You’ve stumbled upon the lion dance (舞獅), an age-old custom that has followed Chinese people everywhere they go. But what is the meaning behind this unique and frenetic display? In this article we explore the history of the lion dance, and particularly its focal point, the head. We also meet up with Hong Wending (洪文定), the youngest in a line of skilled artisans, to see just how lion heads are made.

Foreign Dance Evolves Into Chinese Custom

The history of lion dancing goes back at least 2,000 years in China. But the custom likely originated in India or Persia, where lions were once native fauna. In India the lion was regarded as a guardian, and lions were first introduced to China in the Han Dynasty (漢朝) as gifts for the imperial court.

There are detailed descriptions from the Tang Dynasty (唐朝) of lion dances performed by Central Asians for the pleasure of the rulers, and by the Song Dynasty (宋朝), the dance was referred to as the “northern lion”, as another style was developing in Guangdong Province (廣東省) in the southern China. Rather than providing entertainment for royalty, southern lion dancing was conducted in rural villages. Legend has it that in one community, a child-eating monster called a nian (年) was making appearances every spring to wreak havoc. The villagers adopted the tactic of scaring the nian off with firecrackers, tumultuous drumming, cymbal crashing, and of course the fierce lion.

Over time, lion dancing became a part of the New Year festivities, and the practice of cai qing (採青), or “plucking the greens,” developed. In order to ensure prosperity in the new year, businesses offered red envelopes filled with cash, so long as the lions could reach them; they could be hung up to six meters high! Affixed to the envelopes were bunches of green vegetables that the lions had to chew up and spit out, making sure to retain the envelopes as their reward.

Heading into modern times, the northern and southern lions retained distinctive features. Northern lions tend to perform in pairs, one male and one female, and they typically feature a gold-covered wooden head and shaggy, orange-haired bodies. Northern lion performances are highly entertaining and include a full range of acrobatics and stunts. The southern lion is more symbolic, as it serves to ward off evil spirits and summon good fortune. The head is larger yet lighter and made of papier-mache. It has a single horn on top and a mirror on the forehead to show enemies their true selves.

In the south, lion dancing goes hand in hand with martial arts. Controlling the lion requires great strength, dexterity, and agility. Foshan (佛山) is the preferred style of most kung fu schools, and only the most advanced students are allowed to perform. In the 20th century a second major southern style developed, called Heshan (鶴山). Characterized by complex footwork, the founder of the school studied the movements of cats in order to develop lifelike moves.

Both Foshan and Heshan followed the Chinese diaspora, and as such they are the most common types found in Chinese communities abroad. A number of countries have also developed their own versions of lion dancing, and even within China, no two lions are alike. Lions come in a number of colors, signifying their ages or personality traits, or they may even represent historical characters.

Lions Leap Across the Strait to Taiwan

Besides the northern and southern lions, a third major variety developed amongst the Hokkien (福建) people, called the “green lion.” With protruding teeth, brows made of steel lances, short black beards, and long bodies that may conceal weapons, green lions are truly dreadful creatures. Some say that green lions represented the Manchurian overlords in the Qing Dynasty (清朝). After the fall of the Qing, green lions became less common, but they survive to this day in Taiwan.

Green lions first crossed the Taiwan Strait in the 18th century. Because most early settlers in Taiwan were boatmen who struggled with the island’s harsh environment, lion dancing in Taiwan retained a strong emphasis on aggressive moves and martial arts. Dance troupes were mostly found in farming villages, where performances were staged for the exaltation of gods, for exercise or even military training.

Moveable, open-mouthed lion heads became common in northern Taiwan, while in the south they tended to be flat and doubled as shields for protecting villagers from bandit raids. Later, Hakka-style lions also arrived in Taiwan, followed by Guangdong-style ones, and after 1945, northern-style ones. In the 1950s and 1960s, lion dance troupes became increasingly associated with gangsters. Violent showdowns between troupes brought the custom a negative reputation.

In the 1970s and 1980s, increased industrialization, wealth, and urbanization meant that more and more lion troupes were being commissioned to perform at temple opening ceremonies, and nowadays the activity has become more sophisticated and professional. A number of international lion dance competitions take place annually in Taiwan.

Hong Wending: Keeping the Art of the Lion Alive

In old times, Bangka (艋舺) was the commercial heart of northern Taiwan. When divine statues were brought over from China, they often passed through and required performance troupes to escort them, and those troupes in turn needed skilled craftsmen to produce their gear.

In 1924, a lion dance troupe in Beitou, then a fringe community with an emerging lion dance scene, invited Master A Shui (阿水師), a renowned lion head craftsman from Taipei, to travel there to impart his knowledge. His chief student was Master Yi Tu (義塗師).

Master Yi Tu’s workshop in Beitou attracted many young local boys to the art of lion head making. One of them was Hong Laiwang (洪來旺), who started hanging out there and picking up the trade at the age of nine. He would go on to found the Central Lion Dance Troupe (中央獅團), who would win national lion dance championships, and became something of a legend in northern Taiwan, for his golden-face lion heads were considered top notch.

In those days, lion head-making was a labor-intensive process that spawned the highest quality results. The first step was to make a clay mold, and only “Beitou soil” obtained from Mt. Datun was considered suitable. The clay would be aged, rehydrated, and finally worked into a mold. The mold was then covered in papier mache consisting of cheesecloth or bits of paper. Next, the mold would be removed and the mask would be covered with a mixture of gold leaf and natural lacquer. Finally, a sealant would be applied for protection, and decorative elements were painted on.

Hong’s lion heads typically featured the colors of the five Daoist elements: green, red, yellow, white and black. Besides the large mirror on the forehead, there were two smaller ones on each cheek. On the back of the head was painted a bagua octagram (八卦鏡), representing the Daoist cosmology, with a yin yang symbol at the center. Rising from the beast’s neck were multicolored ocean waves, representing the earth, and below them hung wisps of dyed hair made from palm bark. The jaw of the movable mouth was made of wicker basket attached to an internal bamboo frame.

Hong fabricated over a thousand lion heads in his lifetime, achieving fame and various awards. Before passing away in 2013 at the age of 99, he made the largest lion head in his life at 90 centimeters across.

Hong’s son, Hong Wending (洪文定), says that for as long as he can remember, people in the community looked up to his father. “My father was like a hero to me. When I was growing up there were always people at our house learning from him.”

As Wending got older, he became increasingly fascinated with martial arts. In 1987 he founded his own Fu An Dance Troupe (福安獅團). Wending recalls the first time he connected with the lion while dancing, “We were performing a welcoming ritual in the south of Taiwan, I caught scent of the incense, and suddenly I could feel the spirit of the lion moving through me.”

Recognizing that lion dancing was falling out of fashion with many youths, Wending started teaching martial arts and the art of lion making in schools, civic groups, and other troupes, and also made trips abroad to teach the skills in overseas Chinese communities. In 2006, he and his father established the Taiwan Lion Dance Arts Association (台灣獅頭旺民俗技藝發展協會) in order to share their knowledge with the community and to promote lion dancing in Taiwan. Wending’s son, now in college, is also showing a keen interest in the art, providing hope that the art form will continue to be passed on.

The traditional method of making lion heads is in fact on the verge of extinction, not just in Taiwan, but everywhere. Instead of using clay, most now use fiberglass, which is easier to mold and much lighter for performers. Even Wending admits that he has adopted these modern methods, though he still makes lion heads in the traditional manner for special occasions.

If you’d like to see lion dancing in Taipei, your best bet is at temple fairs or on the first day of the Chinese New Year, when there are performances at the National Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall, while the most traditional variety can be seen at major temples in and around the city.