and natural plants, listening to his many amusing childhood stories and experiences, watching him sketch outdoors, and chatting about the past under the trees or among the flowers on good weather days. In spring, we watched birds dance on branches and peck at cherries together by the living room window; in winter, birds played on branches and ate red persimmons. Sometimes he would happily sing Taiwanese folk songs, and other times he would look sorrowful.

The Hou family’s flourishing garden holds many of my memories and anecdotes. Here, I met many of Jinlang and Meichi’s relatives, classmates, scholars, people concerned about Taiwan’s future, students, and others. They warmly hosted friends coming and going, frequently discussing topics related to Taiwan’s prospects, the democratic movement, and sovereignty awareness. The beautiful dream of our homeland became the core of our shared concern.

Meichi often invited us to spend weekends in Sceaux, but I could never find the time. In August, I visited the Hou family twice. On those days of blue skies and white clouds, under the verdant foliage and bright light, we dined in the garden once, just as usual, with Meichi always treating guests to lavish and generous meals. Another time, a group of us—Taiwanese friends from Taiwan or local Parisians—had a barbecue picnic in the courtyard. Under this special feeling, I knew that Brother Hou was with us, and with a heart full of gratitude, I wrote this memory-filled and emotional essay.